094, 2/2

As the sky turned red and purple with the oncoming night, nine Ophiels, bloomed out to their full three meter height, blipped into the Crystal Forest west of the shadeling city of Candlepoint. They flew in formation, over the sands, making their way forward. They held under their control floating platforms laden with stone boxes, full of marquise-cut rads that shimmered under the sunset, cloudless sky.

The gates of Candlepoint were not there; this city was always open to whoever wanted inside. Guards in dark armor stood to the sides of the open space, but they were not there for actual defense, except from the occasional wandering mimic. The guards were there for show. Upon seeing Ophiel’s flight, two of the guards quickly ducked into the buildings beyond the gate. By the time Ophiel had flown forward another ten meters closer, another person had taken to standing on the sands, in the center of the open gate. She had white hair, horns, and skin, while her grey robes fluttered gently in the slight wind. It was hard to mistake Justine Erholme for anyone else than herself.

Erick flew closer to Justine, to the gate, taking his time, not wanting to appear threatening. For the guards’ part, they formed up, shifting from a casual stance of leaning against the gate walls and talking with each other, to standing tall and in formation to Justine’s sides. All of the guards looked more or less the same, but one of them was shorter than the rest. As Erick neared, he recognized the short guard. It was that Irkil human kid. Erick smiled to himself, happy that the kid had gotten into the Guard. Even if it was an emotional trick, it was still a nice emotion.

Erick restrained eight of his Ophiel to hover where they were, while moving closer with the leader and a platform full of cargo. He said, “Hello, Justine.”

Justine held her hands in front of her, one clasped to the other. She stood stiffly tall, but her eyes were happy, and the slight upturn of her lips almost seemed to betray her joy. “Greetings, Archmage Flatt.”

Now that Erick was closer, he saw the unabashed smiles on the faces of the other guards, as they tried and failed to hold their proper stances on the sand. But then the air filled with a weird buzzing, and every single shadeling stood in perfect form, smiles gone, joy erased. Or rather, held back?

Yes, yes. The buzzing was Bulgan making himself known. Erick could barely bring himself to care about that asshole. What did he want now?

A shadow formed out of Justine’s own, then stepped up into the light, revealing the asshole himself, in full, smug, assholishness. Dark skin, black hair, black horns, Bulgan smiled wide, revealing white teeth. His bright, wholly white eyes seemed to glow brighter as he spoke with a predatory mien, “Hello, Erick.”

Erick kept his words perfunctory, through the [Prestidigitation] projection of his voice, “Hello, Bulgan.”

Bulgan stood on the tips of his toes for a second, then pantomimed looking off into the distance, with one hand held flat across his forehead to shade his sight from the sun. “Oh my! Such a haul you have!” He dropped the slight act, and said, “Standard rate!” He nudged Justine with his shoulder, saying, “You’ve done pretty good securing his support. Do you think it’s enough to get him to turn to our side in the coming war?”

Justine was white-skinned, but Erick was sure he saw her pale, further.

Erick ignored Bulgan, saying to Justine, “I’ve got it all split into thousand mana boxes. This is only the first shipment—”

With a near-casual reach into the air, like he was picking up a grapefruit from a grocery story display, Bulgan grabbed a sword that had not been there, and planted it into the guts of a nearby guard. The guard crashed to the ground, as the meter-long length of shadow vanished into nothing. Blood gushed, as the guard died.

Erick lost all train of thought.

Bulgan plucked another length of shadow from the air, saying, “I told you before, Erick. Don’t ignore—”

At that moment, as a man who might have been a ploy died on the ground, Erick knew he was going to do something. He wasn’t quite sure what his action would be, until it happened. So it surprised him just as much as it surprised Bulgan, when Erick cast [Shadow Shape] and [Telekinesis], grabbing the length of shadow in Bulgan’s hand, right before it entered Justine’s skull, just above her ear. Brief surprise crossed Bulgan’s face, as he smiled, seeming to flicker his fully white eyes between the sword and Ophiel. He let go of the sword. It remained hovering where Bulgan left it to hover.

Erick had tried to telekinetically control the conjured weapons of another, well before today. Sparring with Kiri gave him a lot of experience in that regard. Telekinetically controlling something already in the control of another was a very difficult thing to do. Erick had only managed the feat in his spars with Kiri, when Kiri’s grip had been less than perfectly secure.

Bulgan’s grip had been secure. It should not have been that easy to stop his sword.

And once the sword was out of Bulgan’s control, Erick should have been able to move it away from Justine, but he couldn’t. The length of shadow was stuck in the air, where Bulgan had let it go.

Justine, for her part, stood strong, unflinching, while a trace of red trickled through her white hair, to travel down her ear, where it collected like a ruby earring before dropping onto her grey robes. She did not move, or betray a single thought about repositioning. Frozen in fear, or perfectly in control of her own actions, or under the control of another, Erick could not tell.

The wind howled in Ophiel’s ears, while blood pumped in Erick’s, all the way back in Spur.

Bulgan slowly smiled, wider and wider. He stepped back. He laughed. Then he whirled around and slammed his fist like a great hammer against the hilt of his still-hovering sword, driving it—

A hint of spider-like magic zipped out of Ophiel, striking the sword, cracking it from the inside out, shattering the conjured weapon into shadow-crawling fragments that spread in every direction. Bulgan whiffed on his hit, striking nothing but air, as dark [Spell Breaker] spiders exploded across his face, and across the rest of him. The unnatural darkness of his skin and clothes flickered and faded, briefly revealing purple incani hues and fine, dark fabrics, before shadows crawled back over him.

Bulgan laughed loud, then stepped back, setting one foot behind the other while spreading his arms and hands down to his sides, open palmed, like the magnanimous loser of an inconsequential series of events. He smiled. He said, “Expect a test every time you arrive.”

Bulgan vanished into shadows.

At that moment Erick knew he had failed one test, but passed another. Bulgan had let him gain slight telekinetic control over the sword, but Erick had certainly dispelled the conjuring.

Three things rapidly happened. The guards next to their fallen companion dropped down to their fallen companion, holding onto him as they shouted at him, trying to bring the redscaled man back from the dead. But the man was not dead. Justine moved down to the man, flaring white light, holding a glowing palm to the fallen.

Other guards stepped back, giving Justine space. One held onto his dying friend, turning him onto his back to aid Justine’s healing spells. The small hole that Bulgan had made through the redscale’s armor, into his chest and out the back, healed over; pale red scales covering pale red flesh. Justine kept her healing light on the man, until he coughed loudly, sputtering blood across Justine’s face. But she didn’t care. The dragonkin breathed deep. His friends helped him upward, as Justine pulled back, the white glow of her hands fading as she moved away.

Erick wasn’t sure where his mind was right now, when he offered, “Does he need rads? He can have a box if he wants.”

Justine flinched. Then she reoriented. She stood straight, then bowed to Erick, saying, “Thank you for saving this one’s life.” She stood up.

“Speaking like that makes me think you’re not really yourself.”

Justine flinched again, as though struck. She said, “Apologies. I… I can see how you could think that. This was merely how I was raised to speak to my betters.”

Erick was not, at all, in the mood to correct anyone’s thinking, but it had to be said, so he said, “I’m not your better.” Erick said, “But we’re all better than the Shades, though I don’t think I need to tell you that. Not when one of them tried to kill you just now.”

Justine remained silent, as her grey eyes seemed to whirl as her mind turned with unsaid thoughts.

The impaled dragonkin-shadeling had been moved into the shade behind the gate while Erick and Justine spoke. He rested on a stone bench, just outside of the sunset light. He seemed to be doing better now that he was in the deeper shadows. His breathing evened out, anyway.

Erick pointed a few of Ophiel’s eyes toward the man, asking again, “Does he need some rads to properly heal? I don’t know how this works for your people.”

Justine said, “Uh.” She clarified, “Yes. Uh. He could use some, I’m sure. Rads help the healing process.” She added, “Um.”

Ophiel raised a wing, and a stone box lifted from the floating platform behind. Erick moved the box forward, setting it down on the other side of the gate, next to the recovering man. The dragonkin then picked up a rad, nodded toward Ophiel, and crushed a stone in his palm. He breathed deep, inhaling an almost imperceptible white glow. He breathed easier. When he opened his palm, the rad was gone; not even dust remained.

Erick turned Ophiel to Justine, saying, “I’ve got about 18,000 boxes to give. Each one has 1000 mana worth of rads inside, give or take a bit.”

Justine said, “Right away.” She glanced to the guards at her sides. They moved out.

Erick moved his squadron closer and set the stone boxes down on the sands outside of the gate. But what he had brought was not the full count of his loot. Ophiels blipped away, then came back with even more stone boxes. It wasn’t long till the haul of two separate Ballooning Spider incursion laid in front of Candlepoint; boxes upon boxes upon boxes. Guards moved with swiftness, telekinetically picking up fifteen to twenty boxes at a time, forming an assembly line to move them into the deep shadows inside the guard stations behind both sides of the gate. Rads went into the darkness, but only the boxes themselves came back out.

Erick dismantled most of the discarded stone boxes back into sand, which he scattered to the land outside of the gate, but he kept some stone boxes for the guards to have a place to deposit his darkchips. It was 1500 darkchips to a box, according to Erick’s correct calculations. The currency of Candlepoint was much smaller than rads, after all. A darkchip was only about a square centimeter large.

While that was happening, Erick asked Justine about the city. Casual questions, about the state of things. Justine answered as honestly as she seemed able to answer. Candlepoint was doing much better with the food he had provided. They had even taken some of the beans and used [Grow] to have a few strains of spicy beans, and salty beans, and savory beans, in order to flavor the rice and beans that everyone was eating these days. They were still growing vegetables with their water gathering runes, too, but Erick’s donation had cleared up all of their immediate problems.

Erick approved. When he was done moving rads out for the guards to pick up, he dismissed an Ophiel on site and conjured another one at home, to gather up some vegetables from his own garden. Carrot vines, tomatoes, corn, potatoes, and a whole bunch of spices, went into a simple stone gift basket. He gave those vegetables to Justine and refused further payment when Justine offered extra darkchips.

Time passed, and Erick certainly noticed the people sticking around down the way, at the intersection of where this gate’s street led into the main street. Some of them eyed the stone boxes full of darkchips. Some of them openly gaped at the glittering rads just outside of the city. But not a single one moved into the area. Everyone stayed away. A few inquisitive [Scry] eyes appeared over the haul, but every Ophiel popped those after two or three seconds, ensuring that whoever was viewing the scene was aware enough to not blip into the area. That would have gone poorly, Erick was sure. He certainly didn’t need any extra drama, either. Whoever needed to blip in could just use one of Candlepoint’s other gates.

It took the guards half an hour to fully accept Erick’s exchange. By the time the last floating box disappeared into the shadows of the guard house, the sky was full dark. Stars shone above, while the moons crested the horizon, but the city of Candlepoint was a riot of colored lights bright enough to drown out the heavens.

Erick had already moved 11 darkchip-full stone boxes to another location, under the sands outside of Spur. One box remained beside the Ophiel at Candlepoint. He looked down at the final black-filled box, as the last guard tossed the final handful of darkchips inside.

With a smile that had only grown larger as rads disappeared into shadows, Justine asked, “Erick, sir?” She had also gotten used to using his name, because Erick had told her to use his name no less than three times. “Are you going to purchase anything from the Crystal?”

“No.” Erick didn’t mention how he was absolutely sure that those items were traps. He had already said it once. He didn’t feel like repeating himself.

Justine tried a different tactic. “I can show you how every item works, if you wish?”

“No.” He said to Justine. “Tell me: What would happen to you if I decide to never come here again?”

Justine paused. “… If I have given offense—”

“That is not it, and you know it.” Erick said, “Besides. The next time I show up Bulgan might actually kill you. Or any number of other people.”

Justine said, “My duty is to my people. If I were not here, I would be casting myself dry in the garden houses, bringing sustenance to others, and helping those who are still trying to regain themselves.”

Erick hated himself for falling for this trap, but he asked anyway, “Valok. The man who was here last time. Where is he?”

Justine said, “If it is your wish, I will ensure he stays out of your sight, but I will not end the man. He fell down a dark path after the events of our previous encounter but he is gradually regaining his sense of self, immersed in the green, as he is accustomed.”

That was fine. He could stay away from Erick, for now. Probably forever.

“I’m not giving you rain on any schedule, but I can give you clouds and natural rainy weather, likely for days at a time. If no one [Dispel]s it, of course.” Erick asked, “Do you want that?”

“Yes,” Justine said, with no hesitation. “I have already spoken to others who have a modicum of power in Candlepoint. Water Season is a month away, but we need water now. We wish for this bounty, Erick. We will accept anything you are willing to give.”

With Ophiel’s many eyes, Erick looked to the sky over Candlepoint. He pulsed [Control Weather], throwing a thousand mana into the spell, adjusting the ambient northern wind into something less violent, calling down moisture in the atmosphere.

There was one thing Erick had learned, more than most, when he had been reading about the weather systems of the Crystal Forest: there was more than enough water in the sky and under the ground to turn this land green from the Wall of the Wasteland Kingdoms in the west, all the way to the Mondariska Mountains in the east. But the mimics were a plague in more ways than one. Their rage against the green ensured no plants grew, ensuring a vicious cycle where the desert remained a desert, as long as the mimics lived.

The Cloud Giants in their invisible Castles in the sky were another problem, with their innate cloudshaping abilities stripping everything that coalesced above, but they seemed to Erick a minor issue compared to what the mimics had done, and continued to do. For the most part, the Cloud Giants liked to be left alone; they had never bothered Spur in all of Erick’s rains.

Knowing all of that, knowing how much water there truly was up there, it wasn’t that much of a problem for Erick to get the sky to cloud over, and for an unnatural rain cycle to be enforced upon an unnatural world.

The harsh northern wind went silent. Cold wind turned warmer. The night sky began to change. First came wispy stretches of darkness high in the sky that seemed to blot out a few stars here and there, but do nothing else. Those splashes of growing moisture turned into ethereal clouds that roiled upon themselves, before growing large enough that the colored lights of Candlepoint began to reflect back upon the city. From horizon to horizon, clouds moved in.

Candlepoint brightened in reflected wardlight. The city no longer looked like a stretch of unnatural darkness, layered in glows, but instead like a comfy holiday decoration. It was still half made of black and the other half made of rainbows, so Erick had no idea where he got the ‘holiday decoration’ from, but that’s what it seemed like to him.

But it wasn’t enough. So Erick moved most of his squadron of Ophiel out into every direction, blipping them into appropriate locations as he recast the spell in a dozen different Super Large Areas. His control over the weather expanded, several fold. Clouds moved in. A quiet storm began to form.

The Ophiel remaining by Justine just watched the sky, as clouds turned dense.

A soft rain began to fall.

Erick said, “That should remain for a while, changing on circumstance. Less rain in the day, clouds all the time, though. Daytime shadeling craziness might be lessened. Same goes for night time. I don’t know, though. [Dispel] it if it becomes a problem.”

Justine looked up into the rain, smiling as droplets ran down her face. She breathed, and breathed, and seemed more than happy. She was having a moment. Nearby guards laughed a little, as they tapped the dampening sand with their feet. Some of them opened their mouths to taste the rain. The main street, down the way, had gone quiet as night came on and the safety of sunset passed. But as rain began to fall, the shadelings down the road had stopped and stared at the sky, while the few adventurers in sight had grown even more wary of the changing atmosphere of the streets.

In the small alleyways between the gate and the main road, shadelings poked out from the shadows, looking up, holding out their hands to catch raindrops. They touched their faces and their ragged clothes. One industrious young shadeling man stripped right there, washing his torn, dirty shirt in a quickly gathering puddle.

Erick said, “I don’t know how bad disease is going to get, but if you guys don’t have [Cleanse], then you’re probably fucked. I don’t know how to help you with that.”

“Mephistopheles has managed to survive and thrive. He has gained slight actual control of the Garrison.” Justine said, “He requested of the Clergy that he be allowed to offer smaller quests than the main monster board. They approved. Now, we have a minor influx of [Cleanse] wands, every day.”

Erick turned back to Justine. “You’re probably going to have to change your city’s architecture. Gutters and sewers or whatever. You can gather water and grow your own food, now.”

Justine faced Ophiel. She put on a professional face, as she bowed, saying, “Thank you, Archmage.” She straightened. She was smiling. “Thank you, Erick.”

Erick said, “Good luck integrating into society. Hopefully you’re not actually monsters.”

Justine bowed again, smaller and quicker than before. “Thank you for your assistance in getting this far. I am sure we can live up to your hopes, while proving your fears unfounded.”

“I’ll make sure to keep the weather wet.” He had Ophiel pick up his last box of darkchips with a Handy Aura, saying, “I won’t be appearing for a while, if I can help it. I don’t want to put the people here in danger if Bulgan decides to be an asshole again.”

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

Justine bowed. The nearby guards bowed, too.

Ophiel blipped away, to another part of the Crystal Forest. Erick had to get away from that before it turned even more uncomfortable than it already was.

The sky was clear above him, but behind, dark clouds roiled on the still wind.

Ophiel blipped a few more times, then deposited the stone box in the appropriate part of the Crystal Forest, before dispersing himself. Erick wasn’t about to bring those chips home with him.

Erick came back to himself. The Ophiel on his shoulder twittered in a mix of violins, guitars, and harps.

Eduard’s voice sounded, ‘Able to talk?’

‘Yes.’ He sent, ‘Come on over.’

 

– – – –

 

Maia Rokva sat next to her brother, Eduard Rokva, on the couch of the sunroom, while Ramizi Fieldsend took a side chair, next to Eduard. They looked okay; healthy. That was Erick’s primary concern, right now. He had seen them in the background briefly while he was dealing with Bulgan, but they were not there afterward. Erick felt a heavy relief upon seeing them in person. But how were they, mentally? They had been testing out Candlepoint’s offerings for the Headmaster, and they had gone back to Oceanside every day to get tested to make sure they were still themselves. But were they still truly okay? Maia’s yellow hair was bright, like her blue eyes, but there was a darkening of her features that hinted at deep worries. Eduard was much the same as his sister. Ramizi was the only one without a worry on his face, or in his posture.

Poi had directed them to sit in the sunroom and cleared them for contact. After Poi drew the curtains shut, closing off any potential spies from outside, Erick walked into the room.

He took his seat across from the Mage Trio, saying, “Hello, Maia, Eduard, Ramizi.” As they nodded and Eduard almost said something, but Erick looked to Ramizi, asking, “Why do you look okay, while Maia and Eduard look sad?”

Eduard frowned, turning away from Ramizi, as Ramizi suddenly flinched.

Ramizi turned to Eduard, whispering, “What? But you said—”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Eduard faced Erick more fully, saying, “Apologies, archmage.”

Ramizi glared at Eduard.

Maia looked to Erick, cutting off all building anger between her brother and her brother’s boyfriend, by saying, “It is a personal matter of some annoyance, and while your concern is appreciated, it is not needed or desired in order to resolve this internal dispute.”

Ramizi was having none of that, and said, “What the fuck, guys?”

“We’re not doing this, here,” Maia said.

“Fine,” Ramizi said, looking away from Maia and Eduard.

Eduard remained silent.

After a moment longer, Erick said, “I would be sorry for stepping into that, but I am not. What happened, and is it strategically significant?”

“It is strategically important,” Eduard said, but stopped there.

Ramizi frowned at no one in particular.

“Fine. I guess we are doing this.” Maia quickly explained, “In the course of exploring Candlepoint for the Headmaster, the Headmaster offered us the task to purchase and use a Stat fruit. The three of us decided to accept the opportunity. The three of us also decided that once it happened and a day passed, whoever got it would go to the Registrar and get rid of it.”

“We flipped some coins.” Eduard said. “Ramizi got picked.”

“I see…” Erick turned toward Ramizi. “Do you feel compelled to keep it?”

“Looks like,” Maia said, as Eduard said, “He does.”

“Guys!” Ramizi said, collapsing a little. Then he sat up straight, putting on a brave face, reporting, “20 Intelligence means 20% reduced spell costs. If there is a further multiplier at that level, like Clarity, the Headmaster’s dictionary attack has not revealed that skill. But it could still be there! It doesn’t matter if it counts after every other count. It still ends up being a lot of saved mana.” He said, “In addition to that, and further confirming the Headmaster’s idea of how Intelligence works, I made the first tier seven spell I could ever cast, yesterday. Intelligence lets me make better spells.”

Eduard said, “You are compromised, Ramizi.”

“I am not. Headmaster’s tests said so.” Ramizi said, still acting as professional as he could. “Besides, I’d lose 7 points, permanently, if I chose to give my Intelligence up. It doesn’t work like normal stats work.”