115, 2/2

Meditation didn’t actually increase ones Mana Regen; it just opened one up to the mana—

No no. Go away, stray thought.

Stray cats. Erick wanted a cat. That was the reason he started making his first [Familiar] in that direction, but cats were all murder machines, and this was even more true on Veird than on Earth—

Stop that, mind. Focus on nothing.

Nothing. The void. The Void? One of Sirocco Zago’s cat [Familiar]s was named Void.

No. Stop that.

Now what were Erick’s ‘shadow magics’ doing when he tried to cast [Shadow Bolt]? Was he fucking up that understanding with Void? Or was that the nascent outcome of his own Wizardly Path manifesting—

Nope. You can flow away on the breeze, too—

OH! There’s a breeze!

Ah. Now it’s gone.

Hmm. Becoming one with the wind. Now there’s a thought. Might as well go for it.

Erick breathed in, and in the dark division of Meditation, where body and mind were no longer strictly connected, he recognized his breath. He saw his lungs move under an illuminated breeze. And then it was gone. But yet…

He felt every whorl, every flutter, every brush of mana. That mana came into him, and then left through his skin.

His skin! He could see his skin—

Oh. No. Gone again.

Erick breathed out, and he pushed those whorls away.

A spark caught in his chest. A drop of light in the darkness all around. Erick saw his heart beat and felt a sense of hope, but then the light died, and darkness returned.

Too much thinking. That was his current problem. Thoughts were not necessary in this initial process. The only thing that mattered was the experience; being in the moment, and letting the moment shine.

A spark took hold. Erick breathed deep. The spark turned into a light, dim and small; an ember in the endless sea of darkness all around. But it was him. It was a part of him, anyway.

Erick knew this, somehow. He saw with this spark. Erick relaxed into the spark.

And the spark grew.

A sudden flash, concentrated stadium lights turning on! Light encompassed his entire body, and nothing else.

He saw himself from the inside out. Blood vessels like roots and branches all throughout. Heart pumping. Bones resting. Brain pulsing with electricity. He watched as breath flowed into his lungs, to brighten the whole. He watched mana flow from his skin, out into the world, sending out streamers of illumination into his surroundings, like glowing inkstains that caught on nothing and everything all at once.

And that’s what mana was. Nothing and everything, all at once. There was no ground. There was no sky. There was no person or object; not to mana. All was the same. It only looked different to fleshy people, but to mana, it was all just a part of the Greater Whole.

Erick opened his eyes without opening his eyes. He breathed in a storm without breathing in a storm. He exhaled an ocean of illumination, without doing any such thing. He became a part of the whole, there, on his bed, in the middle of Quilatalap’s house. He was a small part, compartmentalized to his few rooms of dense air and a little ways beyond, but it was still a lot, and his vision was still growing, as he understood more and more, and became part of the Greater Whole.

He saw himself smile, but he was separate from his body, by just a little bit. Enough to matter. Enough to understand. Whatever [Mana Sight] was, from Jane’s shadow spider, it had nothing on this. This was like viewing the world through his sunform, but even that paled in comparison to this real mana sense.

For [Greater Lightwalk] just couldn’t capture the sense of wind whirling at the littlest movement, or the warmth of the body, or the solidity of the ground below the house, or the moisture on the air above.

Erick looked to himself, and saw a brightness upon his body that had nothing to do with any physical medium. It might have been his soul. Or maybe it was something else. Whatever that particular glow was, it demanded more experimental data before he started drawing conclusions upon what he was seeing.

With a sense of dissonance, but with a willpower strong enough to ride it out, Erick used his fleshy voice to call out to Violet, his butler for while he was here at the Palace District. In moments, the incani woman appeared at his doorway, and spoke to him asking what he wanted, while at the same time, she looked him over, and kept down the panic happening in the back of her mind. Erick heard her words, certainly, but those words were again similar to the difference between seeing the world through his sunform, versus this new mana sense. Words paled in comparison to actually seeing someone, inside and out, while they were talking.

And he saw her, alright. Not too deep, though, for her Health and her soul, perhaps, kept him out of most of her. But there was more to it than that. Her body glowed with a layered density of spellwork. Something was active in her muscles and all of her sensing body parts, such as her eyes and her skin. But there was also another layer of defenses just atop her skin. That last one was a similar glow to Erick’s own [Personal Ward]; he matched that spell up to his rather easily, and if he were to guess, her body spell was probably [Hunter’s Instincts], or something similar. She also had pools of shadow mana active all over her self. [Shadowalk]; had to be.

But there was something else to her, that Erick noticed that he had, too: A density, just atop her skin. Erick held a similar density atop his own skin. Violet’s density was slightly stretched into the shadowy mana at her feet, and wasn’t that interesting!

Erick activated his own lightform, and sure enough, he saw what had to be his ‘soul’ shift toward his new aura, exactly in the way that Violet’s own aura shifted into her shadowy magics. Elemental Forms were shortcuts to aura-work, which itself seemed a shortcut to soul manipulation. So you cast spells with your soul, then?

Ah. No. That was too reductive.

The soul was the self.

The self manipulated the aura to manipulate the mana to cast the spells.

Aura control or Elemental Form control was what made the spells.

The difference was thus: When baking a cake without magic, you did not use your mind to move ingredients into bowls and then into pans and then into the oven. You used your mind to move your body to do all of that lifting and sorting. Souls on their own couldn’t do jack shit. Souls inside bodies could do everything.

Conversely, being reduced to a soul without a body meant that you couldn’t do anything.

Which… Of course that was true. Duh.

Violet said something else, and Erick responded with words that said he was fine. He was fine. But Violet did not seem to believe this. She said something about the time in order to get him to drop his mana sense. Erick still had loads of time, and he told her so, but there was no need to make her worry, after all, it was her current job to worry over him, and it could be possibly that Queen would not be pleased if Erick was hurt on Violet’s watch. Or maybe it was more that Queen wouldn’t be pleased if it came back on her that Erick had been hurt while under her ‘protection’.

Erick told Violet that he would be done soon; he just wanted to mess around with time a bit.

Violet was understandably worried, but she stepped away anyway.

Now, how to do this? Erick thought for a moment, then took the plunge in the most obvious way: tracing the mana to where it had been in its previous moments.

The world split, as though Erick had crossed his eyes. One set of perception remained with him. The other moved into the past, to where the mana had been in the previous moments. Perception split again, into a broken kaleidoscope of happenstance and never-happened. Violet spoke. But yet, Violet yelled. And yet, Quilatalap showed up instead. Or no. Fallopolis showed up, and congratulated Erick on his accomplishment. Or, not that either.

Erick faced himself, standing in front of himself. The second Erick was a spot of calm certainty in the center of a broken continuum of possibility; an anchor, a solidity—

Oh.

“Oh,” Erick’s voice reverberated the world, and yet only himself. “Hello, Phagar. You’re here, then?”

Phagar’s voice calmed the world, or maybe just Erick, “I’m always here.”

“That would be appropriate for the End to always be nearby, and yet just out of sight.” He asked, “Are my eyes really that white these days?”

Phagar gave a tiny, knowing grin, as his white, white eyes seemed to glow, ever so faintly. “You still have the pupils, but yes, they are.” He said, “I was expecting you to come calling a lot sooner than this.”

“I was unaware that I could contact you like this!” Erick said, in a lighthearted manner.

Phagar sat down at a chair that was not there, until it was. The world stabilized from a shifting kaleidoscope into a solid stained-glass structure. Time stopped, and was yet allowed to happen uninterrupted. The God of the End and Time, said, “I meant that I was expecting a call way before you gained a mana sense. You’ve had a lot of questions bubbling on the stove.”

“Well. Yes.” Erick said, “Truthfully, I didn’t even know what I was going to say the next time we met. Where would I even start? Questions about this plan for sundering souls and accepting Melemizargo’s plans for new worlds? Or perhaps I would ask you about Wizardry? Or Time Magic? Or about Melemizargo trying to claim me as a Shade, or something, but then you went and already had a claim over me? The true cycle of life and death of Veird? The nature of the Infinitesimal Ban as a measure against Wizards? Or how about the Atomic Ban; is that real? Have I been conflating it with the Infinitesimal Ban, and that was just allowed to happen? And— Oh yeah!” Erick had trouble keeping his voice even, as he said, “And what about the Forgotten Campaigns and all that genocide?!”

Phagar held up a hand and rattled off, “Here and now is a good place to start. That plan is decades long before we even start to believe Melemizargo. Ask someone who is not a Shade and who doesn’t kill Wizards on sight; for example, the Headmaster would be a poor choice to ask about Wizardry. Ask me about Time Magic, first, and then we can go from there. That was for your own protection. People are born, creating a new soul in the process of birth, then they live, they die, and the souls move on to wherever they wish, or wherever they do. The Infinitesimal Ban was against Wizards, yes, but there was overlap with Particle Spells; you broke through that slight barrier, though, and probably only because you are a Wizard. The Atomic Ban remains; we put it on after the Atomic Cult came along, but they were never known by that name, and their name has been erased from history. You have been conflating the terms.” With a slightly darker voice, Phagar said, “And you’ll never know what we have done to ensure the survival of this world.”

“… Well. Okay.” Erick thought through Phagar’s various answers, then said, “That was… More succinct than I thought it would be.”

Phagar waved a dismissive hand, saying, “Gods help their followers. I’m not too sure if the ones that originally made you fell out of reality, or whatever happened there, but I and the rest of my kind exist to help those who ask.”

There was a lot to unpack in that tiny statement, and Erick might eventually pursue that line of questioning with other parties, but here and now… “But it’s not that simple.” Erick said, “If it was, then you wouldn’t appear before me. Teressa never mentioned meeting you in this space.”

“Well… We’ve already gone over all the big ideas in your initial flurry of questions. That was my main reason for showing myself.” Phagar said, “But I must correct you on this idea that I have appeared before you. You have it backwards, Erick. You’re the one that journeyed into Time. You stepped into my home.”

“Ah…” Erick frowned. “Is this a problem?”

Phagar laughed a kind laugh. “Not at all. Most accomplished mages and otherwise get to this point sooner or later. Looking costs nothing and changes nothing. It’s not true Time Magic, so I usually let viewers travel however they wish without letting myself be known. But you’re almost my Champion, so it would have been rather rude to not make an appearance when you came along into my space.” Phagar smiled, saying, “Good luck with the [Witness], or whatever other magical sight you desire. You seem skilled enough with that new Perception to go for any of them. [Soul Sight]. [Mana Sight]. [Future Sight].”

Erick said, “Oh. Oh! Oh? Uh.” He inwardly frowned, as he asked, “Are these new Stats getting nerfed?”

“Nerfs? Not exactly. But if Melemizargo becomes involved in magic again, then everything is going to change, Erick.”

“How so?”

“You’ve poked great big holes in the Script with both Particle Magic and these Stat enchantments. You’ve turned small, temporary improvements into necessary, permanent improvements that the powerful will use to subjugate the powerless. Some would call you a prodigy; an example of what anyone should be able to achieve if they begin with enough resources and have enough drive and smarts and good chances. Others would call you the coming ‘normal’.” Phagar said, “That second one scares people.”

Erick imagined people like Bulgan gaining all of these new Stats. He said, “No one should have this level of power. Aren’t you going to remove them when this latest lie of Melemizargo’s is over?”

Phagar sat for a moment, then said, “When we made the Script, we culled most of the higher levels of power that were possible in the Old Cosmology, while giving some of that power to everyone. From our perspective at the time, it was the equivalent of handing everyone a refrigerator and a house and the power to make their small parts of the world a bit better.” He said, “And we succeeded. From your perspective of 8 billion people on a world a quarter of the size of Veird, it might appear that we have failed. It might appear that we could have a much, much larger population, and that we have failed to conquer the natural world as your people once did. But the half a billion people currently living on Veird is still crowded by the metrics of all of our shared, Old Cosmology History.

“Power is not the problem, Erick. Power has never been the problem. Power in the right hands, is.” Phagar said, “By all metrics, you’ve done well with the power you have created for yourself.”

“… It’s not right.”

“Of course it’s not right. But a just universe is impossible to create, for some will always rise, and some will always fall. So accept that Class Ability for the Quest Board and let us help you make it that much better, or at least point you in the right direction so that you can help where we cannot.” Phagar said, “That is another reason that the gods are here; to help mortals make the world a better place.”

Erick had no response to that. He had the responsibility to use his power correctly, didn’t he? By that same token, he didn’t have any right to complain about abuses of power if he wasn’t willing to do his fair part. He wasn’t some guy just trying to make his own way in the world. He hadn’t been that guy for a long time. He already knew all of that, instinctively, but having it pointed out was something new to consider.

Phagar said, “I hope you’re prepared to keep this level of power, Erick. You’re probably going to get grandfathered-in to whatever comes next, just like all the people who already have Charisma.”

And that was a whole new problem to land on his plate. Erick said, “That’s disconcerting. You can’t… you can’t fix that?”

“These new Stats were created by Melemizargo’s power. Their effects are deeper than the Script is capable of fully fixing. Unless you’re willing to deal with the Dark Dragon to have him undo what has been done, then you should accept that you’ve fundamentally shifted who you are.” Phagar said, “All those orcols who came in to Ar’Kendrithyst, and had themselves reverted, are doing well. But all of the people who gained a Stat and then had it removed at a Registrar… They complain of ‘lost limbs’ and phantom pains, for removing a part of the soul always has repercussions.”

And that brought Erick to his next question. He asked, “Am I even human, anymore?”

“Yes, because that is one of the races recognized by the Script, and that’s how we made it work. But you’re not truly human. Not really.” Phagar said, “Question marks upon the Status happens more often than you would suspect. Blood Magic is the most common cause. The outcomes of this transitional state varies from monsterfication, to automagic stabilization back to the original race, to the creation of a new species.” Phagar waited, as though for Erick to ask a question.

Erick rapidly obliged, “What’s happening to me?”

“A change. A choice. A destiny, I suppose, if you want to call it that. But Time is not a straight line. It curves and changes and transforms based on the smallest of details, and the interactions of impossibly large events occurring well out of sight. I travel those paths, all the time. I know what you could become. But that doesn’t mean I know everything that is possible. Here: let me show you a little of what I have seen:”

For a moment, Erick saw Phagar, but he also saw the world shift around the god, and his mana sight go wide. A dozen paths into the past and future collided into sweeping vistas of destiny and promise. A million choices made by people well out of Erick’s circle led to a billion outcomes that affected everyone.

A future filled with green planets, and Earth hanging in the far distance, while spaceships traveled the stars. A future of desolation and deserts, where cities crumbled and oceans dried. A nebula of tree roots and branches. A dozen grandchildren and even more great grandchildren, and dying in a hospital bed far, far away. Collapsing on a battlefield with one hand little more than shards of bone, while the other dug into the chest of a downed man, bursting light out of the man’s ribcage, killing them both. Of making love to the most wonderful woman he had ever met, on a towel, on a private beach, under the night sky while waves lapped in the distance.

Of holding on tight to a walnut the size of a head, and then releasing that first Seed of the Season into the air, to watch it drift away on the waters of the manasphere, to touch the roof of the world, and pluck off a piece of the whole, to carry What Had Come Before as it journeyed to Elsewhere to bring forth What Will Be. Erick turned, and saw Yggdrasil behind him. The World Tree had grown into a mountain of roots and trunk, topped with another mountain of branches and leaves. Its shade provided homes for hundreds of thousands of lives, while ten thousand seeds hung heavy on its branches. All at once, those seeds released, then carried on the wind and mana, up to the roof of the world, where they too, pushed through the Script, plucking off tiny balloons of power, carrying that power with them as each seed conjured a [Gate], and then floated through.

Phagar’s voice drew Erick back to the Near Past, as he said, “Nothing is set in antirhine. Everything could change at a moment’s decision. Your future is up to you to decide, and then make whole.”

Erick said, “That last one. With Yggdrasil…”

Phagar said, “One of the larger possibilities. It was a faint, barely-there idea, when you first dropped to Veird. It remained as such until four hours ago, when it became something much, much more solid.” He added, “Still might not happen like that. There are other versions that I left out of the viewing. Viewings where Yggdrasil is made of blood, and tumors released to the air. Fragments where Yggdrasil turned to shadows, and drew Darkness across this universe.”

“… Oh.” Erick stared out at nothing and everything, all at once.

Phagar stood up from his chair saying, “Good luck with Shadow’s Feast, Erick.”

Erick felt something solidify in his heart and mind. He said, “Thanks for the visit.”

Phagar smiled again as he said, “You’re the one that visited me.”

“Right. You said that… Already…”

The kaleidoscope of the past churned into moving action and never-happeneds, as Phagar vanished into the mana like the turning of a perspective. And then he was gone. Time resumed.

Erick decided to leave more [Witness]ing to another day. A pulse of intent, a flowing back to himself, a concentrated restriction of vision, and Erick was back in his own body. He gasped. He breathed. He saw out of his own eyes, heard the world with his own ears, and felt the bed under his butt with his own fingers, clutching at the sheets. They were soft, good sheets.

Violet spoke from past the door, where the dense air prevented her from entering, “Are you well, sir?”

Erick blinked a few times; adjusting. He said, “I’m fine. Thanks for asking.” He hopped off the bed, and glanced to Violet’s feet, where he knew unseen shadows roiled inside her shoes, and under her soles. He still didn’t get Shadow. Maybe he should have asked Phagar about that? Eh. The god said to call him up any time he wanted. But… Erick wanted to figure this part out on his own. He asked Violet, “What does Shadow mean to you?”

Violet briefly flinched, as though physically struck. Her voice was perfectly professional, as she said, “I am unsure what you mean.”

“Don’t worry about it.” He barreled on, trying to compartmentalize all that he had seen, saying, “We got time for breakfast before the presentations, yeah?”

“We do, sir.” Violet stood tall, as she asked, “Do you have any requests? I am here to serve.”

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“Scrambled eggs, pancakes, some meat, and some of that coffee I brought with me. Actually!” Erick walked toward the door. Violet moved aside, as Erick said, “I don’t have much of that coffee. I need to copy it, first.” He decided, “And that’s what I’m going to bring if they ask for a presentation.”

Breakfast was good.

Violet was a great cook. Erick had rarely ever had eggs as good as the ones she made, and while the pancakes were pancakes, the jams and jellies and honey that Violet paired them with turned those pancakes up to 11. The sausage was pretty great, too. Kinda spicy.

Erick ate while he thought of Laplace’s Demon, determinism, Free Will, and what he had just witnessed with his near-[Witness]. Now that some time had passed, he could honestly say that all of that was interesting stuff! It was beyond nice to know that Free Will was a real and true thing. Maybe Free Will was a high dimension, soul-aspect, kinda thing? Or maybe a time-thing?

It was also interesting to think of time and decisions.

The ‘present’ that people thought of as the ‘now’, was actually a few hundred milliseconds. People naturally existed over a small slice of temporal displacement.

Mana Sense provided the ability to see further into the past than was normal, and even into the future, according to Phagar. But it also allowed a person to see the mana, or the soul. Maybe, mana sense was just a step off of causality, and the ability to see the river of time? Mana was ‘liquid’ possibility, after all, and possibilities were endless in the mana.

Was mana…

Was mana, the drawing down of a higher dimension, into this dimension?

Was the Sundering… The ‘sundering’ of a higher dimension? Was the Old Cosmology actually Vacuum Decay’d, like he had feared? Or perhaps, a narrowing of dimensions, from, like, what, five? Down to three? Four, for gods? Phagar was clearly a fourth dimensional being. Maybe all gods were.

Eh! Those thoughts were too deep for now. Best shove them aside and focus on current events. With a glance and a listen through the Ophiel around the house, Erick heard and saw people of all sorts moving around the Palace District in groups of three or four, while rainbow streamers were billowing from the tops of certain towers and buildings, here and there, all around the tiered castle city. Those people certainly seemed like students, but they were quieter than any students Erick had ever seen before. Mostly, they kept their eyes forward, and their mouths shut, as they walked down white lines in the road that wound around the whole district, from one rainbow-streamer building to the next.

Erick exited Quilatalap’s house, saying, “You know, I wasn’t expecting a Science Fair when everyone spoke of ‘presentations’.”

Violet closed the door behind them. “I am unsure what you mean, sir.”

“A magic fair? Where people show off the stuff they’ve accomplished that year?” He looked to Violet, saying, “Those exist, don’t they?”