Ar'Kendrithyst

Chapter 128, 1/2

Chapter 128, 1/2

Lines of shadeling orcols stretched down the muddy street, while rain fell all around. They waited for their turns at the paperwork stations, or for the Mind Mage on duty. Poi’s line was the quickest by far, but very few of the 327 remaining shadelings of the commune wanted to go to him. His line was only thirty two deep.

Poi’s line was still gaining members, though, for the main lines had complications.

A little ways away, those main lines sat underneath [Domain of Light]. There were six desks, each manned by four different people. Only one of those people actually engaged with the shadeling standing in front of them. The other three were a mix between backup for any violent situation that might occur, and clerking staff. They occasionally blipped away to come back with more paperwork, before rapidly taking their position back at the side of the person actually conducting the exit interview.

Erick looked upon one of those interviews from far away, checking up on them as was his power, while he kept eyes and ears out in all directions, and watched as more and more shadelings came out of the depths of the commune, to either try their luck at running the blockades all around the broken housing development, or to try their luck at the desks. No one made it through the blockades of light and stone and ice all around the commune, though. Either Erick bumped them back into the commune area himself, taking personal control of his Domain to lock down the shadeling trying to sneak through, or the minor mountains of ice-stone golems did the same, but with much more violence.

Erick watched, as a man approached a desk.

The shadeling stepped into the Light, becoming something more solid and shivering, like every other shadeling before him. Another step took him under the [Weather Ward] cast over the desk and the people in front of him. He wore rags and dripped rainwater, but he wiped his arms and hands off as best he could; they wanted him to sign paperwork, after all.

The woman behind the desk indicated the gently-glowing green truthstone sitting just to the side. It glowed green, as she said, “All of this interaction will be conducted under truthstone. If you disagree, then you won’t be leaving Treehome today and perhaps not even tomorrow. Your ability to leave tomorrow might be greatly diminished if you choose not to continue, for who knows what will happen if you don’t get out of here while you can. Do you wish to continue?” It was a phrase she had said many times already. The stone remained green all throughout.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Very well.” She said, “State your name, date of birth, tribe and Treehome tribe, if applicable, and affiliation, if you have one, and if anyone will vouch for you.”

“Deckari Sideril-Nosier. 1, 5, 1407. Tribe Sideril of Nosier, Adventurer’s Guild. Uh. My team was Rapple Leaf Four. The team goes back about four years. They’re still out there, last I heard. They won’t vouch for me, though.”

The woman listened to Deckari and watched the truthstone out of the corner of her eyes. It had never varied from green. She took a paper from a stack to the side and slid it across the desk to him, then indicated the cup of pens, saying, “Write all that down.”

Deckari did so.

When he was nearing completion, the woman asked, “Why won’t your team vouch for you?”

Deckari finished his end of the paperwork, then prepared himself. He said, “Shadeling Cultist.”

Erick had been about to move on, but instead he watched the interaction a bit closer. The people beside the woman at the desk stood a bit straighter, their eyes focusing a bit more.

The woman kept a calm voice, as she grabbed another form from a different pile. With a small spell, her own pen began to float in the air, hovering over the new sheet of paper, ready to fill out the worksheet on her own. She asked, “And how did that happen?”

The pen moved, waiting for the answer.

Deckari paused. He said, “We did the Candlepoint thing, getting dark chips and all that. We got one New Stat fruit apiece, and then I was the first to get their second New Stat. First was Intelligence. Then came Constitution. That was when I turned shadeling. That led to some… hard conversations. They took me here.” He choked up, briefly, then fought on, saying, “I was in here. I looked to the gods for help, but when I called their names, they didn’t respond and I bled when I continued to call out. But Melemizargo answered me.” He spoke stronger, saying, “And he helped me through this really tough time. More than Aloethag ever—” He winced. Blood dripped from his nose. “It’s more than the Red Woman ever did for me.”

The truthstone stayed green.

The pen had written down most of what Deckari had said, but not exactly as he had said it. Looking over her shoulder, Erick saw that nothing was too off about her account of his account. But the woman had written down in a separate part of the form regarding the weaknesses that Deckari had displayed. ‘Can’t speak about other gods without bleeding’ and ‘Melemizargo targets shadelings for conversion’ were among the notes in that second box.

The woman said, “Since you’re a Cultist, you have extra requirements for leaving Treehome.” Her pen waited as she got out more paperwork. She set that down and moved the pen over it, as she started, “First: Your contacts in the Cult.”

“A lot of them are dead.” Deckari said, “A lot of us are like that.”

The truthstone stayed green. The woman wrote down Deckari’s answer. It was not the first time that someone had given Deckari’s answer, and it wouldn’t be the last.

And his answer was not good enough.

“I still need names.”

“Omaz, though I didn’t know him as Omaz. I knew him as Light. That’s what he went by when he spoke to others in the city, who I also tried to stay away from. I don’t know those people’s names either. There were also a few of the guards on the other side of the wall.” Deckari said, “I tried to stay away from them, too.” He maintained his calm facade, but Erick, and everyone else, could tell he was angry at those nameless, faceless guards.

“Which shadelings in the commune? Which guards?”

“I don’t know their names. Initiate Cultists don’t get to see the faces of their compatriots.”

The truthstone stayed green.

“Typical,” said the woman. “Every fuckin’ time. Look. Give me something, or you ain’t getting out of here today.”

The implication that he would never get out, at all, ever, was left unsaid.

Deckari said, “I did know the guards were from Block 6 and 7. I never knew their names, either, but I knew their faces.”

“Only halfway useless, with a better chance of making us second guess our own people than actually helping. Just like a fucking Cultist.” She asked, “Tell me straight: Did you participate in the day’s battles?”

“I shot some spells at the guards who tried to kill me last week; yes.”

The woman narrowed her eyes. “What spells? Did you kill anyone?”

“[Chain Lightning]. Yes. I killed the guards— the Cultists from Block 6 and 7. The ones I was talking about. You won’t have to worry about watching your back, because I killed them for trying to kill me.”

The woman’s pen stilled. Erick stilled, too. The truthstone flickered pink.

The man rapidly added, “I mean. I don’t know if you have to worry about watching your back. I only knew about the ones who tried to get me.” Somewhat repeating himself, he said, “I killed the Cultist guards who were planning on harming me. The ones from block 6 and 7.”

The truthstone stayed green.

The pen resumed writing, as the woman asked, “Is the Cult big on murdering itself?”

“When other parts of the Cult get out of line with Melemizargo’s goals, yes.”

The woman almost sighed. She didn’t want to ask this next question, but she did, anyway. “Did Melemizargo put you up to killing those other Cultists?”

“No.” Deckari said, “I just saw the chance to kill the people who had promised to kill my old team if they ever came to visit, and I took it.”

“… So you still harbor some love for your old adventuring team?” She glanced at the paperwork. “Rapple Leaf Four?”

“Of course I do.” Deckari was hurt at the woman’s insinuation, whatever she could have been insinuating with those words, but he let it go. “I told them to stay away. They only stayed away after I converted, though.” He said, “I am truly a Cultist. You can’t fake that. Melemizargo doesn’t like that.”

“… Okay.” The woman said, “If you were not a Cultist, I could offer you a third choice of getting your paperwork vetted that would be that. But since you’re a Cultist, and you have admitted to killing some guards… Who were also Cultists, according to you, you have two choices.” She pointed with both her finger and the floating pen at Poi, across the street, saying, “Archmage Flatt’s Mind Mage is the fast way. He’s over there. I suggest you forget about all of this paperwork and just go to him.” Then she and her pen pointed to the right. “They’re the start of the slower way.”

She had indicated a circle of stone and glass and crystal, sitting out of the [Domain of Light], under the rain, where four people stood to the four corners of the magic circle and held their hands high, as a shadeling stood in the center. Magic flashed. The four casters and the shadeling began to glow. The casters glowed white, with a bit of grey and a bit of red. The shadeling glowed grey with a lot of black, and a little bit of red.

According to what Erick had seen before, that meant that everyone in that circle was guilty of killing someone, but it wasn’t outright murder.

Deckari frowned. He glanced at Poi, then turned toward the circle of casters.

The shadeling in the center of the circle was directed to the right, to another desk. They had passed their test. They got to continue onto the next set of paperwork.

Another shadeling walked into the magic circle. The casters raised their arms. The shadeling glowed bright red this time, almost instantly. That brightness barely had a chance to get out, and the shadeling barely had a chance to plead for mercy, before the air flexed and the shadeling imploded into a head-sized ball of gore.

Someone cast a [Cleanse] on the gore, vanishing it into thick air.

Deckari turned back to the woman behind the desk, pleading, “I know I killed those guards and I’m sorry but they deserved it. They were Cultists, too. Can I please have leniency for these facts?”

The truthstone stayed green.

Without remorse, the woman said, “If you leave the line now and fail to go to the indicated options, you will be hunted and killed where you stand.” She said, “We want this commune emptied today. You have two avenues open to you. Pick one.” She briefly gestured toward Poi again, saying, “The monsters the Mind Mage finds aren’t getting instantly killed, but all us normal people can do is summary judge your sins with a Seeker. So I suggest you go to the Mind Mage, and try your luck there, monster.”

The truthstone stayed green.

Deckari had hoped for a different outcome than what the woman had given him. He had hoped that his circumstances would have given him that third option, that the woman had taken away. He only had two choices before him. One was certain death. The other was less certain.

To be sure, he said, “If I hadn’t have told you about the Cultist thing and the killing thing you would have judged me as a person, and not as what you see before you.”

The woman said, “Correct. And then we would have found out later and executed you upon the reveal of your lie.”

Deckari reluctantly got in line for Poi.

It would be a while before he got to the front of that line, so Erick mentally marked Deckari and moved his sight elsewhere.

- - - -

A woman tried to kill a desk clerk. She was executed where she stood, with spells and attacks coming from seven different directions, all at once. Erick’s contribution to the fight was the deflection of the woman’s heart-piercing magic, saving the desk clerk’s life.

A hundred shadelings passed their investigations. Erick helped them on their way to Candlepoint.

A trio of men tried to murder the Sin Seekers at the magic circle. Erick intervened, faster than anyone else, saving the lives of the Sin Seekers. The trio failed in their attempt. They died.

- - - -

Erick watched as Deckari watched as Ophiel took a woman away in a flash of light.

Deckari stepped up to Poi, looking grim, and resigned.

Poi asked his questions.

Deckari reluctantly gave his consent.

The scan happened, and then finished.

Poi said, “Deckari Sideril-Nosier. Cultist. Mostly solo. Tried to get others involved in the Cult. He has murdered in a calculating and purposeful manner, but the guards he murdered were purposefully inciting the war of the day. According to other people I have scanned, and Deckari himself, those guards were also Cultists, so if we were to overlook the fact that Deckari is a Cultist himself, and that the targets were technically part of Treehome’s forces, he would have been given honors in any other situation.” He narrowed his eyes at Deckari, and said, “The vigilantism is frowned upon but your circumstances were valid. When you get to Candlepoint, join the guard or the adventuring guild there. It is not a true Guild, but they’re trying to get that approval. For now, and if you wish, you could be helping to feed yourself and others the rads you need to survive.”

To Poi’s side, a clerk and their floating pen wrote down everything then filed that paperwork away in the appropriate wooden box.

Deckari stood stunned. He breathed out, and he failed to breathe back in; his jaw open in astonishment. And then he gasped. He sniffled. He breathed fast a few times, then shut his mouth as tears threatened. Others in the line watched on, as Deckari walked over to Ophiel, muttering, “Thank you.”

Ophiel whisked him away to Candlepoint.

Erick felt a fraction of relief.

The next person stepped up to Poi, and Poi gave his speech, asking for consent.

The woman said, “I consent.”

Poi began his scan.

- - - -

Erick watched as Deckari stepped onto the black ground of Candlepoint.

The Guardmaster of Candlepoint, Slip, said, “I got an eye on you.” He pointed upward, toward an Ophiel floating overhead. “But Erick’s got a hundred.”

Deckari said, “Heard and understood!”

Slip nodded. Then he asked, “Now what do you want to do with your life?”

“Adventuring seems great to me.”

“Then you’re gonna want to talk to Zaraanka Checharin of the Pink House or the guildhouse. Human woman, likes to wear pink.” Slip pointed. “It’s that way.” He thumbed behind him, toward a squat, black building. “And that’s the Dark Temple. If you want to try your hand at turning back to what you were before, you go in there, and you might come out alive but you won’t come out whole. We got healers on standby for that. Try it or not, I don’t care.”

Deckari locked eyes with the Dark temple, then tentatively asked, “What about open worship?”

“Nonexistent.” Slip said, “I’m watching you. I’ve got you in my book.”

Deckari flinched, then said, “Heard and understood!”

Deckari strode off toward the Pink House, trying not to smile too wide.

The bright blue sky showed through gaps in the clouds, as a cool wind blew from the north, and shadelings lived out in the open, all around, without fear. Well. Maybe a little bit of fear. Deckari glanced up at a squadron of robe-type summoned creatures, hovering above the white Crystal in the center of town, while more robe-summons crawled out of the artifact’s white surface, to gather into more formations, to go wherever they were meant to go.

Deckari glanced around, and saw no other summons, though. Perhaps he was looking for the armored ones that he had seen, back when Candlepoint was ruled by a Shade.

Ophiel hovered high in the sky, in his diffuse lightform self, barely a glow on the sky as he watched the new addition to Candlepoint find his way, while spying on many other current events. Erick turned most of his attention back to his own body, though he was never too far away from any of his Ophiel.

- - - -

Erick wasn’t that far away from Yggdrasil, either.

But sometimes it felt like that to Yggdrasil. Possibly. Maybe. He wasn’t quite sure what anything felt like, except for the water, and the waves above, and the darkness and the light. He checked up on Erick almost all the time, keeping a [Scry] eye close and active to his creator, but that was not the same as being there. Which was fine. He didn’t think he liked moving all that much. When he tried flexing a branch, it was the most awful feeling in the world. It was like flexing a branch! And wasn’t that awful.

But when he grew that branch. Oh! That was practically wondrous. It was a sense of progress, a sense of distance passed, and a sense of being that much closer to the world around him.

There was a lot of world to get close to, after all, and he was so very small, with such very small thoughts. Thinking was a bit difficult, but he could still do it if he thought hard enough.

What was ‘thinking’, anyway?

He was certainly getting something resembling thoughts through his connection with Erick, but they were shadows of a truth that was just out of his reach. Erick spoke of waking from dreams, one time…

Or maybe Erick had thought that idea around a space currently occupied by Yggdrasil? And Yggdrasil had just picked it up?

Yggdrasil wasn’t quite sure.

He wasn’t quite sure about anything.

And what was going on with all the destruction happening around Erick right now, anyway? And those words he had spoken. End, and Peace. There had been Power in those words, and though the first one was interesting, the second one felt better. Like a firmament laying down, giving layered rise to new growths, where the tangled roots of possibility stretched out into time’s eyes and soaked through the matter of the world, drawing forth new perspectives in the tumbled light and shadows…

Yggdrasil imagined leaves and branching patterns of fractal might and other nebulous things, like people riding goats through the dark water and turning lights to flowers in the air, as shadows were people and people became shadows and the abyss was just the start of another, deeper world...

Ah.

It was time for dreams, apparently.

Yggdrasil didn’t quite sleep, but he wasn’t quite awake, either.

Even when he was awake, an argument could be made that he was actually, truly asleep.

- - - -

They had seen the battle in the sky, of course, for they had been out on the town at the time, but they had not participated except to make themselves scarce, and to then run back to the hotel after it was all over. It was only then that they got an update from Poi, and from others.

Jane frowned as Kiri repeated the news, after Teressa denied it wholeheartedly.

Kiri tore through her bag of clothes, muttering, “Where is my good dress—” She stopped, and rounded at Teressa, saying, “It’s true! And we need to prepare! Part of that is not looking like we just came off the street!”

Jane joked, “But we did just come off the street.”

“You!!!” Kiri ignored Jane as she ripped into her second bag.

“It can’t be true.” Teressa said, “Erick wouldn’t— He wouldn’t do that? He wouldn’t help the Cult? Against Treehome?”

Jane said, “If he had a good enough reason, I’m sure he would have.” She added, “And if we’re going to war, what’s the point of clothes?”

“Only you would say that! We’re not at war yet, so don’t go putting us at war when we could step back from the edg—” Kiri stopped tearing into her second bag of clothes, saying, “Right! I have [Clothe]!”

She shimmered like a magical princess, and Jane was a little bit jealous when she came out of that shimmer wearing earrings made of silver and diamonds and green gems darker than her scales, along with a classy, white dress.

“Ah ha!” Kiri said, “I knew I brought it!” She kicked her bag to the side of the room, venting her anger just a bit.

Jane said, “Why did you ever bring that?”

Kiri rounded on Jane, saying, “Because I knew that sometimes our battles would not be ones of swords or spells, Jane.” Kiri dropped her anger like it was poison, for it was, and adopted a perfect facade of poise and grace, as she said, “This is going to be a battle of politics and nobility well before it turns into a war of swords and spells, and if you can’t do that, then you should stick to the shadows and stick to what you’re good at, but I, for one, am going to stand by Erick with all of my might.” A Sunny coiled around her neck, becoming both a necklace and a scarf, as Kiri turned to Teressa, saying, “And you! What’s your damage? Erick told us that he is helping the shadelings. Not that he is helping the Cult!”

“But all the shadelings in the commune are a part of the cult.” Teressa said, “That’s what everyone is saying.”

“Obviously you have been lied to.” Jane said, “If they were a part of the Cult, then they wouldn’t have been changed to shadelings by taking in multiple New Stats.”

“Okay. Okay.” Teressa said, “Probably. But Erick went and stepped right into all of it… Erick wouldn’t do anything too crazy, would he?”

Kiri’s eyes went fractionally wider, but they could have gone much wider than that.

Teressa said, “Okay. I realize how stupid I just sounded.” She went to her room, saying, “I know I brought something...”

Jane said, “I’m not playing dress up.”

Kiri deflated the perfect amount to show displeasure as she looked Jane up and down, and said, “Please get over yourself and put on something better than leathers and dirt. Before the day is done, we will either be fighting for our lives, or talking to people a thousand rungs higher on the social ladder than us. [Conjure Armor] can make up for the first eventuality, but it will not do for the second. They will look down on us if we wear fake clothes. They always do.”

Teressa called out from her room, “Orcol society isn’t as shitty as your own, Kiri.”

“And yet you’re still changing!”

“… And yet I am still changing.”

Kiri glared at Jane.

Jane frowned, then went to her room.

In two minutes, the three of them were ready. Kiri, with her classy white dress and surrounded by floating couatl-shaped Sunnys. Jane, in a black dress with a slit up the side that made moving easy and could be discarded at a moment’s notice for [Polymorph]ing. Teressa, in a three-piece suit of grey with silver accents.

Jane said, “I like that, Teressa.”

“It’s my uniform for official parties. Cost way too much.”

Kiri asked, “We ready? I’ve scouted a good location and I’m blipping us close, but not too close.”

“What the fuck?” Jane asked. “Just get us right in there next to dad.”

Kiri said, “We’ll have to walk in, Jane. That place is laced with [Teleport Trap]s of the ‘instantly clasped in irons’ variety. I didn’t get to see much of it because they popped Sunny several times, but some trio of noble-looking orcols blipped right into the commune, right where some guards were waiting for them, and then other guards came in and locked them all in chains, including the ones that allowed the others to come into the commune. If we blip in there, then we will be roughly escorted to a tiny cell, and besides that! I got a chance to speak to him, as I’m sure you did, too, and Erick has asked us to be as polite as possible… But if things look to go bad, then… We’ll figure something out. If things do go wrong, Erick will probably be better off without us there… Maybe we shouldn’t go at all.” Kiri asked, “So. Are we going in? Are we doing this? This is dangerous.”

“I’m going in, and you two are welcome to join me.” Jane said, “If nothing else, I can be another pair of eyes to watch my father’s back.”

Teressa tried a joke to lighten the mood, “Silverite would kill me if Erick died on us and I wasn’t there to protect him.”

“Good. I thought so, but… Yeah. I need to be there, too. I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t go and he ended up needing me.” Kiri said, “Short-term spells, then.”

Jane started running a few spells. Teressa did the same. All three women steeled themselves, and then a couatl touched each of them, and then they were gone, out of their hotel room at Arbor O’kabil, and onto a flat spot of land in the middle of nowhere, that was slightly in sight of the commune.

“Ah. Shit.” Jane said, “That looks bad.”

Across a few hills, past a sparse treeline, was a land of broken shadows and solid light, surrounded by icy stone and even more solid light. Rain fell, but it was a light drizzle.

“It’s worse up close.” Kiri said, “They’re shooting down everything that flies over there.”

As if her words summoned the action, several sparkling spells exploded in small amounts over the commune.

“Just like that,” Kiri said. “More [Scry] eyes, maybe.”

Teressa grunted. It was go-time, and she had few words to spare, anyway.

Jane took the lead.

They met a blockade within moments of passing over the first hill. A low wall of hastily-erected stone had been put up by someone, then manned by guards standing atop that low wall. Their wall wasn’t even the largest one in the area; that designation belonged to the jailing wall that formed the second concentric ring around the commune, past the wall that directly surrounded the commune. The middle wall, the jailing wall and all the guard barracks and towers there, had been broken by some large-scale magics. The commune’s wall was barely visible, but what was visible were ruins and rubble. Where those structures had been broken, solid light had filled the gaps.

“Halt!” said a man in solid, wooden armor, next to the outer wall. He held a spear at the ready as the three women appeared. Him and seven of his guard buddies turned toward Jane, Kiri, and Teressa. “No interference! Leave now, or be locked in chains until this is all over! The other prisons are not full, at all! We can always make more rooms.”

Kiri stepped forward, half a step, saying, “We are here as associates of Archmage Erick Flatt, and wish clear entry into the contested zone. Please allow us entry.”

“Fuck that Cultist lover! We have no obligation to him!” The guard stepped toward them, again, shouting louder, “If you wanted entry in there, that was a bad lie to try! That place is rigged to blow if anyone tries to ‘port in, so don’t go trying that, either.” He stabbed his spear forward. Lightning crackled from the tip and struck the ground in front of Kiri, scattering dirt on her dress. He shouted, “Leave!”

The other guards focused on the three women, though some kept their eyes open for people coming from other directions. They were all on high alert.

Kiri simply asked, “Is there a way to procure travel inside, using legal means?”

“No.” The man brandished his spear. It crackled with electricity. “Leave.”

Kiri half-turned, then said, “Then we are leaving.”

And then she did.

When they were far enough away, Kiri whispered to Jane and Teressa, “There’s another place down the way. We’ll try there.”

Teressa asked, “Rigged to blow?”

“A lie.” Jane said, “I can see the spells they have beyond there, and those look like [Force Trap] but with [Bind] and a few other spells to them. Hard to tell from this far away.”

“They didn’t look like the deadly kinds of traps to me, either.” Teressa said, “I was just wondering if either of you two saw what I saw, too. But that man seemed convinced of what he was telling us.”

“That’s what they told him those spells were,” Jane said. “It’s not lying if you don’t know you’re lying.”

Kiri sighed, “I need [Mana Sight], don’t I?”

“Yup.” “Yes.”

When they were close to the next attempt, Kiri said, “You’ll take the lead on this next try, Jane. Or maybe you, Teressa? You two interacted with that guy more than I did. One of your friends, from the Hunt.”

Jane had looked excited, but then paused. “Who? Which one?”

“That guy. What’s-his-name. The one you actually went Hunting with.”

“… Oh.” Jane said, “We’re not friends.”

Teressa snorted. “Oh yeah. They’re not friends.”

“Gods above and all around, Jane!” Kiri found herself pushed over an edge, and spat, “Why the fuck can’t you be friendly?”

“I tried!”

“She did try.” Teressa said, “But he kept stealing her kills.”

Jane waved a hand, adding, “And then things just sort of… Escalated.”

Kiri locked down her stronger emotions, and said, “Whatever. We’re still trying your not-friend. Try to be friendly, please.”

- - - -

“Kordon!” Jane called out, “My ashy friend!”

The next attempt at the encircling wall was a kilometer to the west, a kilometer closer to Treehome, and Arbor Home’s District. In this place, there were roads and the hills had buildings on them, and Kiri, Teressa, and Jane, were not the only people standing far away from the third encircling wall of the commune, watching the guards, and the land beyond.

Kordon stood atop that low wall, along with several other guards. They hadn’t noticed Jane, Teressa, or Kiri from the crowd, until the three of them had stepped closer than most others were willing. And then Jane called out to them, drawing even more looks, both from the guards up there, and from the people down below.

A nameless guard stepped forward, saying, “Back up, ma’am. Do not approach. Do not engage with us. We are keeping this place safe and we do not need your shit right now. Leave.”

Jane said, “Well, that's gonna be a problem. See, my father is in there, and I mean to get to him. So I need you to tell me how that’s done, and then let me do whatever I need to do to get that done.”

Kordon leapt from the low wall, to move forward, saying, “I got this, Hurock.”

The first guard, Hurock, huffed, then stepped to the side, saying, “They’re not getting through. Tell them to go away.”

“I know.” Kordon turned to Jane, and from five meters away, said, “Jane. Leave. This doesn’t concern you. There aren’t any humans in there, anyway. It’s all shadelings. Your father is not here. I know you want to play games and shove your tiny weight around, but this is not about a fun hunt right now. They’re Cultists and killers in there, and you are not welcome. Leave.”

“You have no idea why you were beaten so badly, do you? You never really thought about it, did you?” Jane said, “I really didn’t want to do this, but I gotta say, that you’re not too bright. Why were you even called in here?”

Hurock seemed to flinch as though jolted. He took another look at Jane, and sighed.

“I’m an elite guard. Of course they called me in.” Kordon’s voice turned harder, “And you’re stepping too far. Leave.”

“Okay. Fine. You’re an ‘elite guard’ and I’m sorry for that state of your guard if that is true. But I’m not leaving, though. This is further than we got at the other place.” Jane eyed the guards behind Kordon, asking, “One of you has a truthstone, yeah? Well hold it up, and listen good. I’m Jane Flatt, my father is Erick Flatt, and I need to know what the fuck is going on in there with my father.”

Kordon instantly derided, “Gods! You’re a fucking princess! No fucking wonder. How many gods damned artifacts are you wearing right now? Couldn’t beat me in a bout without ‘em, could you!”

Other people had decidedly different reactions. The crowd backed away from Jane. The guards in the area focused on her, entirely. And then the first guard, Hurock, came forward.

Hurock held a green stone in his hands, and said, “I’m not dealing with this shit.” He singled out Kordon, saying, “Since you know the young lady, take three people and escort the women into the commune. Pretend they’re one of the chieftains we let through.”

Kordon almost yelled at his superior officer, but then he locked eyes with Hurock, lost some of his sudden anger, and turned back toward Jane. With narrowed eyes, he said, “Well come on then, princess! You get even more special treatment! Want me to massage your feet for you, too?”

“Absolutely not.” Jane said, “You’d probably be shit at hitting my critical spots just as you were shit at critting that Chimeral Cat.”

Suddenly struck dumb, but then quickly recovering, Kordon exclaimed, “Chimeras don’t have critical spots! They’re five different monsters at the same time!”

Jane pointed at the truthstone in Hurock’s hand, saying, “I crit that Chimera twice and killed it when you couldn’t. And it was easy.”

The truthstone stayed green.

Jane said, “Not my fault you don’t know shit.”

“Kordon.” Hurock said, “Take the women and deliver them to the Archmage. Now.”

Kordon turned around. He jumped back on top of the wall, pointed at three guys, then jumped down to the other side, into the badlands where spells of sharp light still hung in the air. Jane stepped on flowing shadows to reach the top of the wall in one smooth motion, while Kiri stepped on light like it was a staircase, taking quick steps upward. Teressa just pumped her legs and leapt onto the three-meter tall wall in a single bound. The seven of them proceeded across the badlands, with Kordon silently leading the way.

Spells of detection and otherwise noticed, scanned, questioned, and dismissed the seven of them as they walked through curtains of light and trod through bloody mud. The people at the first jailing curtain wall had a few questions about ‘what the fuck is going on’, but they must have gotten their answers from better sources than Jane and her escorts, because that second line of soldiers moved the seven of them right on through the next battlefield, and then to the breach in the commune, itself, where layer upon layer of detection magics filled the air like the spider webs of the Weaver’s Quarters in Ar’Kendrithyst.

The density of the magic here was only visible with [Mana Sight], though. While her father’s [Domain of Light] blocked, corralled, and denied, like a massive glacier, the spider webs sought to trigger and inform those who waited for anyone to step out of line. The glacier and the spiderwebs were almost comparable densities of magic, too.

Jane guessed that they were [Alarm Ward]s, or a variant thereof. As Kordon spoke to the people manning the final barrier to the commune, and finally got them access, he walked forward and triggered several of those alarms. Those spells flickered, sending off signals to others higher on the walls, and out of direct line of sight.

Jane felt tense, but also fluid; ready to leap in any direction at a moment’s notice.

But Kordon got them through the final checkpoint, unmolested. Following Kordon, the three of them passed beyond the final rubble-like wall, to make it inside the commune proper.

Jane let out a breath as she saw the lines of shadelings and the desks and the people in full armor with weapons in their hands, and her father, beyond it all, standing on the edge of a broken building. Light surrounded him like a tumbling river, and yet frozen in time and place. Ophiels flitted about, both in their sunforms, and as winged, eyed, abominations. Poi stood to the side of her father, wielding tendrils of brightest magic, touching upon a shadeling, only to let go, and then declare something too quiet for Jane to hear over the voices of everyone else, all around. It was louder here than Jane would have thought. Everyone was talking everywhere else.

She must have passed a sound barrier back there. She had missed that one, eh?

Kordon gestured to a path in the ground, never raising his hand higher than his own waist. With a subdued attitude much more fitting for the situation than his previous one, he warned, “No loud actions or spells. Don’t raise your hands. No fast actions, either. Follow me. Do not run.” He glanced to the three escorts, and said, “Wait here for me for the walk back.”

The three other escorts just nodded, then stood to the side.

Kordon proceeded forward, and Jane followed. Kiri stepped to Jane’s left, while Teressa took up the rear. Many, many people watched them walk across the muddy land, including every shadeling in the lines, at least once. Those same people and shadelings quickly returned to writing on papers or talking or getting spelled from four different directions at once, by four different mages. Sin Seekers, if Jane had to guess.

The Sin Seekers flickered grey and red, in minute quantities, while the woman shadeling between the four of them glowed mostly grey. No red at all. One of the senior officers at the side, if Jane had to guess, declared the woman clear. The woman bypassed a smaller desk and stepped to a waiting Ophiel, and then she was gone.

Kordon walked Jane, Kiri, and Teressa to the edge of her father’s [Domain of Light], and then he took a step inside. Jane did too, and instantly felt better. Her father was here, and whole, and no one was fighting right now. Some tight knot of discomfort loosened around her heart as she saw him, wreathed in light, and he saw her. He smiled.

“Hey, dad,” Jane mouthed, not willing to speak too loudly.

He nodded at her, but also said nothing.

Kordon guided them to the edge of a [Prismatic Ward], his eyes on Erick the whole time. He went no further. He stepped to the side, saying, “Ladies. Jane. Nice to meet you. I hope the next time you’re in Treehome you don’t cheat in our bout.”

Teressa and Kiri went right through the edge of the [Prismatic Ward], ignoring Kordon. But he did not ignore them, or how easily they moved into the protected space. His jaw opened a little, as disbelief and proof warred in his eyes. And then he sighed.

Kordon said, “I guess you weren’t lying, eh?”

Jane walked into the dense air, too, saying, “Yup. I wasn’t lying about this. And I wasn’t lying about not cheating in our bout, either; not really. I only used three Skills against you, but they weren’t exactly what I called them.” She added, “See you around, Kordon.”

“Stay out of trouble, Jane.”

Kordon walked away, and Jane watched him go, briefly, before glancing at Poi. He was doing the Mind Mage thing, whatever that was, to a willing orcol man. Jane put that out of her own mind, and turned to her father.

He was already talking to Kiri and Teressa, but as Jane came in, he readily included her, saying, “Hey, Jane.” He said to the three of them, “I’m glad you all could make it. I could use your...”

His white eyes drifted away from the three of them as his focus went somewhere else, briefly. In that short moment, magic flared, and the entirety of his eyes shifted to white, his pupils becoming almost too small to see. And then he came back, smiling again, the same man that Jane had always known her whole life, trying to be happy for everyone else while he helped everyone else, and usually succeeded. Sometimes, she wondered if he was truly happy himself.

He said, “I could use your help. A few Treehome Elders have already shown and they’re up there, behind us.” He lifted his head toward the building in the back, saying, “Warchief Koropo is up there. Introduce yourself, Kiri. Show him Sunny. Ask what you can do to help and be diplomatic. Both of you go with her. Teressa, offer your [Witness] if he asks, though I don’t think he will. Jane, I don’t know what he would ask of you, but anything to show sincerity would be good.”

Kiri was polite as she said, “I think you should introduce us to him, Erick.”

“… Right!” Erick said, “Right. I should. Shouldn’t I? You’ve never met— I don’t know what I was thinking. I’m…” He looked away again, then came back, saying, “Everything is moving really fast right now.”

Jane said, “I’m not going anywhere, dad. I’m staying right here, silently observing, and guarding. When the people have gone to Candlepoint and all this ordeal is over, then we can consider optics and politics.”

Erick breathed in, then said, “That’s a better idea than the one I had. Yes. Let’s do that.” He rapidly added, “Thank you for coming in through the front… way…” He looked away again.

When he didn’t come back right away, Jane settled down to one side of her father. Teressa took the other. Kiri stepped to the back, while Sunny spread out around them all; not going too far, but not remaining too close, either.

Jane considered, briefly, the saturated world of color and power all around her, as she considered her own theoretical Domain. But mostly, she kept her eyes on the jumpy crowd and the tense soldiers.

Poi declared the man in front of him, “Not our problem.”

The man instantly roared, “But I—!”

Ophiel descended upon the man with bloody countermagics while soldiers to the sides descended with restrictive spells of capture and containment. The entire event was over in a moment, though the man was still alive, and still struggling. The bloody spells kept locking down the shadeling’s magics, as soldiers took him away, out of the line and out of sight.

Jane watched the whole thing happen, knowing that it was not her place to get involved, and so she didn’t.

Kiri, though, went pale at what she had seen. She hadn’t been ready for that.

Poi spoke to a scribe to the side, saying, “Name of Saldrock Waterammer. Cultist. His main offense was that he plotted the murders of an entire noble family over the course of the last three years in Portal, and that he is not done with that vendetta. He plans to keep killing everyone that was involved in a certain event in his life. You will have to give him to Portal, or the Pearl King, or coordinate with them for further action. They would know him as the Belt Killer, and the people he killed as House Harathin. He saw those murders as justice. And they might have been.” He said, “Either way, Portal would want that man. He is not our problem and we cannot harbor people like him.”

The scribe wrote everything down in the appropriate boxes, their eyes going a little wide at Poi’s proclamation. Jane’s eyes had gone a little wide, too, as had Kiri and Teressa’s and several other people both in line, and all around.

“Holy gods… First time for that. Waiting all day long for that to happen—” Erick sighed, saying, “Bound to happen eventually.” He asked, “Why did he think he could come through this line and not get caught?”

“I will not say.” Poi said, “If they don’t kill him right away, then all of that will likely come out at his trial, but it will not come out here, or from me. He did not consent to that when he consented to this Scan.”

The scribe asked, “Cultist connections?”

“Many, and varied. He knew Omaz and several others.”

The scribe said, “Then they probably won’t kill him right away.”

Erick said, “I want to see him delivered to Portal, eventually. He must face justice, and if he thought that he was doing justice, then I must ensure his trial isn’t a farce.”

Poi said, “I will inform Silverite, if you wish.”

Erick said, “Thank you, Poi.”

The scribe said, “I will mark down your wishes, Archmage.”

Jane silently watched as the next person came up to Poi, and Poi gave a tiny speech, asking for consent.

The woman in line said, “I give my consent.”

- - - -

Hours passed.

People died for deaths that they had caused and for which they desired to continue to commit. That desire to continue killing was the only thing that Poi called out, but the Sin Seekers of Treehome judged against all murder, and all Cult connection, no matter the situation or the circumstance. But at the end of the day, only thirty nine people were executed for their crimes.

All the rest went to Candlepoint.

Some of those people just sat under trees and listened to the wind and the sounds of freedom all around, contained in the voices of the people, flowing on the desert wind. They relaxed, unwound, consoled each other, and then moved on. Some did not move on until they got hungry, or had some other necessity. Others went right to talking with the residents of Candlepoint, asking questions and finding answers. Some Cultists met other Cultists, and Erick informed Slip of those meetings, but Slip already knew all of them. He had kept his eyes open and his guard on point, tracking movements and keeping tabs almost better than Ophiel.

The Cult was already there, in Candlepoint, but at this, there would be a small surge in practice. Erick had no doubt that some people would chance open worship. He hoped that Melemizargo’s Clergy would not revive under his watch.

There were no Shades in Candlepoint, according to a [Cascade Imaging] of the area.

Hopefully it would stay that way for a while longer.

- - - -

The muddy roads of the commune were empty of all shadelings. Light no longer hung in the air. Golems of ice and stone were returned to the land and Tenebrae had sent his rock man forward to speak to the guards on that side of the commune, before the rock man left, too, having never made his way over to Erick to speak any further.

Which was understandable. Erick didn’t feel like talking to the rock guy, or Tenebrae, either.

Koropo ordered the soldiers and guards on duty to begin taking down the commune. They readily obeyed, moving in groups of five throughout the dark place. They systematically took down houses and otherwise, first removing the anti-[Stoneshape] runes embedded in the stone, before turning stone to sand, and vibrating out all the stuff that had been inside the houses. Furniture, rags, clothes, brushes, soaps… All the accoutrements of life floated to the top of the sand, while the sand itself was shoved back into the ground. Most of the stuff was burned in great big piles.

Erick watched as another pile went up in flames, to the north. Then he turned his attention back to the stairs before him, which led up to a flat meeting area that had been made for this moment. With his daughter, his apprentice, and his guards following him, Erick stepped up onto that platform, where the people there had been watching him approach for the last ten seconds. Three chieftains had decided to come to the commune, to see the end of the commune, and to speak to him, personally.

Chieftain Peron Wyrmrest, in his diamond-studded green robes, took a place of importance in the center of a half-circle of seats. He was flanked to the left by Chieftain Yura O’kabil, an ancient woman with white hair and lines on her face unlike every other old orcol Erick had ever seen before. She wore silver robes. To his right was Chieftain Bloodwoo Nosier, who had to be the thinnest orcol Erick had ever seen. He looked almost emaciated in his plain tan clothes, but he was also rather tall, at almost four meters tall, so maybe he was a perfectly normal weight for an orcol of his size.

Warchief Koropo sat to Bloodwoo’s right.

And, unexpectedly, Archmage Tenebrae sat to Yura’s left. The human man looked exactly the same as the last time Erick had seen him, all the way back at Oceanside all those months ago; tan skin, white hair and beard, and with a hateful scowl on his face that let you know he did not want to be here.

Erick said to the man, “I thought you had left.”

“Aye. And then they called me back for this.” Tenebrae frowned. “What the fuck are you doing stepping into shit that isn’t your concern? You’re getting tricked by Melemizargo, for sure. You know that, right? He tries to get to all of us, all the time, but you seem to like being in his claws.”

“It’s a matter of principle to help where I can, and to solve problems when I can. It’s not my fault you seem to ascribe this perfectly normal desire to help in perfectly normal ways into being somehow working for the Darkness.” Erick looked to the Chieftains, as he said, “This single problem is now removed from your city. I am sorry for how I went about helping the shadelings and stepping over your authority, but everything happened rather fast. So. Apologies for that.”

Bloodwoo spoke, “You will assist us in a large scale culling of specific monsters from the Forest, and we will call it even. You will not be paid for this. It will be expected of you. Further disruptions to the law and further trampling of Treehome’s authority will be met with extreme anger and a deterioration of goodwill. Do you agree?”

No one else said anything else. They all waited for Erick’s decision.

Erick, meanwhile, took a moment to catch up. They weren’t yelling at him? It was right to business? This had to be a trap of some sort.

Erick asked, “Which monsters?”

“Moon Reachers, Deathsoul Shrooms. Just those two, for now.” Bloodwoo said, “We also ask that you be open to completely obliterating the entire Forest and helping to regrow it all afterward. We would, of course, leave certain patches of it alone, so that the proper biologics can take hold of the land once it is regrown. But our prognosticators have not fully vetted this idea. Once they do, we will proceed to the next phase of the plan. If we do end up obliterating the whole Forest with your assistance, you will not be allowed to harvest those rads yourself, but you will instead be granted 10% of the rads we will harvest.” He added, “It is just an idea at the moment, but these are the numbers we are looking at.”

Erick breathed out. He said, “Okay. I agree to the first part, and agree to keep an open mind about the second part.”

Bloodwoo Nosier leaned back, satisfied.

Yura O’kabil asked, “Will you give up the location of the traitor Omaz?”

“No.” Erick said, “He’s soul-shackled. I will not get between you and him, but I have a responsibility to let that play out. I highly doubt that he will be harming anyone except himself anytime soon.”

Yura sighed, then sat back in her chair.

“I am not satisfied with this solution.” Peron eyed Erick. “Neither is Wyrmrest. Omaz has pertinent knowledge regarding the Cult of Treehome, going back decades. We have no doubt that he lived and worked and undermined us since the day he first Matriculated. He stole from our archmages to use that stolen knowledge and power against the whole of our people. Just today, the actions of the Cult and Omaz have killed over a thousand people, with more numbers pouring in each minute!”

Erick steeled away his own emotions, as he said, “And Omaz feels every one of those deaths, more deeply than any pain you could possibly put him through.” Slightly incensed, but trying to keep a cool head, Erick added, “Besides! We all knew what was going to happen when we all decided to pursue this action against the Cult today, Chieftain Peron. The only thing I will be accepting fault for is for taking the shadelings from this place, and for not asking for your permission to do so.”

Peron narrowed his eyes, and said nothing.

Yura said, “It is a cruel punishment you deal in, Archmage Flatt. It is one thing to mutilate the soul of a Shade in order to enact justice, but it is another to do the same to a person. We do not like this outcome, and so, for our own part, we will also seek Omaz. We are not done with him. Not by a long ways.”

Peron added, “We will still seek him out; Yes. We will still deliver our own justice unto his head, after we extract everything useful out of that rotten skull of his.”

Bloodwoo said, “Nosier wants nothing to do with this hunt. We have other, more important targets in mind for the near future. He and I both wish to add that we do not like that Omaz was soul-shackled. We would have preferred the cleaner solution of the executioner’s pyre. As he is, he is an unknown, much like Shade Treant. Much like the shadelings let go today. Much like Candlepoint.” He looked to Erick with deep-set eyes, saying, “Much like you, Archmage Flatt. If anyone else would have done what you have done here today, we would already be trying to string you up above the pyre, as well.”

Erick did not respond to that.

They seemed to want him to, but what wrong had he done that he had not already apologized for? The only truly wrong thing he had done was to enforce his will upon the situation, trampling over the authority of the people who lived here, but because of that, a lot of people who would have died, had lived. Though there were collateral deaths of the innocent kind, and those were unfortunate, but ripping out a tumor does have consequences. There was not a single person on this stage that was not guilty of ‘poking the dragon’, as it were.

… He really should bring that up again, shouldn’t he? But then again, they didn’t seem that angry with him, and if he poked this dragon sitting before him, they would try to poke back. Were they purposefully egging him on to say something that he didn’t need to say? It was quite possible. Highly likely, even.

After a long moment of Erick standing there, and the Chieftains and Warchief sitting in judgment, there was yet another long moment of waiting for something else to happen.

Ophiel whistled a gentle nonsense tune from his spot on Erick’s shoulder.

Yura broke the tense air, saying, “The day’s war is over, but there is much to be done going forward. Archmage Flatt. I will call upon you tonight, in your room. I wish to have a personal discussion with you regarding certain subjects that have no bearing on this here.”

Erick blinked in surprise. “You’re not kicking me out?”

“No.” Yura said—

As Peron said, “Unfortunately not.”

Yura continued, “We are not kicking you out of Treehome. Or anywhere else, for that matter.”

“You are the sovereign of a nation of your own making, Archmage Flatt.” Bloodwoo said, “Therefore we are considering today as a diplomatic problem with a diplomatic solution. To us, you are the new ruler of all shadelings and you merely took your people back.”

“Oh… No...” The weight of Bloodwoo’s words came crashing down on Erick. He said, “That is untrue. I will not accept that designation.”

“Then we will say you are their jailer, for the truth is what we make of it, for we are a much larger nation than yours and all you have power over is a few thousand monsters. We have this prerogative, and this power, and so we will use it.” Bloodwoo said, “Please do not countermand us when we say that you took your people back today, while giving us the ones who sought to harm our nation. It will enable you to enjoy a higher level of political power going forward if we are to speak nicely of you.”

“Well that’s the oddest way anyone has ever asked to fuck me before,” Erick said, “But sure. Why not.”

“Be warned.” Peron said, “If you die or lose control of that city to the Cult then we will turn that land and all the monsters therein to ash and glass.”

Erick put on the best political facade that he could at that tense moment. He said, “Then I will be sure to neither die, nor to let a destructive Cult take over Candlepoint.”

Peron huffed.

Bloodwoo said, “Then, for now, we will be sure to paint you in a better light than we could have in both our official responses to our constituents regarding the day’s events, and in future dealings between our peoples and yourself. Do not make us regret this decision.”

For a little while now, Tenebrae had been smiling, ever so slightly.

And Erick couldn’t take it any longer. He asked, “Why are you smiling?”

“Because!” Archmage Tenebrae answered, “This is how my relationship with Treehome started, too. Though my fuckup wasn’t nearly as large as yours, there are a lot of similarities.”

Erick blinked a few times. He almost pursued that conversation, but then he did not.

Yura answered Erick’s unasked question, saying, “We like to keep the archmages who swing through Treehome as happy as possible, and with as large of a working relationship as possible. If our relationships sour, we attempt to fix them. If our relationships turn to poison, then we will kick you out, and then ban you from all interactions with Treehome. We prefer to never take the steps beyond that one, but we are a nation of millions, and archmages are never as defended as they think. We are a long way from those final steps, Archmage Flatt. I don’t want to see that day ever come, because you are ever so useful to us, and to the rest of the world.”

Peron frowned at no one in particular, but also directly at Erick.

Bloodwoo said, “Even if your murder of all the Shades is but another act of Melemizargo, we do not believe that you are his man—”

Peron interrupted him, saying, “They might not believe what I see before me; that you are, in Truth, the High Priest of Melemizargo. But they will see, in time. We will all see, soon enough.”

Bloodwoo continued, again, “Unlike the minority of my colleagues, we believe you are just a convenient tool for Melemizargo at the moment. But we also believe that you are a convenient tool of Koyabez and Phagar. A pull of deific proportions weighs upon your life, Archmage Flatt, as has happened for many archmages before you.”

Tenebrae smirked.

“Today, the casualties of your blood-soaked Worldly Path have been those who would call themselves the enemies of all.” With pointed words, Chieftain Bloodwoo-Nosier said, “Do what you can to ensure that this Fate of your Truth remains true tomorrow, and on the days which are yet to come.”

A chill wind blew.

Ah. So they knew of his Worldly Path? For how long?

Had Erick been wrong to try for a Worldly Path vacation?

With a dozen unasked questions weighing on his mind, and too many eyes staring at him, waiting, Erick spoke the only words that anyone on that platform wanted to hear, “I will.”