168, 1/2

The rift in the roof of Enduring Forge’s cavern showed stars and the hint of a sunset far away, while down below, where Erick stood, the city remained lit with diffuse light. The shadows were relegated to the deepest corners of unused housing, but there was not much of that to be had, for the city was rather packed. Upon this land of several square kilometers, between 130,000 to 140,000 people lived, though precise counts failed due to the transient population that moved in and out as they desired.

Erick was rather concerned with those transient populations, but only for one reason. He shared his concern with the people standing next to him, “I don’t want to be responsible for an accidental death that is easily avoided. Someone could come into the city with an underlying problem and not know that there is a danger. But if you’re sure…” He let his voice trail off, not sure what his own implication was in doing so, only that it felt right to let these people fill in the blanks on their own, with whatever they wished to think.

Erick stood on the steps of city hall, looking across at the platforms for the noble district, and the Smithy, while down below lay the main land of Enduring Forge. He was not the only one standing on those steps. Arakag Adama, the current Mayor of Enduring Forge, along with Grosgrena Adama, the Old Smith, and Barir Adama, the General of the Armies, stood nearby. More people besides those stood further away, near guards or on their own to witness the spectacle of the night. All of everyone present was dressed in finery, fit for a party, for the banquet was scheduled to start right after Erick had finished with the [Withering]. All of the people here except for Erick were all quite sure that whatever monsters Erick happened to kill would be small things, while the idea of a person dying was ridiculous.

Erick was wary, though.

Arakag explained, “Our methods for detecting core formation are rather more expansive than you might be used to on the Surface. Not only have we actively Scanned for all cores in the last few days, but we’ve also hung up a few discreet detectors in the doorways of many well-trod areas across the city; at the entrance to the churches, and the beer halls, across a few roads here and there, and even in the entrance of city hall.” She gestured behind them all, toward the large double doors. A thin metal frame addition had been stuck inside the main door frame. Runes upon that addition were lit with detection magics. She added, “We even retrofitted much of the runic web to include these additions, while in some places, we merely replaced and recharged old systems, for much of this has been overkill; or normal systems catch all possible cannibals, anyway.”

“I noticed all of those, and I thank you for taking the time… Even if they are redundant to your usual methods.” In a moment of vulnerability, and since there was almost no one else around since this was the time between daylight and night hours, Erick sighed, and said, “It seems that my recent problems with a war in another part of the world has caused me to be spell-shy when it comes to using a few of my magics how they were meant to be used.” He added, “At least this one is still prevented by a basic [Weather Ward].”

Barir said, “Our Beastmasters are prepared; we expect no casualties there.”

Grosgrena said, “And the Smithy has a special allowance to let this spell flow into there; this day only.”

“It took a while, but we got it done.” Arakag said, “We have ensured that no one is hurt that doesn’t need to be hurt. We’re ready whenever you are, Archmage Flatt.

Grosgrena smiled small, while Barir stood tall and Arakag gave a small nod. None of them said it, but they would wait here with Erick, for as long as it took.

Erick decided to get on with it.

Ophiels flew out into the city, each one casting [Domain of the Withering Slime], each one supporting a three-meter wide sphere of ghostly white light, summoning a tsunami of thick air out of the manasphere. Their intangible spells crashed, silently, effortlessly, into the main platform down below, and up across the platforms above, some spilling outward, some lifting up. Three Ophiels started the show, but more came soon enough. Soon, seven orbs of light had spread throughout the entire cavern of Enduring Forge, easily covering the entire city and some of the lands beyond, but Erick kept the spellwork mostly inside the cavern. While [Weather Ward]s had been laid down some of the larger tunnels to protect the Reset, there was no need to go pressing against those spells.

Instantly, notifications started pouring in.

Erick warily listed them off, “Rockmite larva, Rockmite queen, cloakers, slimes of all sorts—” Erick paused. He asked, “Steel ooze?” He was struck with several simultaneous problems with that latest notification. “But it’s steel? Not water-based?”

Arakag went stock still—

Grosgrena laughed. “Ha! I knew we had one of them! Fuckers are smart.”

“Where was it?” Barir asked.

“No idea. I could scan for it later?” Erick counted up the zeros in the notification, then said, “I think it was level 82.” Didn’t budge his own exp numbers, though.

“It was at the Smithy.” Grosgrena said, “And it’s technically a platinum ooze, but naming conventions are what they are. Been around for a long time, too, if the stories of platinum slimes could be counted as true. Every so often someone reports a platinum slime, but then the little critter vanishes. An ooze had to be hunting the slimes, for sure, but no one could ever catch sight of the beast. And now it’s gone! Ha— Oh. This means we might get a platinum slime spawn, soon.” She added, “I’ll have my people search for the body. Bet there’s a good deal of odd treasures wherever it laired.”

“But it’s metal,” Erick came back to. “And oozes don’t have cores?”

Grosgrena shrugged. “What can I say; before today it was more myth than known fact. Maybe it was just a really big slime with a proper core and named funny by the Script?”

“Well. Sure. I’ve seen stranger shit.” Erick was not sure if he had ever seen a misnamed Kill Notification, though, but he let it go. He read off another strange listing, “Rune slimes?”

Grosgrena smirked. “Unique variety, but rather standard around here in the main platform’s sewers. They like to eat at the exposed runic web, sucking down magic that is not theirs to suck.”

Erick nodded, then he saw the next notification and prepared himself for a bad time. “What’s an ‘adamantium sucker’?”

No one seemed to care, though.

Barir was the first to answer, “It’s a bug-like monster about the size of an adult’s torso that eats the magic out of the adamantium chains, like the runic slimes. It’s mostly harmless unless we get a massive, massive outbreak of them and they manage to drain the defenses, though that almost never happens.”

“It’s happened twice before,” Grosgrena said, unworried.

They let the topic drop…

Which meant that adamantium suckers weren’t a problem.

After a bit of searching, Erick found one of the non-problematic monsters. In the cavernous, broken land below the city —Down Below, as it was known— there were black-body dried monster corpses laying here and there, like they had fallen off of the adamantium chains directly above. Which is probably exactly what happened. They looked like shriveled spider corpses, but stockier, blacker, and thinner, with mouths that looked like a lamprey’s. If they were alive, Erick suspected that they could easily hide among the house-sized black chains of Enduring Forge.

After the initial burst of notifications the rate of new kills slowed down considerably, and then, after a little more than a minute since the last notification, stopped altogether. Through Ophiel’s eyes, Erick watched thick air play through towers and caress the adamantium chain links that held the city in the center of the cavern. The whole city had been notified previously that this was going to take place, and so some people were out on the roads, running their hands through the thick air that rushed down their streets, like they were at the bottom of a fast river. Some kids played in the streams. Some of the very young tried to swim, but you couldn’t swim on thick air.

After another full minute without another notification, and feeling like he had tested Fate enough, Erick said, “That’s all, it seems.” He ended the spellwork. Thick air retreated back into the fully-surrounding light, vanishing like mirages into the middle distance. Erick said, “Done.”

Grosgrena giggled like a woman a tenth her age, saying, “Amazing! Thank you, archmage.”

Arakag bowed a little, saying, “You do us a great service, but I am glad to see our own methods have already mostly secured our lands.”

Barir asked, “How many adamantium sucker notifications did you get?”

Erick checked. “Looks like 1500.”

Arakag breathed deep, looking supremely happy.

Grosgrena had a much more practical response. She said to Barir, “Even if he got all of them, don’t you slack off. They’ll come back stronger than ever if we don’t keep up normal patrols; they always do.”

“I’m aware.” Barir said, “I’ll divert sucker patrol to seeker squad. See if we can disrupt the egg cycle.”

Erick took a small joy in the naming of Barir’s squads; they were most certainly the jokes of various soldiers—

Arakag asked, “So? No people, correct?”

“Ah! Yeah. No people.” Erick happily said, “No people. Good prep work, you all.”

Grosgrena smirked. Barir relaxed a fraction.

Arakag announced, “Then, it is with great pleasure, that I announce that the Reset of the Cavern and of Enduring Forge is complete, and without incident.” She spoke to everyone present, “Thank you all, for your hard work in achieving this working.” She said to Erick, “And thank you, most of all, Archmage Erick Flatt.”

Grosgrena bowed to Erick, alongside Barir, and Arakag. The nearby black-armored soldiers stationed to the sides of the wide staircase bowed, and all the other nobles on the stairs followed suit.

Arakag rose. Her voice took on a deeper, distant flow, as she spoke to the whole city, but also just to them, there on the staircase of city hall. “Let the celebrations commence!”

Erick’s train of thought derailed as a bright, sparkling light launched from the top of a tower near the middle of the city. That light shot up into the sky, and suspended, briefly, before it exploded into a shower of red and white glints that spread like a blossoming flower.

Erick’s heart was in his throat the whole time as he watched the [Fireball], but everyone else seemed perfectly calm.

Then the next exploding ball of light showered the air with blue and green glints, followed rapidly by many more fireworks launched from many different towers, here and there across the city. People down below were already breaking out into celebrations, with people opening kegs and starting up bands and clapping hands with their neighbors. Some people got into the mood quickly, to start dancing to the music with others who were similarly happy.

It was then that Erick realized he was having a minor War Response, instead of being happy that everything had gone well. The feeling remained, but Erick successfully pretended to not be spooked by the loud noises and bright lights.

Arakag spoke proudly, “If we could all please reconvene at the noble district, the primary celebration will begin in half an hour and last about three hours.” She said to Erick, “I have been informed that many of the houses have various runic artifacts in their various possessions that they wish to display for your perusal. Should I inform them that you are interested?”

Erick’s PTSD was temporarily fully forced back into the background, as he smiled, laughed a little, then said, “Yes! I’m very interested in that. How did you kn— Ah. Well. I never made any attempts to hide what I wanted, did I? What sort of runic artifacts?”

With a pleasant smile of her own, Arakag gestured to some of the people present, explaining, “House Whitesteel, with Scion Yarlinnia, has an Arcane Attuner which allows for plain, channeled mana to produce a Solid Ward of decent size. House Slate, with Patriarch Jalrock, has a Sliding System which you will surely enjoy. House Platinum, with Patriarch Rial Plat has a Slime Spawner which allows various spellwork to produce metal slimes on command.” She gestured to herself, saying, “And House Adama has a secret about runic webs that we wish to share, in the hopes that you may bring this magic to the rest of the world, but we do not speak of this particular secret out loud.”

Erick’s eyes went wide as he looked upon the gathered people, and smiled at the opportunity presented to him. This was going to be great!

Before he could respond—

Grosgrena blurted out, “They’re taking that one out of storage?” She stared at Barir, demanding, “Really?”

Barir nodded, saying, “It’s the least we can do for the Archmage.” He said to Erick, “House Adama has many secrets, but this might aid you more than others. Our sincerest hope is that if you discover something interesting that you share this knowledge with us.”

Even though he had no idea what they were talking about, it seemed important, so Erick had absolutely no problem saying, “Of course!”

“I’d like you to figure out how to take adamantium apart, too, Archmage.” Grosgrena said, “Because you need it too, right! I bet that [Grand Fireball] staff you made is already rusted to shit.”

Erick laughed easily, saying, “It is, and you’re right, too. I’d love to know how to work adamantium, too.”

Grosgrena said, “Good! Long as we all have our priorities straight.” She waved a hand, signing off, “See you all at the party. I’m taking the shortcut.” And then she blipped away in a flicker of black and thick air.

Many of the other nobles bowed, before they, too, blipped away.

Arakag glanced backward.

Teressa, Nirzir, and Jane, stood back beyond the congregation. Poi was the only one of Erick’s people who remained a mere two meters from him. All of them wore their best set of clothes that they had brought with them on this trip.

Arakag asked, “Does everyone know how to get to the party? I could take your people if you have somewhere else to be at this particular moment.”

Erick took the offer, saying, “They’d love to follow you. Poi and I will meet you there shortly.”

Jane frowned a little, probably more because she had wanted to be there when Erick met with Darabella to intimidate the woman. Honestly, Erick was thankful for Arakag’s offer, even if the making of such an offer indicated a high degree of spying.

Arakag, Barir, and the girls left through the Teleport Square first.

And then it was Erick and Poi’s turn, but they went somewhere else.

– – – –

The main city was almost entirely in celebration with people drinking and singing in the streets, while restaurants and vendors sold food from windows and from carts. It would be at least an hour before people really got into the party spirit, but some happy fools were already bare chested and deep into their cups, and looking to get deeper.

Most of those people stayed off of Steel Street, itself, since this was a particularly ritzy part of town and these people preferred parties inside their multi-level homes. But Steel Street had a Teleport Square at one end of it, and there were people out tonight.

Erick mostly avoided the crowds.

Mostly.

“AYYYY! It’s the Archmage!” Yelled a particularly happy woman from the second floor balcony of her mansion, as she looked over the railing, directly down at Erick. Her chest was barely covered, and she sported two mugs of ale, one in each hand, that seemed small in comparison to her massive breasts. “Ey! Everyone! It’s Erick down—”

Poi calmly said, “This is not the Erick you are looking for.”

The woman, right as other people up there with her were beginning to clamber forward, announced, “False alarm! Just an Ophiel.”

Erick smiled wide.

Some man further up there yelled out, “You’re drunk!”

“And looking to get drunker!” said the boisterous woman, turning back to her party. “Tell that band to play louder! Louder, I say! Ha ha!”

Someone cast a spell near the band up there, and their music suddenly pounded out into the bright night. They weren’t the only band playing loud. Ophiel twittered on Erick’s shoulder, joining his own quiet song to the music that poured out of high class beer halls and private parties here and there.

And so passed the third non-event in the last three minutes since stepping off of the Teleport Square, or at least the third one that Poi directly prevented from happening.

Erick chuckled a bit as he walked on, toward his destination.

The road itself was narrow, at only three meters wide. Compared to most roads in most other parts of the world, Steel Street was more of an alleyway, since the buildings on both sides towered above and there were no lawns to be had. Each bordering structure was at least three or four stories tall, but there had been a pair of towers seven stories tall back there. Despite the cramped quarters, there were no shadows down here. Light was everywhere inside Enduring Forge, after all. Walking here didn’t feel nearly as claustrophobic as Erick had feared.

There were some nice sights down here. One of them was ahead and to the left.

The Church of the Forgotten Light. It was a remarkable building of spiraling columns with firelights contained inside those columns, and walls made of opaque, white stone. In some places the opaqueness of the stone had been drawn back, like mist, allowing the wall to become clear crystal, forming windows. From afar and at first glance the building appeared plain, but the entire thing, inside and out, with multiple stories and multiple alcoves of importance, was carved up like an altar to Atunir with hundreds of thousands of small dioramas playing out all across the opaque stone and even in some of the crystal-clear spots. A normal person could probably spend a full day studying the sculptures and maybe get through half of them.

Erick wanted to go in there and spend an hour looking at it all. It might take him that long to understand the full story on display. Erick had never heard of the Church of Forgotten Light until he came here, so this was all very new to him, but there were no people inside the building, and no one seemed to be interested in the place. It seemed… Forgotten; but that seemed too on-the-nose. And yet it wasn’t forgotten at all; the place was clearly kept together and clean and presentable by someone.

A brief check through the manasphere of the past revealed what appeared to be normal people going into the place to pay their respects to the sculptures in the alcoves. A bit more looking revealed an old man in white robes who cast various spells as he walked around the place for maybe an hour in the last 12. Erick got the impression that the church was dedicated to the Old Cosmology. There were definite sculptures of broken worlds in there.

But that mystery would have to wait for later.

Because on the right side of the street was a mansion like most of the others, where Darabella sat on a small chair in a room in the front, reading a book by a window. She looked wonderful. Erick had only taken a few minutes to distract himself with the mystery of the Church of the Forgotten Light, but now, it was on to better things!

He walked over to the front door, which was set back from the road, and triggered a few [Alarm Ward]s as he knocked upon the door. A pleasant chime echoed inside the well-appointed abode. Erick tried not to pry too much, though he did have his mana sense open as a matter of course.

Darabella heard the doorbell and promptly flipped her shit, throwing her book across the room where it slammed into the wall and tumbled down. She ignored the crumpled reading material as she rushed to the front door, touching her reddish-brown hair as she went by a mirror, making sure her flyaways were less airborne. Then she rapidly moved to the door and then calmed herself, before opening it, and saying, “Hello, Erick.”

Yellow dress, sunny overcoat, a bright smile, and kind eyes to match the cute dimples in her cheeks.

Erick honestly said, “You’re beautiful. Hello, Darabella.”

Darabella’s slightly red-brown cheeks tinted even redder as she giggled, saying, “You’re pretty nice, too.”

A nice, calm moment passed.

And then Darabella stepped out of her house and closed the door behind her— “Shall we—” but the door didn’t latch. It swung back open. Darabella stared at the offending, misbehaving door for a second, then she rapidly grabbed the handle and yanked it hard, slamming the door shut with a click. She breathed out, then casually touched a set of runes in the doorframe. An [Alarm Ward] spread throughout the entire structure; it wasn’t a Solid Ward at all, but at least it would alert her if someone entered the place without her permission. And then she turned to Erick, asking, “Shall we take the shortcut?”

“Yes.” Erick let his light touch Poi, while he held out his hand to Darabella. She slipped her hand into his and gave a gentle squeeze, sending Erick’s heart to flutter right alongside her own. Erick smiled, and said, “We’ll take the shortcut.”

“I’m ready,” Darabella said, with a happy lilt.

White light flashed, and then they were elsewhere.

– – – –

The noble district of Enduring Forge, upon the third platform of the uppermost tier of the city, and with a good view of the crack in the cavern above, looked exactly as it should have looked, considering that not many nobles actually lived here full time. It was a place of unchanging stability, of mansions built for looks and for storage, rather than for individuals and assorted populations. The walls were ornate and runed all throughout, with some holding way too much power to be easily taken down and reapplied as they would have to be, if the people here moved freely. So they did not move freely at all. Knowing what he now knew about this place, Erick could tell that the noble district was more of a storage yard pretending at being a living space, than a living space with storage options.

Some of the more solid constructions here and there were completely opaque to Erick’s mana sense, with windows that were little more than ornate fakery upon solid walls that were solid steel, meant to keep everyone out. From the air, which was heavily crisscrossed with [Alarm Ward]s and all sorts of detective and preventive magics, and from far away, because there was no way Erick was letting Ophiel get close to some of those defensive spells, Erick guessed that the whole noble district was about 85% fake.

But that was the function of the noble district.

What it actually looked like, though, was opulence in comfortable wood and creamy stone, with carved magic emplaced behind very delineated property lines, with short walls between properties that even the un-Matriculated could hop over, if they wanted. Inside those property lines, in what had to be some sort of showing-off contest, it seemed every house tried to outdo their neighbors with style and beauty. Soaring towers. Sky bridges. Artistic lighting illuminating countless balconies and courtyards all over the place.

Only about 30% of what was out there was habitable, with at least 70% of the more solid-looking ‘houses’ here and there being secured facilities that were hardly ever meant to be opened. The entire place was filled with Anti-Magic runes of all kinds, too. Erick didn’t see any hostile runes in any of the workings, here or there, so anyone probably could fly in here, or whatever, and try to get around, but good luck to them actually getting inside any of these places. You probably couldn’t blip, or [Stoneshape], anywhere within a hundred meters of this place.

Erick was almost tempted to try, to see if he could. He refrained, obviously, but the small voice telling him to try, to test the magic, and see how it worked, was never far away.

They weren’t headed to any of those well protected places, though.

Erick, Darabella, and Poi appeared upon a hexagon of white stone, off center of the platform. Six roads led off in six directions, but the largest road, the one to the north, split into two roads further down the way, heading left and right. The entire platform had been divided into seven somewhat equal-sized areas. Their destination laid down the largest path, to the north.

Guards and escorts stood apart from the Teleport Hexagon, and it was easy to tell which was which. The guards were in black armor. The escorts were nobles themselves, for sure, for they called out new arrivals onto the square by name, and were dressed in finery that matched those of the people blipping into the space. Most people were here for their friends.

But Erick had an escort, too.

Not two seconds after appearing on the hexagon, Jalrock called out, “Archmage!” The young patriarch of house Slate waved as he came forward, happily saying, “Welcome to the noble district!” He bowed, then raised, saying, “Thank you for your service.”

Some of the nearby nobles also bowed, giving small thanks. Darabella involuntarily squeezed his left hand, obviously nervous that many eyes lingered upon her. Erick returned the gesture, hoping to calm her, but really, she was the one who knew everyone here; Erick was the one who was out of place. And speaking of being out of place, Erick decided to move their little gathering off of the Teleport Hexagon, for other people were coming and going from this location rather rapidly.

Once he had relocated to the side, Erick said, “Thank you for the invite.” He gestured with his free hand, asking, “The party is that way?”

Jalrock nodded, saying, “A short walk down a small road, to the House of Adama. Your daughter and other people went that way, not fifteen minutes ago. The party is already underway.” He asked, “As far as order of events is concerned, we would like you to take your seat at the high table for a few talks while the banquet is served, but after the meals are over there are any hundred of options for magical learning stationed all across the noble district. Everyone wants to talk to you, and to show you what they have, in case they might tempt your interest.” He smiled gently, adding, “We’re glad you came out tonight, too, Darabella. It’s been a while.”

Darabella smiled; a strained expression. “It has been a long while, Jalrock. Sorry I didn’t come to your ascension feast. You’re taking well to your position as the Face of Enduring Forge.”

Erick raised an eyebrow.

Jalrock noticed, and said, “It’s my duty to ensure that guests of honor are well received. I was to be your guide for tonight, but if you wish, Darabella knows everyone here, too.”

Darabella instantly, but quietly, refuted, “No no. I can’t do that—” She paused. She glanced to Erick with hope in her eyes, and then told Jalrock, “I heard you managed to repair the Sliding System.” She said to Erick, “You really should see that one. It always breaks down after every use, but when it’s in motion it’s a miracle of runic engineering.”

Jalrock gave a small grin as he said, “They fixed it up two days ago in preparation to show the archmage.”

Darabella gave a small, “Eee!” Then she looked up to Erick with a sudden flush of worry in her eyes and calmly said, “Uh. If you want to see runic systems I suggest that one above all others.”

Erick smirked, saying, “I want to see this ‘Sliding System’, too.” Arakag had already mentioned that one, specifically, so Erick was happy to see that it was mentioned multiple times. Erick added, “After the festivities.”

“Then since I seem to retain my job for now—” Jalrock gestured down the road. “Please follow me, Archmage Flatt, to a night of cheer and cuisine of the finest order.”

Jalrock took the lead. Erick followed with Darabella holding onto his left hand, and Poi taking position in the rear.

Jalrock Slate gestured to a few of the houses on the way down the road, explaining who lived here or there, and what they primarily did for Enduring Forge. The brief tour didn’t cover much of the noble district, as the road wasn’t more than a few hundred meters long and most of the houses were elsewhere, but Erick did learn a bit about House Slate, which was their tourism and public relations house (though Jalrock did not call it that), and about House Silver, which was primarily responsible for the mining of mundane materials in the city. House Platinum had a beautiful home of steel and silver, and they were responsible for much of the magical metal trade that flowed through Enduring Forge.

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At the end of the street, where the road split left and right, there was an open gate. Beyond that gate lay their destination; House Adama, the home of those personally responsible for the defense of the land. Originally, there had been only one ‘House’, of Clan Adamantium, but that mansion was the city hall, and everyone had moved their storage houses over here hundreds and hundreds of years ago.

The new home of House Adama, the main House, was a brilliant white land of squarish towers and peaked roofs and at least three wings all joined together at a dome in the center. The whole place reminded Erick of a layered cake, or the Taj Mahal, or the Kremlin, but done with four-sided architecture in mind. It had plenty of balcony space on the backside, though, and that was where the party was, but they had to go through the house to get there.

Erick and his party passed a few guards in black plate as they approached the main doors, which were wide open. Small groups of people stood beyond, discussing various topics while they sipped beer from mugs and ate finger foods off of small plates.

The room itself was a massive atrium with a grand staircase beyond that led to the second floor where anyone could wander down any of a dozen different hallways. Everything was white stone, including the underside of the central pyramid-dome of the house, which was just overhead. A blazing white light hung in that space up there, giving off warmth and light like the sun, but less oppressive. Some plants were even growing in the corners of the rooms, soaking up the light.

It was a nice space.

People were already looking his way, many of them eager to speak with him, but Erick got the distinct impression that an order of meetings had been set up ahead of time, due to the way certain people stood here and there in the foyer. Erick would likely meet with them all soon enough.

Jalrock decided to get away from that actual process, though, saying, “I’ll hover around you if you need anything, archmage, but otherwise I will remain unobtrusive.”

“Before you go.” Erick asked, “Does Enduring Forge have other archmages?”

“No.” Jalrock seemed to hide all of his emotions, as he said, “Enduring Forge has no other archmages. If you chose to stay, you would be our only one. This would afford you a certain level of prestige all your own.” And then he bowed, taking his leave.

Poi did not stop himself from leveling a brief, withering glare at the man, but he cut the glare short. Poi’s look was not nearly as hate-filled as it could have been. In response, Erick shoved thoughts at the man about how Spur was still his home, and that he would not leave without good reason.

To which Poi just rolled his eyes—

And there was no more time to dissect any personal interactions, because Arakag Adama stepped away from her people to meet with Erick, saying, “Welcome to House Adama, Archmage Flatt.” She gave a small wave to a nearby caterer who popped right over with three drinks on a white stone platter, as Arakag began, “House Adama thanks you for your service, and hopes you enjoy the vintage. Perhaps you’d like to meet some of our clansmen?”

Erick took his drink while Darabella took hers, and Poi grabbed one, too, but likely only to hold in his hands, to keep up appearances. Erick sipped his wine, and it was good.

Erick said, “Lovely wine. I would love to meet new people.”

And so he did.