113, 2/2

Erick stood in the living room of Quilatalap’s cottage, by the window, looking out over the wild garden, to the golden gate that separated this land from the Palace. He was still in the middle of trying to figure out what the fuck just happened, but some people had already made their thoughts known by stepping to the closed gate of the property and kowtowing toward the house. Other people were simply kowtowing to the Ophiels he had set up on top of the wall.

He closed the blinds and turned to the kitchen, just beyond the living room. Quilatalap had switched out of his armor and donned a dark, comfortable robe, and was now pulling items out of the cold box; thick steaks, onions, and even some of Erick’s vegetables; corn and potatoes, mostly. Fallopolis sat on the couch, smiling at Erick, waiting for him to speak.

Erick asked whoever felt like answering, “What did you you think ‘Fire of the Age’ meant? Because I did not think it meant… that.”

Fallopolis looked to Quilatalap.

Quilatalap said, “Historically, it was the title given to those who brought about a fundamental shift in magic, on a grand scale, but you must understand that there hadn’t been a true, declared Fire of the Age in the Church of Melemizargo for… For hundreds of thousands of years before the Sundering.

“After the Sundering, the Church lost most of its power, for as Melemizargo fell to insanity and began murdering whoever he could, so did the Clergy. There was a Fire of the Age declared every few decades in the beginning, whenever someone managed to murder a whole lot of people. There was that one time, in 210, where there were two Fires living at the same time. Each time, it was either Melemizargo himself, or his Clergy, who declared those Fires.

“This is likely why no one cared about your own declaration until now.

“Personally, adding Particle Magic to the Script seemed like a ‘Fire’ thing to do. I never thought much of it. Maybe I forgot the truth of the title? Maybe I forgot that a Fire of the Age was something… Something more. I’ve forgotten a lot more than most will ever know, and those early centuries saw a lot of corruption.” He looked to Erick, saying, “The Mind Mages, and the Wrought led quite a few Forgotten Campaigns back then.” He smirked. “They never got me, though.”

Fallopolis sat enamored. She asked him, “What Fires do you remember from the Old Cosmology?”

“There’s the obvious one, but let me see… How did it go…” Quilatalap got to thinking as he set a large cast-iron flattop over the stove and turned on the heat. He picked up a bunch of chopped potatoes and tossed them in a bowl, along with oil and spices; Erick hadn’t seen him cut up the potatoes, or any of the other veggies, but it had happened. He tossed the potatoes onto the grill, and said, “Ah. Yes. That’s what it was called back then. Here’s the story: Hundreds of thousands of years ago there was a Fire of the Age who engraved her life upon the entire Cosmology, when she invented the Automagic Manaminer. I forget her name, but her invention quickly became a central part of every defensive structure in the Old Cosmology.”

“Oh!” Fallopolis said, “Yes. The manaminers.”

Quilatalap nodded to her, continuing, “The original item was changed in a million different ways by a billion different people, but the most notable manaminers to come about were the ‘Loremakers’, created by the dwarves in the Radiant Depths of the Old Cosmology, and then stolen by the elves of the Maelstrom Wave. Both the Loremaker and the elven ‘Sanguinizer’ became the top two manaminers on the open market. The first, because it denied access to the mana to anyone who was not an allowed person, and the security system on the manaminer involved the willing souls of the ancestors who would vet any possible users. The Loremakers’ security system was incredibly robust. The elven Sanguinizer was widely praised for similar reasons, except access was linked to bloodlines; a lot of people flocked to that one because they didn’t like soul magic. The reason the Automagic Manaminers were such a game changer was because they allowed the easy casting of specific spells, and the denial of those not approved.

“If this sounds similar to what you’ve already experienced, it should.”

“Oh my gods.” Erick said, “It’s the Script, isn’t it?”

“You’ll hear more about this later, at the Second Telling.” Quilatalap said, “But I can just tell you now: At the time of the Sundering, Automagic Manaminer technology was already on Veird. At that time, it was one of a dozen such manaminers overseen by Rozeta, the previous Second to the then-current God of Magic, Melemizargo. The manaminer on Veird was even empowered by Koyabez, who was one of the few divinities who routinely split off pieces of himself in order to empower the defensive manaminers on his various worlds, to make them truly powerful; to protect his people.

“But even a divine manaminer was barely enough to survive the Sundering.

“Plane-sized Primal Lightning ripped across the Mana Ocean, killing all who even glimpsed those apocalyptic spells, or heard that world-ending thunder. The Yawning Depths left behind by passing Lightning pulled dying worlds inside, where forces beyond imagining ripped apart everything into their constituent Elements, which then separated into more Primal Lightning, to strike off into more parts of the Old Cosmology.

“In the dying of that universe, Veird was struck three times; two glancing blows, and one direct. By the time we were directly struck, countless trillions had already perished in the rest of the universe, and the manaminer of Veird had been further empowered by gods who fell here, or ran here, to get away. It was during those last days, with the universe truly dying, that we took the weaker divinities and the trillions of souls screaming in the Mana Ocean, looking for a home… That we took those who could not defend themselves and we turned them into power, laying the Foundational Bans and creating the Proto-Script.

“It was just in time, too. For the Yawning Depths were all around, and closing in.

“Imagine the stars blinking out, and the void approaching. It wasn’t Darkness closing in, either. Some people make that mistake; some people tell this story that way to make Melemizargo look like the bad guy. But Melemizargo was on Veird at that point in time, and already going a little crazy at watching himself die, one piece at a time.

“It wasn’t long till communication with the rest of the universe had gone silent. It only took days. We were the last parts of the Old Cosmology left alive. And then, as we watched the last rivers of the Mana Ocean fall into the Yawning Depths, we, too, fell in.

“When we got to the other side, we witnessed a new universe more hostile to life than anyone could have ever imagined. People died as air flowed away from the world. Light from the new sun, made of the sunlights we had managed to gather, killed with a glance. For a short while, it was the Killing Sun. Veird used to be a flat-ish world. In this New Cosmology, Veird folded in on itself, killing countless billions. And then, the stone under our feet became like evaporating water. I watched thousands of students of the undead arts, who had yet to take the final step into their second life…” Quilatalap stopped. After a moment, he began again, “In this chaotic time…

“In this pandemonium, The Great Translation began as all great workings begin: With more sacrifice.

“The god of knowledge was comatose from the inundation of new knowledge, as the makeup of this new universe flowed through her divine being. We would have asked her to share, to help, to guide and inform, but she could not, and thus, we took her knowledge by force. We sacrificed her upon the altar of preservation. It was her death that allowed us to make the planets out there, and for gravity to work as it does now. Her sacrifice allowed the gods to turn the Killing Sun into a living sun, and to put people into bodies that wouldn’t die from exposure. We turned Veird into a sphere. We knew nothing of what we were doing; not truly. But it worked. That’s what happens when you sacrifice one of the most powerful gods that has ever existed, and all the knowledge of two universes.

“There were costs to sacrificing her, though.

“There hasn’t been a new god of knowledge born since then, even though the position has been open for 1437 years. There should have been a new god of knowledge. But… It hasn’t happened, and no one knows why, exactly.

“I still remember… I still remember her staring, vacant purple eyes, looking up and out upon the new universe, as she was sprawled out atop the volcanic altar. I remember the knife we used…” Quilatalap shivered. He said, “It was a sight I will never forget. I will also never forget the aftermath. How people could breathe, and how air was bound to Veird, and how Veird flexed to twice its size, as divine hands gathered the dissipating corpses of gods and remnant worlds strewn out around us, like ten thousand watery moons. That elemental Stone became solid stone, as more and more was changed in order for us to live.

“In a short time, but not short enough for many, the Great Translation was finished. The proto-Script became the First Script, though no one would call it that for a long time.” With a heavy sigh, Quilatalap finished tossing the grilled potatoes with the cooked onions and other veggies, and moved them off to the side. He slapped the meat on the grill, and it sizzled. He said, “The story got away from me, there. Naming you as a Fire of the Age… It’s got me reminiscing.”

Fallopolis frowned a little, as she said, “I forgot how little you believe in the Clergy. If Priestess heard you give the Second Telling like that I think she’d actually hurt someone.”

Quilatalap smirked, as he slapped the steaks on the grill, saying, “I’m not a part of your Clergy, Fallopolis. We do not believe the same things.”

A silence of searing meat filled the room.

Erick broke the silence with a bit of callousness, by saying, “I expected a lot more sacrifice from that first Telling. One guy’s parts turned into a universe? That was pretty tame.” He asked, “Have you all considered that Melemizargo caused the Sundering? Your story already has the Darkness killing off no less than two universes. A third wouldn’t be a stretch.”

Fallopolis shook her head, saying, “Melemizargo did not cause the Sundering. No one knows what caused it.”

Erick knew this was probably going to cause a problem, but he asked anyway, “How much do you two even trust your own religion? You brought up Forgotten Campaigns earlier, Fallopolis. Are you all being duped into your beliefs? Wizards can do anything, right? And Melemizargo is a Wizard.”

“You’ve got it backwards, Erick. Melemizargo is not the bad guy, here.” Fallopolis smirked, like Erick was speaking nonsense. “Melemizargo doesn’t alter memories, or thoughts. Others will do that, and you’ll never know it was done to you. If you joined the Clergy, you’d become immune to harmful Mind Magic, too. That was one of the deciding factors for me joining the Shades.” She casually added, “And when I found out what I know now, I decided to go kill those who had taken from me. It’s a lot easier to let loose when you’re a Shade and they’re all fettered by the Script.”

Erick wanted to frown at her, but he couldn’t. What if she was speaking the truth?

Quilatalap said, “There are hundreds of versions of the Telling, Erick. Some might be more true than others.”

“Oh yeah.” Fallopolis said, “I always liked the one where Xoat was a time traveler, coming from our own distant future to start our universe.” She looked to Erick again, her eyes bright white. “But if you believed the Telling today: You’re partial to Phagar, right? Got any plans to sacrifice yourself to start a universe anytime soon?”

Erick felt his face drain of all blood.

Fallopolis just laughed.

Quilatalap chided the Shade, saying, “Don’t tease him, Fallopolis.”

“I’m just having fun!” She looked to Quilatalap, “You should have more fun, old man.”

Erick felt his blood return. He asked, “So that’s… Not possible? I’m not fated to enter your universe and kickstart it all with my dead body?”

Quilatalap said, “Time Magic can’t get back to before the Sundering. We’ve tried. We’ve tried a lot. Gods, Champions of Phagar, a Shade every now and then. Melemizargo himself, and every other week, probably. Before the Sundering, it was possible with Time Magic to go a hundred thousand years into the past, and the future. It wasn’t widespread, and I’m making it sound a lot easier than it was, but I flew in a few circles with Time Mages that routinely traveled all around the universe. Some Wizards really got into that line of work, but all of them found it to be mostly useless to travel those sorts of distances, because causality demanded… Well. That’s a big discussion I don’t feel like having.

“Suffice it to say, that you can still get to the Sundering from here, but no further. You can’t visit the Old Cosmology. And even if you were to visit the Sundering yourself, you can’t do anything, really, except to watch it all happen, all over again.

“And the odd thing is, is that before the Sundering? Back in the Old Cosmology, there were Wizards going back and forth beyond the time of the Sundering. There was no warning when the first arc of Primal Lightning flashed across the universe, and destroyed a thousand worlds. With all the Time Mages I knew, there should have been at least some warning, but there was none.

“When that happened, every single Wizard that attempted to travel to the future to find out if we lived past the Sundering…” Quilatalap sighed. “They never returned. Those that traveled to the past vanished, too. There was no getting away from the Sundering, and no one was able to find out how it started.”

Erick said, “Sounds like an over-deity decided to end your cosmology.”

“That’s one theory among many. But it’s just a theory with no basis in known reality.” Quilatalap pulled the steaks off of the grill, asking Erick and Fallopolis, “Hungry?”

Erick was glad for the shift in topic. Too many heavy things had come at him, all at once, and the food smelled good. But… Erick asked, “It’s not from a human-cow, is it? Or any of the other people Hollowsaur transformed into cows? Hollowsaur slaughtered one in front of me and taunted that it would be at the Feast.”

Quilatalap almost spoke, but then he looked down to the meat. He held a hand above the steaks, and he must have cast a spell, but Erick didn’t see any magelight; the archlich’s magic was either invisible, or very, very well made. He said, “It’s showing up as ‘cow’ to me.” He looked to the cold box. “Queen fills that storage box for me when I come by, and I know not many would be willing to risk feeding me tormented meat. Hollowsaur is not one of those people.” He looked to Erick, adding, “He’ll definitely try to do that to you, though.”

“And that’s a good enough time as any.” Fallopolis got up from the couch, saying, “It doesn’t look like any immediate murder attempts are going to happen—”

Erick sighed. Obviously, someone trying to kill him was a possibility, but for Fallopolis to be so blatant about it…

Fallopolis continued, “So I should go see what nefarious plots are unfolding outside these walls.” She turned to Quilatalap. “Thanks for the offer, but no thank you.”

“Bye,” Erick said, to be friendly.

Fallopolis turned to him, and smiled, “Bye!” She waved, took a shadowed step, and was gone.

Quilatalap looked to Erick. “Care for some? You should throw a [Cleanse] at it, first, just so you know it’s safe.”

Erick had decided to be personable well before now, and so, in continuing that way of thinking and acting, he had an Ophiel throw a [Cleanse] into the room. No thick air. He said, “I’d love some. Thanks for the offer.”

“Queen might open up the party soon enough, so maybe don’t have too much. I’m only having a light snack.”

Erick tried to be casual and fun, as he looked to the three steaks, and piles of veggies, and said, “That’s a light snack?”

Quilatalap patted his tight belly, smiling as he said, “It is to me.”

Erick sat down at the kitchen table to eat a ‘light snack’ with the archlich of Ar’Kendrithyst. It was a bit surreal. But it was nice. At Erick’s first slice into the steak, he knew it would be a good one. And it was. The guy was a good cook.

Hopefully he wasn’t eating people-cow.

Partway through, Erick looked around, and wondered where his butler had gone. He asked, “You didn’t happen to see where Violet went, did you?”

“She’s guarding the perimeter, along with Tobari and Dolorent.”

Erick cocked his head.

Quilatalap helpfully supplied, “The guy that tried to push you and the girl who I stopped from skewering you with a [Bloodspike].”

“… A [Bloodspike]?”

“She pulled her spell when I turned Tobari into dust and then recreated his body.”

“Oh?” Erick said, rolling with the revelation of his own attempted murder. There would be a lot of that, he was sure. After an odd second, he decided that a simple [Bloodspike] probably wouldn’t have done anything. He didn’t know what a [Bloodspike] was, but if it was anything like a [Mindspike], then it couldn’t be too bad. He asked, “What did they want, anyway?”

“I removed them from my tutelage years ago, when I found them using the knowledge I granted them on adventurers in Ar’Kendrithyst. I cursed them with corpse bodies for their transgressions. Oh. Thirty years ago. Not just a few years. Time flies, you know? Anyway. Every year since then they’ve invaded Shadow’s Feast, trying to gain an audience with me.” He said, “I put them on guard duty for you, so tell me how they do at the end of all this, if you want?”

That sounded fine, maybe. Erick asked, “A [Bloodspike] wouldn’t have actually done anything, would it?”

“Want to test it?” Quilatalap said, “It won’t hurt much.”

“… Sure.” Erick wrapped himself in his sunform, but kept it close. “Okay.”

A spike of red light flashed from Quilatalap’s shoulder, impacting the shoulder of Erick’s sunform. White flecks of his [Personal Ward] broke away as the spike turned to red light, and then vanished completely. The [Bloodspike] had gotten through his sunform and done actual damage to his form. If he had been in his mortal form, and that had been aimed at his head…

He had to know. Erick had a rod of [Treat Wounds] in his room. He dropped the sunform and asked, “Shoot me again, same spot.”

Quilatalap did so, without hesitation.

The [Bloodspike] struck, and broke against Erick’s [Personal Ward]. It didn’t get through that layer of defense. [Ward] and Health were both the final layers of defense a person had, and Blood Magic couldn’t get past those? Good to know.

“So [Ward] and Health still work against Blood Magic?”

“Correct.” Quilatalap said, “Weaker Blood Magic would even be stopped by metal shields and such, but only novice Blood Mages cast those versions. My [Bloodspike], and Dolorent’s, too, are Ethereal, meaning that they will fly through metal shields and other such mundane defenses.”

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Erick popped out the box for his [Blood Bolt], asking, “Is this Ethereal?”

Quilatalap said, “Nope.” He popped out a blue box, saying, “This is Ethereal.”

Erick chuckled. “You got a pretty good Variable on there! That’s almost the same one I read about in Esoteric Elements.”

Quilatalap grinned, saying, “It’s okay.”

– – – –

“So was Xoat a planar guy? You had those in the Old Cosmology?”

“It’s one of the rarer interpretations, but yes, we did have planars back then, too.”

“How did planar people fall to your universe?”

“I’m sure someone figured out how it worked, exactly, but the most widely believed idea was that A Wizard Did It, since those guys operated outside of normal magical practices.”

Erick asked, “What is a Wizard, anyway?”