126, 2/2

After the day was done, and too many people had been killed, Koropo broke open five kegs of celebratory brandy for every single soldier and clerk on staff. Erick had a small glass himself, and stood to the side as Koropo gave a great speech. They had killed the 25 most wanted criminals of Treehome and a good lot more besides that, and though the whooping cheers and hurrahs were infectious, Erick could barely believe the extreme violence and power and death that he had bore witness to for the last 8 hours. He, and his Ophiel, had scanned all of Treehome and much of the Forest, and the mountains, to find their targets, and they had been wildly successful. Erick got to see every single takedown, and he even participated in a few, when the target broke encirclement and almost got away. And yet, still, with all their preparation and foresight, soldiers died. There were civilian casualties. Buildings exploded, and people got hurt.

Several of his 170,000 mana Ophiel were even banished by mages of considerable power, or luck, as was the case in two instances when the target had [Banish Familiar]. It was an acceptable loss, for in those few seconds, when those mages were dealing with Ophiel instead of with the soldiers all around them, Special Forces took them down.

Erick knew he had saved more than a few soldiers from death today, and a lot of them looked to Erick with appreciation in their eyes. More than a few of them spoke with him, thanking him afterward, their voices filled with reverence.

Peron came into the room ten minutes after the first round of celebratory drinks had been drunk. The room went quiet as he held up his hand.

“Good work, everyone!” Peron said, “You’re all getting bonuses!”

A round of cheers went up. Peron had no more words for everyone else, though, so people returned to their drinks, and their talking as Peron walked over to Erick.

“Erick.” Peron said.

Some people looked their way.

“Hello, Peron?” Erick asked.

With a polite yet firm stance, Peron said, “Erick. I have heard that your Ophiel was directly engaging with some of the people you all hunted today.”

Koropo stepped in, saying, “Aye. And it was good that he did. Made me change my mind on [Familiar]s. We should consider looking for some Summoners to add to our ranks, if we can find some with quality summons like Ophiel.”

Ophiel trilled on Erick’s shoulder; a quiet sound, mostly.

Without giving Erick a second to think, Peron continued, “I do this as a part of my job, you understand.” He stated, “You are here on guest rites. You are not a member of our community, and though we value your assistance in the spells we have asked you to cast and the actions we have asked you to take, please do not overstep your bounds. We have much more work ahead of us all, and I will not have vigilantism in Treehome. Please hold your Ophiel back from participating in any fights, from here on out. This much vigilantism sets a bad precedent, and people are complaining to me. I would prefer not to receive complaints about you, Erick.”

This was not a fight Erick was willing to fight. So he said, “Of course, Peron.”

Peron nodded, then moved on.

Erick had another drink, and then moved on, too; back to his room at Hotel O’kabil.

– – – –

Erick sat by the dinner table, the full enormity of the day’s events coming down on him all at once, as Jane set out the room service dinner. Kiri just looked to him from across the table, obviously wondering if he was okay. He was not okay. Not really. He didn’t know how to be okay right now. This was different than that time he had hunted for the Hunters that Caradogh set upon Spur. Much different. Back then, he had gone into all of that in some rage-fueled fugue state, where he barely understood that the people he helped Spur to kill were still people. Erick would have liked to have blamed all of that barely-remembered time on [Hunter’s Instincts], but that was a cop out. He had chosen to help hunt and kill those people. Those Hunters.

Just as he had helped to hunt and kill the people he had hunted and killed today. And this time, he didn’t have the excuse of running [Hunter’s Instincts]. This time, and last time, too, all of this death was on his hands.

… But by that same token, with the deaths of the Hunters, serial killers, and terrorists today, Erick had saved an untold number of people in the future. Koropo had said as much, several times, and changed from a stoic man, solidly following the lead laid down for him by his superior, Peron, into a man with a smile on his face at the end of the day. And Koropo wasn’t the only one. At the end, many people in that office walked with a skip in their step and a relaxation in their shoulders that they did not have at the beginning. There was some sadness for the soldiers who had died in the line of duty, but Koropo had never lied about the people that Erick needed to hunt, either. Those killings were justified, in almost every common usage of the word ‘justified’, but—

Jane uncovered a plate of spicy fried chicken, right in front of Erick.

The smell instantly assaulted his nose. He turned away and sneezed, and sneezed—

Jane demanded, “Tell me what is wrong, dad. You’ve barely said a word since you walked in the door.”

Erick sneezed once more.

“Bless you,” Jane said. “Now talk.”

And so, Erick talked. “The Special Forces… They were so prepared. It was practically a storm of activity, with every single Guardhouse of every District called in to execute the orders of the Special Forces… Fast as they could be. We were clearing a mission every five minutes there, in the thick of it all.” Erick sighed, then said, “I helped kill forty four people today, Jane, and every single one of them deserved it.” He said, “I’m coming to terms with that, and with the fact that tomorrow, there will be more.”

Poi, also sitting down at the table, said nothing, but he had been there the whole time. Erick almost wished that the man would have said ‘no’ to some of the deaths. He almost wished that he was being tricked into hunting innocent people. But then that would have been a lie. Everything that Erick saw in those case files, and everything that he saw on the ground, when the teams confronted the people Erick had found, proved that those targets needed to die. One guy was found in the middle of a room full of severed heads, the trophies of his victims, way out in the Forest where he never would have been found otherwise.

Jane said, “If they deserved it, then they deserved it.”

“They did… It’s not that simple, but at the same time, it is that simple, isn’t it?”

Jane said, “Sometimes there is no grey. Sometimes black and white do exist.”

“Yeah…” Erick said, “Eleven of them were serial killers, each more crazy and yet capable of hiding that crazy than the last.

“There were nine alchemically toxic orcols who were a part of this group called Downfall, which consisted of fifteen people, in total. They wanted to bring down the Arbors of Treehome. They almost succeeded in killing an Arbor twice in the past five years. Once was an attack on Ikabobbi and on the Special Forces headquarters last year, and the other was against the base of Steel-Branch. Both Arbors only survived due to massive assistance efforts on the part of every other Arbor. Those Downfall people only hadn’t been found for so long because those toxic orcols were literally immune to most scanning magic.

“And I helped take down their entire organization in a matter of hours.

“Thirteen of my kills were Hunters, which is a distinction from ‘serial killer’ that I don’t quite understand, but… That’s how they do it.

“And then there were six monsters that only looked like people. Acted like people, too.” Erick shivered. “Those were scary.”

No one said anything, but they did start digging into the food that Jane had set out.

After a moment, Erick added, “And twelve good— twelve good men and women died to make that happen, and this is what is labeled as a success.” Erick looked down at the food he had mechanically served himself, somehow, and then decided he wasn’t really hungry. He was thirsty. So he got up and went to the kitchen and poured himself a drink.

Jane watched her father. “Are you going back tomorrow?”

“… Yes.” Erick downed the first shot of Sunset Red Rum. Jane had found the bottles for sale when she had gone out into the city today. It was a good drink, and it reminded him of simpler times, of discussing magic with Jane while they sat in Windy Manor. Or, rather, those weren’t simple times? Were they? They were just in the past, facing a different set of trials, while Erick was here, in the present, and facing yet more trials. He poured himself another shot, and said, “I’m going back for more hunting tomorrow, because they need my help. They said as much, too, and not just verbally. It was their hopeful eyes and their relaxed shoulders and their… Their everything… They need [Cascade Imaging].” Erick verbalized a thought he had been kicking around for a little while, and said, “I think I have to give this spell to a god of justice, or something. Or at least let them use it, like I let Atunir use [Exalted Rain].” He asked, “Is there a good god of Justice out there? For some reason I don’t think I’ve ever heard of one.”

There was a short silence, as Jane looked toward Poi, Erick glanced over between Kiri and Teressa, and Kiri and Teressa shared similar unsure looks. Poi just frowned a little.

Kiri said, “Not really.”

“Sumtir is close,” Teressa offered.

Poi looked to them both, and said, “No. He’s the god of Righteous War.” He turned to Erick, saying, “There’s no god of Justice. Justice is too subjective. There are minor gods of justice, though. For humans, there’s the Crown of the Host, while the Incani have their Demon King. Both of those stations have a divine spark to them.”

Well, well, well. Wasn’t that a thought? Erick narrowed his eyes, and took another drink. The rum burned a little going down, but it was the good kind of burn that warmed him from the inside, chasing away the cold clawing at his mind.

He said, “I didn’t know that’s how it worked.”

“This is why there is no god of Justice?” Jane asked, “Is it the diametrically opposed views on justice that make it so no god of Justice can be born? Incani versus Human, or Angel versus Demon?”

Poi said, “No one knows, but that’s one of the current guesses. Both angels and demons do exist on the moons of Celes and Hell, after all.”

Kiri said, “There are lots of Gods that should exist and who have existed historically, before the Sundering, but don’t anymore. Back in Arcanaeum, they told us that Veird is just too small of a pond. That the domains of gods used to be hundreds or thousands of worlds, but that’s just not possible here on Veird. There just isn’t enough room for more gods to be born. There should be a god of Knowledge, too, but they don’t exist, either.”

“That’s not a bad thing, though.” Poi said, “There used to be dark gods back before the Sundering, but we don’t have any of those, either.”

“… Well now I’m depressed about a whole different topic.” Erick asked, “What happens with the gods if Yggdrasil actually does manage to open the Script on the other worlds of this solar system?” He let that question hang in the air for three moments, before rapidly declaring, “Whatever! Let’s eat.”

Dinner was delicious, but silence stretched over the room for a little, while everyone ate, and thought. It was rather quiet, as far as dinners usually went.

“Oh.” Erick said, “Wait.” He looked to Teressa, asking, “Weren’t we going to eat at your auntie’s again?”

Teressa shook her head, saying, “That fell through, but don’t worry about it.” She asked, “I heard you managed to clear some Quests today, though?”

Offhandedly, Erick said, “Enough for 13 points.”

Jane almost choked on her chicken strip, but Teressa slapped her on the back and a piece of chicken went flying across the room, barely missing Poi. Poi continued to eat as if nothing had happened.

But it was Kiri who demanded, “What! How?!”

“Criminal Quests,” Teressa said.

“There were Quests attached to a lot of those criminals,” Erick confirmed. “I didn’t get full points for a lot of them, but I did get partial points, which is something. Usually a quarter to a half of a point. That terrorist group, Downfall, was seven of those full points.” He added, “And I saw a lot of how Mage Hunters work. That’s a pretty amazing Class, you know? Niche, for sure, but really good at taking down other people.” He looked to Teressa, asking, “How good are the Mage Hunters in Spur?”

Teressa said, “They’re pretty good. About as good as anywhere else, really. We have more Sin Seekers than Mage Hunters, though. There’s a lot of overlap with those Classes, and Sin Seeker is usually better.”

Jane said, “I never considered law enforcement as a path toward extra points.”

“It’s usually not.” Teressa said, “We discourage that sort of stuff in Spur. But up here, where there’s 8 to 10 million people? They need those incentives to cut down on potential criminal activity.”

Erick briefly wondered who Silverite or Merit would petition to create a Kill Quest, even if they wanted to. Silverite was aligned with Koyabez, for sure, so… Erick said, “I doubt Koyabez would want to sponsor the type of Kill Quests that are necessary in the Guardhouse, anyway.”

Poi said, “Yup.”

Over dinner, Erick figured now was as good a time as any to distribute his new points. So he did so. 5 points went into Willpower. 5 points went into Focus. He’d save the other 14 for when he needed a new Basic Spell. A few of those points were already earmarked for [True Sight], eventually, when his soul wasn’t tattered and he was able to make new magic without fucking it up.

– – – –

“Downfall is over. In the space of a single afternoon, they were raided and ended by Warchief Koropo and his Special Forces.” A light voice said, “We can no longer count on them as customers.”

“The Flower Killer is gone, too,” said a deep voice. “I quite liked that little scamp.”

“That plant was a failure, anyway.” Light said, “Erick Flatt has come, and our little part of the world collapses at his arrival. We must plan.”

“It’s true, then? Erick Flatt has come to Treehome?” Deep asked.

“Yes,” Light said.

“What are we to do?” asked a petite voice.

“Go to ground. Run and hide,” said Light.

“And when that isn’t enough?” Deep asked.

“… We could kill Erick?” Petite ventured.

“… No. We can’t… Can we?” Deep said, “The Clergy itself went against him, and died for it. We would do no better?”

“I can kill him. I’ll have it done in an hour.” Light asked, “If this is our decision?”

“It will be dangerous, but if we don’t kill him…” Deep said, “Then we will end up like the Clergy.”

“We could…” Petite offered, “We could play nice like Treant has done. We could go to Erick before he starts hunting us, and offer to take on his Curse.”

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

“It is a Blessing, not a Curse.” Light said, “And I will not do that to myself. We must decide if we are to kill him, and we must decide this soon. Otherwise I am going to the Underworld and you will not see me for ten years.”

“Maybe we should just do that now.” Deep said, “I don’t think we should kill him. Melemizargo has plans for Yggdrasil. We do not want Sininindi’s World Tree to be the only one left to our Dark God, for that would complicate everything.”

Petite offered, “What we could do, is not tell everyone else, and then let Erick find them, but not us. We can clear house and leave our underlings out to dry. Then we come back much stronger in ten years.”

“Or, in ten years, Erick’s Imaging might be able to penetrate into the Underworld, and we will never be safe.” Light said, “Which is why we have to kill him now, if we are ever to have a chance.”