248, 1/2

 

Erick watched Solomon walk through the portal of the slime dungeon like his world was falling apart, but he needed to keep it together anyway. Erick felt the same way. He wasn’t sure what exactly had happened here in the clearing in front of the dungeon, for Melemizargo had kept him from interfering as he worked some sort of Wizardry in the area, but based on the shadows in the history of the manasphere… Erick was sure of one thing.

Solomon had experienced a deep expression of Time with his daughter, Debby.

And Debby was Solomon’s daughter, for sure. Debby was Solomon’s, in a way that Debby was not Erick’s at all. Erick wasn’t sure why he felt that way, but he did. As he looked to the other girls, and to Jane in particular, he worried. He thought.

And he realized he wasn’t going crazy, which would be the more rational response right now.

For some reason he wasn’t going crazy with Debby’s death… Or maybe he was numb right now. Maybe. Solomon had seemed to go crazy for a long moment there, as he cursed and begged miracles from the mana, and Debby’s corpse continued to cool, there on her white stone bed. That’s what the initial signs of ‘crazy’ should probably look like; not this numb feeling that Erick was experiencing.

Erick looked at Debby, dead and cold on that white stone bed like she was enjoying a nice dream, and she wasn’t deader than dead. She wasn’t even warm. Solomon had only been worrying over her for an hour, though. She should still be warm, right? Why wasn’t she warm?

She should have been warm. Right?

In a disassociated sort of way, Erick looked to his girls, all of them standing to the side, all of them talking softly with each other— They noticed him. All five of them stepped forward, trying to be the first to say they would take care of the body, but that rapidly stopped when they all saw each other try to do the same thing.

Jane spoke for them all, “We’ll take care of the body.”

Erick wanted to say no. He wanted to tell them that they were all kids, and that he was the adult, so he would take care of this. But that was an incorrect thought. They were adults, too, and they seemed to want to do this; to take this burden upon themselves.

So Erick said, “Okay, Jane. Girls—” He couldn’t leave it at ‘girls’; that would be a loss too great. He named them all. “Abigail, Beth, Candice, Emily. Jane. I love you all. Thank you. I need to check on Solomon.”

And then Erick went to Debby and kneeled by her corpse. His hand hesitated.

She was cold to the touch.

Erick stayed there for a moment.

Eventually, he got up and went to the dungeon.

– – – –

In the kitchen of the replica of his house in Spur, Solomon was trying and failing to explain anything at all to Poi, or to himself. He shouted at the walls. He punched the table. He wrecked papers. Benevolent Lightning fried diagrams on walls, destroying their simple, easy-to-understand records of what had been pulled from the Dark, and what was coming next. Over the last 45 days, the kitchen dining room had been transformed into a base of operations, while the actual dining room had been used for eating. And now Solomon was destroying the records.

Poi tried to understand. Erick tried to understand. They voiced their question and they were met with rage. Their misunderstandings only invited more anger—

“I don’t understand it myself!” Solomon shouted, as he shook his left arm. A broken line of black and silver wrapped around his forearm. It was the remnant of the Bracelet of Memory. “This fucking transfer failed! That atomic woman FAILED. All I have are half-memories and…” He let his anger flow away.

Erick and Poi waited.

Solomon secured himself. He stood strong. With a whip of mana and intent, Solomon restored everything that he had destroyed. Diagrams, papers, all of that returned to their proper positions. And then Solomon looked at Erick, and said, “There is only one thing I truly know, Erick. I know that I am also Erick, but of a different Path than you. I experienced lifetimes when I held Jane’s hand. In all of those lifetimes, I was the One Who Lost Jane. I was the one who died to my own hubris. I was the one that the gods fought and won against because I went crazy with grief. I also know that I am not going to do any of that, because I’m more than the sum of my parts.” Solomon breathed deep. Guile stood at his side, looking up at the man. Solomon said, “I am more than what I was, and I will get Jane back this time.”

“… You understand how worrying that is to me, yes?” Erick asked, being forthright instead of circumspect, moving past his own emotions. Perhaps some tactfulness would have been better, but after Erick said the words, he knew they had been the right words to say. Solomon breathed deep. He settled. Erick said, “I see that you do understand. Do I need to worry about you, Solomon?”

“I understand more than you know… More than I know, too. This anti-meme is getting to all of us… Somehow. I’m not even sure how it works, only that it does. It got Jane— Debby… No. ‘Jane’. She was Jane, you know.” Solomon said, “A lot of different Janes from different… Places. My memory of all that is kinda shot…” His voice trailed away as he looked at the broken black tattoo around his wrist again, saying, “Never gonna get those memories fully back, either. It’s all going to be a mess for the rest of my life.”

Erick thought back to the clearing, in the moments when Debby took Solomon’s hand, and then all of the myriad shadows that came afterward. He thought of Debby dying there, and suddenly it hit him all over again. He had lost a daughter, too, dammit! Why wasn’t he allowed to grieve?

Debby had been there all the time, listening to him talk of magic… and to Solomon talk of magic, too.

… She had gone dungeon delving with Solomon, not with Erick.

She had listened to Erick’s multiversal theories of magic. She had tried her own. And then she had taken off after talking to him in his office about needing to do this… this exploration of mental magic threats. She didn’t confront Solomon about her leaving them. That journey had taken her all across the world, and then she had come back to him—

Except she didn’t come back to Erick at all.

She came back to Solomon.

Was Erick allowed to grieve at all?

Erick wasn’t sure. All he really knew was that he needed to be there for Solomon.

And so, Erick spoke softly through the tears, saying, “The girls are doing something with her body. A burial, or something. Do you want to do something else?”

Solomon tensed. He fought back a rage with the cold hard fact that other people were hurting, too. He was still ‘Erick’, even after his experience with Debby there in that clearing. Or at least he would be for a little while longer. He saw Erick. He saw Poi, standing to the side, looking worried but not saying anything. He glanced down to Guile, standing beside him in a companionable manner. Those two had grown to be good friends in the last few months, which was great to see. And then Solomon looked back to Erick.

“Sorry. Obviously you’re hurting, too…” Solomon went silent. “They can handle Jane’s funeral, if that is what they want to do.” He looked toward the hallway. He stepped that way, saying, “I’m going to bed. Don’t wake me for the funeral. That corpse is not my Jane and I won’t watch her End. I’m gonna find her again, and bring her back.” He was at the door to the hallway, his back turned. He stopped.

Erick waited.

Solomon continued on, not looking back, saying, “I’m going to sleep for a while.”

– – – –

The funeral took several hours to put together and then longer.

A day after Debby died, they held her funeral. It was a quiet affair.

Erick was surprised, and not surprised, to learn that the girls each had all of their death paperwork in order. What they wanted to be said over their dead bodies. Where they wanted all their stuff to go. Each of them set up some paperwork so that if one of them died everyone else got a split share of their wealth. Each one of them had planned for their possible death on this endeavor, this Sundering Search, and they wanted those that remained to have everything they left behind.

Jane read Debby’s speech. It was short. It was written months ago, back when Debby was still freshly created from her dungeon master slime; a fresh repro. Debby had been surprised to learn that she wasn’t Jane, and that made her mad. Her final letter also told of how she desired to do some magical learning this time, and that she was going to learn from their father because she had never done that properly.

“ ‘And if I should die before everyone else, one of you’—” Jane breathed. She grinned, but it was a malformation of emotion, too strained in multiple directions to be a real grin. “ ‘One of you cunts better learn from that man and become a respectable mage. I’m sure if we actually tried to learn magic from someone who knows magic, we might actually learn something’. And that’s where it ends.”

Erick was already drowning in sorrow, but it all hit harder in that moment. Tears flowed freely.

It just didn’t seem real, and yet it was.

They scattered Debby’s ashes across each continent, at the places Debby had said she wanted her ashes spread. Archipelago Nergal, on a nice beach near a Hawaiian-like isle. At Wyrmrest Mountain, near the Firemaws and their endless red flames and lava pools. In the Underworld, near the cavern of tornado obsidian. In the Tribulation mountains in Nelboor. And finally at Ascendant Mountain, on the balconies of their crystal hotel room, overlooking the depths below, where Debby’s ashes could disappear into the crack in the world. Tens of dungeons lurked in those depths, each one of them filled with horror and adventure alike.

The others jokingly complained that now they needed to pick new spots.

At the end of it all, there the family stood, on a crystal cliffside of the hotel room with the sun setting in the west and all the world painted gold. Tears flowed, halting and yet free.

Jane wiped her face, sniffled, then said, “Well this cements that I want a wake at my funeral. No tears. Only drinking.”

“Oh for sure,” Candice said, “This was way too fucking depressing.”

Abigail said, “She went out a hero.”

Jane sighed, saying, “A great big fucking hero.”

Beth said, “A great hero.”

“Who took our paladinhood from the rest of us,” said Candice, half-jokingly, half-very-seriously.

Emily broke down sobbing, saying, “I love you all.”

And that started the full group hug, with everyone crying. Erick had five surviving daughters. He loved them all as if all of them had been with him his entire adult life.

Ophiel swooped down from the sky to hug all of them as much as he could, and each girl hugged the Ophiels. Yggdrasil had only watched until that moment, his big [Scry] eye made smaller for the occasion, but now he sent a small mental question, wordless and yet full of need, and Erick nodded. In a flashing second Yggdrasil’s current [Avatar] form of a big orcol male in a formal black suit stepped out of a portal, already crying. He joined all the rest of the family on the crystal cliffside, and his hugs were a welcome addition to the group.

“Holy fuck this is exhausting,” Candice eventually said. “I need sleep now. Wow.”

Erick chuckled at that. “Funerals are exhausting…” Softer, “Especially big ones.”

Yggdrasil asked, “Why didn’t Solomon come?”

Erick had no good reasoning to give, so he said, “Because he didn’t want to see it finalized. He’s going to…” Erick said to all of them, “Don’t treat him gently, for that would make him angry. But do be there for him. He’s having a harder time about this than… Than any of us. I think he went through a good thousand hours of talking and trying to talk to Debby, there in that clearing. Constant retries of… of I’m not sure. All I know is that I tried a [Return] to get back to before Debby appeared and all that happened, but it didn’t work. I zeroed out my mana, even with the Script helping me. That means… Well. You know what that means. You all have my numbers.”

It meant Erick could go back in time around 18 minutes without needing to do Wizardry, which should have been more than enough time to get back to before Debby descended. Erick wasn’t going to say that out loud, for that was an operational security risk. Other nations had surely put together that particular bit of information, but there was no need to go spreading that information wide, especially in a non-secured area.

At the concerned comprehension of the girls and Yggdrasil, and even Ophiel, Erick nodded.

Emily asked, “What does that mean, dad?”

Erick said, “Aside from the unknown memetic threats and responses and whatever happened there. I think what happened there was the same reason that Paradox Wizards can’t get to the dawn of Veird’s existence here in this New Cosmology. You all heard that story about the Time Wizard who they tried to use to fix the world post-Sundering?” Concerned looks shifted to comprehension, and Erick added, “Yeah; whatever happened in that clearing is similar. Time Magics were used too much in that area and so that time became both indelible, and impossible to traverse. There’s no rescuing Debby from the fate that happened in that clearing.”

Erick’s children all nodded or frowned or thought, as they considered his words—

“I’m done for now.” Candice said, “I love you all. I have to sleep.” She came up to Erick and hugged him again, and then she broke off and went into the hotel, headed straight to her bed.

The others had similar, but softer ideas. They simply split off, giving Erick one more hug before leaving him behind. Soon, it was down to just Yggdrasil, Emily, and Erick. Ophiel remained, but he did not have much input on what came next; he was still struggling with what had happened in front of them all. When it was just Erick and Ophiel, Erick expected the little guy to ask something of him, to try and understand what this funeral was, and why it made everyone sad. But for right now, Emily stared at Yggdrasil, and Yggdrasil stared back, both of them unwilling to speak.

Erick broke the stalemate, “Who wants to go first with their big news? Or do you want a coinflip and we go that way?”

Emily faltered—

Yggdrasil blurted, “I want another Fishery like the one you gave to the Freelands. That’s it. Simple! Sorry. I didn’t expect it to be a big deal. I didn’t know how to say it, either, or even if it could be done… That’s all. It’s completely inappropriate for this…” He trailed off, looking self-defeated.

“We’ll look for one, Yggdrasil; absolute—”

“Okay I have to—” Emily began, but failed to finish, because she transformed into a man, her purple coloring of her nails and hair transforming into something brighter, more magenta than purple, which had been Emily’s original way to mark her as different from the others. He was remarkably handsome, with broad shoulders and just a bit taller than Erick, while his coloring was obviously demi. He had a concerned look on his face as he said, “I’m Evan.” Evan threw up his hands, saying, “That’s all! … Uh.” He demurred, “… Yeah.”

Erick smiled and took his son in for a hug, holding him tight. Evan was frigid for a moment, and then Erick said, “I’m glad you have decided to live your best life. Love you, Evan.”

Evan thawed in great big sobs as he hugged back.

Yggdrasil tried to back away—

Erick grabbed Yggdrasil with a free hand and pulled him into the hug. His huge arms went around both of them and Evan chuckled. Ophiel wasn’t sure what was happening, but he joined in, too.

And since Erick had his two boys with him —and one eventual boy when Ophiel materialized— he decided it was time for a Talk. “Now you both know to use protection when you have sex with girls, right? There’s this nice little plant that grows in Nelboor that deadens the little swimmers for a day—”

Yggdrasil muttered, “I know not to—”

Evan laughed loud.

And Jane came back out to the group, for it wasn’t like ‘the guys’ were being quiet at all.

Jane said, “Okay fine. We go for a wake. We can just do that. It doesn’t have to be planned. Debby would have wanted it.”

Candice rose out of her bed like a zombie, muttering about how she was ready for a party, too, and then Beth and Abigail followed.

Evan told Erick, “I’m still into dudes, dad; my ‘swimmers’ don’t matter.”

Erick laughed as he nodded. “That’s one way to ensure no accidental pregnancies.”

Jane clapped her hands, drawing attention, as she said, “Who wants to go get Solomon back out here for the wake? And also where are we going?”

Everyone froze.

Erick said, “He’s not going to…” Erick stopped. “You know what? I will still ask him, and then try dragging. If he doesn’t give in to that or if he zaps me then he can stay behind.”

– – – –

Guile said, “See that! They are coming back to you.”

Solomon wiped away a tear, as he shut the [Viewing Screen]. He was sitting on the edge of his bed in the dungeon house. Guile was on his own cat bed at the side of the room, in the sun, or at least in the light that passed for the sun down here. Solomon sniffled, then said “They didn’t have to. I’m not going.”

“… Are you positive you didn’t want to go?”

“I’m not going,” Solomon said. To go would be to acknowledge that Jane was dead. “Same reason I didn’t go to the funeral.”

Guile looked like he was going to choose his next words carefully, and Solomon suddenly hated him for that, and for all the ills in his many different lives. That sudden hatred was completely irrational, for Guile never fucked up his life before, but Solomon still hated him anyway.

Guile picked up on some of that sudden hate, so he paused. And then he reconfigured his thoughts and plainly stated, “Right now you are in a state of disharmony. I didn’t catch much of what happened in that clearing, but I caught some, and you were split across ten thousand lifetimes and blasted with the memories of ten thousand horrors.” He pointed two golden tails toward Solomon’s wrist, where the black Bracelet was a broken tattoo on his skin and soul. “That is broken, but it is mendable. But like all horrors in life, running from the truth only empowers them more. You, my servant Solomon, need to have a clean meeting with this reality that Jane is dead, and that Jane has always been dead—”

Solomon crackled with lightning. White sparks clattered across his bed, leaving black holes in the fabric and setting a small fire to the headboard. For some reason that loss of control pissed him off more than anything else… And at that thought, at the ridiculous idea something could actually be worse than what had happened yesterday, Solomon sobbed again.

Guile waited.

Solomon sighed, breathed, and looked at his wrist. “How do I repair it?”

“There is no perfect repair possible. But you can mend it. You can make it functional despite the complete lack of animating soul within that working. To do that, you need to clean it up some. Like when repairing a broken vase, one must first gather the pieces and then glue them all back together, making up for what was lost in the breaking in one way or another. Glue of some sort is a popular choice.

“Luckily, you already know what the main purpose of this broken artifact is; to Remember. Everything about it is based on that. Also luckily, this artifact is already a part of your own soul.

“All of that makes what comes next easier.

“You have a broken soul, Solomon. It was not broken before the Bracelet touched you, but in the touching of that Bracelet, you have gained perspective that most never gain. And so, like the missing parts of the bracelet, you are missing parts of yourself. Repairing a soul that has seen multiple realities is not easy, for in most cases all extra lives lived usually result in a clouding of purpose.

“But your repair is easy, because your purpose has clarified, instead of clouded over.

“Most of the healing will simply take time. Souls repair on their own. Therefore there is a very good chance that the Bracelet and its power will come to you in time. But this is doubtful. And so, you must actively repair it, and to do that, you need a unified vision for what comes next, because you are not a single vase anymore.

“Mending a broken vase is easy enough, but you have become ten thousand broken vases.

“So you must find a focal point to build around. A Truth.” Like a fox knowing more than he should, Guile said, “And with the death of the hero Jane, you have found most of your Truth. Now you just need to put that to ordered words. And not today, either. Don’t even think about your Truth right now. Take a week of mourning. Of slower repair. And come back to this problem later.

“But first, you must acknowledge that the vase has been broken. Otherwise how will you ever see the pieces you are missing?”

Solomon sighed, then tried to countermand Guile’s logic. “Souls are not vases.”

Guile leveled a soft glare at Solomon, saying, “Stop being pedantic with the ancient fox that has done more to help people find their own Paths in life than you will ever be capable of knowing. And go to your daughter’s wake. You missed the funeral, and that will already haunt you for all the rest of your existence.”

Solomon felt his stomach drop as the truth of Guile’s words hit him squarely in the chest. He whispered, “I should have gone.”

“Yes you should have, but you chose not to. It was a bad choice. Those happen. Now make a better choice.”

Solomon’s stomach dropped again. “… I always make the bad choices, don’t I. I’m the Erick that makes the bad choices.”

Guile hopped off of his bed and up onto Solomon’s. He sat next to him, saying, “Then aren’t we both glad I’m here to help you make better ones.”

Solomon sighed. He thought. And then he stood.

Guile nodded, and then he transformed into a golden bracer that was already upon Solomon’s right forearm.

Solomon walked out of his bedroom and went to the foyer where Poi and Erick both stood, waiting for him. Solomon said to Poi, “Sorry about yelling at you.”

Poi shook his head. “Nothing to be sorry about.”

A certain weight fell from Solomon’s shoulders, and then he looked to Erick, and said, “Okay. So a wake. Did… Did anyone plan it?”

“We’ll play it by ear.” Erick transformed into a male demi with pale purple skin and tiny horns, adding, “We’re all going out as a family to this place they all love in Songli. This is the general form.”

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Solomon nodded, and then he transformed, too. “Yeah. This works.”

Ophiel turned into a bright magenta bird, perfectly shaped and tweeting in tiny thunder sounds.

Solomon blinked. Was this really—

“Clan Phoenix, yes,” Erick said, smiling. “Patriarch Xue is gonna have some enforcers making sure we have a good night and aren’t bothered. It’s time to get wasted.”

Solomon smiled a little. “And spicy food, right?”

Erick nodded. “I am sure I will be shitting fire tomorrow.”

“It’s what she would have wanted.”

– – – –