105, 2/2

With thirteen blips, Erick and Poi arrived at his destination; a nicely appointed reading room in a tower fifteen stories high, with large picture windows that overlooked the twilight purple ocean in the east. Books filled the shelves of the reading room, while a small tea pot steamed gently under a [Heat Ward].

The Headmaster sat before the window, wearing his usual gold and white emperor robes. He greeted Erick’s entrance, “Welcome back to Oceanside.”

Erick stepped forward, saying, “Thanks for having me, and for helping with this problem.”

“It is no trouble.” The Headmaster did not stand from his chair, as he gestured to the seat across from him, across from the table holding the tea pot and assorted accessories. “Please, sit. Let us talk.” He gestured to the room, adding, “And then you may make use of this space however you wish.”

Erick glanced around the library. When he asked around for help with forming a city charter and creating laws for Candlepoint, Silverite gave him a copy of Spur’s Charter, but her main suggestion had been to speak to the Headmaster; he had a library devoted to city building for all would-be ‘mayors’, with all the necessary knowledge that such an undertaking would require. This small library that Erick was in right now, was that bastion of selected knowledge. Getting access to it required a fair number of hoops to jump through, but the Headmaster waived all of those when Erick asked him for his assistance.

Poi stepped backward, to the edge of the space, to stand tall and as unobtrusively as possible, while Erick walked forward.

He sat down across from the Headmaster, saying, “Thank you again for this. It is not really for me, though.”

“I know for whom and what you require city building knowledge.” The Headmaster lifted a hand, palm upward. Three books, each on the same shelf five meters away, blipped to his hand. They were thick books, heavy bound with dark leather. He set the tomes individually down on the tea table. “These three are ones you should read, first. These first two are the histories of the major failed city states of Veird, and why they failed. The last one regards the failures of smaller city states, which may be more beneficial for you than the first two. As an overview: About half of the larger city states failed due to inability to hold off the interests of their stronger neighbors, whether through trade, or war, or a multitude of other, social reasons, including concerns over resources. Half failed due to monster incursions, and systemic failures of defense. The ratio changes depending on where you are trying to create a city.” He gestured to the last book. “Smaller cities almost always fail due to monster incursions, either of those outside the walls, or those that find their way inside, like the various mental monsters of this world, or parasites.” With another gesture, he cast around the room, surrounding several bookshelves with a tiny glowing shimmer. “These are the ones for building laws. [Duplicate] whatever you wish, and hand it over to whoever you wish.

“But that is for later.” The Headmaster’s face took on a serious mien; his amber eyes glinting gold for the briefest of moments. He studied Erick. “For now, I wish for you to tell me everything you have heard and seen in Candlepoint.” He broke his own countenance, to offer, “Would you join me for tea?”

Erick accepted, saying, “I would; thank you.”

With one hand on the tea pot and another holding back the drape of the cloth of his arm, the Headmaster poured steaming amber tea into two cups. The flow of the liquid did not cause bubbles, or disturb the surface it created. Erick took his cup. The Headmaster took his own. Together, they sipped.

Then Erick started talking.

The Headmaster occasionally asked questions. Erick obliged with answers. Small discussions were had over clarifications of events witnessed. Erick held nothing back. The Headmaster, similarly, revealed that he already knew a great deal of what Erick had seen. Hours passed. The tea pot was filled and emptied a few times. They took a small break, then came back together for more discussion. As Erick neared the end of what he had seen of the city, and its people, he revealed something personal that he had waited till now to speak upon.

“Besides being Untouchable, there is something else I would like your opinion on.” Erick said, “Melemizargo offered to kill every Shade for me.”

He did not say what the cost would be; that it would require him becoming a Shade himself. But that truth would likely come out soon enough.

The Headmaster went stock still for a brief moment. Emotions flashed behind his stoic face; amazement, anger, hatred, concern, then finally, decision. He sighed. He said, “After your daughter was offered a Blessing and a station as ‘house cleaner’, I had hoped that nothing more would come of this particular obsession of Melemizargo’s. That you were declared ‘Untouchable’ was something I had also heard, but this last part…” With the weight of the world behind his level, golden eyes, the Headmaster asked, “What would he require for this to happen?”

Erick put it out there, “That I take their place.”

The Headmaster frowned. He turned his gaze toward the window, to the ocean, and the stars hanging in the darkness above. Erick watched him, waiting for some sign of good or ill.

The Headmaster sighed. “One life for countless is a good bargain.” He turned back to Erick, with a softer look in his now-amber eyes. “You would be dead, of course. Everything you were before, everything you made of yourself and your life… That would be over.”

“… That wasn’t the reaction I expected.”

The Headmaster laughed. “Were you expecting death and destruction?”

“Among other things.” Erick admitted, “I wasn’t sure where it would have been pointed, though.”

The Headmaster grinned, then lost his grin. He said, “I have a facade I show to the world. That facade demands your death, yes, but I am more than the parts of myself that others believe me to be.”

Now it was Erick’s turn to smile. He said, “That much is true of everyone.”

“Ah, Erick, Erick, Erick… You walk into the dragon’s maw far too often.” The Headmaster went silent for a time, then said, “You should—” He spoke with casual finality, “You should put Melemizargo’s idea out of your mind. This action of his is simply a longer confidence trick than most. He plans to make people believe that he is innocent of all evil, and then strike when we expose our necks. You have already accepted the burden of this city, and have chosen to perpetuate his plan. In a scant century, or less, Melemizargo will destroy us all. But that is still a century off, and it is possible for him to lapse in judgment and prove himself as the evil this world knows him to be.” He asked, “Or do you believe otherwise?”

“I don’t know about that.” Erick slightly changed the subject, asking, “Is there a way to prove the world is real?” At the Headmaster’s odd look, Erick clarified, “I don’t mean that as a rhetorical question. I mean in regards to Melemizargo’s insanity. How has he decided that this world isn’t real? Why has he decided that?”

The Headmaster nodded, then said, “There is no such thing as Objective Reality. There is only reality as a concept, and Reality, as it refers to the nature of existence around a specific viewpoint. Proving reality exists is fundamentally impossible, since we are beings that experience the world through senses, and senses can be fooled.” He frowned. “Bringing Melemizargo back to himself is therefore impossible. But it is true that he is more himself than he has ever been before.” The Headmaster said, “I have a theory on why this is, if you would like to hear it? It is not a complete theory, but it is better than what I have had before.”

“Yes. Please tell me.”

The Headmaster began, “To understand the depth of the problem, you must understand that Melemizargo was the God of Magic for an entire universe.” The Headmaster gazed out of the window. “Like the stars in these skies, the magics that made our worlds were uncountable and ancient beyond measure, and the worlds themselves were a higher count than that.” He turned back to Erick. “Floating cities the size of Glaquin, resting on the currents of the Mana Ocean. Sects of wizards, a thousand strong, responsible for the creations of millions of planes. Planes ten thousand times the size of Veird. Wizards that created magics, and then stabilized them, creating dynasties that lasted for thousands and thousands of years, and islands of stability like nowhere else in the Old Cosmology. But by that same token, wizards ran rampant, too, destroying worlds that were unprotected.

“The utter magnitude of what was lost… It is the difference between a million trillion, and one. Some would count the loss higher than that. I barely saw more than a dozen major sites and a hundred lesser locations, before the Sundering. I was only 300. I could adapt. Many could not.

“When we fell to Veird, and in the coming years… We lost thousands to suicide. The best minds in the Old Cosmology. The strongest shields. The most knowledgeable casters. We lost gods, too. Some of them had lost all their people, and so died to obscurity. Some simply decided not to continue, and so they laid down and died.

“The very nature of our reality had changed.

“The Script was our salvation. It allowed the Old Cosmology to survive. But our reality had changed. Mana, in its pure state, is mutable. It is possibility, and it is wonderful. But this carbon, hydrogen, oxygen, and nitrogen? These are solid. These are immutable. And yes, they are mutable to you, and to us, but they are not Mana. They are not what ancient gods, like Melemizargo, were accustomed with.

“And so, we come to the nature of Melemizargo’s Insanity.

“As a dragon, he had a real body, but as the God of Magic, his body was also the mana. It is not untrue to say that he was the Mana Ocean that spread across countless known planes, and who filled the unknown where civilization had yet to touch. He was everything and nothing, all at the same time. He was Darkness. He was Light. He was Fire and Stone, Water and Air. He was Shadow.

“These were the building blocks of our existence. The Fundamental Forces of our Old Cosmology.

“And so, not only was almost all of him destroyed in the Grand Translation…” The Headmaster paused. He said, “All of him was destroyed, and all that was left was the part remaining on Veird. A land that was not him at all. A land with a Script, that forced most of his power out of his being. A land made of particles and forces that were vastly outside of his domain.”

Erick said, “And so, he went insane. Poisoned by particles?”

“It is entirely possible that this is the truth of Melemizargo’s insanity.” The Headmaster said, “His is a piteous tale of an existence as large as a universe, transformed into something smaller than a shaving of a claw, and then stuffed into a ball of feces.” He said, “Even in his more lucid moments, when he claims of being forced into a [Mesmerize]? This is a poor rationalization of his new existence. It is an attempt to explain to himself how he could have ended up like this. He cannot accept the truth, and so, he falls to madness.” The Headmaster said, “He was not the only one to fall to madness in those first years. The Fae…

“We say that the Fae died in the Sundering, but in truth, they did not. They were too numerous to die off like that. They lived on every plane, under the guises of every people. Each one was an eternal reflection of the Mana Ocean, and of Nature. Many were here on Veird when the Sundering hit, and the Script came into being.

“Not a single one could adapt. Some went quietly; falling asleep, and then deeper, then fading away entirely. Some did not go quietly. Those, we had to kill before they killed everyone else.” The Headmaster looked away. A sad glint appeared in his eyes, as he said, “The single dwarven Stoneship and every single dwarf that managed to make it to Veird, all took refuge in the Underworld, attempting to carve out new lives for themselves down below. They lasted three years before Melemizargo killed them all.” He looked to Erick, saying, “The elves were allowed Archipelago Nergal to make their own, but they could not survive the judgment of the rest of the refugees.” He said, “This whole world was mad, in the beginning. Many died. Few got better. Melemizargo did neither.”

Erick changed the subject, “Why hasn’t the whole world worked together to end him?”

The Headmaster heard Erick, but he did not answer right away. He reached down to the tea pot, and filled his own cup. When he gestured for Erick, for more, Erick shook his head with the slightest of movements. The Headmaster sipped his tea. He sat back. He said, “Because he could kill us all.”

“How is that possible?”

The Headmaster frowned a little. He said, “He is a dragon, and a god.”

“… That explains nothing.”

“Hmm.” The Headmaster looked to Erick. He said, “Dragons exist. They have bodies. Melemizargo is no exception. Gods normally don’t have bodies, and because of this, they exist as the gestalt of their peoples; as impressions in the mana. Beings greater than the sum of their parts.”

“I knew… Some of that.” Erick said, “What I meant, though, was: Why don’t the gods kill him?”

The Headmaster leveled a sad look at him, saying, “Really, Erick. This is basic Tenday sermon stuff.”

“I understand about the agreements among gods to prevent divine wars.” Erick said, “But still!”

The Headmaster said, “The Script, Rozeta, and binding Divine Law prevents overt godly war. Gods must work through intermediaries when they wish to fight. Melemizargo has a body, so he is partially immune to this restriction. That is how he could kill us all; with his Wizardly power, using his true body. He’s already censured from almost all divine actions by the will of every single god of Veird, but that doesn’t matter when gods are not allowed to interfere directly in mortal affairs. Every single action he has ever undertaken, has been under his own, wizard power, for he is partially real.”

“… Oh.” Erick said, “Okay. That’s…” He asked, “Then it should be easier to kill a big dragon than it is to kill a god, correct?”

The Headmaster blanked. Then he chuckled. He laughed. He said, “Oh, were it that easy!” He said, “For the sake of the thought, let’s consider that someone actually managed to kill his mortal body and somehow— No. That’s too many assumptions. He’d still be a god. No mortal could kill a god. No dragon living today could inflict any meaningful damage upon Melemizargo. But let us theorize, and assume he was killed. In such a case, he could just remake his body. He is divine fire when he wishes, and solid when he does not.” He added, “Melemizargo might even let you fight his real body, and if by a True Miracle you won, he would just remake himself and pat you on the back, and likely grant you a boon for the distraction you granted him.”

Erick found himself getting angry. “Why don’t the other gods make themselves bodies!”

Turning slightly serious, the Headmaster said, “Now this is blasphemous, so try not to repeat this anywhere else. But that’s what Champions are. Partially.”

“… That makes me incredibly angry, for some reason.”

“If you are thinking that it is a conversion of a person into a god or anything like that, it is not.”

“… I was thinking of some soul fuckery, yes.”

The Headmaster nodded, saying, “I don’t interact much with gods or Champions, and have never been privy to their inner working, but my limited understanding of the process is that it is more of a gestalt. A voice in your head and a guiding hand for your sword. A touch of the divine; not a sweeping away of the Champion in order to fulfill the purpose laid down by their god. Though some Champions have called down the full power of their god in order to fulfill their chosen Quest, and have thus burned their souls to fuel their purpose. It’s all very proper, with no one getting into anything they don’t understand.” He added, “I understand it was not this way back in the Old Cosmology.”

“That makes me… slightly less angry.” Erick thought for a moment. “Actually. A lot less angry.”

The Headmaster continued, “There is a way to end Melemizargo’s threat, for good, though the odds of it ever happening are… It’s impossible. But maybe you’ll find a way.”

Erick felt his heart beat hard.

“I hardly ever tell anyone this truth, because once they confront him with the option, he invariably kills them.” The Headmaster asked, “Knowing this, do you wish to know the way?”

Did he wish to know! What kind of! Yes! Erick’s anger faded completely, as curiosity took hold. “How?”

“If Melemizargo voluntarily gave up his divinity, if he decided to continue the procession of power that allowed him to become the God of Magic when his own mother passed on, the next God of Magic could fix a lot of the problems he has created.” The Headmaster said, “But Melemizargo has only been the God of Magic for 12,000 years. His mother lasted well over a hundred thousand before she turned her station over to him.”

“Well, fuck.”

“Quite.”

Erick moved right along to the next topic, saying, “So I was thinking of what Melemizargo’s long term goals could be, what with this new sanity and all that.”

The Headmaster waited, listening.

Erick listed, “To find a way to create new mana. To find a way to contain that mana both on a space faring vessel, and on other planets, possibly with another Script-like magic. And to make a vessel capable of traveling to the other planets of this solar system.”

The Headmaster said, “Copying the Script’s basic functionality to contain mana to Veird would require Rozeta’s cooperation. A void vessel would require Koyabez’s.” He added, “The Demons or Angels could also work instead of the god of Peace, but I don’t see that happening.”

“Because Melemizargo could ask for a [Gate] up there, and then push off of the Silver Star with a lot less force than what is needed to leave Veird?”

The Headmaster nodded.

Erick had been right! He asked, “But what about making new mana?”

“It is an evil process that involves soul magic.” The Headmaster said, “That is all I will say on the matter.”

Erick filed away that bit of information for some other day, and asked, “How likely is it that he could get Rozeta or Koyabez’s cooperation?”

The Headmaster said, “He doesn’t deserve cooperation. But Koyabez… I could see forgiveness if the right steps are taken. Rozeta would not happen unless all the other gods agree to forgive, and that won’t happen unless the people of the world agree to forgive, and that won’t happen. The Geodes, in particular, would never forgive Melemizargo. They have been burned far too often by his treacheries.”

Erick was slightly stunned. He asked, “You actually think it would be possible for… For Koyabez to forgive Melemizargo for what he’s done?”

“There are certain steps Melemizargo could undertake to show a reformation. There are also certain steps he could never take, simply by nature of the Wizardry he has used to harm Veird.” The Headmaster said, “He could stop appointing Ancients, for that is something he does, personally, for each and every one. But he could not end all monsters, for that has been woven into the very nature of the Script, under the Foundational Bans, and laying those required all the Relevant Entities of the Script, some of which no longer exist. There are other steps similar to these, but they are too numerous to list even in a full day of lecture, so I will leave it at that.”

Erick sat back in his chair, thinking. His thoughts rapidly turned back to other obligations. He checked on Candlepoint, through the several Ophiel he had scattered between Oceanside and the shadeling city.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

… Candlepoint was fine, for now. Nothing had changed in the last half hour, since the last time he checked on the city.

The Headmaster’s voice brought him back to the moment. “You are a good overseer, Erick. I wish you well on Candlepoint. When the rest of the world comes for you, know that I will not stand against this shadeling city, or against you.”

Erick blinked long. He looked to the Headmaster, and said, “Thank you.” On a whim, he asked, “Would you happen to know what’s wrong with my eyes? They’re white, now.”

“Usually, this happens to people of faith, though it also tends to happen to archmages who are also Scions of Focus. Few will ever experience this side effect, though, as it requires extensive, prolonged use of strong magics, coupled with pursuing your personal goals in life to an almost devoted degree. The specific spells I’m referring to are anything with a differently colored Script prompt, which, anyone who knows anything, and who has been watching your activities, would deduce that you have acquired, at least, [Greater Lightwalk]. And possibly something else, as well.” The Headmaster said, “Congratulations on that, by the way.” He asked, “Are you going to teach your apprentice your method?”

Erick almost laughed. “If she’s learned anything from me, she’s probably already tried using what I’ve already taught her. She might have even made it today. She was supposed to finish in the dungeon in the last few hours.” Erick glanced to the window. The sun was maybe two hours away. He said, “I actually might need to pick her up, soon.” He smiled, “And Jane.”

The Headmaster smiled, then stood, saying, “It is time for both of us attend to other duties, and for you to pick out some books. Good luck with Candlepoint. Try to keep yourself safe, if you can.”

Erick stood, saying, “Thank you, Headmaster. Your help has been greatly appreciated.”

The Headmaster smiled, then asked, “Is there any other pressing news? We are in a time of turmoil; if there’s anything else you think I need to know, then I can sit back down.”

Erick felt a warmth in his chest. It was a good feeling. He said, “Probably about a thousand things. But just a moment.” With a concentrated thought, he had an Ophiel near his house blip himself, and an item from Erick’s tower, closer to another Ophiel down the chain, who then proceeded to do the same. After ten seconds, while the Headmaster looked to Erick, questioningly, an octahedron diamond flickered into Erick’s open palm. “I made this spell, but different. I understand the original belonged to an old friend of yours.” He cast, and the diamond turned void dark, sucking in all light, becoming like a piece of reality cut out from the whole. Erick said, “It works rather well for Stat enchantments.” He offered the gem to the Headmaster.

The two of them had been talking well, like old business friends, for hours. But when the Headmaster saw that dark gem…

The Headmaster stood rigid, expressionless, and distant, as he gazed upon the void diamond in Erick’s outstretched hand. He lifted his hand to reach for it. He hesitated. With a forced, smooth motion, he took the gem. He sighed, his professional mask breaking in small ways. In the crinkles to the sides of his eyes. In the slight frown of his lips. He breathed deep, and let out a small shudder. He smiled. He folded his fingers over the gem. Gold light spilled from the cracks, and when he opened his palm, the void gem was gone.

“Thank you,” he said. He breathed deep, again. “Tulamana Blackvoid was a wonderful, infuriating, brilliant woman.” He laughed. “I would advise you to tread carefully with this spell, but you are already a Stone Elemental in a pottery shop and you’ve already created artifacts that outlast her [Blackvoid] rings by an order of magnitude.” He said, “Perhaps… Perhaps giving them away for free to empower a city, or as rewards… Perhaps this was the proper response to societal pressures. She tried to sell them. Mostly, she was successful. But then she wasn’t.”

“I heard she fell to the Shades.”

“It wasn’t quite that simple.” The Headmaster said, “Hers was a time of dangerous new magics on Veird. Not unlike which has happened before, not unlike which will happen again, but her waves were smaller than the waves you have caused.

“She sold trinkets to kings for exorbitant amounts, and she spurned cities who wished to be her benefactor. She sold to both sides of wars, and played people against each other when they tried to play her.” The Headmaster said, “She did not want to live a simple life, at all. But yes, eventually the Shades wanted to play with her, and she spurned them, too. The only reason that history records her death at the hands of the Shades was because they were the first to succeed. Others were hot on her trail.” He looked to the dark skies outside, and said, “We will talk again, Erick. Thank you for this old man’s tangents. It is good to reminisce, sometimes.”

“See you later.”

“And you, as well.”

The Headmaster blipped away in a flash of gold.

Erick had wanted to ask a few more questions, but that was more than enough for one night. He glanced down to the books left on the tea table, then turned and walked out of the library, hurrying fast to the bathroom. With the necessities out of the way, he came back and began rummaging through the shelves. Hours passed. With Poi’s help, Erick picked out a hundred books, and copied them all. As the sun rose on the other side of the city, and night retreated past the western horizon, turning the sky back to bright blue, a good pile of books laid stacked on Ophiel’s [Teleporting Platform]. Erick sent the [Familiar] blipping on ahead, to deposit those books in the library of the house, back in Spur.

Erick glanced out the window one more time. The city was waking up. Soon, the shops would be opening, too. And right on time. He turned to Poi, and said, “Are Kiri and Jane ready for some shopping?”

“They are.”

The two of them blipped away in a flash of white.

 

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