Ar'Kendrithyst

Chapter 112, 1/2

Chapter 112, 1/2

“Where to next?” Fallopolis asked.

Erick’s answer was automatic. “Wherever there are people that need help.”

“We don’t have all the time in the world. Just another 12 hours. Ten, really.”

“If you don’t want to help, then I can find some people myself.”

Fallopolis smirked. “Go ahead.”

In the crimson lights of the kendrithyst towers, Erick cast a bit of brightness into the illusion-filled sky. A ball of white light took hold overhead, then began cascading light all around. A map formed in front of Erick, showing the entire 140 by 150 kilometer geode of Ar’Kendrithyst as a five meter wide space, where spiny towers poked up, and radio waves barely penetrated through the Upper Layer maze of crystal skyline.

But [Cascade Imaging] still worked, and it worked well, thanks to [Lodestar]’s boosting of all light spells.

It wasn’t long till blue dots started appearing everywhere among the miniature map of the Dead City. There were a lot more ‘people’ inside the Upper Layer than Erick had expected. Fallopolis must have been surprised, too, but not about anyone nearby. She ignored almost all of them, as she walked through the map, to stand at a spot that indicated a place not twenty kilometers from their current position.

Like the Jungle and the Swamp and the Brightwater Expanse, many places in Ar’Kendrithyst were geographically altered from their normal locations in the skyline. The place Fallopolis had walked to was one of these places. Erick recognized the location, but Killzone warned him not to go inside; looking was fine, but to venture inside was death. It was the Armory.

Fallopolis indicated the domed enclosures of the Armory, and said, “That’s a lot more dots in there than there should be.” She grinned wickedly, then spoke in a singsong voice, “Someone is slacking~!”

The map continued to fill in the large depressions of the Jungle, the Swamp, and the Brightwater Expanse with half-solid images of crystal, while it also filled in more of the Upper Layer, and even a bit of the Middle Layer, of the Central Lane, almost 15 kilometers directly below. Erick wasn’t sure how his radio waves were getting through all of that kendrithyst crystal, but [Lodestar] likely had much to do with that phenomenon. Whatever the case, there were no less than a hundred tiny blue dots, mostly in clumps, scattered all over the place below Erick. There were at least 10 in the Armory.

Erick looked to the Armory, and at the blue dots therein, asking, “Thoughts on who to save?”

Fallopolis gestured to the blue dots of the Center Lane, “A few Shades like to wander around and fight whoever they find, but we all have better things to do right now. If those people down below aren’t capable of saving themselves, then they never should have come in here in the first place.” She gestured to the blue dots at the Armory. “This is much more interesting. They almost never make it this far. I have to see what’s going on.” She took a step, and was gone.

After a moment’s hesitation, Erick booked it, triple time, toward the Armory.

- - - -

Erick had heard of the Armory from Killzone. The General had explained it thusly: The Armory was a multi-domed structure in the center of the Dead City, full of traps and artifacts that were collectively owned by the Priests of Melemizargo. If you wanted a weapon that could turn the tide of a war, and if you had more desperation than sense, you tried your hand at the Armory. Most people died. Some people made it out with true treasures, like the Sword Staff.

The Armory was overseen by the Caretaker; a Shade who never purposefully showed themselves. Killzone had been at this job for a few centuries and had only seen the person a handful of times, and each time, they wore a different body.

What Killzone had not explained, was that the place was absolutely gorgeous, in a deadly sort of way.

It was still made of kendrithyst crystal, but there were no towers here, and the reds were maroon and burgundy, while the violets were eggplant and wine; the stone was utterly full of shadows. The Armory was made of domes, as far as the eye could see, and layered upon one another like stacked bubbles. Some larger than others, some smaller. In the edges of the bulbous crystal, Erick saw brilliant red and violet glows, but everywhere else, was darkness.

It reminded Erick of his [Vivid Gloom].

And that was an uncomfortable thought.

From his position on the edge of the kendrithyst-tower part of the city, to the north of the Armory, he saw four main bubble-zones, one in front of him, another much larger one beyond that, and two more to the east and the west. He suspected there was another one he couldn’t see in the south, for it was occluded by the central bubble; the main structure in the center. That central dome was a smooth, uninterrupted, multi-kilometer-wide bubble, surrounded by countless smaller bubble towers, like they were stalagmites of unprecedented size.

The northern bastion of the Armory, directly in front of Erick, was only a simple kilometer-wide bubble, with a few bubble towers here and there. It was a much, much smaller version of the place in the center, but even this northern bastion was still impressive. It had some robust defenses, too.

The northern bastion had been launching missiles at him ever since he stepped out into the open, but the explosions and the damage couldn’t get past his sunform, at all. The kendrithyst towers behind him were also appointed with missile launchers, but they were manned by shadelings. Those shadelings saw and recognized Erick; they abandoned their stations and [Shadow Blend]ed into the stone at their feet.

They didn’t seem to be the fully cognizant version of shadelings, and Erick wasn’t sure how he could tell that, but he was glad that they didn’t try to attack him, in either case. He certainly wouldn’t have killed them, but it would have been weird.

… This whole place was fuckin’ weird.

Oh. The missiles from the northern bastion had stopped, too. So that was nice. They must have recognized him. Or deemed their efforts useless? Either way was fine.

Erick recast [Cascade Imaging].

A white map began to coalesce in front of him. In moments, the Armory was revealed, and blue dots appeared. It looked like they were just beyond the northern bastion area up ahead, somewhere just before the central dome, deep in the structure. Erick gazed across the distance, trying to judge where…

There.

He walked forward—

Shadows shifted on the upper domes of the bastion below, like crawling waves of darkness that uncoiled. Ah. This was their secondary line of defenses, for when the missiles failed. A monster crawled atop the northern bastion. It was a black snake, a thousand meters long, loosely coiled atop the dome like a sleeping guardian. And now it was awake.

The snake glanced up at Erick with bright white eyes. It shook its head, then seemed to sigh. It was hundreds of meters away, so Erick wasn’t particularly worried about most forms of attack, and Super Long Range spells were almost always fully lethal, so he didn’t worry too much about those since he was supposed to be ‘Untouchable’. But then the snake spoke, and its voice carried on the air like it was right beside him.

“If you wish to challenge the Armory, come through the entrance, or be denied. The first denial is non-lethal. The second is half-lethal. Normally, a failed third attempt would mean your death. But for you, any third attempt means we involve the Shades of the Spire, and you will not escape unscathed, Erick Flatt.”

Erick looked down at the ‘snake’. He considered if this was the smart thing to do, and then he decided to just do what he wanted, and he wanted to save those people. He said, “I’m going to try to break into the center dome.”

“All are entitled to one try.”

Erick eyed the snake with a few Ophiel, as he prepared to cast at the main dome. With a thought and a cast, he threw a [Domain of Light] at the center dome, like a spear a hundred meters wide and ten kilometers long. Light manifested, a brilliance upon the heavens that turned shadows to nothing and lit up the world. But the Domain didn’t even get through the outer shell of the center dome. And then the center dome fought back. Darkness clawed up from the land with a million grasping hands, reaching into the light, pulling it down, into the shadows, into the dark. Within moments, Erick’s spear-shaped Domain was reduced to the shaft. Before long, the Domain was disintegrating, as shadows crawled up the entire length; devouring.

Erick frowned.

The snake said, “Melemizargo’s Domain is in power here. But at least you didn’t try to blast your way in. That much is commendable.”

“I don’t suppose you’ll let me have another free attempt?”

“I will not.” The snake said, “You would have better luck going through the entrance, like all the other trial takers. Even Shades go through the front entrance.”

Did he want to do that?

Yes. He did.

Erick said, “Then I guess I’ll do that. And that is… where?”

The kilometer-long black snake flowed down into the crystal, settling itself into the shadows, saying, “I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

Erick watched the snake shuffle all the way back under the dome, like a desert snake hiding under sand. He wasn’t going to be any help, which was fine. Erick looked for other clues.

A skyroad led from the Central Lane into the bubble towers.

… Erick stepped over that way.

To the north, the hundred-meter wide, purple skyroad, vanished into a tangle of kendrithyst towers, far, far away. The haze of distance and darkness occluded more where the road was going, rather than any buildings or other city planning. To the south, to the Armory, the purple road turned dark, almost black, as bubbled kendrithyst began to pile onto the avenue here and there, like great stalagmites. Further than that, the architectural oddity became a masterpiece of carved darkness, arcing over the road hundreds and hundreds of meters large in size, scope, and presence, formed of hundreds of sculpted people, twice the size they normally were. They were all nude, and made of black crystal, but Erick would have been lying to himself if he called it anything other than darkly beautiful. Legs intertwined with arms, reaching over thighs, as chins were gently lifted up to the sky by kind neighbors, so that all might see what lay above.

It was a white orb, shaped like an eye. People reached for it, some managed to caress the orb, but most were beyond its salvation. For those at the bottom, there were swords and fire and hurt, with some carved people having carved wounds upon their bodies, but above, there was peace and tranquility and purpose. Dark eyes were full of hope all throughout the sculpture, but those near the central white orb had eyes of white as well.

Erick stood in awe for a moment, taking in the sight of the sculpture. His own brightness of [Lodestar] and [Greater Lightwalk] and all his Ophiel, brought light to the sculpture, eliciting bright reflections of the dark surfaces, highlighting the enormity of the artwork that spread out to cover the entire forward view.

It was quiet, here, in this dark place. The only sounds were the sounds of the wind, flowing down the road from north to south, pushing at Erick’s back, and whistling into the hands of the frozen hopeful of the gate to the Armory.

Beyond this gate laid unnatural shadows, holding in the air, blocking further sight.

Erick stepped down onto the air just above the black road. His [Lodestar] pressed against the crystal underfoot, and penetrated just a little; maybe a centimeter, maybe less, carving a splash of purple a meter wide in an otherwise black land. Tiny fingers poked up around the light, pressing inward, but failing to get far.

… He stepped up, just enough to not touch the darkness.

And then, thinking that he needed to do this sooner rather than later, he cast a 15,000 mana [Personal Ward]. White light cracked all around him, then solidified, then vanished, as he had gotten quite good at making his daily ritual invisible. 15,000 mana meant 50,000 points of defense. It was a large upgrade from his previous [Personal Ward]. All that mana would come back in 12 minutes, but he needn’t wait to begin his advance.

He stepped forward, in the air, never touching the road, the air around him alight with glows, as Ophiels trailed behind—

A man stepped out of the shadows ahead, onto the road. He had white eyes, dark layered armor that covered everything except his face, and massive horns. He was a massive man, himself; almost like a miniature orcol. Oh. He was an orcol. The horns were a part of his armor—

He took the helmet off, removing the white glow of his eyes, as well as the horns, revealing dark eyes and dark hair. It had been a mask? To make him appear as a Shade? What? That made no sense at all. Erick was very confused. Here was this man, who had appeared as a Shade to Erick, but who was not?

… No. The simpler solution was that Shades could hide the white of their eyes when they wanted to. Erick hadn’t heard of that happening before, but it should have been possible.

The man spoke like a friend, saying, “Hey, Erick! Nice to meet you. I’m Quilatalap.” He sucked in air across his sharp teeth, saying, “Sorry! I can’t let you in right now. If you’re worried about the people in there right now, you shouldn’t be. They came in here knowing exactly what they were getting into.”

… So he was a Shade, who was simply hiding his white eyes. Was this the Caretaker?

Erick decided to proceed like he was.

“Nice to meet you, too, Quilatalap,” Erick said, “But pardon me if I don’t believe you about… any of that. I thought I knew most of the Shades, but I cannot recall your name.”

The man smiled, saying, “I’m not a Shade.”

That was unexpected. Was it a lie?

“Are you in need of rescue, then?”

“Oh no no. But thanks for the offer! All the good people offer to rescue me, and you live up to your reputation.” He said, “I’m not a Shade, and the Armory is not mine, but I’ve been the caretaker for a long time.” Quilatalap gestured behind him, saying, “You wanna try the course? I can set it to easy difficulty. It means you won’t be able to take any of the currently displayed artifacts at the end, but you can still see them. I already let Fallopolis inside. She also took the easy route, just so you know. She wanted to see the people who made it so far.”

He said, “I’ve heard of the Caretaker. I thought you were a Shade.”

“I sometimes go by that name, but not usually.” Quilatalap, the Caretaker, said, “But I’ve never been a Shade.”

How could a non-Shade work with the Shades? How could one of them be ‘named’ like a Shade, too? Was this truly the ‘Caretaker’? What the fuck.

Erick felt a spike of anger. “If you’re not a Shade, how can you work with them?”

“By refusing to work with them, of course. It’s all about neutrality, for me,” Quilatalap said, definitively. “I don’t take sides. I never get involved in disputes or problems. Everyone is treated equally. All I do is guard the Armory and ensure that only the skilled and the correct get the artifacts they need to help them with their problems.”

Erick looked past the man, to where the yawning gates of the northern bastion waited, and darkness held within, like a trap ready to spring shut and devour all it touched. For that’s what it was; a trapped area, set up for adventurers to test their skill against, and die in the process. Erick said, “This Armory? Where you kill people who step inside?”

Quilatalap said, “It’s a protected space, Erick. Would you expect having an easy time robbing the Grand Bank in Eidolon? No! Of course not. I’m fully within my rights as a defensive sentry to dissuade anyone who comes inside these walls, but besides that, no one dies on the easy route. Most people go away when they can’t even get past the first bastion.” He added, “You don’t need to save anyone here; they’re all in there on their own volition.”

Erick frowned a little. “If they come here for items to solve problems in the outside world, then they’re not here of their own volition.”

“That is a good point.” Quilatalap happily said, “We don’t get many who are directly forced to come here by the will of others, but those people who are in those situations generally go through the thresher and come out better for it, usually gifted items that will help them overthrow whatever powers forced them to risk this land.” He said, “It’s all very above board— Ah. You wouldn’t know, but I’ve got presentations on all of this year’s successes and failures and the various outcomes of all of the trials. All of that will happen at the Feast. Those presentations will take place on the third day, or maybe the fourth.” He thumbed back to the yawning black building behind him, saying, “I understand you detected some people inside, so that’s why you’re here. But you can’t save them. This is their journey; not yours. And they've almost succeeded. Just a few more kilometers to go and they’ll get what they came for.”

Erick considered what he wanted to do, here. Saving these people would be saving them from their own choices, and that was fine and okay, but it was the height of arrogance to think that he could save everyone, and especially in this location, where his own Domain was already negated by another.

… He really wanted to learn more about Domains, now. They seemed like a special form of magic that didn’t follow normal rules. But that could come later. There were other people to save besides ones that were undertaking a trial they expected to take.

Erick asked, “Know any people who need saving?”

“You, for one.” Quilatalap said, “Pick your battles, Erick. You’ve been lucky so far, but if Dorofiend was at the top of his game, or if you had been slower about that decisive Domain and Lightning Aura, you would have died. He was a lot less crazy back when we had hundreds of Shades living in the city, and he was the overlord for a good thirty of them.” He added, “Aside from that, if you get to the Palace District early, Queen might be a good ally for at least the next ten days.”

“… I’ll take that under advisement.” Erick looked beyond the orcol, to the darkness. He looked away.

“You don’t want to come in, then? There’s always the easy course.”

“I don’t think I do.” Erick thumbed backward, toward the north, where the Central Lane of Ar’Kendrithyst lay, and hundreds of people were either camping out or fighting for their lives in the middle layer. Erick wasn’t sure of either possibility, right now, but this dilemma was a simple matter of numbers, and a hundred people outweighed ten. “I’m going to check out those people.”

Quilatalap said, “Good luck!” before vanishing into the darkness behind him.

- - - -

Erick stood in front of a trio of dudes who had tried to attack him with ice and fire and failed to penetrate the surface of his sunform. Theirs wasn’t an unexpected reaction. Erick had stepped down out of the red light above, and given them more than ample room to see his entrance, but they were wrapped in invisible magics and they didn’t respond to Erick’s entrance until he poked their covers. And then they attacked him. He weathered the spells just fine, of course. They stopped when they couldn’t break the dome around him, no matter what they tried.

One of them even tried a [Dispel]. That dark magic simply rolled across against Erick’s tiny Domain like water off a window. They stopped their attacks after that. The one that [Dispel]ed must have used all his mana; he slumped a little after that cast.

“Uh….” mumbled the first guy; a bog standard human adventurer in leathers and wearing swords. “Sorry. Can we go now?”

The one who overcast his [Dispel], mumbled, “Who the fuck ever heard of a Light Shade. Shit.”

“I’m not a Light Shade.” Erick said, “I’m Erick Flatt, from Spur.”

The three humans suddenly stood straighter. The dispeller looked to Ophiel, then paused, then smacked his head.

“Why are you here?” asked a guy who could be the brother to the first. He added. “Uh. Archmage Flatt, sir.”

“What I want to know,” Erick asked, “Is why are you three here? Weren’t you warned about Shadow’s Feast?”

The dispeller said, “The Shades leave their places empty while the Feast is going on, so we can hunt without worry.”

“Everyone knows that,” said Guy.

“Yeah. Everyone know that,” said Other Guy.

“We’re here to kill monsters,” said Dispeller. “Shit. And now I have to use a potion.”

… Erick covertly [Duplicate]d some canteens of water inside the [Prismatic Ward] he was carrying around. Six was enough, for three people, for now. Fallopolis had said it would act as a minor mana potion, after all.

Erick floated the canteens from out of sight, and toward the men, saying, “It’s no mana potion, but it should help a little with your regeneration.”

All three of them snatched a canteen. The dispeller cast a [Cleanse] over the three of them, then when no thick air spilled from the container, he eagerly drank it down. The other two instantly drank theirs, too.

That was not the behavior of people who were ‘okay’.

Erick asked, “Are you guys okay?”

“Yeah.” “Yes.” “Perfectly fine.”

“… If you’re not, then you can go to the bend in the North River, where the river widens out to a few kilometers wide. I killed Dorofiend and saved some others who have taken refuge up there. It’s still dangerous, but you wouldn’t be in Ar’Kendrithyst if you weren’t able to handle some danger.”

The three men looked to each other.

The lead man said, “Thank you, Archmage Flatt. The shadows despoiled our water supply, but we might take you up on that offer.”

Erick nodded, then left them, and moved on to the next group.

- - - -

Erick called out to whoever might be listening, well before he got close to his next target.

This continued for a minute, or two.

A yellowscale woman stepped out of the shadows as Erick stepped within a hundred meters of the next group. She was tall and thin, and held a sword to match. She said, “Hello, Archmage Flatt. How can I help you?”

“I sensed there were people here, and I was wondering if you needed help.”

“No.” She said, “But if you sensed us, this is enough for us to know that we need to make ourselves less visible. Thank you for your time.”

“Did you get stuck in here for Shadow’s Feast, or did you choose to be in here?” He said, “There’s ten more groups like yours, all around the Central Lane, and I don’t understand it.”

“We did not choose to remain, but it happened, and we are making the most of it. The Lower Reaches are ripe for the picking now that some of the wandering Shades are gone to the Feast, and we are here to pick.”

“You’re sure you’re okay?”

“We have everything we need.” The woman said, “Thank you for your concern.”

“I already directed some others to the bend in the North River, where Dorofiend used to be. That Shade is dead, and his space is full of survivors.”

The yellowscale eyed Erick. Her voice took on a hopeful, dangerous tone. “Did you kill him?”

“… Yes.”

“Can I see the box?”

Erick produced the box.

The yellowscale blinked out a single tear, as she read the box. “I’m going to keep this, if you don’t mind.”

“Go ahead.”

The yellowscale nodded, then said, “I may visit the bend in the river. But we are fine. Thank you for your concern, sir.”

- - - -

He checked three more groups of people, and found them all perfectly happy camping out in deathtraps, setting watches against the darkness and the monsters, and employing strong spells to negate most detection magics. Or at least that’s what they told him. His presence started a few small fights amongst the casters that Erick was not privy to, but he caught some of their words before they switched to [Telepathy]. They were angry at their mages that their anti-detection magics failed.

He directed a few groups to the bend in the North River, and he even checked on that place with [Scry]. They were doing fine. They had just killed a giant centipede and were butchering the half of it that laid on the shore. Ravenous fish were devouring the parts of the monster that had fallen into the deeper waters.

These people didn’t need his help.

Obviously.

The only thing he had managed to accomplish in his quick runs around the Central Lane, was learning how to [Greater Lightwalk] much faster. One step covered ten meters, and though he wasn’t using the pseudo-[Teleport] option of the spell, the effects of his fast walking mirrored blipping, but were decidedly not a blip. Erick knew this because it cost the normal amount of mana to simply maintain the spell and to ‘walk’ ten meters as it did to ‘walk’ one meter. Blipping cost considerably more than that, depending on distance; anywhere from 25 mana, to 250 mana, actually. For not the first time, Erick felt that there was so much more depth to the Elemental Body spells than what was taught in Arcanaeum, or known by the general public.

Literacy was widespread on Veird, but knowledge was not.

Was that because of the Headmaster? Or for some other reason?

Erick put those thoughts away. Those thoughts were too deep, too difficult to deal with when there was danger all around.

… But he was safe as could be in his sunform, actually.

So he took those thoughts right back out.

The problems with education were that there were too many problems. Too many monsters. Too many dangers. Was the Headmaster just putting out fires, all the time? Or was he purposefully keeping the world in the dark, both figuratively, and literally? All nations and people in power had to keep hold of that power in various ways, or else their personal worlds would fall apart, either through inaction, or through outside forces trying to take the power of people like the Headmaster for themselves.

What would it be like to be immortal, and always scrambling to keep up with forces outside of your control? Young people were always scrambling to make their marks on the world, and that fact was as true back on Earth, as it was on Veird. But on Veird, there were immortal beings that controlled certain parts of the world. They never got to rest if they wanted to keep that power.

For dragons, and for the Headmaster in particular, this way-of-things must be especially bad, considering that everyone knows he’s a dragon, and other dragons probably go after him all the time. That curse of theirs keeps them at each others’ throats. Never able to relax, and never able to let go, or else they fall to outsiders.

And those were the good guys.

The bad guys, the Shades and the Ancients, they could do whatever they wanted, if all they wanted to do was cause harm. Causing harm was always easier than building something.

Erick almost laughed, as a thought occurred: In the Script, it was always easier to harm than it was to protect. His newly-named ‘sunform’ was an oddity in that it was rather good defense. But even then, that defense only came from his tiny Domain, where his intent was in charge, and all others were censored.

There had to be more to a ‘Domain’ than that. Erick’s [Domain of Light] was considerably different from his [Domain of the Withering Slime]. What did they have in common, though? Almost nothing, except they were both named as Domains.

Domain of Light, instant, super long range, 5000 mana

Harken unto the Truth of Light. Let no authority diminish your brilliance.

Undispellable. Uncorruptible.

Lasts 1 hour. Effects last longer.

Domain of the Withering Slime, instant, super long range, aura, 2 MP per second

Provide an anchor for the Withering Slime to exist on your world.

Particle Mage Only.

[Domain of Light] was based around the idea of the supremacy of Light, and Erick’s light in particular. [Domain of Light] boosted all of his Light based effects, and, discounting the Shades, it probably was truly ‘undispellable’ in all normal circumstances. [Domain of the Withering Slime], though…

Ah. Erick was just providing the anchor for another being to exist? Was the difference that simple? Did Withering Slimes exist somewhere else? They existed in the mana, for sure, since mana was possibility. When he cast [Domain of the Withering Slime] for the first time, it caused the sky to open, and for another force to come into being…

Erick had never truly considered that he had created a being, in that moment. But maybe he had? Or maybe, he had created the idea of a being, and imbued that idea into the manaphere. Erick thought for a moment, and decided that the second was more likely.

A new arrival shocked Erick out of his meandering thoughts. He had been standing beside his map, in the Upper Reaches of the Center Lane, thinking, and staring at blue dots. But then a shadow to the east resolved into a strong-looking human girl. She wore well-cared leathers and carried a bare, white-metal sword at her hip. This time, she had a small bag on her back. She waved, as she walked through the sky, toward Erick, her steps flashing darkness.

“Hello, Erick!”

“Hello, Librarian,” Erick asked, “What brings you here?”

The Librarian stepped closer, saying, “It occurs to me that I never gave you anything for the belt and the necklace, and I said I would.” She gestured toward the map, saying, “And then I find you here when I was on my way out to the Feast, so I decided to get this obligation out of the way sooner rather than later.”

“… you said that?” Erick thought for a moment, and then he remembered. “Oh. Yeah. You did say that. But no worries. Don’t worry about it.”

“Nonsense!” She cheerily said, “Do you have a book or a topic that you’re interested in? I am the Librarian, after all. I got copies of every book in the entire world, and more besides.”

Erick thought for a second, before asking, “Do you think the prevalence of immortality leads to problems with growth and change and advancement, on Veird?”

The Librarian looked askance for a moment, then paused, then relaxed, and said, “Immortality is not just a societal problem of mediocrity on Veird, but everywhere immortality has ever existed. But by that same token, immortality is a blessing that provides a good foundation for society to take place. The mediocre stability of immortal power is still power that is countable, and solid.”

“That’s mortal-based immortality, though, right?” Erick asked, “What about godly immortality?”

“Divine beings are not immune to this failing. Gods never innovate, because that is not their purpose. It could be argued that the entire purpose of gods is to provide stability. From certain angles, though, they might look like innovators, but all you see in those moments of godly innovation is the introduction of the stability of another part of the god that you’ve never seen before.” The Librarian said, “But by that same token, when a god works through a specific mortal, that mortal can achieve great things, and divine beings never tire; they’ve got mortal-immortals beat, in that regard. Gods never lose focus or determination when it comes to their Domains.” She added, “If you want to talk more philosophy, I’m all for it, but that still doesn’t relieve me of my obligation to grant you some sort of book or something else that is within my power to grant.”

Erick wasn’t sure he wanted to accept knowledge from a Shade; even one as nice-seeming as the Librarian. So he said, “I’ll take your advice on which books to research regarding Domains.”

“I have books with knowledge of that subject, but from your phrasing, I take it you don’t want my books?”

“Correct.”

The Librarian nodded, “Sure… But I’m still gonna get one of them for you, since I know you won’t be able to find it outside Kendrithyst.” She stepped away, and was gone.

Ahhh… Damn. Erick didn’t want her propaganda, but he had asked her his questions, and she had answered, so this was his fault, really. He could just stash whatever book she gave him in some protected location and never read it, like he had done with Undine’s book.

The Librarian popped back into the air, holding a small, white book. She held it up, saying, “This is ‘Defined Barriers’; one of the only definitive works on Domains, both godly, and in magic, penned over 1200 years ago.” She was five meters away, but she walked closer, saying, “It’s a copy.” She stopped a meter away, outside of Erick’s pulled-in sunform, holding out the book as she said, “Here you go.”

Erick took the book with a light tendril, saying, “Thanks.”

“It’s not cursed, or anything. Not even magical.” The Librarian said, “You could try an [Identify] if you don’t believe me.”

… Erick tried both a [Detect Magic], and an [Identify]. An Ophiel cast [Detect Magic], and found nothing, while Erick cast the [Identify], since that spell worked off of what the user knew, and Ophiel didn’t technically know much at all. A blue box appeared, as it usually did in the case of [Identify].

A book on Domain Magic.

Erick said, “Okay. So. That checks out, I guess.”

“You should [Duplicate] it anyway, and then hand me the one I handed you.” The Librarian said, “I do that to all my books to ensure that nothing magical enters my Library.”

… That was a good idea, too. Erick did so, then handed her back the one she handed him, saying, “Thanks for the tip.”

The Librarian smiled, adding, “There are some other works you can search for on your own. ‘On the Nature of Defensive Magic’ is a heavily theoretical treatise on the subject of Domains and many other defensive structures, while ‘Offensive Warding’ deals with the offensive aspects of such magic, and how to take down an enemy’s various protected spaces.”

“Thanks. I’ll have to find those, then.”

“Are you going to the Feast, now?” The Librarian looked south, saying, “It’s going to begin in eight hours.”

Erick looked to his map, and dismissed the glowing white structure. Crimson light returned to fill the sky, coloring Erick and the Librarian in reds. He said, “Yeah. I guess I am.”

“Care for a walk, then?” She smiled, awaiting Erick’s answer.

“Sure—”

Another Shade appeared, not a hundred meters away. Fallopolis.

Fallopolis called out, “He’s my date, not yours, you hussy!”

The Librarian frowned, then looked to Erick, saying, “Good luck with that.” She gazed at Fallopolis, saying, “You’re very unkind, you know.”

“And you wear the persona of whoever you read!” Fallopolis walked toward Erick, regarding the Librarian with an unkind visage as she said, “So step off, sociopath.”

The Librarian huffed, then said, “Fine.” She glanced to Erick. “See you at the Feast.” And then she stepped forward, three times, moving a hundred meters with each step. Soon, she was out of sight.

Fallopolis watched her go, saying, “Good riddance.” She turned to Erick. “Watch out for that one. She’s a crazy woman without her own moral center; she picks up ideology whenever she feels like it and discards those morals on a whim. Thankfully, that new ‘Legacy of Bone’ book came out, or else she’d still be on that ‘Murderer’s Row’ series, and that was not a pretty time.”

Erick changed the subject. “What happened in the Armory?”

Fallopolis waved a dismissive hand, saying, “Those kids got it. They won’t last out the full Shadow’s Feast without killing one another, though. We’ll probably see them blow up at each other at the Feast when Quilatalap shows off this year’s attempts, triumphs, and aftermaths. They’re a part of the show.”

With a sudden chill rolling through his body, Erick asked, “What artifacts they get? For what reason?”

Fallopolis suddenly stood tall, and smiled. She slowly turned to Erick. She said, “Ohhhh. I… I shouldn’t…” She forced her smile away, and said, “Okay. I’ll tell you this much: It has to do with the Converter Angel that the Greensoil Republic released upon the Wasteland.”

“… Shit.”

“Yup!” Fallopolis cackled just a little bit, saying, “Everyone’s gonna want to know your thoughts on the matter, since you’ve already been contracted to help kill that angel!” She giggled, adding, “And that’s all I can say on that.”

“Tell me more, please.”

“No! I can’t! Can’t be done. Won’t be done.”

“… Fine. Then tell me: who is Quilatalap?”

“Oh? Him?” Fallopolis smiled. “Why? You think he’s handsome? I could set you two up if you want. He is rather pretty.”

“That is beside the question.”

“Eh! He’s nothing special. Just the Caretaker of the Armory.”

So he was the Caretaker! … But that just raised more questions.

“Why is he not a Shade? How does that work?”

Fallopolis scrunched her face at Erick, asking, “You never seen a lich before?”

“Probably not?” Erick said, “I’ve heard that word before, but… No. No idea what that is.”

Fallopolis almost spoke, but then she paused. She frowned. She said, “Okay. So. I want to play a trick here, but I already promised not to fuck you over. So. I’ll tell you what a lich is and I won’t lie.” She began walking south, saying, “Let’s walk and talk.”

Erick eyed the Shade, as he began following at her side. It wasn’t long till the dark domes of the Armory appeared in all their glory, but Fallopolis took a detour to the west, staying to the edge of the kendrithyst towers, while a horizon full of black domes filled the left view. There were no missiles from the Armory this time.

Fallopolis, for her part, seemed to be trying to decide what to say. Erick did notice a tendril of thought coming off of her head, though, so maybe she was talking to someone else at the moment.

He asked, “Are you talking to someone else at the moment, or just letting me see that tendril of thought?”

“I’m considering how to go about this, and asking the man what he wants me to reveal.” She lifted her hand to the air above her head and waved through the thought tendril, saying, “And yes, you are seeing this because I am letting you.”

“… Okay.”

After a while, the tendril broke, and Fallopolis spoke, “You ready to hear?”

“Sure!”

“You’ve heard of necromancers, but a lich is not a simple necromancer. Liches are archmages, first and foremost, who have decided to forgo the usual path of life and death and who have stepped outside of fate, becoming undead in total control of their own body and soul. All liches are archmages, but Quilatalap is an archlich, and also one of the best soulweavers you will ever meet. He is much stronger than almost every Shade you will ever meet.”

Erick almost stumbled. “Oh?”

“He can take you apart and put you back together and you would never know what happened.” Fallopolis said, “So when he says that he will harm you, he means it. But as the Caretaker, he is duty-bound by certain rules that he has willingly accepted. In the course of his duty, he usually warns people away from the Armory. But he also oversees the trials therein. Those who fall in his trials, fall hard, and either try again and die for real, or give up. They might die a few times in the process, but Quilatalap has had a lot of practice healing souls and bodies and casting [Resurrection], so a resurrected person falling to cannibalism or melancholy is exceedingly rare for him, and usually not a result of anything he did.”

That was a lot to take in. Erick had no idea Quilatalap was that kind of person.

Erick felt like Killzone should have known all of what Fallopolis had just said.

For a brief moment, everything was too big, and the sky was too bright and dark all at the same time. Erick had stood before that sort of person? Holy shit. And then, Erick had another thought. He had been standing before people like that ever since he stepped into Ar’Kendrithyst. He was not cut out for this sort of thing. No way. No how. What the shit. Why were people like this allowed to exist?

Erick’s skin-tight sunform vibrated. Fallopolis stepped away; quick as a snap. Shadows crawled over her skin; dark and bright at the same time.

Erick pulled himself inward, far enough that he was flesh and bone again. He breathed. He sat down on the light under his feet. With a thought, he grabbed a copied vanilla cupcake, and just sat there for a minute, eating.

Fallopolis retreated to her own fleshy body; reflected red light from the kendrithyst all around appeared on her skin, as she stepped back toward Erick, saying, “You’re not yet acclimated to this, are you?”

“No one should be acclimated to this level of horror.”

“Incorrect.” Fallopolis said, “You just need to learn soul magic so that you can identify and protect yourself from literally the most powerful, most varied magic there has ever existed, both before the Sundering, and under the Script.” She added, “That’s why Quilatalap is the Caretaker, you know. He could kill any Shade if he wanted.”

“I’ve been neglecting certain magics; yes.”

“It’s hard to find a good teacher, anyway.” Fallopolis smirked, as she offered, “I could set you up with Quilatalap.”

Erick breathed. He blinked, and then he stood up. Wrapping his [Lodestar] into his conjured armor, he tried to relax a little. He was ‘Untouchable’, after all, right? Eh. He couldn’t trust that. Not really. But what he could do, was try to stay loose and frosty… Did he have those terms right? Jane would know. She’d probably be doing a lot of today’s events rather differently if she were here, instead of him. But she wasn’t here, thank the gods.

Erick replied to Fallopolis’s question, “I can’t commit to something like that.”

“Fair enough.” Fallopolis added, “You’d probably have to run his ‘Necromancer Course’, anyway, to prove that you were capable of tutelage.” She asked, “So the Garden is on the way to the Spire. Want to step in for a jaunt and murder Treant? He’s rather ornery these days and I don’t like his lordly attitude. He won’t let anyone into the Garden and it’s just not very nice of him.”

Erick started walking south, saying, “Probably not.”

Fallopolis caught up, quick enough, saying, “Eh. Someone’ll attempt to murder you at the Feast, anyway. I’ll try to give you some warning, then you can murder them right back.”

“… Sounds good.”