Ar'Kendrithyst

Chapter 125, 1/2



Chapter 125, 1/2

Chapter 125, 1/2

The day dawned, and Erick ignored it, until he heard Jane and Teressa walk into the apartment. At that point he jumped out of bed, feeling mostly great, to greet his daughter and his guard before they could wander off to bed or otherwise.

“Good morning!” Erick said, happily, as he walked into the living room, trying to ignore the sudden stitch in his side as he moved.

Jane grumbled, “Too bubbly.”

She looked like she had fought a keg of booze and barely won. She was still hunting out there in the woods with Teressa by the time Erick had tucked himself into bed, which was much later than Erick liked to go to bed. So she couldn't have gotten too drunk.

Teressa just looked haggard. But she was an orcol, so her ‘haggard’ was anyone else’s ‘well rested’.

“Good night, sir?” Teressa asked, hopefully.

“Go ahead and get to bed. Both of you.” Erick turned to Teressa, as the woman’s eyes turned soft and thankful, adding, “I’m staying in today. I’ve got no plans for anything but some light reading, and some work with Ophiel. There probably won’t be a need to guard me, unless the building explodes or something.”

“Ugh! Dad.” Jane was temporarily reinvigorated, as she demanded, “Why do you tempt fate saying shit like that?”

Teressa had already ignored the conversation and headed right to her room. As Jane grumbled something about flags and room service and not being able to sleep at the moment because someone decided to push their luck, Teressa was already out of sight. Three seconds later, Erick heard the thump of a very tired orcol hitting a very large bed. Erick began the quick process to order breakfast, and half an hour later, Jane could barely hold her eyes open as she slowly chewed her omelette. She probably should have gone to bed, too, instead of forcing herself to stay awake.

Kiri, however, had gotten a good night’s sleep, so when she joined the group, it was with a happy, “Good morning, everyone!”

Erick smiled as Kiri sat down at the table. “Do you have any plans for the day?”

“Not really,” Kiri said, as she helped herself to the pancakes. “Do you need something from me?”

“Probably, yes.” Erick said, “I talked to O’kabil last night, after you already went to bed, and the Arbors might be asking me to help extinguish the Moon Reachers, among other monsters. Some plants, too, I imagine.”

Jane perked up. “What?”

Kiri paused, her knife full of butter for her waiting pancakes. She unfroze, then asked, “Is that feasible? Like, actually possible? Logistically?”

“What she said,” Jane added, barely more awake than she had been.

Poi just ate his toast in silence, going from normal breakfast eating to narrowed eyes. He only had a few tendrils of thought around his head at the moment, but at Erick’s proclamation, he gained a few more.

“It’s theoretically possible. Aside from killing them all, which will be a very dangerous task for most people, the main problem is finding the monsters, and I can do that. I found a good dozen Moon Reachers on the outskirts of Treehome last night.” Erick declared, “I can do a lot more than I have been doing, so now that the main threat of the Shades is gone, or at least squashed for now, it’s time to be a bit more proactive than usual. If the people here want it, of course. O’kabil is likely speaking with the other Arbors and the Chieftains, or however it is they do it, talking about this very thing that I am now discussing with you.” He added, “I offered tracking services for other monsters, too. All of the plague species, if you want a term for them. It’s a broad category.”

For a good ten seconds, no one said anything.

Kiri poured syrup on her pancakes, as she said, “It’s so weird to casually talk about eradicating a monster species over breakfast… But what’s weirder would be leaving that decision up to a committee.” She frowned, as she said, “I feel like a noble.”

“You can’t just go deciding things for other people, Kiri,” Erick said. “This Forest is their land. I won’t be acting without their permission, or without their direct assistance.”

Kiri’s frown turned into something less, as she said, “Then you’re going to have to talk to the Sovereign Cities, because they border the Forest, too. And don’t forget the Greensoil Republic. That border is massive.”

“I know you’re being sarcastic, but maybe they should be involved.”

“Then you’ll never kill the Moon Reachers, or any of the other dangers out there.” Kiri said, “Because you’ll never get everyone to agree to it, because that is what nobles do. They fuck up good things because they’re not getting their fair share. Watch: Someone, and maybe a lot of someones, will tell you that they won’t allow it, because they’re ‘losing out on grand-rad revenue sources’. They’re going to demand compensation.”

“I’m not paying shit to anyone. So if that happens, then we’ll go forward with…” Erick thought for a moment. “A two-thirds majority.”

Kiri eyed him. “So if two out of three nations say that they want the Moon Reachers to stay, that they do not want you killing these plague species, you would allow the voices of the people in charge, because they were born to those positions, to overrule the lives of people who live near the Forest, who brave the Forest every single day?”

“Yes.”

Kiri gave a sudden, flat stare at Erick. “Really? That does not seem like you.”

“Of course I’ll abide by the decisions of the people who live with the Forest, Kiri. Besides that, do you really think that the people in charge here would want to see the monsters live, when they have the opportunity to End them?” Erick said, “I have a little more faith in people than that.”

Kiri relaxed. “Oh. Yeah. You would.” She added, “But people make bad decisions all the time.”

“Exactly.” Erick said, “It may be I who is making a bad decision in offering this opportunity. When I brought this up with O’kabil, she told me that Moon Reachers are a predator species that kills other monsters all the time. Maybe, from a pure numbers perspective, the correct decision is to let them live.”

“Or,” Kiri countered, “The correct decision is to End them, as you put it, and to also End thirty other monster species while you’re at it. Bring an entirely different balance to the Forest. One with more animals and less monsters.”

“… That’s a good counterpoint.” Erick asked, “Would you be interested in helping with something like that? It would take months, at least, and another operator on my own level would go a long way to that cleaning effort.” He glanced to Sunny, sitting on Kiri’s shoulders. “Sunny and you would be invaluable.”

Jane had said nothing, all this time. Poi remained silent, too. The two of them had just been shifting their gaze from Erick to Kiri while they spoke.

Kiri said, “Of course I would be interested in that. If it happens at all. But just like those nobles, I’m not going to do it for free. Working is a lot more honorable than sitting back and watching money grow itself, after all.” With a bit more strength in her voice, she stated, “And you shouldn’t do this for free, either, Erick. People won’t appreciate what you could give them unless you charge for it, and it’s going to have to be a lot. This is a major undertaking. It might even be harder than eradicating the mimics from the Crystal Forest.”

“All the rads and grand-rads from every monster killed.” Erick said, “If there’s to be a fee, then that’s what I already decided on.” He added, “But I’d really rather do this for free. Or maybe, in the case of Treehome, a house in the city somewhere? I heard you can’t live here unless you’re married into a tribe, but I’m sure I can get around that requirement.” He smirked. “Or maybe I can start my own tribe. Yggdrasil will eventually get more than 2 possible bodies. Maybe I’ll plant one of him on the outskirts of town. The Arbors have already said that they were interested in helping me raise him right, and it’d be a lot easier to do that if he’s in the neighborhood.”

Kiri’s eyebrow ridges were slightly scrunched together, likely in thought, but she said nothing as she ate her pancakes. Breakfast turned silent. Erick almost continued to talk of plans, but he saw that everyone at the table was deep in thought. So he let his words hang there, while they ate.

Eventually, after her third pancake, Kiri asked, “Wasn’t there supposed to be an envoy from Baroness Xelxex to Candlepoint, today?”

Erick waved off the concern, saying, “Mephistopheles is walking around town with that envoy right now. Nothing happening there that I need to be concerned with.”

Jane, a little more awake than she had been, asked, “What’s your goal for helping Candlepoint, dad?”

“For them to be self sufficient, and for me to never need to directly help them out unless there’s a monster attack, or something.” He added, “Why?”

Jane paused, seeming to debate with herself if she wanted to say something. And then she said, “Because I think that Melemizargo is using you to legitimize himself, and you’re willingly going along with his plan.”

There was a lot to unpack there, and while everyone looked to him, Erick considered where he wanted to start. He started at the beginning, saying, “Yes. This is what is happening. I see this. But so what? I’m fine with helping a definitely-dangerous god work toward legitimacy. Someone has to, and I’m just a lowly mortal. The actual people who decide Melemizargo’s presence in the world are other gods, and they’re not so easily fooled. Or at least I hope they aren’t.” Before anyone else could say anything, Erick added, “Besides! I’m not going to ask for people to put Dark Temples up anywhere, or any of that nonsense. All I care about is that he’s not actively hurting people, and that he’s trying to heal old hurts. If people think that he is working through me, I will set them straight. I’m not giving that guy any credit for anything that I do. But if people silently think what they want to think, then there’s nothing I can do about that, and I hope that actions speak louder than rumors.” He added, “And I’ll never repeat any of that for anyone else, ever. I hope that this is the first and only time you ask me that, Jane. It’s a dangerous question.”

Jane looked down at the remnants of her uneaten omelette. Kiri ate her pancakes in silence.

Poi said, “I have been informed by the Mind Mages that we are very interested in your assistance in erasing several mental threats from the surface of Veird.”

Everyone looked to Poi.

Erick laughed. “Okay! Sure.”

Poi said, “The Moon Reachers are one of them.”

“… Ah. Okay?” Erick asked, “How do the Mind Mages work with others? Uh. That’s not my first question. My first question is when do we start? Where do we start? How will this work?”

Poi said, “Now there is a fourth interested party when it comes to clearing Glaquin of Moon Reachers. But there are also Puppet Minds and Masters. Spinal Spiders. Putrescent Slugs. And Book Slippers. These four mental monsters are four that do not need to exist. They cause nothing but pain. Glaquin can be a test case for eradication of these ‘pest species’.”

“I assume I would need to scan cities. But not a lot of cities liked that when I did it after the Hunter attack on Spur...”

Poi nodded, saying, “Yes. This would need to be a long term goal. A worldwide effort in the end, but a continent-wide effort in the beginning. If we managed to cull all of the stated threats inside the Crystal Forest, that would do much to get the rest of the world in line with a culling effort, and those cities already know and have worked with you before. It would be the work of a week to get this first part settled, and with your permission, I will be able to tell my people to start talks with the cities of the Crystal Forest.”

“Yes!” Erick enthusiastically said, “Yes! Sure. Go ahead and start some talks on my behalf.”

Poi nodded, as a few tendrils of thought erupted into the misty manasphere around his head. He continued, “As for going forward, past the Crystal Forest, we would likely need to travel to places like Greendale, the capital of the Greensoil Republic, and work with them on something in order to prove your ability. We’d certainly have to do a tour of several kingdoms in the Wasteland Kingdoms to do the same.” He looked to Jane, saying, “We would need to use the title of nobility you claimed in your Unicorn Hunt, over in the Sovereign Cities, to get a seat at that table.” He continued, “Treehome is already debating the merits of eradicating the Moon Reachers, so that might turn out well; we seem to think so.”

Erick practically beamed, as he said, “That’s wonderful!” He added, “And yes. We can do all of that, I think. Ah? Have they heard anything about the Converter Angel?”

“… No. The angel has gone to ground, or something. Your images of what to see inside of a person if they are infected have gotten around, along with more images handed out by the Wasteland Kingdoms. It seems that they did not like being shown up by you.”

Erick smirked a little at that. “That sounds like the best outcome, so far.”

Jane nodded. Kiri went, ‘yup.’

Poi said, “But if you really want to really flex your mana in a place beholden to none, we could try to clean up Quintlan.”

Kiri barked a laugh, then giggled.

Jane’s eyes went wide. “Now that place is dangerous.”

“Hmm?” Erick asked, “What? We could do it… Maybe. Aside from it likely taking a lot longer than I care to do work on a thankless task, what’s wrong with that idea?”

“Do oozes even show up on [Cascade Imaging]?” Jane said, “I’m not sure oozes have DNA. I’m absolutely sure that slimes barely have DNA; it’s more like a magical signature.”

Erick asked, “Where could I find an ooze to test?” He looked to his daughter, adding, “Besides your [Polymorph] form…” He had a thought. “Because I can’t get DNA from a flaming ooze without it burning up, I think? Which leads me to believe that it would be similarly hard to do the same for other oozes. They have no DNA, do they.”

Jane shook her head. “That’s only part of the problem, and easily testable, anyway. Sorry. It’s… really late for me. The main problem is that the mechanisms that created the oozes in the first place are still there. The old dungeons and old ruins of Quintlan are the bedrock of that entire continent. There’s literally no way to clear all of those up, unless you’re capable of leveling mountains… Which I guess is possible. Ah. But even if you do, the Rock Oozes just make more dungeons.” She added, “Sorry. Tired. I forgot about those. The Rock Oozes make more dungeons all the time.”

“Oh?” Erick asked.

Kiri said, “A lot of monsters make natural dungeons when they dig out homes under the ground. We’re still waiting for the inevitable Ballooning Spider Horde dungeons to start spewing monsters back onto the surface around Spur, any day now. They’ll probably be half a [Teleport] away and no real threat because of the Crystal Mimics, but those holes are out there, for sure. Anything could spawn in those dark tunnels.”

“Ah,” Erick said, a tad sullen. “I forgot about all the natural dungeon makers.”

Poi said, “We might not be able to eradicate every monster on Veird’s surface, but we can do a whole lot of good, if you’re willing. Half a house is good enough when it’s raining, sir.”

Erick thought about that, then said, “Syllea said that we archmages shouldn’t try to solve the monster problems of the world. What do you all think of that?”

“Rubbish!” Kiri instantly said, and likely louder than she meant to say. As the other two turned to her, she continued, “You have power. Therefore, there is a responsibility to use it correctly. That’s what you once said to me, wasn’t it? With great power, comes great responsibility. By your own words, you have a responsibility to save others who cannot, will not, or who are too ignorant to save themselves.”

“Yes. I said that. Which is why we’re having this discussion. There is great, fantastic, all together apocalyptic power, right in this room. You might not be an archmage yet, Kiri, but you’ll get there soon enough. With Sunny on your shoulder, you’re already well above all the other mid-tier mages of the world. Hopefully when you are an archmage, you’ll talk everything out before you decide to change the world.”

Admonished, Kiri said, “Well. Yeah…”

Jane said, “I think archmages should solve the problems of the world, with fire and light and surgical strikes. Have you considered linking your [Cascade Imaging] to your [Luminous Beam]? In a matter of moments, you could create the single most useful death-spell in the world, and eradicate every single Moon Reacher for a thousand kilometers, all at once.”

Kiri looked down. Poi looked away.

Erick said nothing for a long moment, and then he said, “I have thought of that spell, Jane. I have the rhyme, the intent, the power, all ready to go. But I won’t ever pull that trigger. A spell like that should not exist.”

With a quiet voice, Kiri said, “I agree with Erick. That spell shouldn’t exist. There is a limit, Jane. That spell would cross a horrible limit.”

“But!” Jane said, “According to all the spells I’ve seen out there, it could work. Why not make this magic? So what if it’s horrible? It’s efficient. It’s fast. It clears out a problem that everyone but stupid nobility would agree is a problem. So why not?”

“… I could do it,” Erick reluctantly said. “But a spell like that should not be allowed in the Open Script, or locked behind a Class, or whatever other qualifications you want to put on it, no matter how rare and hard to get.”

Jane said, “Give it over to Phagar. Seems like a very ‘Ending’ spell, and Phagar is your sponsor god, right?”

“Sponsor is not the right word.” Erick said, “And I don’t want to have to make that sort of spell, anyway.” He added, “There are a handful of spells that should not exist. I have thought of them. I have almost made them, in my moments of desperation. I am not going to make any of them. And besides that, circling back to Kiri’s words about people valuing this endeavor: If others aren’t involved, then they won’t see the value in what is done for them. I won’t ‘clean up’ this world for the people that live here. That’s just… That’s not who I am.” Trying to keep a mounting horror out of his voice, Erick said, “And aside from all that: I’m not going to put a target on my back by making some spell that could individually kill all the people in a thousand kilometers. Gods! That’s… That’s unconscionable.”

“I agree.” Jane said, “But if I were you, then I’d make the spell anyway, use it to clean up this world, then give it to a god I trusted for safe keeping.”

“You would?” Erick asked, not sure he liked where this was going.

“Yes. The power to, in the space of an afternoon, erase Moon Reachers, or Puppet Minds, or any of the other monsters from the face of the world? Yes. Absolutely. Do it, and never look back. And when people complain, [Teleport Other] them away.” Jane said, “There is a responsibility to use it, and then to lock it up behind all the gates you can find to ensure that it is never used again, but the power itself should exist.” She added, “Besides! If you don’t make it and then lock it away, someone else could make it!”

Erick shook his head. “The power to wipe out any vast part of the world should not exist.” He added, “I don’t even like that the Script allows for more than [Telekinesis] and [Cleanse]. If there were less power in the world, then the Shades would never have been a problem. I’m not going to contribute even more to the problem than I already have.”

Jane sat back in her chair, saying, “This is something that’s been bugging me for a long while, and I think I’ve found some of the problem. You know all my troubles with making magic? Well. I have a theory. I’m a lot more violent than you, dad. By a vast quantity.”

Erick did not like her talking about herself like that. He instantly said, “You’re not violent, Jane. You’re just driven, and this world requires violence. Don’t get the two confused.”

Jane smiled, then lost her smile. “I know what I am, dad. Just as I know that you’re a pacifist, I know that I am violent. I think this is why you’re better at magic than I am. The mana is alive, I’m certain, and it wants certain things, like to grow and expand, and… And I think I am very tired and not making much sense. Anyway. You’re good at magic because you believe in the good of magic. I just see it as a tool to carve a bloody path through my problems. I don’t think the mana likes that.”

Erick didn’t know what to say to that.

There was one secret he was keeping from everyone in his life, except for Poi, because the man was a Mind Mage and knew everything. Erick had never told anyone, including Jane, that he was a Wizard…

Except the Shades all knew, didn’t they. Ah. Shit. Did they tell anyone?

But Jane didn’t know, and it felt awful not to tell her. It felt horrible to hear that Jane thought that things were difficult for her because she was ‘violent’. Things were just easy for Erick because he was lucky… And maybe there was something to Jane’s theory, but...

Erick ignored all those thoughts, and said, “Maybe. I don’t know, Jane.”

Kiri instantly latched onto the idea, saying, “Erick’s methodology is vastly different from normal arcanaeum training, but everyone who goes to arcanaeum goes there in order to learn how to kill monsters or about various other topics. Only a very few graduates ever become archmages, but that number is much higher than the number of people out in ‘the wild’ who become archmages, like Erick.”

“How would you even know that, Kiri?” Jane asked, “Where’s your knowledge base coming from?”

“… I admit, that I might not know a lot about a lot, but I do know a little about a lot, and one of those things is the number of people who manage to become archmages every year…” Kiri added, “Or rather, I know the number of people who the Arcanaeum Consortium verify as Archmages every year. It’s a matter of public record.”

“Is it?” Erick asked, right as Jane said, “Really?”

Kiri said, “It’s widely believed that not everyone who gets accredited chooses to make themselves public, though. With regard to the idea that magic loves pacifists, I would have to look at arcanaeum records for centuries before I would ever go so far as to say that your idea, Jane, has merit, but it is testable.” She whispered, “And isn’t that interesting.”

Erick frowned at that, and asked, “How many archmages are there in the world, according to this publication? How many live on the surface?”

Kiri scrunched her face, and said, “Something like 400, total? Maybe? Only a handful of those in the Underworld, though. It’s believed that Melemizargo doesn’t like them being down there.”

Erick said, “I was told by a priestess of Melemizargo, named Priestess, that there were 47 currently living archmages in the world, with only 18 of them, including me, living on the surface.”

“That’s weird.” Kiri asked, “Why would she lie? Shades don’t usually lie… Wait. I’m remembering Priestess now. She lies all the time to people in order to get them to join the Cult of the Dark Dragon.”

Jane said, “I don’t think she was lying. Maybe they have a different definition of ‘archmage’.”

Erick said, “That might be possible. She said there were only 47 archmages on Veird, and she compared them directly to the number of Shades, saying that they outnumbered the archmages by a fair bit.”

“Huh.” Kiri said, “She was comparing you as a Shade, then. Or at least of that power level.”

Erick said, “Which is another odd thing! They talked of destroying the world, but if there were truly over 60 mages with a skillset similar to my own, then they could have done whatever they wanted to whoever they wanted.” He added, “But I guess they already did that.”

Poi said, “You are vastly more powerful than most Shades, Erick. I don’t think you understand this.”

Jane nodded, saying, “Yup. Which I think is because you won’t kill or harm unless you absolutely have to, and the Mana likes that.” With eyes widening, she added, “But the Shades were manual casters! And as manual casters, they make their magic individually, all the time! … But they’re as violent as I am… so they shouldn’t be that good at magic… Okay. I see a flaw in my thought process.”

Kiri stifled a laugh.

“Anyway!” Erick continued, undaunted, “It is important to have self-imposed limits. I won’t go forward with this monster extermination without approval from others, and I certainly won’t ever make a magic that can automatically exterminate a two-thousand kilometer diameter of Veird’s surface!” He shivered. He added, “Never repeat that thought, ever, anywhere. Please.”

Kiri said, “Of course, Eri—”

Jane slapped a hand against the table, triumphant. “That’s it! You have limits!” She said, “Each Shade had limits, too. Maybe a hard limit means the Mana likes… them…? I think I lost my train.”

Erick looked to his daughter. He tried to keep the frown off of his face and the hurt out of his voice, he asked, “You don’t have limits? Jane?”

“I mean…” Jane fumbled, “I have limits. But I wouldn’t hesitate to press a button and kill every single monster in the world. I guess the Mana doesn’t like that much viciousness in their heroes.”

Erick sent, ‘Did something happen after the Hunt? Or during?’

Jane stood up from the table, saying, “I’m being entirely too melodramatic. Time for sleep. If the building blows up while I’m asleep I’m blaming you for planting that flag, dad.” She sent, ‘I had a good Hunt. I’m just tired.’ She walked off, toward her room.

“Good night— Er. Morning.” Erick said, “Sleep well.”

Kiri watched Jane go for a second, then turned back, and finished off the last of her cold breakfast. Erick had already finished his while it was hot. Cleaning up was as easy as leaving the [Cleanse]d plates and utensils on the food cart, and leaving that cart outside the door.

After the heavy conversation at the breakfast table, Erick settled down onto the lounge with a rather dry, but heady book from his library, for he needed some perspective that was not his own. It was titled ‘On the nature of Magic and Ethics’, and it was dense. It was a thick book composed of selected texts from many of Veird’s historically-known philosophers, but whom Erick had never heard of before. The book was not reader-friendly. Occasionally, when he just couldn’t follow the looping arguments anymore, he shifted his sight to Candlepoint, and to other spaces where Ophiel flew, unimpeded. On his third glance toward Candlepoint he saw Justine, who had moved into the city just last night. She walked alongside the envoy from the Baroness, and also alongside Mephistopheles, as they strode along the boardwalk next to the water. They spoke of trade and products.

Justine looked alright, even if the eyes she occasionally made at Mephistopheles weren’t the kindest. Mephistopheles gave her those same eyes right back, though none of them did any of that when the envoy could see them.

Erick turned his gaze to his house, back in Spur. Justine’s room was empty, except for a note.

Dear Archmage Erick Flatt,

Thank you for everything you have given me. From the words of encouragement, to the opportunity to dip my fingers back into alchemy, to the clothes and the allowance, to the room, to the home, thank you.

I hope to be able to repay all that you have given me, some day, and I hope to continue to work with you in helping the people of Candlepoint live out in the open, with lives of their own, with their own dreams to guide them.

Please remove my [Prismatic Ward] permissions.

With all my gratitude,

Justine Erholme

Erick smiled, and then lost his smile. With a heavy heart, and a twitch of thought, he disallowed Justine from entering any of the [Prismatic Ward]s he had, anywhere in the world. The moment passed without fanfare or demarcation.

He returned to his book.

- - - -

In a forest of twelve trees, where a million small messages passed between roots each day, and all minds were in a sense, as one, a voice grumbled, and rose above the susurrus.

Wyrmrest spoke, “An Idea has been presented. Small deliberations are complete. We will now begin the large discussion, and come to an accord within one standard week, or sooner.”

The susurrus went quiet. Other voices rose into that silence.

“Which monsters have we decided upon?” asked Ikabobbi. “I wish to know which ones I will no longer be able to taste.”

“That is strange for you, Ikabobbi.” Home said, “I would have thought you would have been against this idea.”

“I am against it, but the small deliberations have won me over.” He said, “Twice now, a chieftain has died to those Deathsoul Shrooms and deprived me of my Honored Meal. That shrooms would feast upon what was mine by ancient pact is beyond unforgivable.”

“There’s the Ikabobbi I know,” said Home, with maliciousness in her voice. She dropped her anger, and said, “I vote to proceed, though I would prefer to kill all of the monsters listed, I can live with ridding our Forest of the selected two.”

O’kabil said, “There is still the matter of payment for Erick.”

Nosier said, “He has gotten enough from Syllea. If he wishes for more secrets of magic then we can give those to him, but I refuse to actually pay him anything at all! This action against the Forest will cripple many of my enchanters! I will lose money with this plan, and I don’t like it.”

Home said, “Disgraceful.”

“And when the anti-magic runes on your houses fade and the Grand [Prestidigitation] Stoves stop working, then you will come to me begging for grand rads, and I will have none.” Nosier said, “This is what will happen. If anything, he should pay us for hunting on our lands!”

“Enough squabbling over money.” Icebrand said, “My mages and I stand ready to purge the Forest. We are eager to bring about the deepest days of winter to those who have done us the deepest harm. Freeze the Deathsoul Shrooms to splinters. Bury the Moon Reachers in ice. An avalanche upon the Twisted Visions and the—”

“Just the first two, my sweet.” Firebrand said, “We’re not touching the rest of the list. It has been decided.”

“… What!” Icebrand vibrated with chilly anger. “Kill them all!”

“I agree. Kill them all.” Rottundra said, “We should just melt the entire Forest to the ground and burn what remains. Maybe create some reservations out in select areas, full of certain lifeforms that we wish to come back, when we instead demand that Erick regrow the whole thing with his [Exalted Rain]. This is a much better idea, and we should discuss this greater plan more than you all have been willing to discuss.”

Redarrow said, “There are too many artifacts and too much history in the Forest for us to melt it all down. I will not allow such a thing to happen. If we move forward with this plan of yours, know that I will not support such an action, and I doubt the small deliberations will support it, either.” He added, “And besides that, we’d have to get a full tribe accounting before we went on melting, and that would be a disastrous headache if there ever was one.”

Heral-ken said, “We won’t be destroying the whole Forest to just regrow the whole damn thing. There are too many horrific nasties out there, and I will not have them allied against us when they see that we are the only parts of the Forest not burning.”

“There would be no alliances against us, Heral-ken. They are just monsters and dragons.” Rottundra said. “Besides, this is an idea that would take years to complete, and years to back off from if it seems we were upsetting things that should not be upset. And besides that! With the Shades gone, we might actually get to work on turning the Crystal Forest back into a real forest, and unless we want the Crystal Forest to become another Forest forest, then we must seriously consider purging all of the current Forest, before it can look right over the mountains, see a fresh green land, and expand into the fresh green that has been denied to it for almost a thousand years.”

“Freeze it all to bitter shards.” Icebrand said, “I would agree with this plan.”

“I would see the Forest burned, too.” Firebrand said, “But perhaps, only when we have Yggdrasil on our side. A World Tree would do much to quell whatever might boil out from the green after we start applying the heat.”

“There is merit to delaying this plan until we have more of an actual plan,” Leaf-cutter said. “I would like a thirty-year projection of the long term consequences done up by at least a hundred prognosticators of tier 6 quality or higher. We could ask the Geodes for some projections, too. There is no need to be hasty with this. A long term view is exactly what we need to take, if we are to mulch the whole Forest. Which, for the record, I see as a good thing.”

O’kabil said, “I, too, would like to see a long-term prognostication of what would happen if we adopted Rottundra’s alternate plan.”

Steel-Branch said, “Melting and burning the entire Forest, only to regrow it seems like the plot of a play. Adopting such a plan would be asking to get murdered by every Dragon, Twisted Vision, and horde hiding out in the Green.” With a jubilant laugh, he said, “And I love it! Bring it on! We can weather these storms, and we can bury them all in lightning and fire and rot.”

Icebrand said, “And ice!”

Wyrmrest spoke, “I do not like this idea. It is too hasty by far.”

O’kabil offered, “Adjourn, then, while more prognostications and small deliberations are undertaken?”

Rottundra rustled with a small joy, as he said, “I have never before thought that we could change the world. But then all the Shades died to their own god. It truly does seem like anything is possible, doesn’t it?”

“It does!” Nosier asked, “But if we do this, then we do not need Erick for the first part. Leave him to the side, and let us consider the Complete Destruction of the Forest. My mages could use the resources. We should not be paying him for anything else besides regrowing it all.” He added, “Maybe by then some of our own religious types will have gained that [Exalted Rain] through Atunir. I hear she’s giving it out now, too.”

Home perked up. “Really? When did this happen?”

“Yesterday, in her grand church in Fortress Rad-binder, in the Kingdoms.” Not allowing further off-topic discussion, Wyrmrest continued, “I disagree with the idea of cutting Erick out completely, Nosier. We need him to work with us on something, and soon, so that Yggdrasil can see how a proper Arbor acts upon the world, and how we act upon our communities.”

“Well when you put it like that…” Nosier said, “Then yes, we need to work with him on something.”

A small round of agreements passed through the discussion.

Wyrmrest declared, “Then we should vote upon the extinction of the Moon Reachers, and the Deathsoul Shrooms, for this is the plan that has been vetted by the small deliberations, and for this plan we very much need Erick’s magic. We will put aside the Idea of Complete Destruction and Regrowth to a full prognostication effort, to be completed in a satisfactory manner by all involved. What say you all?”

There was more discussion, but more of logistics and clarification than of any real substance.

Soon enough, the Arbors of Treehome came to a decision.

- - - -

Erick was done reading, for now. He did not like the ethics of Veird. Much too violent and much too dense, in his opinion. So for now, he was mostly just waiting for other people, and Arbors, to make decisions about the future of the Forest. He almost went back to reading, but there were things he could be doing besides reading, or magic making, or spying on other people. Or getting high on blueweed, he thought, as he looked at the blunt in his fingers.

He could be making music!

Which is why he had Kiri go out and get a few supplies. Those supplies were now sitting in front of him, taunting him, because he wasn’t exactly sure how, exactly, to record music. Oh! He knew the theory behind it all, with the little grooves in the vinyl that then became sound. But how to turn sound into those little groovy grooves? And that thought brought up another.

Listening to music back when he was a teenager, both by himself and when he was smoking out with his friends in one of his friend’s garage-turned-bedroom. They’d all get together every time they could...

Erick blew out blue smoke, and smiled to himself as old songs came back to him. Janet Jackson. Michael Jackson. Madonna. Whitney Houston. Looking back on it, Erick had to laugh. His entire group of friends was queer and none of them knew till later in life.

Ahhhh. And here came the bad memories. Erick felt a spike of pain, as he recalled one of his friends dying of HIV right after he had Jane. George was his name. He and his boyfriend both died of that disease, or rather, from complications from that disease. This was back at the turn of the millennium, and though HIV treatment was leaping ahead, it wasn’t fast enough, or cheap enough, for some people.

Looking back on that, and with the benefit of so much time and space between him and those events, Erick linked up those facts with his own unwillingness to actually fuck around with anyone on Veird… Or even back on Earth, for that matter. Erick certainly looked at all the pretty people whenever he wanted to look, but when was the last time he actually fucked around with anyone?

… Seven years ago? With that woman he flirted with all the time, over at the county clerk’s office? Marissa? That was her name. Marissa Collins. If she hadn’t moved, maybe something would have come of that. But even then, they had flirted for five years before anything shifted in that relationship, and Marissa had been the one to initiate it. And then she up and moved two months later!

Had it really been seven years since he had… any sort of relationship with anyone? Physical, or otherwise?

… Had time really gotten that far away from him? Shit. It had!

That thing with Al and Mog in the Red Dream did not count. That was a very nice experience, but it did not count.

Erick took the cigarette out of his mouth and extinguished it with a flicker of [Fireshape]. Or at least, he tried to. The end still glowed.

“Oh. Right.” Erick spoke to the air, “O’kabil? Can I get some Shaping permissions, please?”

Erick felt something shift in the air. Some power in the walls turned off. Erick tried a [Fireshape] again. The cigarette stopped burning. He nodded, then spoke, “Thank you. I’m gonna need those permissions for a while, if you could please. I’m gonna try to make some music.”

The misty Domain in the hotel room fully vanished.

“Now. Where to begin with those groovy little grooves?”

Erick faced an incredible uphill battle, and he knew it. Modern recording systems, back on Earth, were made off of wires and electricity and vibrating parts that were all built upon other understandings which were built upon even more understandings that Erick barely understood. He knew the direction he had to take, though.

“I just have to have vibrations and then I need to record those vibrations and then I need to be able to play them back. All without the use of magic in the end result.” Erick put on a happy voice to fool himself into thinking that this would be easy, and said, “Simple.”

[Metalshape] turned some steel into a cone—

“No. Not that way.”

Erick started with the base—

“But how to get the turntable to turn without a motor? That’s a whole level of society that just doesn’t exist yet.” He stopped what he was doing, and said, “I need to figure out how to record the music, first. I can just manually turn the thing, for now.”

He went back to the cone, and considered vibrations.

And then he asked Poi, who was sitting across the room from him, “No one has ever invented non-magic-based recording and playing? Really?”

Poi looked up from his book, and said, “Really.”

Erick returned to his cone, and said, “Then that’s no help— Wait! I got it!”

A flat circle of metal became slightly domed, and a little arm came out of it. More metal wrapped around the outside, but it was then Erick knew he needed to use other materials, too. This type of machine was not possible without rubber, at least. But he had not asked Kiri to gather rubber.

He asked Poi, “Is rubber a thing that exists?”

Poi took several moments to answer, “Not really— I mean. Yes. It does exist. But… No. Not the kind of rubber you want. You’d have to invent that, too. We do have rubber vines, if you want some rubber from those.”

“Rubber trees would be better, wouldn’t it? Why would someone make rubber vines?” Erick said, “With trees, all you do is score the outside and they leak rubber.”

“With the vines, you cut the end, put that end into a bucket, and the entire thing pumps rubber to the bucket.”

“… That works, too.” Erick looked around through the light and found Kiri in her room, upstairs. “Kiri! Can you go get some rubber? Sorry, I should have thought of this beforehand.”

Kiri called out, “I’m on it.”

Erick returned to his recording cone as Kiri flickered to light, vanishing from her room. With that part soon to be settled, he returned to his metal cone, and the ‘cymbal’ with the arm attached to the dome. He stared at the pieces for a moment…

“Oh!” He moved fast as everything suddenly clicked. Metal flowed, as he mumbled, “This part goes here, and this goes here, and then this arm cuts the surface— And I can make a diamond cutting head to cut the steel! And a play-back head will just be of a softer metal than this one! HaHA!”

Over half an hour, Erick molded metal, defined some diamonds, worked with wood for some of the parts he would replace with rubber, and eventually, rolled some rubber into some ribbons and made some O-rings to keep certain things separate from other certain things. Soon, a large, thin-metal, acoustically amplifying cone was connected to the would-be vibrating cymbal, which was surrounded by separating rubber. A small cutting arm arced out of that cymbal, onto a rolling cylinder of glass, because steel was too hard for the diamond to cut (producing grooves which were too small) as the vibrating head vibed back and forth. It was thick glass, anyway; it wouldn’t break that easily. The cone and arm and upper parts barely weighed as much as an apple, which was good, because Erick had to suspend that entire half of the construction on a tension-spring metal arm that held it at exactly the right height above the glass cylinder, which was the bottom half of the construction.

With a happy heart, and with Poi and Kiri watching, Erick turned the crank at the bottom, which both spun the glass, and moved the upper half at a constant rate across that glass. Diamond carved into glass, making an awful screeching sound—

“Ah. Damn.” Erick said, “I thought I fixed that. That’s going to ruin it all… But I can fix that.”

Another half an hour later, Erick had worked out that screeching kink by switching to a glass disk. The problem with the cylinder and the automatic moving of the cutting head across the glass surface, because Erick had created a single swinging point for the cutting head, which arced across the cylinder like how disk record players worked, but for a cylinder, he’d need to figure out some perfectly straight method of moving the cutter, and he didn’t want to do that. Going back to a flat disk removed all of that unnecessary problem. And besides! Disks were easier to reproduce from a mold than cylinders were, and the end goal was mass-produced music.

Time to test it!

Erick put his face into the metal cone, had an Ophiel crank the wheel to the device with a bit of Handy Aura, and listened to the sound of nothing, as the diamond head cut into the glass.

He spoke, “Hello, World. This is Erick Flatt speaking. Test. Test. One, two, three.”

Ophiel stopped as Erick pulled his head back out of the cone. They had only gone through eleven revolutions of the disk, forming almost a dozen lines of spiral on the glass surface. Erick stared at the disk for a moment, wondering. Imagining.

It was the work of three seconds to switch out the cutting head with the play-back head. Kiri watched, enthralled. Poi’s eyebrow ridges were high on his head, as he regarded the scene.

Erick moved the head back into the starting position, and carefully took control of the turning wheel, himself. He spun the disk, and listened. He barely heard his success.

“Hello, World. This is Erick Flatt speaking. Test. Test. One, two, three.”

It was crackly. It was imperfect. It was not what he remembered when he thought of records and music. But it was a start. Erick smiled wide, and reset the player. He turned the crank again, listening to himself again.

Kiri said, “Well that’s certainly something I’ve never seen before. You’re going to put a lot of musicians out of business.”

Erick laughed much, much louder than he ever intended. Kiri frowned for the briefest of moments. Erick almost thought he was going to have to explain it to her.

But then her eyes widened. “OH! They can record music and sell it the world over. Right. You did say that, didn’t you.”

“You got it!” Erick said, “And this is just the prototype. The proof of concept. The thing I made in an afternoon with the wrong materials, and barely any ability! Gods above, magic is wonderful.”

Poi asked, “How good are you going to make it before you show the world?”

“I wanna record something,” Kiri asked, her emerald eyes glittering with hope. “Please?”

Erick stepped away from the machine, saying, “Go for it!” He said to Poi, “As soon as I can get it to work as well as I can, then I’ll showcase it to a few select people.” He added, “[Control Machine] might be just what is needed to make great recordings, or maybe some other specialized spell. And that would be good to control some of the creation of these records. But I want anyone to be able to play them back—”

Kiri had been waiting by the machine, patiently, after replacing the glass disk, but she couldn’t help but glare a little at Erick as he continued to talk. Erick shut up, grinning. She handed him the disk he had recorded on, saying, “This is important. Maybe not right now, but for the future, it’s already a historically important item.” She added, “If this ‘record player’ thing sells well.”

Erick took the disk, and set it aside, saying, “I think it will sell really well. Everyone likes music, right?”

Kiri nodded, but all of her attention was on the recorder. She was just waiting for Erick to stop talking. When he did, she recorded what was possibly the second-ever record on Veird, saying, “Hello! This is Kiri Flamecrash speaking! Test! Test! Three bees with keys and peas, squeeze and sneeze round breezy knees.”

Erick held back his giggle till she was done, then he asked, “What was that?”

Kiri responded, “A nursery rhyme,” as she flipped out the recorder heads and moved the needle back into the start position. She stepped away, saying, “Here goes.”

With a bit of her own [Telekinesis], the recorder began to play back her words, which sounded fine, but the nursery rhyme was more buzzing than anything intelligible. Still, her smile never left her face.

Erick said, “We can make a better one.”

“Of course!” Kiri exclaimed, “But even this much is amazing!” She suddenly stared at Erick. “Do you know how to make a computer? You talked about them once and then you brought that one back from Ar’Kendrithyst…?”

Barely. A record player is an application of simple physics, but a computer is that, and a lot more.” Erick said, “I must have seen several videos on how a computer works, but I couldn’t tell you how any of the parts actually connect together, or anything, really. Besides. Veird needs electricity and—” He paused, as another thought came to him. He asked Poi, “Didn’t those people who showed up informing us of Hocnihai’s death talk about electricity in the Wasteland Kingdoms? And lightbulbs?”

Poi nodded. “They did. They also offered to host you for a while.”

Erick said, “Well then we have to go there!” He added, “But maybe not right yet.”

Kiri asked, “So what was the methodology with this recorder?”

Erick brightened, as he began speaking to his apprentice, saying, “I will start at the beginning. Sound is just vibrations in the air; an oscillating pressure wave of dense and not-dense particles that…”


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