199, 2/2

Zolan was satisfied.

The bed was comfortable, the blankets soft and the mattress just the right amount of firm. The pillows at his back supported his spine, raising him up into a seated position, but they were not needed to support his head, for his neck was strong. He gazed out at the ocean, at the vast blueness below, and at the sun in the distance. That great big ball of fire was already coloring the sky with oranges and golds. The sunsets at Oceanside were always spectacular. Zolan loved watching them for well over the last hundred years of his life.

Ten years ago, he had thought he had seen the last sunsets of his life, but then he carried on for another decade, and now he was here.

And he was seeing the first sunset of his new, long life.

Zolan smiled, not only because of the number of days he had left, but also at the smaller joys. His butt wasn’t asleep from this odd, semi-uncomfortable position, even though he had been sitting here like this for the last hour, just looking out the window. And his joints didn’t ache. And dinner had been wonderful. And he had kept it all down! And he didn’t have diarrhea afterwards! He also managed to get to the toilet all on his own. Twice he had used the toilet since they had first woken him up half a day ago, and he first saw his new body. He had managed a nice little shower all on his own in the middle of the day, a few hours ago, and he had even tested out the plumbing.

It all worked, and really well, too!

Zolan was impressed with Wizard Flatt’s craftsmanship. It was like being blessed by a god of secular power. Zolan had gained his fair share of godly blessings over the years; they were what had allowed him to live so long. But being ‘blessed’ by a Wizard was on a whole different level.

Zolan thought back to that bath again. He almost wanted to take another one, just because he could. He was young again and he didn’t have to worry about scales tearing off as he washed his skin with a normal cloth, nor did he have to worry about rashes from using the scented soaps. And he could still smell those scented soaps on his skin even now, hours after the shower. The small smells of his old body didn’t assault his senses like they had for the last 60 years.

So many things had changed.

Zolan even had a job waiting for him when he finally got out of this hospital room!

His mind whirred for that sort of proper stimulation again. To look over books and to connect information with other information. To pull apart the insides of an organization and put it all back together in the best possible ways. He had places to be! Sights to see and a—

A whole life ahead of him.

He smiled and a tear fell down his face, as the truth of the situation hit him again, for perhaps the hundredth time. It was still so unbelievable. He had lost a lot in order to gain this new life. From level 92, to level 0. Race changed to demi. All of his magic and all of his godly blessings he had gained over all his long life dedicated to Oceanside, to the Arcanaeum Consortium, to Rozeta and her son. All of that was gone.

He had lost some of his name as well.

No longer ‘Goldbranch’, he was ‘Brightborn’. And he had started off with Stats all near 20. He had lost and gained in unequal measure, but he felt, on the whole, he had gained more than he had lost.

He hadn’t lost his family, though.

Zorik, that big lug of a paladin great grandson, sat sleeping in his armor in a chair in the corner of Zolan’s hospital room. Someone had thrown a blanket over the boy and he slept soundly. Ah! The miracle of youth; able to sleep in armor! A mundane miracle if there ever was one.

Zolan didn’t blame Zorik for his sleep, though. The poor kid had been fraught with worry for the past fifteen days, ever since it was official that Zolan was going to try for a position at House Benevolence. The boy almost had a war response when they were going through Zolan’s initial soul tests, where the Headmaster’s proclamations were held until the end.

Those initial soul tests had turned out very positive, though they were still waiting for the final results…

But the initial results were good, and Zorik had crashed for the first time in a long time, now that he knew his grandpapa was still his grandpapa. Zolan loved that boy. He was a good great grandson.

After Zorik completed his Paladin training and Class elevation, he had been assigned by the Church of Rozeta to protect and watch over Zolan. This was, of course, because Zolan and Zorik worked to make that happen. Usually such an assignment simply did not happen, but Zolan still had a lot of pull in his retirement. It was much nicer having his favorite great grandson close by all the time, instead of some other Paladin, even if Zolan sometimes felt he was too much of a burden…

All the time.

Now, though…

Now.

Everything had changed.

“Knock knock,” said a visitor at the open door.

Zolan turned and smiled. “Ah. I didn’t see you arrive.”

The Headmaster looked as he always did; as well put together as possible. He did allow himself a genuine smile, though; a rare expression for one of his station. As he walked into the room, he asked, “What’s your range?”

Zorik startled awake from his chair, ready for war, but then he saw the intruder was only the Headmaster, so he settled back down. He did not try to go back to sleep, though; he simply stood and made himself ready for anything.

“2 meters. Barely worth noting at all.” Zolan said, “A curious thing, that. I find that being able to actually see the world with my own eyes is making me less inclined to stretch my mana sense as much as I should. Of course, your moratorium on spell casting doesn’t help.”

The Headmaster chuckled. “Well about that: your [Reincarnation] is now officially accepted as real. We’ve run all the tests we want to run. I’m here to congratulate you, and to announce that you are free to start regaining what you lost.”

Zorik breathed out, his silver armor making small settling sounds as the Paladin relaxed.

Zolan was pretty darned happy, too.

With a false sense of finality, the Headmaster casually declared, “You won’t be allowed inside the archives, or any other sensitive locations though, now that you have declared yourself for House Benevolence and Erick.”

Ha!

“I’m glad to hear you’re calling him ‘Erick’ and not ‘The Wizard’.” Zolan said, “Gives me hope for the future that you’re already so familiar with my new boss.”

The Headmaster smirked a little. “Usually, foreign dignitaries will at least stand when I meet them.”

“I am a hospital patient and I will milk this for all that I can.”

The Headmaster chuckled.

Zolan said, “Dinner was great, by the way. I’m glad to see that the kitchen remains up to standards.”

“Only the best for an ally.”

Zolan realized something. “You’re really happy about this. Even more than I am, I think.”

“Of course I am, and for so many different reasons.” The Headmaster said, “Allow me to give you the latest one: including you, Erick has accepted all 16 applicants I sent him, and will be giving each one a [Reincarnation]. Mox is already on her way back to get her treatment.”

Ha?

Ha!

A great big mirth burbled up from Zolan’s stomach, multiplied in his chest, and came out as a great big, full-throated laugh. Tears of joy fell once again. The Headmaster joined him with a smaller chuckle, but Zolan knew there was more to be said; more nuance and more details. That could wait, however. The Headmaster allowed Zolan to have this moment.

It was a good moment.

Eventually, though, the Headmaster said, “It’s more complicated than that, of course.”

Zolan wiped away some of his tears, saying, “Of course it is.”

The Headmaster pulled a nice set of grey and white clothes from the air and set them on the table beside Zolan, saying, “Get dressed and let’s take a walk, since that is something you can do now.” He smiled and began walking away.

The Headmaster was overjoyed.

And Zolan was, too.

Zolan threw off his blankets and easily hopped out of bed, moving in a way that was completely unfamiliar to him, and yet, was growing on him. He was adjusting. He was remembering how he used to move, back when movement was easy, when his legs didn’t crack with every bend, when his spine used to move without breaking, and when he could uncurl his hands and actually use his fingers as they were meant to be used.

He was lithe and mobile, and he could take off his own hospital gown easily.

Zorik averted his gaze, the copper scales of his face heating up as he mumbled, “This is so weird.”

“Weird can be good, Zorik!” Zolan said as he began changing, his new underthings and pants fitting him well. As Zolan looked in the mirror set into the wall, he smiled, adding, “Holy fucks I look great. Look at this chest! These arms! This stomach! This ASS! Erick— My king does good work!” He turned to Zorik, laughing a little as he threw his arms wide, saying, “Look at this! This is fantastic!”

But Zorik wasn’t looking at Zolan’s body at all. He was looking at Zolan’s face, and there was sadness in his eyes. Zorik said, “This is… I’m very happy for you, grandpapa, but this is a thing I don’t understand.”

Zolan composed himself. He rapidly put on his new shirt, as he said, “It’s just life, and life is weird. It’s boring, too. But also wonderful. Exciting. Old and new at the same time. And then there are special events, things you see so rarely that they appear to be miracles. Those events throw everything you thought you knew into turmoil. Usually, those events come along once every few decades.” Zolan finished putting on his jacket. “I was prepared to go onto my everlasting life with Rozeta in the Script, thinking I had seen the last of my miracles, but I’ve seen too many miracles in the past two years to be satisfied with a natural end. I have to see what comes with my own eyes, and I have to help build that future, too. I hope you can be okay with that decision.”

“I’m fine with it. I’m just… It’s weird.”

Zolan smiled wide. “Life is weird, but gods above, life is also very good.”

Zorik asked, “Why demi, though?”

“You’ll find out when you’re older and a stray scale falls off in bed and pokes you in the side all night long because you can’t move yourself, and then you get a small infection that turns into something large because you were too stubborn to inform your nurses of your proper needs.” Zolan said, “Scales are great when you’re young and healthy and getting into fights on a daily basis, but they’re not practical when your plans mostly involve shaping paper.”

Zorik was briefly horrified. Had he failed in his duty? Had he failed his grandpapa?

Zolan added, “That happened years before you came along. By the time you became my main guard, I learned how to restrain my movement so that wouldn’t happen as much. There’s a lot of self-limiting you do as you grow old. Too much to ever really mention to others. Don’t worry about it.” He waved away the horror of the moment, and he was going to say something else, but he fixated on his fingers. Fingers. Not claws. He waggled the pale violet digits at Zorik, saying, “Fingers! Not claws! Weird, but fun!”

Zorik grumbled a little.

Zolan ignored that and opened the door. He stepped out into the hallway, where the Headmaster waited.

Zolan had to look down to see the guy.

This brought Zolan a lot more joy than he would have thought possible.

The Headmaster had to look up to greet him, which he did, and with a smile. “It’s been a while since I had to actually look up to you.”

“I always did enjoy knowing that I was briefly taller than you, and now I’m back here again.” Zolan smiled. “Even if you could simply be taller if you wished.”

The Headmaster happily said, “Being big isn’t all that great.”

Zolan laughed a little, and then he and the Headmaster began walking down the hallway.

Eventually they would talk of important things, of what the Headmaster had heard of House Benevolence’s plans for the future, and of magic that Zolan once knew and would need to reacquire, but for now, they spoke of small things as they strolled toward the entrance of the hospital. They spoke of the past, and though Zolan recognized the Headmaster’s talk of old times as a small test of memory, to see if he was still all there, Zolan was happy to succeed on those tests, and give some of his own. Neither the Headmaster nor Zolan could truly believe that this [Reincarnation] thing had worked so well, but as they spoke, they both came to realize that yes, this really had happened.

In his unsaid thoughts, Zolan was absolutely sure that the Headmaster would not lie about the truth of this magic in order to secure an alliance with Erick, and especially not if Erick was actually a con artist; if he was mangling souls into the shapes of the formerly alive, like Messalina, the Life Binder. That woman’s [True Resurrection] was an absolutely horrific magic that still plagued this world, over 300 years since its creation, though the only people who truly knew what that magic actually did were Messalina, the Headmaster, and the gods. Zolan and most of the world was of the impression that [True Resurrection] was a fake magic, and the Life Binder was duping everyone who went to her asking to get a loved one back. False souls in fake bodies, it was!

But sometimes the Headmaster got this look in his eyes when the subject came up…

Whatever the case, that soul-mangling had been why the Headmaster had decried [True Resurrection] as false, and why he had exiled his wife and killed his fake children. Perhaps, though, when they got into a more secure location than here on the street, Zolan would ask the Headmaster about [Reincarnation] and [True Resurrection], directly.

But for now, they spoke of current events and memories, stretching back from mere days, to a century ago, back when Zolan first started working for the Headmaster, back when he got his start in the department of student affairs.

All the while Zorik followed, shiny in his armor and looking less worried with every passing minute.

– – – –

Mox Dawnsider once again sat in a chair in Erick’s office, and this time she had completed paperwork.

“Thank you for allowing me to verify your words and your magic with my own eyes and resources, my king.” Mox said, “I am ever thankful for your benevolence.”

Erick had already looked over [Reincarnation] paperwork, but now he looked over Mox. She was thrilled, scared, ready for danger, and ready for a bitter end. Whatever happened, would happen. She was different from her first visit. Now she believed, fully, and without reservation.

Her body was different from last time, too. A small cavity of fluid had opened up around her pancreas; the result of a [Cleanse], perhaps? In fact, there were dozens of such small cavities here and there, but in just the same way, there were dozens of small healthy bits here and there. Only one day later, and Mox’s soul scarred body had been halfway transformed due to all the healing and cleaning magics she always had to use on herself.

She needed this cure. She wanted this cure.

Erick was glad he could bring her this cure.

Erick tried to bring down her anxiety level, though, saying, “I understand that Zolan is walking around and he’ll be here in two days, after his great grandson helps him to secure some easy levels. I trust you have a similar convalescence planned?”

Mox said, “I do. Everything is ready. After this, I ask for your assistance in transporting me to Oceanside, whereupon I will make all reasonable haste to rejoin you here at House Benevolence. If that is agreeable with you, my king.”

“It’s fine with me. Are you ready?”

Mox stood up, standing as tall as she was able. She breathed deep, then said, “Everything was on the paper but… If possible… I would like…” She breathed. She said, “I would like really great skin— And to keep my analytical mind of course. Please, my king.”

Erick smiled softly as he stood, saying, “I’ll do everything I can to grant all of your wishes, Mox.” He flooded [Merciful Ether] across her body as he started moving his sunform in, saying, “Now just breathe deep, and count backward from one hundred. I got you. You’re safe here.”

“I believe you,” Mox whispered, as she rose on tendrils of soft lightning, her heartbeat racing as she rapidly began counting backwards, “One-hundred, ninety-nine, ninety-eight…”

She got all the way to 73 before her speech slurred and her heartbeat slowed.

– – – –

Mox was now an exceptionally beautiful human woman of dark, perfect skin. There was not a blemish on her, and in some ways she seemed like she had makeup on. Her soul was whole, and she had both her eyes once again.

When the world had fractured under the power of [Reincarnation], and a thousand hopes for the future appeared in those fractures, Erick had picked out the one that most closely resembled the one Mox had picked out for herself. She was a mother of four, with a husband of indeterminate personage looking after the kids, while she organized worlds and people. She still had time for her kids, though, and eventually she was able to raise her kids to powerhouses who brought peace and prosperity wherever they went.

Erick sent Mox through the [Gate], onto the waiting [Floating Platform] of the hospital staff, and under the watchful eyes of Kirginatharp.

The Second to Rozeta watched as Mox was floated away, out of the receiving room, smiling the whole time. And then he turned to Erick. He was still smiling.

“Greetings, Erick.”

“Hello again,” Erick said, “I’ve been informed that you heard the plan for my overseer positions.”

Kirginatharp nodded. “Stratagold will likely offer their own words about all that, but I have nothing really more to add except… I had a talk with Zolan. He’s out with his great grandson right now, regaining some levels. But he said something that has stuck with me. He envisions you as the living embodiment of a treaty between our many lands, which feels appropriate.

“I have a slight concern that you are allowing one of those Deaths to oversee your branch of enforcement, but… I’m sure you can make that work. You seem to have a plan, and though I find it unconventional, it will likely work as well as everything else you have tried.

“I’m glad to see you’re undertaking this new mantle with the severity it demands, and I’m truly thankful that you’re taking everyone I offered. It will be good to see them all walking around and working again, even if they aren’t working for me.” Kirginatharp smiled. “Even if some of them aren’t how I remember them, either.”

“They need not be strangers to Oceanside,” Erick said, “I invited Zolan to move some of his family over, as well.”

“I know the boy will stay with Zolan, but the rest will likely take time to show, if they do at all. His name changed, do you know?”

Erick startled a little. “No. I did not know that.”

“Brightborn.” Kirginatharp said, “It’s a good name.” He added, “It’s already started a big problem with the Goldbranchs but I doubt it will turn into anything more than family drama. Zolan is still their original patriarch, after all.”

“… Huh.” Erick glanced to the hallway where Mox had vanished, saying, “Huh.”

Kirginatharp continued, “Aside from that, all of your reincarnators will be weak for a while, so I hope you will put them up in truly secure housing while they regain their power, or at least until you get some proper guard at your House.”

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

“Easily done.” Erick said, “There’s plenty of space for more housing on Yggdrasil.”

Kirginatharp breathed out a small sigh of relief, then said, “Thank you, Erick.”

Erick nodded. “Thank you as well, Kirginatharp, for all the wonderful staff.”

“You are a living peace treaty; it is only right that I participate as much as I can.” Kirginatharp made to move on, saying, “Now if you will excuse me, I must attend to Mox.”

“Before you go. I have to ask… Is Mox not really that close with her family? There are obvious holes in her resume when compared to what she said she wanted. She didn’t even show up with anyone.”

Kirginatharp paused for a moment, thinking, then he said, “Most of Mox’s family has been killed by exterior forces, or they became very good at hiding. I doubt she actually visited you alone. I’m sure she will tell you more when she wakes, though.”

… Was that the reason for the cleared history of the manasphere here and there inside the House?

Perhaps.

Erick nodded. “Thank you, then. And now I’ve got a meeting with Stratagold. See you later.”

Kirginatharp smirked, nodded, and began to follow where Mox had gone.

Erick closed the portal.

– – – –