108, 1/2

Erick woke up from a great night’s sleep, and then realized what was to come. He briefly thought of running away, and then he considered a preemptive strike, and then he considered going to Anhelia and devising a well-coordinated strike with all of the other people she had managed to line up, whoever they might be. It would be bloody and well deserved.

The moment passed.

He got up, got clean, got dressed, and got on with his day. After a nice breakfast, Erick left the house with Poi on one side and Jane on the other. It was time for some clothes shopping. Erick asked for recommendations and Poi provided, while all others had nothing to add. Poi’s recommendations were a good enough place to start as any.

There was a slight hiccup in the beginning when he walked into the high-class tailor shop, at the edge of the Incani District. It wasn’t a large occurrence, but he was almost shooed away by a teenager when Erick stepped inside the store. Luckily, an older man tore the kid out of Erick’s sight and took control of the transaction. The man now in charge of Erick’s clothes shopping experience was a serious, dark-skinned incani, who rattled off some questions in a rather no-nonsense manner. What did Erick want? What was he looking for? Casual wear? An outfit for a party? A full wardrobe change? He asked the last question with a bit more enthusiasm than all his others.

“A wardrobe change. Something easy to wear, and good enough for any climate.” Erick added, “I’m also looking for enough clothes for a week of parties. Dangerous parties, where I will be using [Conjure Armor].”

With a look of satisfaction that barely made it past his eyes, the man asked, “May I see your [Conjure Armor]?”

Erick obliged.

Layered, white cloth, stretched down across Erick, looking like something birthed of scalemail and leather, and made of kevlar. A hood appeared around his head, while a full mask covered his face, yet did not impede his eyesight, or his breathing. His shoes became boots made for stomping, while nimble, yet heavy gloves covered his hands. Ophiel remained on Erick’s shoulder, but barely moved as the conjuring proceeded, only shifting slightly as white layers rippled under his wings and across Erick’s shoulder. When the conjuring was done, Ophiel turned into a shoulderpad made of eyes and wings, draping one wing behind Erick’s shoulder, while stretching eyes along that wing to give both him and Erick a full view of every direction.

Erick hadn’t even asked Ophiel to do that. The little guy had done it all on his own. Erick approved, and Ophiel trilled in tiny violins at the approval.

The tailor walked around Erick, eyeing the conjuring. “It is not comfortable to wear normal attire with this sort of armor.”

“Correct.” Erick lowered his hood, saying, “I can deal with that, but if you can create clothes that avoid this problem, that would be great.”

“I don’t get a chance to outfit many archmages, but most mages I know go for armored robes that layer over their existing clothes. Is there a reason this is your preferred conjuring?”

Erick had never used his [Conjured Armor] as much as some people used theirs, and there was a reason for that besides not just never needing to don armor to fight a monster in the flesh. Erick never wore his armor around town, either, because not only was it uncomfortable, he also didn’t like wearing the other options available. Heavy armor? Plate and pauldrons? Greaves and gauntlets? No thanks. Erick had tried conjured robes, but aside from his admittedly meager experience in armored robes, taking the hit of a spell before that spell struck him, robes were pretty shit versus practically all dangerous things in this world. Even this conjured kevlar wasn’t that great against the more deadly magics Erick had seen, and it was theoretically worthless against some of his own spells. But, as he had learned in the arena of Oceanside, and sparring with strangers, tighter armor was good for stopping an errant knife, or a whole host of other, smaller, physical weapon strikes. Robes couldn’t do that, and besides, they were not very aerodynamic. Why did arcanaeum-trained mages wear robes, anyway? Maybe they used their robes to more easily fly?

… Maybe they weren’t a hindrance, but pseudo-wings? Oh? Interesting idea. But. Eh. Whatever.

Erick said, “I don’t like robes.”

“I can create thin, fashionable garb for use with this type of armor. There should be minimal bunching.” The man added, “I can also create thin, acceptable attire, where there will be no bunching.”

Surprised, and happy that clothes like that were an option, Erick briefly remembered having to remake his [Conjured Armor] a few times back in Oceanside’s Arena, because the bunching got uncomfortable. Thank god that was over! He should have gotten a whole new wardrobe long before now.

He said, “Yes! Both. I’ll also need a few outfits that are dinner party fashion, without regard for this [Conjure Armor]. I can turn this into undergarments for such an occasion.”

The tailor nodded, then set to work.

Erick dismissed his armor. The tailor took Erick’s measurements, then wheeled out some options on some mannequins. Erick steered clear of the popular sultan/mobster options that Al liked to wear, with the tight vests and the billowing sleeves and pants, opting for a more casual, yet visually appealing, pant/half-robe combo, done in lots of greys, browns, and a few other desert colors. Those would be normal wear, while a few very nice outfits in varying styles and colors would be for formal occasions. His white [Conjure Armor] would be fine under the formal wear, formed into longjohn underwear.

When all his picks were done and the tailor went off to [Fabricate] Erick’s clothes, Erick, Jane, and Poi, were escorted to a small side room, where refreshments were provided by the teenager from before. The boy now looked rather contrite, never lifting his face to look Erick in the eyes, and only staying for a moment, to ensure that everyone had their refreshments.

Jane sat back in a plush chair, sipping her tea, smiling. “You picked out some good stuff, dad.” She said to Poi, “Good choice, coming here.”

Poi smiled, saying, “Tailor Bodiz regularly showcases his work at Portal’s Fashion Symposium. Many agree that he could have gone on to Eidolon’s Worldwide Fashion Symposium, but he prefers this smaller business, and his elite clientele. And Spur’s contracts.”

Erick laughed, as he looked around at the fine furniture and the subdued elegance all around him, then said, “I didn’t know we were coming to a place like that.”

“It’s usually a six month waiting list to see him, but he has filed and we have accepted his standing request to outfit the Army and Guard, as needed, and for a discount. When you accepted my recommendation of a place to shop, I informed him of his opportunity.” Poi said, “He does most all the formal wear for every soldier we have.”

A sudden thought occurred to Erick. “But where do you wear your formal wear? Are there parties I don’t know about?”

“Diplomatic events; not parties.” Poi looked to the air, listening to a tendril of thought. He said, “The last one was a few days after Candlepoint appeared. It involved a few squad leaders and district leaders, and some visiting nobles from the Greensoil Republic. Our new Noble neighbors, the Clayfields, were a part of that party. It was before they decided to move here, and may have been part of the reason for them to do so.”

“… Huh,” Erick said.

Time passed quickly, for Tailor Bodiz worked fast.

Erick tried on his new clothes, right away. They fit wonderfully. Bodiz visibly relaxed, seeing Erick in new clothes, far removed from his white-shirt, brown-pant ways. Now, he wore light grey pants, with a robe-like shirt with long sleeves to protect from the sun, or to hide his hands. Erick briefly went over his other new clothes, happy to see the formal options looking really good. Black and regal, then white and thin, with blues and reds and browns, and some options having gold brocade, and others subtly decorated with silver. All of it looked good. All of it fit well. The thinner options even felt comfortable under his [Conjure Armor], which was a nice change of pace.

Erick rapidly changed clothes with [Clothe], too, and upon seeing Erick’s outfit-shifting spell in action, Tailor Bodiz’s demeanor seemed to relax a bit further; he approved.

The total bill came to 95,000 gold, and though Erick choked at the cost, he paid.

Tailor Bodiz had even included shoes, boots, belts, and other accessories.

Erick was loathe to part with his sneakers, but he could hang those up somewhere, for a while. His new leather boots were rather comfortable. He had not expected that, but then again, [Mend] and [Fabricate] were both rather widespread spells. 95,000 gold for a set of clothes that would never go bad? Sure, that seemed reasonable.

… It was not reasonable at all, but Erick paid anyway, and thanked the man for his service.

Tailor Bodiz bowed upon completion of the event, returning Erick’s own words to him, saying “Thank you for your service, Archmage Flatt. Spur is quite a bit more wonderful, with you around.”

By that time, it was already past noon.

With the three of them hungry, Jane led the way to her favorite eatery, just south of the Human District. ‘Meat! Bread! Cheese!’ was a great little place, with cheesesteak subs and lots of fries and this new thing they were making with patties of beef and lots of onions on sliced bread, that they were coincidentally calling a ‘patty melt’. The line wasn’t even that long today. But something else caught his eye as they approached the eatery. They had expanded since the last time Erick had been here. Right next door was a new place, called ‘And Dessert!’. Cakes and pies and candies sat in the window, looking good under icing or sugar…

But no chocolate! Not yet.

Erick asked Jane to get lunch, while he scoped out the new store.

Jane laughed, saying, “No way! I’m going right in there with you; I want to see it, too.”

They walked into ‘And Dessert!’ together.

It was a nice little shop with a long counter filled with treats, and a wall of cakes sitting behind glass in the back. The whole place smelled of sugar and odd flavors. Erick definitely smelled flowers, along with some citrus, but not a lot. Strangely enough, spices also filled the air. Two other shoppers gazed upon the confections beyond the glass, while another bought a cake in a paper box from a kindly old woman Erick recognized. The vendor’s kids must have finally kicked the woman out of their store.

Jane went right up to the counter, exclaiming, “Oh! They have puff puffs! They do exist.”

Erick smiled wide, joining his daughter at the display. His eye caught on the puffed rice treats. A sigh of contentment escaped him, and he said, “I need a whole lot of those.”

Jane teased, “If they don’t taste the same, then you’ll have to invent marshmallows, too.”

“I’m not messing with cattle hooves, Jane.”

The older greyscale woman finished up with the other customers, and came to Erick and Jane, saying, “Hello, Archmage Flatt. I almost didn’t recognize you in that outfit.”

Erick smiled. “Hello, Mrs Skytouch.” He thumbed at the wall that separated ‘Meat! Bread! Cheese!’ from ‘And Dessert!’, saying, “I almost didn’t recognize you. I was wondering which one of you split off to here. Did you get tired of working at your kid’s place?”

“Oh no no no. Not at all!” Mrs Skytouch smirked, saying, “Your visits brought in the money, but my kids wanted me out of there. Now I got my own employees to bother—”

A door to the backroom swung open, revealing another older greyscale; Ratchet, the spice woman. Wearing an apron splattered with flour, looking like she was in the middle of baking, she exclaimed, “I thought I heard about an archmage!”

“Ratchet? What?” Erick smiled. “You’re here, too?”

“Welcome to the store, Erick!” She waved a hand. “My spice shop got too big so I gave it over to my kids, but I decided I couldn’t retire.” Ratchet gestured to Mrs Skytouch, saying, “I got together with my old friend here, and we decided to start our own place.”

“Well good for you. For both of you.” Erick said, “I can already tell I want some of those puff puffs you got in the counter, there. But what’s that spicy scent for?”

Mrs Skytouch said, “Spice cakes. They’re one of our best sellers. Ratchet’s recipe.”

“And I can’t make enough of them,” Ratchet said, “Can’t make enough of those lemon cakes, either. That’s a big seller.” She tapped the glass behind her, where red-iced cakes sat behind cover, saying, “That’s what goes in that empty spot, right there.”

“It looks full to me.” Erick smiled, happy for the small talk.

“I rearrange it to keep it looking full, all the time,” Mrs Skytouch said. “You know me; I can’t stop meddling.”

“Are you two using vanilla in your products?” He asked Ratchet, “You still selling a lot of that— Or. I guess your children are running that, now?”

“Aye, they are. They got my fields in the Garden, but I personally [Grow] all the stuff for this place in my own backyard.” Ratchet said, “Vanilla’s a big seller.”

Mrs Skytouch said, “I love that vanilla.” She eyed Erick adding, “I’m also interested in whatever stuff you were making yesterday. Everyone wants to know what it was. Some people said it smelled like candy, but ain’t no candy I ever saw that came out of fermenting beans. Least of all from a tarip tree!”

Ratchet eyed Erick, too, adding, “People’ve asked me what you’ve been making, but I don’t like too much gossip. I got a theory, though! It’s that ‘coffee’ you talked about before. Am I right? Was it?”

Erick chuckled, saying, “It’s not coffee, but that’s not too far away.”

And then he got down to business.

There was a major reason he came into ‘And Dessert!’, and it wasn’t just because the place was new and he wanted some puff puffs. Seeing Mrs Skytouch in charge of this place, and Ratchet, too, solidified his decision to share his chocolate with ‘And Dessert!’, well before the topic ever came up. He knew the topic would come up, though. If they hadn’t spoken about it, he would have, because Ratchet was a good business woman well versed in spices, and Mrs Skytouch was a good cook who baked all the bread for ‘Meat! Bread! Cheese!’ next door.

Jane left to go get lunch, while Erick sat down with both of the older women, to speak of chocolate. Half an hour later, Erick left ‘And Dessert!’ with a huge basket of samples, a tray of puff puffs, and a meeting time for both Ratchet and Mrs Skytouch to come by the house. He also learned Mrs Skytouch’s first name; Arial.

 

– – – –

 

There were a few things to do before Shadow’s Feast. One of them, was to unlock the extra points from creating a spell of tier 7, 8, and 9, and in the process, become a true archmage, in the usual sense.

Inventing a whole new school of magic was one thing, but every other archmage got that designation by creating a tier 8 spell; an accomplishment that very few could ever hope to achieve. Spells usually exploded in both cost and danger to their caster, when they got to that level. Even if one managed to make such a spell the first time, it was often too expensive to cast more than once.

Erick had joked about how he ‘wasn’t a real archmage’ more than a few times, to Kiri, to Jane, to Poi, to others. But, if he were being honest with himself, gaining his title without actually having struggled for it, made him feel an odd sort of way. Like he had stolen a seat at a table where he did not truly belong. He didn’t really care about the validity of his title, and every archmage he knew treated him like one of them, but it would be nice to be a true archmage, in the usual way. So, to that end, it was time to become a real archmage, in the usual way.

Erick stood beside Kiri, in his mage tower. Before the two of them were blank chalkboards, while in their hands was chalk. Poi stood to the back. Erick would have liked to have Jane here, as well, but she was off doing her own thing right now, whatever that might be.

Poi said, “I still think that [City Shape] is a good tier 8 spell.”

Erick frowned. He had considered [City Shape] enough to research it, and that was all. That spell began with a tier two spell called [House Shape] that was [Stoneshape], [Watershape], and [Force Wave]. Most people bought this spell, though Erick figured he could make it himself. But to get to [City Shape], it was Mana Shaping for 500, six times in a row, each Shaping further and further expanding the spell’s area of effect. Shapings for 500 was one of the few ways one could continually expand the scope of a spell without having to break it down and start all over, as one would need to do with Alterings.

But no one tried to make [City Shape] that way, because Mana Shaping for 500 got multiplicatively more expensive the more times you used it in a row to continually do the same thing, such as increase the area of a spell. There was apparently this whole chain of spells, from [House Shape] to [Village Shape] to what was eventually [Town Shape], and then [City Shape]. There was also a [Metropolishape] at tier 9, but you had to make that one yourself. [City Shape] was the first iteration of that spell line that rearranged the Underworld to bring up water from below, but only if that water was nearby. You couldn’t just [City Shape] anywhere and expect to get water.

[Metropolishape] held no such water restrictions, and while that was interesting, Erick was not interested enough to get archmage certification by buying his way there. Now that would truly make him feel like a fraud.

Erick said, “I’m not doing that. I don’t want to make cities for nobles.” He said, “But [True Plasma Bolt] as a [Meteor Shower] type of spell? Now that seems useful.”

Kiri went to the board and wrote Erick’s idea down, saying, “If all you want is the points and the true title of ‘Archmage’, you should try for something you’re willing to give up. Leave ‘[True Plasma Shower]’ for when you’re sure you can make it work.”

“… True.” Erick changed tracks, saying, “I suppose a [Force Bolt] run through seven alterings would be enough to gain tier 8. But that seems… Boring.”

Kiri giggled, as she wrote down ‘Bolt through 7 Alters’, and said, “That’s one way to get it done. It’s not as easy as you might think. Other archmages have done it this way—” She paused. “Oh. There’s a lot more than six elements. Right. Hmm. Actually. That might be a lot more feasible than I had thought.”

With a small laugh, Erick said, “The only trick to being an archmage is knowing more than other people.”

Kiri stood stock still for a moment, before uttering, “Huh.”

Erick smiled as he thumbed toward Poi, saying—

Poi laughed, sudden and only partially unexpected.

Undaunted, and with a larger smile than before, Erick said, “I bet our guy Poi over here is a secret archmage.”

Kiri waved a hand, saying, “Impossible. Everyone knows that Mind Mages never go above tier 4.”

“… I didn’t know that.”

Poi said, “Not everyone knows, but most do.”

“Really?” Erick asked, “Why limit yourselves—?” He stopped, mid-sentence, suddenly aware of the answer. By limiting themselves to tier 4, they stayed away from archmage-levels of power, because for a Mind Mage to seek power and fame seems like exactly opposite of what their entire hidden society desired.

Kiri said, “They’re already hiding themselves from wrongful prosecution. Becoming archmages would just put another target on their backs.”

“Correct,” Poi said.

But there were still facts that didn’t add up.

Erick almost frowned, concluding that a great many of his better spells were only tier 2, like [Prismatic Ward] and [Summon Ophiel], but he let that tangent lie, and returned to the discussion at hand, asking, “What’s the best way to achieve tier 9?”

Kiri shook her head, saying, “There is no ‘best way’. Almost all magic gets too complicated around tier 5 or 6. Each shift from the Base Spell either unravels or harmfully mutates the intent and scope of the working. But… with your particular understanding of magic…” She frowned. “Maybe that’s not exactly what’s happening? Maybe the harmony is just coming apart.”

“Well… If I was designing a magic system so that wizards and whatnot couldn’t go around destroying everything anymore, I’d put a cap on maximum mana churned through, or whatever you want to call it.” Erick added, “Probably have to make multiple plateaus of power. The normal limit could be around tier 4, with higher limits at tier 6, which is where I first fucked up with [Death Spiral Plasma].” He added, “It seemed to be going well at the time, but if I recall correctly, I had just used Mana Shaping for 500 to get [Endless Plasma Wrap], and I poured 500 more into a second Shaping, hoping for a good [Death Spiral Fire]. I got a decent version, but the mana cost skyrocketed from 1100 to 17,000.” Erick said, “Knowing what I know now… One possible explanation is…

“Take an auditorium.” Inspiration struck, as Erick continued, “Take an auditorium. A stage. For all the world’s a stage, don’t you know. Take this stage, and compare it with the power of your spell. If the size of the stage is good for the music you wish to cast upon the space, then it reverberates well. The sound echoes, the music builds. Magic happens. But if you spend 500 mana just to increase the size or scope of your spell, without adjusting the music itself in the process… Then the volume of your music has to be drastically increased in order to fulfill its intended effect.”

For a long moment, Kiri looked as though she had laid eyes upon a difficult math problem that she couldn’t instantly solve. Slowly, she said, “… Stringing together multiple Shapings is one of the easiest ways to trigger a massively increased cost, unless you’re perfect with it.”

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

“Exactly!”

“I don’t know, Erick.” Kiri added, “But you have that bargain of trade with the red harpy, Ryul. I remember hearing about him at Oceanside, and he got to archmage status as a pure Force Mage, well honed in the art of Shaping.”

“… That’s a good point, but…” With a small dismissive wave, Erick said, “I’m not going to bother him with that. My idea is in its infancy, and Ryul is a part of Nelboor politics, and I’m pretty sure I can figure out Shapings on my own. Besides, after hearing about Styles, and remembering that Syllea also spoke about Styles, and how Styles are all the rage over there… I think that’s what I’m going to consult him on. You know. Eventually.” Erick said, “But back to the power limits of magic:

“We know that spellwork gets harder as scope increases. In addition to this, I’m guessing that there are set limits in the Script at certain points, to prevent abuses of magic. For whatever reason—” Erick smiled, remembering something he heard long ago, back when he was first starting out as a mage in Spur, after he made [Call Lightning]. “For whatever reason, mages are at tier 4, or the ability to cast Super Long Range spells, whichever you manage to make first. At that level, a true ‘mage’ is required to defend whatever city they inhabit.” He looked to Poi. “Or maybe that’s just Spur?”

Poi answered, “Not just Spur. Every major city on Glaquin and most other cities in other parts of the world, all require known mages with either tier 4 magic or Super Long Range damage spells to report for duty in defense of their city versus monster attacks. Some cities even require compliance versus all attacks. Warriors also have the same requirements in certain places, but they’re not as globally regulated as mages.”

Kiri said, “But that’s… That’s such a low bar. No serious mage would think of tier 4 or ‘SLR’ as a true bar to entry. It’s more of a rite of passage.”

“That may be true,” Erick said, “But it still counts as a bar to pass.” As Kiri reluctantly hummed, then agreed, Erick continued, “So taking that into account, archmages are at tier 8. Therefore, there must be a meaningful limit between tier 7 and 8, which is similar in scope to the limiters between tier 3 and 4.” He added, “But that’s just a guess.”

Kiri said, “This is the Script we’re talking about. No one really knows how it works. All we have are ideas based on practiced evidence. Some ideas work better than others, but since all magic is partially subjective, there are multiple paths to power in the Script.” She added, “I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again, but each tier you go up is supposed to allow your working to access more power. This is the only thing that most every scholar agrees upon.”

“Well. Yes. That is a very good point, Kiri.” Erick said, “So how about this: Maybe, costs rocket and spells malign when your creation attempt does not coincide with the power available at those tiers? Maybe there’s a limit to the size of the stage you can create, and the depth of the music.” He added, “Well… Maybe not. A lot of my spells are low tier.”

Kiri said, “I was just about to say: A lot of your spells are only tier 2.” She added, “And [Control Weather] is Basic Tier.”

“[Gate] is basic tier, too.”

“… True.”

Erick said, “I don’t know if you’re going to be able to buy my [Control Weather] at tier 1. I might be grandfathered in on that one.” He rapidly added, “Or. Wait. You’d call it ‘immortal’d in’.”

Kiri had tilted her head in thought over Erick’s words, but at his explanation, she shrugged, saying, “Maybe so. Won’t know for another year. But [Call Lightning] might be there next month.”

“All you need is the Class.” It was Erick’s turn to shrug, as he added, “You’ll likely need to make [Call Lightning] yourself, like I remade those [Teleport] magics. You already have all the rhymes and intents and particle knowledge, though, so that shouldn’t be too difficult.”

Kiri chuckled.

Erick conceded, “Well. Yes. Maybe it will be difficult. But you’re young! And you have Sunny to help.”

Kiri smiled, as happiness seemed to fill her form. She shook her head a little, then turned back to the blackboard, saying, “But anyway! Back to archmage certification. Going off of your analogy, we could conclude that there is a limit to the size of your magic based on the stage you set…” She paused. “I think you’re missing something.”

That knocked something else loose in Erick’s memories. He turned to Poi. “What’s ‘magnitude’?”

“I cannot say,” Poi graciously said.

And that was it. No more words came from the sapphire-scaled man as he returned Erick’s look of disapproval with his own look of complete, practiced indifference. Erick gleaned no information from that look, except that it was Poi’s usual look, taken to an extreme Erick had seldom seen, except for when Poi accompanied him to places like the Wayfarer Guild meeting, or the meeting with Syllea, or with Baroness Pirazel Xelxex.

Erick turned back to Kiri, saying, “Okay. So. Magnitude is the maximum power level of any given spell.”

Completely disbelieving, Kiri gasped, “He told you?!”

“Of course not.” Erick continued, “But most of my personally created spells are magnitude 7. The magnitude of the Red Dot that almost killed Spur was magnitude 9. This is an easy enough mechanic of the Script to test. All I need to do is try to turn one of my Magnitude 7 spells into Magnitude 9, and then try to go beyond. It is entirely possible that this is what happened to my [Death Spiral Plasma]. I was trying to go up in power too fast.” He realized something, then added, “[Exalted Storm Aura] is tier 2. It might still be Mag 7?” He looked to Poi.

Surprising everyone, and most of all Erick, Poi said, “That spell is still magnitude 7. Almost all of your Particle spells are Magnitude 7.”

“What level are my spells?” Kiri asked.

Poi just smiled, and said nothing.

Kiri frowned.

Erick eventually, said, “I don’t know what to make of anything.”

“No no. Hold on.” Kiri said, “There’s something here.” She paused. She said, “Okay. New theory: Magnitude is the power level of a spell. In order to break above Mag 7, you must both have the spell be Mag 7, at tier 7, and then add something more to make a tier 8 spell that is then Mag 8. Attempting to break this imposed barrier before tier 8 means that you will fail.” She added, “There’s likely more to it than that, though, and I have no idea if tier 8 really means anything, but the Headmaster and others put a value on that tier, so it might.”

Long moments passed as Erick and Kiri both thought.

Kiri spoke up, “As long as you stay low-power, or correct-power, maybe getting to tier 9 isn’t that hard?”

“Possible.” Erick said, “It’s also possible that all of this is completely wrong.”

Kiri laughed. “Yeah.”