246, 1/2

 

“You ready?” Erick asked.

Solomon said, “Yes.”

Lorizal Ex simply nodded.

Actually getting everything together for the summoning of Avandrasolaro had taken a lot longer than a day, for while the Church of Peace was against war and force, it was very much filled with people who liked to talk, and talk, and talk. Which was great for peace! In the absence of force, communication and convincing was king. The only problem with that was that some people used their words like weapons, and they did not know when to stop.

Erick had finally had to step in and simply declare what was going to happen.

And now they were here, two days later than expected. Erick didn’t mind the delay, for his ‘Universal Mapping’ the other day was being discussed in every single hall of power that knew about it. Which had been everyone, as of an hour ago. It hadn’t started that way. Rozeta had told Kromolok and it was rather quiet down in the Geodes for a day, but then news got around from Ar’Cosmos and Fairy because Fairy Moon got a bug up her ass about throwing the biggest, bestest party she could. That party was still going on right now, and it probably would be going on for the foreseeable future. All the world was warned to stay away from that party, for it was like a tidal surge leading into a whirlpool; easily pulling and holding onto everyone who attended it, even if you were prepared for it.

Erick would probably have to intervene in that party later, but not right now. For now, in every kingdom, and in every Geode, and in more than a few adventurer beer halls, they were talking about the size of the universe. ‘Erick’s Map’.

And now Erick was summoning angels from the Dark. Or at least he would in a moment.

One last check.

They stood before the Black Gate, where Dark Dreams swam beyond in a riot of black color. Everything looked normal there.

Erick’s clothes were white and black with silver accents. Immaculate, and made by real professionals. Special made for the occasion, too. Guile had asked what Erick would be wearing, and when Erick showed him, the little fox declared that Erick was not doing nearly enough. ‘You’re summoning a demigod who ruled over trillions of people for eons. Dress better.’ And so Erick had.

Solomon had on a similar cut as Erick’s clothes, but slightly lesser, to denote his station as lesser in this arena, but not too much lesser. Solomon was to be Avandrasolaro’s main human contact, or at least one of the larger archmage/nascent-Wizard forces whom Avandrasolaro would be interfacing with in order to end the Forever War. Hopefully the angel would be okay with that.

No one had any idea what would actually happen when they brought Avandrasolaro back.

Everyone from Koyabez to Rozeta to Kirginatharp to Erick’s own people in House Benevolence all had various ideas. Most of them were optimistic. They all said that Avandrasolaro would have an adjustment period toward life on Veird, but that he should be able to adjust well.

Erick stood in front of the Black Gate. Solomon stood on his right.

Lorizal, an all-red incani and with her horns shaved, stood on Erick’s left, wearing high priestess robes that were rather ancient by modern standards. They looked almost spun from tissue paper, almost translucent and yet well made. They showed off the simple wrap around her chest and a simple loincloth underneath. Which was the idea. The whole dress was like origami, with writing in thin silver letters all across the whole piece. Her headdress was a round cap also made of see-through cloth, with small strips of prayers rising up from the rim, each of them calling for peace in trying times, and for words over warriors.

It would have been a scandalous outfit in most arenas of this modern age, but Koyabez only ever wore a small loincloth anyway to show off that he held no weapons. It sort of made sense for Lorizal to wear something similar. At least Lorizal’s outfit was warmer than it looked; Erick had asked her just that, when they had gathered for this and she was shaking a little. That shaking was nerves.

It wasn’t every day one met a demigod angel, who might actually help them end both the Quiet War and Forever War for all time.

Erick looked to Lorizal again; she hadn’t actually said she was ready, and she still looked nervous.

Lorizal breathed deep, then she glanced toward Erick. “I am ready to welcome him to Veird. Let us proceed, Good Wizard Flatt.”

At that, Erick nodded. He spared one more glance toward the three Paladins of Peace which had journeyed with Lorizal to this place of Welcoming Dark. They were all dressed in simple robes, in the more modern style, each of them holding Silver-Star-shaped shields on their backs; round shields with a few small points on the edges. At his glance, they all stood even more at attention.

The girls were far down the way, along with a bunch of other observers who simply had to be here. The girls were close enough to intervene with the Black Gate and what was beyond, if necessary, but everyone hoped the ancient angel would come through without any prodding or war. Avandrasolaro was most certainly a Wizard, but, like Guile, they wouldn’t have that capability there in the Dark.

Probably.

Good.

The stage was set.

Erick stopped delaying.

He spoke, “We seek Avandrasolaro, at the height of his kingly power. Peace demands a new true hero; there’s a Forever War to scour.”

Darkness and black dreams flowed away from a scene beyond the Black Gate, revealing a grand hall, in a cross pattern, filled with light and people.

The ceiling beyond was a kilometer up, vanishing in light and vaulted cathedral architecture, while long white walls, like columns, descended to the white stone floor in the far distance, in every distance. A silver carpet lay down the center of the grand king’s hall, leading toward a staircase that led up a dais set in the back of the hall. People lined the hall, and the carpet, waiting in line to approach the end of the hall, to speak to the man up there who was not a simple man at all. There was a silver throne upon that dais, but it was hard to tell exactly what Erick was looking at, for Avandrasolaro was maybe half a kilometer away, a demigod, and making minuscule all other observations.

The angel was brown-skinned, shirtless, muscular, and wearing the same sort of loincloth that Koyabez sported, but he looked like an actual warrior, and he had clearly-visible weapons ‘upon’ him, or at least near him. Like all angels, Avandrasolaro was soul-attached to weapons that hovered near him. And he had a lot. Erick wasn’t sure what was going on with the man’s throne, but it looked like a simple silver stool; something to sit upon that didn’t block his backside, where all his tools of war hovered all around him.

Weapons in every shape and style were like resting wings, halfway laying down on the dais and halfway hovering in the air all around Avandrasolaro. Spears and swords, maces and daggers, hiltless katana-like tools of war, scythes of various size and shape, all of them silver and sharp as they could be. Even the blunt weapons had edges to them.

A moment passed, and Erick saw the greatest danger was not happening; nothing would be attacking toward the gate, for no one on that side could see the gate, even though there had to be powerful people among that crowd. Because of that—

Erick instantly decided, “We will postpone initial action and wait for some of the people to clear out.”

The Black Gate had only been open for a half minute so far, and the timer above the portal read all 9s. They could wait and not lose anything.

Solomon said, “I think they’re all kings and queens of their own in that line.”

Erick felt the same way. He was already listening to the happenings on the other side.

Far ahead, at the front of the line, just beyond the stairs to the dais, a dwarvish woman with a very large updo continued, her voice filling the hall, “—And so our attempts at persuading the orcs to stick to their pact-agreed lands has failed, and we are facing a horde march this coming Brightening, or sooner. All of this could have been avoided if your Paladins would have done their jobs, and not fallen in love with the orcs they were supposed to defend us from, thus allowing their trespasses of war preparations to go unnoticed for this long. Therefore, we ask for dispensation to force the issue in the favor of your humble subjects; for the orcs to be forcibly relocated, or culled back to manageable size, or for whatever other solution you might have, our King Avandrasolaro.”

She bowed, taking a knee to await her king’s judgment.

Avandrasolaro seemed to consider her words, then he said, “I do not lightly grant paladinship to believers, so while the nature of your statement is likely correct, I feel the facts have been misconstrued.”

“On my very soul, the facts are as factual as I am capable of knowing.”

“Very well.” Avandrasolaro said, “I judge for relocation. If, in the pursuit of this solution, I find out something untoward, then parts of your population will be relocated instead. Now. Are you sure you are not misrepresenting key facts?”

The woman strongly said, “I wish it would not have come to this, but it has. On my soul, I am telling the truth of my lands, as I know them to be true.”

Avandrasolaro said, “Dismissed.”

The dwarven woman stood and walked toward the left, looking relieved, but not weak. One couldn’t look weak in front of other sovereigns, after all. A lesser angel with bindings for clothes and swords floating at her back guided the dwarven woman toward a door, removing her from the proceedings.

And then a tall man who seemed elven stepped to the speaker’s spot before Avandrasolaro’s dais.

Avandrasolaro stared the man down, and said, “State the full breadth of your grievance, Clan Rivermaw, and keep it short.”

The man from Rivermaw began, “In the Winter of two and a half years ago, the demons attacked the crackside lands of Rivermaw. We fought them back, as was our right to defend ourselves, but due to the intervention of Bisection Paladins briefly fighting on the sides of the demons and us killing three of those Paladins, we were censured for a 25% increase in tithe, from 3% to 28%, and you personally took the head of my general and gifted it to the demons. I am here to state, once again, that we did not seek punitive war against the demons in retaliation for their crimes against us, and thus you had no right to censure us as you did.” With well-restrained anger, the man said, “Last time I was here I was unable to provide adequate proof that their whole war was a false flag operation designed to discredit our ability and right to defend ourselves.

“But I have proof now.

“After 2 years and because of the demon’s overreach in their lust for power and land, through mercantile means that most would deem unethical in all ways and which cross the line into unlawful in multiple areas, I can lay out their entire false flag operation, and prove that in their attack, and in our defense of that attack, that what they actually desired was to undermine the entire Rivermaw area, to make us ripe for picking. Which they have done. In 2 more years, if Law and Good does not prevail here and now, we will have to sell our sovereignty back to Bisection control, and the demons will purchase it.”

Erick had thought that perhaps he could ignore what the man had been asking for, that he could make plans with everyone on this side. But he ended up listening to the Rivermaw’s man’s entire spiel. It was a compelling case, for Erick had needed to work out situations just like it. Also, it seemed the Old Demons had passed down their culture of ‘getting people into debt in order to control them’ had deep roots. The incani had kept this culture going to this day, though without Contract Magic it wasn’t nearly as powerful as it could have been.

Erick was glad Contract Magic did not exist; it was one of Rozeta’s best decisions.

Anyway. Erick knew how he would resolve the situation. He wondered if Avandrasolaro would do the same. First would come the full telling of truths, though. This guy would need to actually back up his claims.

Avandrasolaro frowned a little at the elf, then he waved a hand and multiple [Gate]s opened up in a full arc across the speaker’s portion of the audience, each of them looking from this angle like soft, white-gold circles of mist. The entrance to the other sides of those [Gate]s were pointed toward Avandrasolaro, of course. “Attend to me, my lawyers, the prosecution from Rivermaw, and the defense from the demonic lands of Deadfield.”

People appeared, and also those who were not people at all, but demons. Three demons. They were giants among men, both colored and shaped like gore and offal, but wearing suits or dresses; monsters deciding to look like people for a while, for as long as it served their purposes. Tentacles and eyes and wings of flame, or skin, or bone. They appeared completely calm, which was in great contrast to the others who had come out of different portals.

The people from Rivermaw strode forward, each of them carrying suitcases and other tools of the lawyer profession. They looked like they had just woken up, which might have happened. A lot of the people in the line of sovereigns looked half-asleep, as though they had been in the line for a long time. Seeing Avandrasolaro open [Gate]s and call for a trial didn’t even wake them up much. If there were breaks for full trials then it was a surprise that any of them were as upright as they were. Maybe these trials didn’t actually take much time? Erick didn’t know.

A few people in line were actively waking, though, as there was a trial going on now, so maybe this didn’t happen too often.

Avandrasolaro’s wings made of weapons slightly raised from the ground, as the angel himself stared impassively at the arrangement before him. The portals all closed. And then he said, “My lawyers will provide you with one hour to deliberate this concern, to attempt to achieve reconciliation before I get involved. If you forgo this reconciliation, then I will be involved for as long as it takes me to make a decision. Lawyers.”

Erick had ignored the three angels with wings made of daggers who had stepped out of a different portal, but now he focused on them. All three were dressed in simple clothes; bindings for the two women, and loincloths for all three.

The male lawyer clapped his hands—

A bubble enveloped the speaker’s space, completely occluding the proceedings, but Erick and many other sovereigns watched intently. It was a time bubble, for sure, and the people inside were already turning into blurs. They didn’t move back and forth much at all, except for the lawyers, but everyone did all gesticulate and make small movements here and there. That was enough to make viewing them unintelligible, not to mention they were half a kilometer away—

Suddenly, the bubble popped, and everyone was back in their starting places.

The demons seemed less happy than before, though emotions were kinda hard to tell with them.

The people from Rivermaw seemed reserved, and vengeful.

The male lawyer said, “Reconciliation is not possible. The evidence produced by Rivermaw meets basic requirements for a true trial. It is in this court’s opinion that the Deadfield return the property in question to Rivermaw, and return to your borders. It is our opinion to remove the tithe against Rivermaw, and install Paladins of the Bisection to oversee a return to peaceful times. Certain demons must also be brought to justice, but that is outside of the recommendation of this lower court.” He asked the litigants. “Please state for the record that you wish to accept this declaration of reconciliation, or continue to true trial. Rivermaw?”

Rivermaw answered, “We wish for a full trial.”

“Deadfield?”

The demon made of tentacles and eyes, stuffed in a suit, said, “We wish to go to full trial and for these aggressive Rivermaw elves to be put down for the good of us—”

“Enough of that.” Avandrasolaro’s wings lifted up a bit more, almost threateningly. “We go to full trial.”

The male lawyer clapped his hands again—

The bubble of time was much larger this time, enveloping the whole speaker area and the throne—

The bubble collapsed.

All three demons were dead, reduced to smears upon the ground.

The Rivermaw elves were relieved, two of them crying tears of joy.

Avandrasolaro proclaimed, “The demons of Deadfield have massively overstepped the bounds of their individual allotments and the Bisection Pact itself, and worse, they have used deceit and my own Paladins to sow chaos and destruction among the people.” Avandrasolaro opened up ten thousand small portals all around his throne. “I now decree Deadfield to be in Grand Violation.”

And then his wings went outward, through the portals.

Screaming and death followed.

In less than a minute his wings came back layered with blood and guts. A simple flick cast that mess to the ground, though his wings remained slightly red. The mess was not a mess for long. The dead demons from before were already evaporating off of the ground, through some sort of cleaning magic, but when Avandrasolaro scattered so much more blood that cleaning magic really took off. Within moments, his wings of weapons were clean, and so was the floor. Even the demons’ clothes had vanished into the manasphere.

Avandrasolaro proclaimed, “Justice is done. Every demon of Deadfield who surpassed 75% guilt to my eyes is slain. Those below 75% have suffered wounds that they will survive. 15% of Deadfield is now dead.”

Rivermaw’s people looked relieved, but also terrified. Kinda hard to see from this angle.

Avandrasolaro said, “The tithes against Rivermaw are ended. You will have assistance to rebuild, but you have failed to be good neighbors, so you will provide the demons with assistance to rebuild. You will build bridges, not war. Attack the demons who remain and you will be removed from power next. You will be under probation for the next 5 years, as will the demons of Deadfield. Your case is over.”

The elves of Rivermaw bowed.

The lawyers guided the elves away, toward the left.

The next case started. It was about a tax issue, and it was deadly, involving bandits and corruption inside several corporations, but not as deadly as the demon-involved case. Halfway through, Erick turned his attentions back to his people.

“I believe we will have to wait a long time, and from what I am seeing in your eyes, Lorizal, and among your Paladins, you have some discussions to make amongst yourselves, if you really want Avandrasolaro to come back.”

Lorizal was visibly worried. The paladins near her shared those worries.

An angel who could open [Gate]s to the enemies and simply annihilate them like that? Kinda terrifying. Erick could do the same thing, but he never would. Avandrasolaro’s display of power gave him the heebie jeebies. No one should have that much power…

Erick considered something.

Erick said, “He is at the height of his power, in this place. We could look for a lesser version of him. Someone not quite so willing to enact violence like that. But you wanted a real solution to the Quiet War, and this seems like it could be that, and looking for a less-solid version of him might be impossible.”

None of them spoke. All of them were thinking.

Guile dropped from Solomon’s arm, turning into a fox as he said, “Avandrasolaro never changed. His enemies just learned how to kill him, and he stopped growing to prevent that. That is the story of his death, while in his life, he was strong and capable of ruling peacefully, as much as any nation of trillions can.”

Lorizal focused. She asked Guile, “Would he attack incani? Just because of who we are?”

“No,” Guile said, firmly. “I am sure if we watch enough that we will see some demonic group get their side upheld.” He lifted his head toward the lands beyond, while pointing with three of his ten tails. “That woman there is a demon.” He moved his tails three more times, pointing out people, saying, “Demon, demon, demon. They sent their best looking ones to try and curry favor, so you can’t really tell. But they’re demons inside of all of those fleshbags.”

Lorizal frowned a little, then asked, “Deadfield sent the monstrous ones in an attempt at intimidation? They knew their case would fall through?”

“A correct assessment,” Guile said, “And the ones who appear more presentable think they have a good case.”

Lorizal said to Erick, “I would ask for time to sit and study these proceedings.”

“And you shall have it,” Erick said, as he conjured some nice chairs. “Anyone else going to change clothes? Or move on and come back later?”

There was a rearrangement.

– – – –

The rearrangement did not take long.

Lorizal changed into a simple dress and took a chair to the side. Then she conjured binoculars and a hearing horn so she didn’t have to stress her eyes and ears for the next few hours, because this was going to take hours. Her paladins joined her, alongside many of the assorted dignitaries from all over the world. The girls stuck around, but Emily was the only one truly interested in what was going on with Avandrasolaro’s style of governance; Erick, Solomon, and Guile were right there with her. The other girls got out board games.

It wasn’t long till every single person in the delegation was openly debating on what it meant to actually bring Avandrasolaro back to this world. Side debates soon began concerning the nature of the various arguments presented.

Guile and Solomon and Erick all watched the full proceedings from the comforts of chairs set to the right of the portal, so as not to block the view forward. None of them spoke much. All of them were listening to everything happening around them.

The big question got tossed around.

“Where do we actually want Avandrasolaro? What would he want to do? What is our goal in bringing him back?”

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

There had been plans to hook him up with the Church of Peace, and Koyabez, but it increasingly appeared that the world of Veird might be biting off more than it could chew with this particular angel. Avandrasolaro was ‘only a demigod’, and that would probably go away when they brought him back, but every single person in this space, with the exception of Guile, had vastly underestimated what that meant, exactly.

– – – –

Around the thirtieth case, hours after starting, Solomon broke the silence between him, Erick, and Guile, and asked Guile, “What age is he here, do you think? How long since he established the Bisection?”

Guile paused in thought, then began, “The angel was around 35,000 years old when he was assassinated. He established the Bisection in his fourth millennium, and grew his ever expanding bureaucracy to the style he would use for the remainder of his life in about a thousand years post-establishing. What we are seeing here is that legendary bureaucracy in action. He decided the fates of entire worlds from this throne… So… I would say, based on the surety of his deal with Deadfield and that Oceangoers trial and the one with the alvani, number 13… Maybe 20,000? Post Bisection Pact? Somewhere around there.” He added, “Hard to say, though, since the Bisection never left a ‘golden era’; it was constantly expanding peacefully all the way until Avandrasolaro’s assassination. After that event, the whole thing completely collapsed within 500 years, turning into one of the worst Forever War fronts in the entire known Cosmology. The angel was too strong, and too many people were dependent on his strength.”

Erick understood that completely.

Solomon nodded in understanding, too, and then he asked, “Any idea how long these judgment days last?”

“Ohhhh…” Guile hummed a little. “Hard to say. The line is full and as people finish, more people show up all the time… No one in line is speaking… Probably out of reverence or law or politeness. Not sure. A lot of them are tired, though. Seems like they might have been waiting in line for days? We can’t know how long the line is without poking inside and looking behind the Black Gate, either. Unless we can move the gate?” The blonde fox looked at both of them. “Turn it around and see the line of people coming down the hall?”

Erick shook his head, almost answering—

But Solomon was already saying, “Bad idea. I’m rather sure the angel would detect that. Or something. This is our viewpoint, and so this is our viewpoint.”

Beth overheard all that and called out, “I can go inside and ask!”

“Nope!” Erick said, vetoing that option.

Beth chuckled, then went back to her chess game against Jane, who was frowning at her. Both of them knew it had been a bad idea to go into the Black Gate right now, but while Jane was willing to wait, Beth wanted action.

Erick turned back toward Solomon and Guile, and asked the question that no one wanted to answer right now, “So! Is it a bad idea to pull this guy from the Dark?”

Every single person capable of hearing Erick went a little tense. A few people who hadn’t heard him, or hadn’t thought to pay attention to him because they were involved in the drama happening across the way and in their own conversations, all looked at their friends and colleagues. And then they looked toward Erick, and tensed. They probably had mana sense and they checked the past to see what had happened; no one here was a slouch, and Erick wasn’t cleaning out the history of the manasphere at all.

Lorizal had been focused on both arenas. She was thirty meters away from Erick, sitting down with her binoculars and hearing horn, as she called out, “I and the Church of Peace are not giving up on him, Wizard Flatt.” Then she turned to him, and said, “But you are correct in questioning this decision.” She turned back toward the day of judgment, adding, “We were warned that Avandrasolaro was a strong demigod. That he was fair yet brutally swift in his judgments. But perhaps he is too swift, and too violent. We are reformulating our response to him, and our requests to bring him back to life. To that end, we will speak to him when the line gets shorter, however long that might take.”

Beth mumbled, “Three hours and only 30 people down in a line of over 140—”

Abigail added, “—and it keeps getting longer—”

Candice finished, “—which means days of this.”