102, 2/2

Archmage Syllea Wyrmrest chose to meet Erick, and his ward, not inside the house, but outside, at the stone gazebo half a block away from Erick’s house. This was fine by Erick. Syllea looked every bit as beautiful as Erick remembered. Tight leathers, heavily tooled with Ancient Script but barely enchanted with a simple [Mend] spell, hugged her tall, green amazonian form, and her considerable chest, while long blond hair draped down her back in a single, thick braid. Her eyes were something Erick had not noticed before, but as she spied Erick walking toward the Gazebo, he saw her eyes were like chips of blue ice; she was angry, but she was controlling that anger. Her lower fangs peeking out from her lips would have been cute, if not for the harsh lines present in the rest of her visage.

Hours ago, as the morning dawned on Spur, and had yet to dawn on Treehome, Syllea’s home, Erick had woken the woman up with a message sent through Poi. She had been angry. She was still angry. Why hadn’t he called sooner? He could have talked to her as soon as he heard a single clue as to how to reverse the Curse of the Shadeling, but his response had been that he did not know, for sure, how the curse worked. Justine seemed to know, though, and she had been a shadeling herself, so with those words said, Syllea made a plan to come to Spur.

And here she was.

Erick stepped into the gazebo, saying, “Hello, Syllea.” He looked to her compatriots, saying, “Hello… Other people?”

“Erick.” Syllea nodded politely, some of her anger fading behind civility as she spoke with her warm, rich voice, saying, “Thank you for the invitation.” She gestured toward her companions, who stood in the back of the gazebo, staying away from the meeting, much how Teressa and Poi did behind Erick. One of Syllea’s companions was a male orcol who could be her brother; he had almost the exact same body and features, but male. The other person was a barely feminine orcol of brown skin, black hair, and black eyes. She looked built for tougher wars than Guildmaster Mog, and that was a surprising thought for Erick. Syllea said, “Omaz, my brother. Bayth, my oldest friend.”

Omaz smiled brightly, as he waved once, but said nothing. Bayth just stood like a castle fortification in the back of the gazebo, her eyes gently moving from Erick, to Poi, to linger on Teressa, as though she was waiting for something bad to happen. Erick could relate.

Erick said to Omaz and Bayth, “Nice to meet you.” He introduced, “This is Poi and Teressa. We’re all in Spur’s Army, together.”

Syllea simply asked, “Where’s the former shadeling?”

“She’s still inside the house,” Erick said, getting to the reason that Justine did not come out to speak. “When I took her in, I was made aware of two attempts on her life. I’ve also fended off half a dozen or so kidnappings from Candlepoint since I took the city.” As Syllea’s countenance took on a harsher feel, Erick continued on to say, “But she’ll come out to speak. I’m just here to make some introductions and answer any questions you have beforehand.”

Syllea discarded her almost-frown, and gestured to the small table beside her and Erick. It was the same one he had sat at with Killzone, yesterday. She said, “Acceptable. Let us sit, and discuss.”

She sat down, and Erick did, too. The stone was almost cool against his backside, and though air breezed through the gazebo, it was warm, desert air, and the clouds overhead were not too dense. Today looked like a dry day, though not nearly as dry as it had been before Erick got involved. Ophiel twittered on Erick’s shoulder, and took the other seat at the table. Syllea regarded the [Familiar]. What was he doing taking a seat?

Erick explained, “I’m just popping up a [Prismatic Ward] for Justine, for when she joins us. She’s only level 12.”

Syllea said, “Ah,” as her gentle frown returned.

Erick nodded, then expended that Ophiel into an oval of dense air, across one of the seats, forming an oblong sphere of [Prismatic Ward]. With a quick look, the seal at the bottom of Candlepoint’s lake remained intact, and with a quick cast, Erick had another Ophiel sitting on his shoulders, twittering in violins.

With thoughtful eyes, Syllea looked to the dense air, saying, “There have been a handful of people who managed to get around the [Solid Ward] limitation. You’ve joined an elite history, Erick.” She added, “Not to mention all the other achievements.”

“Thank you. That’s all Ophiel, though.” The feathered little guy trilled at his name, and Erick continued, “I got very lucky when I summoned him. I’m actually working on a new tree-based [Familiar] for stationary defenses, though it is not going so well. I’ve gotten the impression that such a thing is impossible.”

“Oh?” Syllea said, “I can’t imagine you would have a problem with behavior, yet. Or did you make a high-tier tree? How far have you gotten?”

“Nothing like that. Sorry, I misspoke. I’m sticking to tier 2. But… Shades can kill anything. That’s the problem.” Erick added, “I’ve even been informed by a credible source that one of those Shades has been personally empowered by Melemizargo in order to kill me if I step out of line, if you can believe it.”

Syllea lost her anger. “You know…” She glanced south out of the gazebo, toward the flat orange land of the Human District, the buildings beyond, and the wall of Ar’Kendrithyst in the far distance. She turned back to Erick, saying, “I expected to be at war, right now. On the run, at the very least. Candlepoint got good and broken, but they’re the only ones, so far. I expected more Odaalis, honestly.”

“Everyone did.” Erick said, “I heard your liaison to the city was killed. Britha.”

“Yes.” Syllea said, “They kill their own more than they kill others. They always have, so I did not think much of such an action. She was a dastardly puppet, who tried her best to convince me she was real. She did the most she could to get more of my people to come to Candlepoint, and partake of the fruits on offer. She told me that shadelings were real people, that if we saw shadelings as a proper race, and not as an affliction, that maybe we could see that there was no need to vilify those so changed by Darkness.” She said, “Many went to her, because of her connection to me. I tried to crush that action as soon as I saw it, but… You know how it is. According to all who saw her, she was the perfect gentlewoman.”

“How bad is it at Treehome?”

Syllea said, “There are now two hundred and five shadelings at a commune outside of Treehome. Britha spread her poison far and fast. Every single Wyrmrest Tribe has a person afflicted by the Curse of the Shadeling, because of her. Because there is power in Darkness, if you can make it out alive. Some managed to unlock two Stats, or three. One managed four.” A look of pain bade her speak on something else. “The shadeling commune is a model of perfect orcol society and it all seems like an awful trick, Erick. Part of me cheered when they killed Britha. She would never tell me how to remove the Shadeling Curse. She never considered it a curse.”

Erick had only interacted with Syllea once before, back when he gave the lecture on particles at Oceanside to all the other archmages, and the Headmaster. She had seemed bubbly and serious at the same time. But now, she just seemed serious. All mirth had left her. Erick knew it would get worse before the day was out, too. That’s how life was currently going for Erick, after all. All the archmages of the world were in similar situations as him, and Syllea was no exception. Archmages were the fulcrums of defense for nations, and the people who found magical solutions to life’s greatest problems. Some skewed more to defense, than solutions, like Erick. While others, like Syllea, were more solution oriented. That she hadn’t found a solution to this shadeling crisis, visibly weighed on her.

Erick said, “They seem like real people to me.”

Syllea laughed. “Optimism!” She asked, in a hateful, jovial mood, “Do you not see the long-con, Erick?”

“If the long con is to make an evil society less evil by introducing a half-Dark society to Veird, then that is okay.” Before Syllea could sigh in frustration and anger, Erick added, “But if the trick is to get under the skin, and kill from within, then I will be the first in line to flood Ar’Kendrithyst with destruction.”

Syllea breathed out, then asked, “Do you truly not see them as a ploy?”

“They are a ploy. Hundred percent, for sure.” Erick said, “But I don’t think it’s against us. I think they’re a long term ploy, in order to force the gods to work with Melemizargo to enact some sort of transformation to the universe beyond Veird, so he can spread beyond this planet.”

“… If anyone else would have told me that, I would have considered consigning them to a mental health asylum.” Syllea said, “People rarely have effects on godly behavior.”

Erick dropped his voice, saying, “I’m not lying by any stretch of the word, Syllea. I’ve spoken to multiple gods, and Melemizargo himself, and seen thousands of shadelings speaking of what is to come. I’m not just helping Candlepoint; I’m also spying on them more than I ever could before. They honestly, truly, do seem like real people. But they’re not the problem. The Dark Dragon wants to escape Veird, and take his power elsewhere. The only problem I see with letting this happen, is that he could leave bombs behind, to kill everyone else. Maybe not physical bombs, but they don’t have to be.”

Syllea almost spoke halfway through Erick’s words, but she remained silent, and listened.

Erick continued, “So far, he needs three things to escape. He may need more, or less, but these three things are vital to his plan.” Erick listed, “One. He needs a way to move between planets of at least this solar system. Anything beyond that can come later. Two. He needs some way to create mana, for the mana trapped on Veird, under the Script, is the only mana left from the Old Cosmology. Without a new source, his space ships are dead in the water. Three. He needs a way to protect that mana from blowing away in this New Cosmology, both on the ship he would fly, and on the world he would colonize.

“There was a quest for a spaceship up on Candlepoint’s quest board, before I took the city from Bulgan. So at least that much seems in line with what we know he needs.” Erick said, “He probably knows how to make mana already, if there is a way. He probably already has copies of the Script ready to go, too, since the Script does a great job of keeping the mana on Veird.

“So maybe all he needs is a ship.”

Syllea listened. She silently considered, her eyes going wide, briefly. She said, “That’s a monster tale, if I ever heard one.” She added, “I don’t think he has a copy of the Script. That is Rozeta’s domain. Any attempts to copy the Script in any way end in various punitive actions from the Dragon Goddess, herself. But even if there’s no punitive actions… You can’t copy the Script.” She said, “Theoretically, you could make a new one. Maybe that’s the true point of the shadelings? The wrought make the Script. Shadelings could make a dark-Script. But only if they got out of the Script of Veird. I’m reasonably sure you can’t make a smaller Script in a larger Script, for the larger would automatically take precedence over the smaller, wouldn’t it?” She shook her head. “I don’t know. But besides that: You can’t get out to the Void, Erick. Once you get beyond the Script, gravity crushes you back. It’s an instant, non-magical action, too.”

Erick looked up, at the ceiling of the gazebo, thinking about what lay beyond the sky. He turned back to Syllea, saying, “But you can make a [Gate] to the moons, can’t you? Converter Angels or Breach Demons come back that way. There’s Script out there, too, no doubt, and the gravity must be a lot less.”

Syllea froze. She thawed quick enough. “No. Hell would never allow it. Celes is even less forgiving for what Melemizargo has done. There is no way Koyabez would ever condone such an action.”

It was Erick’s turn to freeze, as he realized something very important. Koyabez was Melemizargo’s old friend. Holy shit. That’s a weakness, right there.

Syllea noticed. She asked, “You have thought of something?”

Erick decided to be wildly optimistic, as he said, “I think Koyabez might allow it, in a few centuries of peace and calm action.”

Truthfully, he didn’t think it would take that long at all. A year. A decade of peace. If Melemizargo pulled out all the stops and ended every threat he ever created… Erick could easily see Melemizargo duping all the gods in a year, through his old friendship with Koyabez.

Syllea went silent, her facade perfectly controlled and neutral with thought. She softened, slightly, tentatively saying, “In a few centuries, I could see that happening.”

“But we’re here to talk about shadelings.” Erick said, “Whatever Melemizargo’s plans may be, if the shadelings are fake people, I doubt his plan would work. He wants us to actually work together, while lording power in his back hands to use against us if we step out of line.”

“You seem confident about that.”

“As confident as anyone can be about the actions of beings far above their station.”

Syllea smirked. “So not that confident at all.”

“About seventy five percent.”

Syllea sighed, then said, “Maybe the shadelings aren’t a trap, for us. At least not directly. But if they’re a trap for the gods, then it may be our duty to end the shadelings, just the same. If the gods are not there to empower us against the Darkness, then we are at the mercy of a being that has proven themselves ready and willing to kill on a whim, or on purpose, and then to abuse our souls afterward.”

“Melemizargo deserves to be Ended,” Erick said, feeling that the discussion took a sudden, awful turn, and the he needed to get it back on track. “But his creations are innocent.”

“Innocence doesn’t always matter when it comes to the Darkness.” Syllea said, “Especially if he’s plotting a long war to murder our gods.”

Erick did not want to get into that argument. He had planted seeds. He would see how they could grow. He changed the subject, asking, “Ready to speak to Justine?”

“Not yet.” Syllea asked, “I want to know what you want out of all this, Erick. I still owe you a bargain of trade from before, from your lecture at Oceanside. And now you’re giving me this knowledge of godly events and how to possibly cure my people… What do I owe you, this time?”

Erick almost asked of assistance with creating a tree [Familiar], or maybe some knowledge of Force Magic, or Mana Alterings. Syllea was a Force Mage, with known ability to transform her spells to meet any elemental need— Ah. That was actually something important that he needed to know.

“How do you make light defeat the dark?”

Syllea smiled, slightly. “I can help you with this. Very well. I accept. I wish to speak to Justine, now.”

Erick nodded, sent a message off to see if Justine was ready, which she was. He cast [Teleport Other], with the Ophiel waiting inside the house. As Justine appeared beside her [Prismatic Ward]ed chair, the Ophiel in the house went blipping back to Candlepoint, back to overseeing the city.

Syllea looked to the white-skinned, red-eyed incani. She sniffed. It was a dismissive sound. Or maybe not. Erick couldn’t quite tell. He just watched as Justine got her bearings, glancing around the gazebo to see Syllea’s people, and then Erick and Poi and Kiri. She turned to the other archmage in the meeting.

Justine bowed. “Greetings, archmage.”

Erick became nothing more than a facilitator, at that point. Syllea asked questions regarding the shadeling curse. Justine answered, open and honestly. She spoke of Melemizargo’s Heart, in Ar’Kendrithyst, where cursed shadelings needed to go in order to ‘listen to Melemizargo’s story’ whereupon he would personally cleanse the shadeling of their curse, if they wished. Syllea frowned at this, then proceeded to ask a multitude of questions Erick had never directly asked before, because he didn’t need to. Mostly, Syllea’s questions were of the ‘how do you know this’ variety, which ended up being answered with variations of ‘Melemizargo has declared Erick Untouchable, and he wants Erick educated, so she was given more information than most, and more clearance to speak’.

Erick was slightly perturbed by his own fate being laid out there, but those were the breaks.

This whole situation felt surreal, after a while.

And then it got worse when Syllea calmed, and asked, almost appearing to not want to ask, for she feared the truth, “On the matter of multiple Stats: can you explain why some were cursed, and others not? We haven’t found a single defining thread between anyone.”

Syllea’s companions leaned in at this, maybe half a step, but still remaining five steps away. Omaz, looking contrite. Bayth, looking two motions away from taking off someone’s head. Justine noticed their rapt attention, but turned back to Syllea. Erick felt the back of his neck prickle, as Justine spoke:

“Because they already know the truth. There is no need to force them to come to him, because they are already a part of Melemizargo’s Cult.”

Bayth launched at Omaz; one second she was still, the next all three hundred kilos of her was in the blond orcol’s face, her fist in his chest.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

Erick was ready for something, but not that. Syllea had no such problems adjusting to the event. All around the gazebo, clear, solid air snapped around every single person, like sudden explosive growths of crystal. Erick got one dose of the magic, Poi and Teressa each got their own. Crystals slapped around the dense air around Justine, but did not encroach into the [Prismatic Ward]. Though the crystal touched his skin, it didn’t hurt; this wasn’t exactly an attack.

Omaz and Bayth were instantly locked behind individual crystals, larger than the rest.

In half a flashing second, as the initial crystals materialized, what looked like a targeted, individualized spell, turned into something much stronger. Pillars of clear crystal erupted out of the stone gazebo, trapping everyone where they were, except for Syllea. She stood in the empty center of a sudden palace of jagged edges and solid panes of Force.

One second had passed since the spell started.

Erick was fine, probably. He had taken no damage, and now he was actively running [Hunter’s Instincts] as well as [Greater Lightwalk], so the world seemed marginally slower, as his thoughts happened faster, and his sight expanded far outside of his own body. He decided on doing nothing. Justine had decided the same, though she was definitely experiencing a ‘freeze’ response.

With a touch of light, that had already been wrapped around Justine’s ankle, Erick blipped her back to the house, to the foyer, where time seemed to resume and Justine promptly collapsed. She pulled herself to the wall, to huddle as she stared at the ground.

… She was not okay, but she was physically whole.

Teressa was not calm, in the crystal behind Erick.

Poi was calm, and he was already telepathically sending to him, and likely to Teressa too, because she calmed as Poi’s voice came to them, ‘Omaz has fled. Bayth tagged him. Please take down the spell, Archmage Syllea.’

… Poi was sending to all of them, apparently.

Syllea shook her hands in the air as her voice rang out, “FUCK.” Softer, but more violent, “Fuck! Omaz! What the fuck!”

Bayth, trapped in crystal, her voice muffled, but not really, shouted, “I TOLD YOU! I TOLD YOU!”

“He’s my gods’ dammed BROTHER, Bayth!”

“AND HIS HEAD SHOULD HAVE BEEN ON A PIKE YEARS AGO!” She yelled, “Cut the [Crystal], Syllea!”

The crystal around them all snapped. Force dissipated into fragments, and then glitter, then nothing. Piles of dust fell to the floor of the orange gazebo as the spell finished falling part. That dust become no more than air, as Syllea held her head in her hands, staring at the spot Omaz had been, whispering, “He’s my brother, Bayth.”

Bayth stood over the spot where Omaz had been. She stared at the ground, then whipped toward Syllea, saying, “He never should have come to this meeting. His involvement was suspect from the start. I told you that—” She cut herself off. She calmed, barely, as she asked, “Did you tell the elders yet, or should I?”

Quietly, and with her back to Erick, Syllea said, “They were listening in the whole time; yes. Treehome knows everything we heard.”

Erick felt briefly concerned. They had been watching the whole time? Ah. Well. People watched his house all the time, too, so maybe the extra eyes had been out there. By design, this wasn’t a private meeting.