Ar'Kendrithyst

Jane sat at the stone table in the underground bunker Erick had carved under the prairie, eating fruits and cheeses she had bought from some town some long ways away. Rats and Teressa ate, too, but Poi did not. Erick’s main guard stood to the side of the room, Meditation showing multiple lines of intent radiating around the man’s sapphire scaled head; a slight difference in the ambient mana, and not nearly as clear as how Jane saw through her spider’s eyes. Erick was slightly jealous of how a shadowspider saw the world, truth be told. Jane had thought that was hilarious, when Erick had mentioned it before.

Teressa and Jane both turned to Erick, noticing he was back in the room with them.

“Done with Ophiel?” Jane asked, “Ready to see the people in charge, then go home?”

Erick said, “There are a lot of undead out there. I could gather up a lot more.” He added, “And I could help them recover their farms… But I should probably coordinate that with them, if they even know how to coordinate.” Erick said, “This battle was a shit show. Wilhelmina showing up was great, but what happened after that?”

Jane nodded sadly, saying, “Assassins killed at least five high ranking army dudes that I know of, and all three of their Mind Mages. Most of the assassins didn’t get away, but they didn’t need to; the damage was done.”

Erick felt his heart sink.

Jane continued, “You don’t have to clean up everything yourself. In fact, you shouldn’t.” She added, “This isn’t your homeland and if you do more than what you’ve already done, your neutrality in the Quiet War is going to come into question.”

Erick felt the Silver Star pinned to his chest. It wasn’t hot or cold. Erick frowned, saying, “I don’t think that’s true. Besides: these people need help and I can give them that help, with practically no effort.”

Jane turned to Teressa and Rats, asking. “Do you think there’s going to be a problem?”

Teressa shook her head, saying, “Not with Silverite.”

Jane scrunched her face. “Really?”

Teressa added, “Not after today’s events, and probably not if Erick chooses to help with a recovery effort.” She looked to Erick, saying, “If he chose to stay, though. That would be a big problem.”

Erick shook his head, thinking about the people at the party last night, talking about him like he was some rube to be played like a fiddle. “I’m not staying in human lands.” And then he thought about being forced to fight incani, either because the rulers in charge declared it necessary, or because the incani decided he needed to die for choosing the humans’ side. “I won’t be a part of this war.”

Rats grimaced.

Jane looked to Rats, saying, “You look like you disagree with Teressa, Rats? Will there be a problem with the incani in Spur?”

Everyone except Poi turned to Rats; Poi was still in the midst of a lot of [Telepathy].

“I don’t know.” Rats said, “Those two leaders over in the Wasteland Kingdoms— King Porli and Queen Tiz— They chose to provide intel and aid to kill the Halls of the Dead, but only because of a Kill and Exterminate Quest, and that might have been a smokescreen. It’s happened before. Some big event comes along and one side or the other capitalizes on it, and then the response is all guile and treachery that makes the whole thing a lot worse.”

Teressa hummed, then said, “Yes. There is that. That king and queen likely helped to harm, didn’t they?”

“Uh?” Jane asked, “Explain, please.”

Rats stressed, “The Halls would have summoned a Breach Demon, and they could not have done that without direct assistance from Hell itself. You two must not know this, but the summoning of a Breach Demon is a massive, far reaching historical event.” Rats thought for a second, saying, “I think… Yeah. The prevention of a Breach Demon is a historic first. Once they get all the pieces together, a Breach Demon is summoned; I don’t think there’s ever been an interrupted summoning before.”

Erick asked, “Really?”

“I know that a Kill and Exterminate Quest is historic...” Jane asked, “But Breach Demons, too?”

“Yes! Even rarer, too. A lot of people have to die in a specific way for that summoning to happen.” Rats said, “What makes them so bad is that Breach Demons summon demons directly from Hell into mortal bodies, killing the person inside and replacing their soul with little more than a gesture. Entire cities fall overnight.”

Teressa hummed, then added, “And the Breach Demon would have been Parox Geller, but also not. Not technically.”

“Yeah!” Rats said, “That asshole would have gotten around the Kill and Exterminate Quest by already dying once. He would have been in the perfect position to lead a war through the Greensoil Republic. He already knew everything about this land.” Rats added, “All I’m saying is that those bombs in the Queen Vine? What if Parox had planned on detonating them and killing the Queen himself? With all those new levels he’d be unstoppable.”

Jane said, “I still don’t understand.”

Erick said, “Thank the gods I’m not the only one.”

Jane asked, “Explain demon summoning to me, please.”

Rats got a sudden desperate look in his eyes, but it vanished as Erick looked to him for an answer.

Teressa crossed her arms and looked at Rats, too; her helmet was off, she was frowning slightly.

Rats controlled himself, and said, “When demons are summoned to Veird they arrive with all of their Stats and Skills and Spells they had in life, but they can’t gain anything else because they’re not really here. But when demons are called with a high-tier summoning, they are granted a real, unused body that is their own. They can Matriculate again.” Rats said, “They start at level 0, but they have an entire previous life —all those Stats and Skills and Spells— backing them up at the start.”

Teressa’s frown deepened, but she nodded. “Yup. Breach Demons are bad news.”

“What?” Jane said, “No! Shouldn’t they get knocked down to level 0? All the way knocked down, I mean?”

Rats said, “What they tried to do today was a mish-mash of summoning a being with powers all their own, and creating a new person to integrate into the Script. I don’t know why this is the way it is, just that it is.”

Jane sat back in her chair, thinking.

Teressa grunted, saying, “One person with 300 points to their name can do a lot.”

Jane asked, “Can anyone reincarnate?”

Erick looked to Jane. She had just used the word Erick was thinking of, but while Erick was stuck trying to remember the corresponding word in Ecks, Jane had just used the English word, instead.

Rats frowned. “Reincarnate? What’s that?”

Teressa said, “Never heard that word before.”

“I don’t know the word for it in Ecks, but what you just described is reincarnation,” Jane said. “A process where an old soul is granted a new body, gaining the ability to grow again from the beginning but retain all of its former power.”

“You guys have a word for this? We just call it high-tier summoning.” Rats looked from Jane to Erick, saying, “Are you two reincarnated?”

Erick instantly said, “Doubt it.”

Jane looked to Erick, saying, “You believe all this mystical stuff in a way you never did before, but you don’t believe in reincarnation?”

“Magic wasn’t real back home, Jane.” Erick said, “Souls weren’t either.” He paused. He said, “But now… I don’t know. I guess souls would fit in new bodies custom made for them? Sure. And I guess undead are also soul-trapped people, or something. So sure? Reincarnation? Sure. Why not. How about resurrection, too?”

Teressa shook her head, mumbling some words in a language Erick had never heard as she made some fast warding sign with a hand.

Jane said, “I looked that up. They don’t have [Resurrection].”

Rats remained quiet.

Erick said, “They have to have [Resurrection], Jane. If all it is, is putting a soul back in a container, isn’t that [Resurrection]?” He added, “I bet its one of Phagar’s divinely restricted magics.”

“That is untrue,” Rats finally said.

Everyone looked to him.

Rats said, “In this specific area, I am a healer who knows what he’s talking about.” Rats stared at Erick, saying, “All souls begin to deteriorate upon death, with the larger level souls deteriorating faster than lower level souls. Unless care has been taken ahead of time to prevent this deterioration, and you’re not dealing with the rigid soul of an incani or a human destined for Celes, which is outside the scope of [Resurrection], the most you can hope for is to bring back something that looks and sounds like someone who has died. Souls deteriorate fast.” Rats frowned, saying, “Don’t ever try to bring back someone who has died; they won’t be the person you were hoping for.”

Erick sat in silence. Rats had some secrets, didn’t he? Well... Erick wasn’t about to go poking at what seemed like a rough subject for—

“How do you know all this? That’s more than I was able to uncover. They wouldn’t let me look at the locked up books on necromancy.” Jane asked, innocent as can be, “So you’re a necromancer?”

Rats huffed, saying, “Not everyone who knows how necromancy works is a necromancer.” He looked at Jane, saying, “You’re certainly pretty good with those shadows. Are you a Shade?”

Jane went utterly still. Rats just stared at her. The air charged, but a moment passed, and no one said a word.

Jane said, “Sorry. I didn’t mean to— Sorry.”

Rats just looked away. “Don’t worry about it.”

More moments passed in silence.

Poi came out of his trance, saying, “We should go back home. As soon as possible.”

Everyone instantly turned to him, but Erick was the first to ask, “What’s happening?”

“There are telepathic pulses of people looking for us.” Poi said, “We’re not in danger; I think they just want to speak to you, Erick. They’re people from the party last night and they have paperwork.”

Erick leapt out of his chair. “Let’s get going!”

- - - -

“We apologize for not attending to you in a location appropriate for your station, Archmage Flatt,” Duchess Wilhelmina said, seated upon one of two plain, brown stone thrones, in a brown stone room. She added, “It will take months to sort through and repair the rubble of the actual White Palace, so we hope you don’t mind.”

Cyril sat beside his grandmother, upon a second brown stone throne a meter away from the Duchess. Yetta stood by Cyril’s side. All of them seemed to be wearing their best. Bright green for Wilhelmina, and white and gold for Cyril, while Yetta wore sunshine yellow [Conjure Armor].

This throne room was part of a larger castle-like structure built on the land to the north of the previous stone towers, north of the battlefield. The afternoon sun shone across the room, through large glass-less windows, as a cool breeze flowed through the space, bringing a slight scent of offal into the somber chamber.

Erick and company had walked through several large rooms, below this throne room, to get up here. Down there, the rooms were filled with bloody cots occupied with soldiers, while nurses and doctors and priests attended all those who managed to live through the battle, but who were still greatly injured. Triage had ended hours ago. Longer care came next. Cremations had already begun; the humans of the Greensoil Republic didn’t like to leave bodies lying around for necromancers to steal.

Erick stood in the middle of the throne room, with his people at his back and his daughter at his side, and said, “Sorry I couldn’t help more. I understand that there were assassins this morning, which made communications difficult.”

Cyril spoke, “We apologize for not including you more in the battle operations. I don’t think you ever met Captain Denarth. He was supposed to be at that party last night, but he was detained by readying the troops. He was the man in charge of the coordinated armies. Assassins got to him first.”

Yetta said, “That was the reason I burst in there this morning. I was… running off half-prepared.”

“I heard about the assassinations after the fact." Erick said, "I am sorry for your losses.”

“Thank you for your understanding.” Wilhelmina said, “But now that the battle is over and the enemy is routed, there’s still the matter of reconciliation for that unfortunate spot of almost-assassination that almost reached you in Spur. To that end, I invite you to my estates in Greendale, and to take audience with the Viridian King. You stopped a Breach Demon; this requires celebration, and if we don’t celebrate a victory then all we have is the horror of the event.”

“Ah.” Erick did not want to go to a party; probably not for a while. He changed the subject, “I was just hearing about those Breach Demons. That’s… Quite good that it wasn’t summoned, wasn’t it?”

Cyril said, “Yes. The danger posed by the Halls of the Dead had been underestimated at every turn.”

“You’re a Hero of Humanity, Archmage Flatt.” Wilhelmina said, “It would be wonderful if you would allow us to treat you as such.”

Erick lowered his head, slightly smiling, saying, “Thank you for the compliment, but I cannot accept. I can’t be a hero to the Greensoil Republic without becoming a villain to the Wasteland Kingdoms. And I live in Spur. I hope you understand.”

Yetta frowned, sadly, but saying nothing.

Wilhelmina calmly said, “I understand your answer, but it is dangerous to get involved with those incani. We sent an assassin after you, but they sent Shades. Until you were declared ‘planar’, they were working in concert to make your life hell, just because of who you are.”

Erick remained firm, “I would prefer to remain neutral in this Quiet War.”

Yetta blurted, “They tried to summon a Breach Demon! If they had their way, we would all be dead.”

A flicker of [Telepathy] passed through the air between Yetta and Cyril. She went quiet, though her divine inner fire of a Champion flexed outward. After a moment, the fire inside of her calmed. If Erick hadn't been looking with Meditation, he would have never have seen it flex outward at all.

Cyril changed the subject, “We wish to employ your [Exalted Rain] to fix some of the land around Odaali for a period of several hours a day for one month. Would you help us in rebuilding our nation?”

“Yes.” Erick said, “I can leave some Ophiel here and they can do the majority of rain themselves, but they will be raining over smaller plots of land than before.”

Cyril nodded. “That is acceptable. Five Ophiel, then? And how about those gems? 500?”

“Three Ophiel, who can hang out above this castle; just send me a message when you figure out exactly what you want out of this. I’ll send you some gems another day.” Erick said, “We’ll see from there.”

“Thank you, Archmage Flatt,” Cyril said.

Wilhelmina said, “We wish you safe journey, and to know that you will have friends in Odaali, should you ever need us.”

Yetta stepped forward, saying, “We couldn’t have won this war without you, Archmage. Your power was crucial; as well as your willingness to do what needed to be done.” She added, “I had severe doubts at the beginning, what with the Avowed Pacifist... stuff—” She paused. She half-shouted, “Those!—” She stopped herself. She blinking hard, her lips crushing against each other like she was holding back something that would shatter the tense moment into a deadly, cutting thing.

Erick saw her have this emotion, and it was easy to put together all the pieces of why she would feel the way she felt. Erick understood, in the vague sort of way that one understands history, exactly what had been prevented this day. He also understood, in a lot more solid way, and from seeing the bodies and the land and the war, how much Yetta had lost, and how much it had hurt her. When he looked to Cyril and Wilhelmina, he saw something similar to Yetta’s emotions, but much more schooled, try to hide away from their faces.

As the tense silence stretched, Yetta broke that silence, by asking, “Do you know why we came to you, for help with this Daydropper quest?”

There were a dozen reasons Erick could think of off the top of his head. He picked one, saying, “Because Atunir told you to?”

Cyril and Wilhelmina sat straighter.

But Yetta simply chuckled, and said, “Not many people would guess at the hand of a goddess right away, but you’re not most people.” She spoke through her emotions, saying, “Before Planter added himself to the Quest, Atunir told me to seek you out for guidance on the nature of the Daydropper, to ask after your use of Withering to improve our war effort. I failed to do this—” She held back angry tears, saying, “Because I failed to accept what was happening around me.” Her voice cracked as she asked, “If— If I had come to you, right away, would you have helped clean the land of Daydroppers?”

Erick answered honestly, “No. I would not—”

Yetta sighed in relief.

“—Because, as I have said, I will not join the Quiet War.”

“Why?” Wilhelmina asked. “You are not blind. You see what they did to us. You might be planar, but you’re still human. If you had landed on Veird in the Wasteland Kingdoms, you would have been dead in an hour.”

“That is likely true.”

Wilhelmina demanded, “Then why!”

“Because there are more dangerous things in this world than a war that only continues due to its own momentum.” Erick said, “Like the Shades. Like Melemizargo. Like the wyrms and all the other monsters out there that I don't even know about yet.” He added, “My eyes have been opened to a lot since living on Veird for this little while, but I don’t think I would ever approve of war just because my dead ancestors demanded it of me. It is very rare that both sides to an argument are equal in pain and truth, but as far as I can tell, this is one of those times.” He added, “What was the result of this war? Just death! Everyone lost. No one gained.”

Yetta laughed. “No one gained, but only because you were able to stop a Breach Demon.”

Erick said, “And next year when you get your own Particle Mages, you can buy [Call Lightning] and do the same.” He added, “Though I have no doubt that the Class Quest for Particle Mage is going to be crazy difficult.”

Wilhelmina’s face turned hard, but she just nodded, and said nothing.

Yetta stepped back, staring off into the distance for a long moment. She breathed hard, but then calmed.

Cyril said, “Thank you, Archmage Flatt, for your service.”

Erick said, “Glad to help.”

Yetta relaxed, asking, “Would you like a [Gate] back to Spur?”

“That would be great. Thank you.”

Yetta glanced to the left, toward where the sun spilled into the room. A yellow [Gate] blinked open, like sunbeams gently parting. On the other side of the [Gate] laid a bright, sandy land of crystal agave, and a desert city in the distance, surrounded by green.

Yetta bowed. Cyril and Wilhelmina leaned over in their thrones; it was sort of a bow. Erick stood tall, but nodded.

His party moved through the [Gate]. Erick left three Ophiel behind, then followed Jane through the portal to Spur.

From there, Erick and his Ophiel [Teleport]ed everyone directly to the house.

- - - -

The house rose in front of them, two mage towers, one north and one south, with three floors, and one lush green garden out front. Greyscale Spice Lady Ratchet and Force Mage Ramizi were in that garden, picking lemons and tending to the tomatoes, respectively.

Ramizi noticed Erick and the others. He stood up from the dark soil, saying, “Hey! You’re back.”

Erick smiled, happy to be back in Spur. As the others began walking into the house, Erick said, “Do you like the red tomatoes more than the purple ones?”

Ramizi held a red tomato in his hand, saying, “They’re different. Can’t turn them into sugars, though that industry is being shoved aside in favor of cactus sugar, anyway. That plant loves the platinum rain.” He added, “These red tomatoes go great in cheese pies and sauces, though.”

“Glad to see you return to us in one piece, Erick.” Ratchet had come over carrying a basket full of lemons, saying, “These lemons are great. I haven’t been able to grow any of the other citrus I usually carry in that rain of yours, but I’m working on tweaking these. Gonna grow my own crop. Soon as I get the flavors right, I’ll give you some.”

“I’d like that.”

Erick smiled, happy that people were enjoying the food he had made. Enjoying his food was much nicer than enjoying his ability to kill. He didn’t want to be the guy that Champions asked to destroy a Particle Magic threat, but he had become that guy, and that was just the way of the world.

He did not blame Yetta, Cyril, or Wilhelmina for their positions or what had been done to their people. Their anger was, if not good, then at least righteous. But righteous people can do a lot of harm in their pursuit of ‘good’. Erick wasn’t going to judge how the people in Odaali chose to live their lives, or what they did in response to what had been done to them; it wasn’t his place to judge any part of the Quiet War, and he desperately hoped it stayed that way.

The Silver Star on his shirt hung there, cool to the touch and still pristine. Erick didn’t feel pristine, though. He had killed a lot of people, today.

He spoke a little while longer with Ratchet and Ramizi, talking about what was happening around town, and then asked if they wanted to come inside for a drink or a coffee. Neither of them could stay; they were just there to check on the plants and keep them tended while Erick was away. Ratchet left first, saying it was time to start dinner.

“I’d like to come over and talk magic with you, in particular, Ramizi, maybe some other day?”

Ramizi smiled, saying, “Anytime.”

“Have you caught that necromancer out there, yet?”

Ramizi suddenly frowned. “No. They’re still out there, somewhere in the north, but they haven’t made a move and our [Familiar]s haven’t picked up anything.”

“Sorry to hear that.”

“Eh. They’re not currently murdering anyone…” Ramizi paused. He said, “Probably. They could be creating summons with souls, but with all this downtime, we’ve been able to investigate what happened in Nergal. This necromancer doesn’t seem like that kind of necromancer, so whatever they’re doing out there, it doesn’t seem to be hurting anyone.” He looked up, then toward his house. Eduard stood by the door. “Ah. Look. I gotta go. Talk to you later.”

“Later.”

Ramizi rushed off to his house with a basket of red tomatoes. Erick waved him farewell and went inside his own house.

Silverite showed up ten minutes later.

- - - -

Silverite and Erick sat around the stone table by the garden, beside the house, under a tall lemon tree. A breeze drifted through the trees and across the vines of red tomatoes and brown potatoes. The air nearby smelled of life, while the wind smelled of dry desert air.

The Mayor of Spur wore a comfortable, airy white dress, while her metal skin shimmered silver under the dappled afternoon light, shining through the trees.

“So.” Silverite started. “You prevented a Breach Demon’s summoning.”

Erick paused. He said, “That’s not where I thought this was going.”

“We’ll get there. I’m starting with this.”

Erick smiled a little, then said, “I understand that Breach Demons are bad, but I’m still at a loss for how bad they are.”

“They're horrific, but only for those who live in human lands. Imagine a Shade loosed upon the world. This is how bad they are.”

“… Is this going to be a problem? In Spur, I mean.”

Silverite was silent for a long moment. Erick let her have her time.

Eventually, she said, “Yes. But also no. This won’t be a problem for Spur, not immediately, anyway.” She took a moment, then said, “If some incani comes to you with a request on the level of Yetta’s, I urge you to consider all the angles, and then accept the request.” She spoke from what seemed like a personal, horrible experience, saying, “You might be required to kill humans to fend off the summoning of a Converter Angel.”

Erick felt a sudden, heavy tiredness come over him, as everything in the world seemed too difficult to bear. He slumped over the stone table, groaning. He wanted to crawl into bed and sleep for a week. He stayed like that for a moment. The moment passed.

He straightened up, and groaned out, “A Converter Angel? Really?”

Silverite spoke without rancor, “You don’t think that the incani were the only ones with crimes of this magnitude to their name, did you? It’s all but proven that the Wasteland Kingdoms became the Wasteland Kingdoms due to the actions of a Converter Angel. It’s not explicitly proven, though, because Converter Angels are much more capable of subterfuge than a Breach Demon.” Silverite said, “Breach Demons bring incani back to Veird, while Converter Angels forcibly create new members for the regimented Celestial Army. Hell is people, but Celes is order and purpose magnified.”

Erick sighed out. He asked, “Don’t they know that there are more dangers out there than each other?” He immediately said, “Sorry. That was childish. Of course they know. They just don’t see it.”

“Not all are blind, but it only takes a few to start a war.” Silverite said, “It takes many to end a war. One of these many is Koyabez. The God of Peace is one of the major blocks to the Quiet War, and is one of the major reasons that total war isn’t always happening all the time.” Silverite cracked a soft smile, saying, “Koyabez likely saw that a Breach Demon was on the table, and guided you into stopping the summoning.”

Erick touched the Silver Star on his chest, saying, “Is that why it never heated? Even when I was killing incani for a human success? It still feels wrong that he was okay with this.”

“Many people make the mistake in thinking that peace is always peaceful.” Silverite said, “If it was just the Halls of the Dead versus Odaali-in-Exile, then I doubt Koyabez would have done more than try to facilitate peace talks through his clergy." She added, "He never would have accepted that the Halls of the Dead were not a part of the Quiet War. Your Avowed Pacifist status would have been ripped from you in a burst of molten silver the second you decided to step through Yetta’s [Gate] to Odaali. Your Star would have been hot whenever the subject came up.”

Erick felt a minor spike of panic. “Really?”

Silverite continued, “But when it comes to Breach Demons and Converter Angels...” She said, “The Silver Star stands between Celes and Hell, in many ways, Erick. One of those ways is physically keeping them from crashing into each other. Koyabez, the Silver Star, does this through pure, constant force.”

“I’m not sure I like being a pawn to the gods, even one as… benevolent as Koyabez.”

Silverite laughed, small and happy, then said, “You weren’t going to say ‘benevolent’, were you?” She added, “He’s a pushy prick, for sure. Especially when it comes to his Avowed Pacifists. All the gods are like that, when it comes to those who have been annointed with their highest ideals. But I believe they have our best interests at heart.”

Erick thought for a moment, then asked, “Rats said that Breach Demons are always summoned once they get the parts together. Is that true?”

“Rats is almost correct, though popular fiction would have you believe that he is completely correct.” Silverite said, “In all the stories you read about Breach Demons or Converter Angels, there’s always some Hero of Peace trying to stop it before it happens.” She sighed, small and sad. “They always end up a caricature of tragedy, though. They never kill who they should. They never see the reality behind the schemer’s eyes. They never succeed in any of the stories or the songs.” She stressed, “But in history? In history, they do succeed, every now and again.”

Erick frowned at nothing in particular, saying, “How did you kill the Participation around here, for incani versus humans?”

Silverite smiled, saying, “That’s easy, and now that you have directly asked the question, and I feel I can trust you with this responsibility, I can answer.” The silver metal of her hand parted, revealing a tarnished four-pointed Silver Star; almost black. “You’re looking at the Head Priest of the Black Order.” The blackened Silver Star vanished back into her silver skin, as she said, “It used to be silver, but then I became ‘The Mayor’ of this neutral town 550 years ago. I’ve had to kill a lot of minor angels and demons along with their summoners and necromancers in order to get the rest of them to back off. That’s the only reason that Quiet War Participation is 1% around Spur.” She said, “You Silver Stars are the face, but we Black Stars are the fists.” She added, “That’s an open secret, but you should probably keep it under your shirt anyway.”

Erick sat, stunned. Silverite was a Head Priest to Koyabez? Did that mean that she knew what Koyabez had said to Erick about Melemizargo?

Erick whispered, “Koyabez told me that Mel…” Erick looked south, toward Ar’Kendrithyst, saying, “That he used to be friends with him. Back before the Sundering.”

Silverite nodded. “True. And the plan used to be to kill all the Shades and knock some sense into the Dark Dragon. But that never worked, not once since the Rise of Kendrithyst and the transformation of that once great city into a dead home for Shades, 950 years ago. A hundred and four years ago, that plan changed with the Great Purge. We managed to knock some sense into him, though the toll...” Silverite paused. She resumed, “Now, we’re waiting for him to come to his senses.” She said, “It’s a hard wait.”

A spark of anger came to life inside Erick. He said, “But… They do all those horrible things!”

Silverite spoke solemnly, “Yes. It’s a hard wait.”

Erick demanded, “How can you live with this decision?”

Silverite spoke softly, “There’s no decision, Erick. You might as well ask me if I like living with the fact that the sky is blue. Neither I nor you can do anything to change the color of the sky, nor can we kill all the Shades, and we especially can’t kill Melemizargo. Not even if we wanted to. Peace in strife is the only option.”

Erick’s anger gutted. He asked, “And if I found a way to rid Melemizargo of his insanity and kill all the Shades… Would you try to stop me?”

“Only if it looked like you were going to fail.” Silverite said, “And from where I’m sitting, right now, you will. So, as of this moment: Yes, I would stop you, and it would start with a banishment.” She sighed, heavy and tired, as she asked, “And now I must do my due diligence, and likely fuck over every single farmer that has come to Spur, looking for a new, peaceful life, and ask you:” She brought out a green truthstone from her other hand. “Are you going to try and kill the Shades before you are capable of actually following through with your stated goal?”

Erick said, “I will not directly move against them. Not until I’m sure I’ll win. And that includes against Melemizargo.”

The stone stayed green.

“There’s a lot of leeway in that statement. But...” Silverite sunk the stone back into her body, and stood up saying, “Good enough.”

Erick stood as well, saying, “They need to die for their crimes and what they would do if given the chance, Silverite.”

Silverite ignored what Erick had said, saying, “After today, after revealing that the Halls of the Dead were working on a Breach Demon as their true goal, a Converter Angel response will be coming. That’s how they do things up there. One of them tries some shit, the other responds.” She stressed, “Be ready, because the incani will call upon your help to kill that angel, and you must do it, if you wish to remain neutral in the Quiet War, and a citizen of Spur.”

Erick asked, “Why would they come to me?”

“Not only did you stop their Breach Demon—” Silverite gestured to the flat land of the Human District all around, saying, “But you’re one of the easiest to find, most famous archmages on the planet, Erick! Did you know that Guardmaster Merit has the rookies run daily random ‘find the spy’ missions all around the border of this district?”

Erick paled. “No. I did not know that.”

“Ask her about it some time.” Silverite dropped her hands to her sides, saying, “Don’t get me wrong. I think it’s great that you’re here. Everyone does. But have you met any other archmages, yet? I don’t think you have, have you? Or at least not in person.”

“… I understand.”

Silverite paused, looking at Erick. She said, “I don’t think you do, but I pray to all the Relevant Entities that you will.”

- - - -

Erick went right to Rats.

Rats was getting ready for bed, sitting down for some tea by the window of his room, reading from a book. He noticed Erick stand by the door.

“Hello? Something wrong?” Rats asked.

“Will there be a Converter Angel response?”

Rats froze for a moment. Then he calmly set down his book, and said, “A very high possibility. Maybe years away. Maybe less. The humans of the Greensoil Republic will look off continent for a mass of incani to soul-kill to power the summoning.”

“What stuff and spells do they need to create a Converter Angel?”

“Relics of some sort. I’m not sure. And the spell itself. The spell is tier 9, but anyone can buy up to it if they know the recipe, and no, I do not know the recipe.”

“And here’s what I don’t get: What’s the difference between summoning a Converter Angel and a normal angel?”

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

“A regular angelic or demonic summon is like…” Rats looked up. He said, “It’s like you copy a painting you saw at a gallery. Your painting isn’t the real painting, but it looks the same.” He quickly added, “The analogy breaks down a bit because with a summon, if you do it right, the original demon or angel can activate that body at a distance as though it was their own. A high-tier summon is like reaching through Reality and stealing that painting from the gallery, while you’re at your house. It’s not a perfect analogy, but it works.”

“… So that Breach Demon summoning— That [Gate] in the sky reached all the way to the moon?”

“Yes.” Rats said, “Hence them using so many souls to power the spell.”

“… Zago said that mana is not souls, and that souls are not mana.”

“That is true.” Rats said, “Souls hold a different sort of power than mana.” Rats quickly added, “But that’s what people have told me.”

“… Thank you very much.” Erick walked away.

Rats sat there. He did not pick up his book. He cradled his head in his hands, and whispered to himself, ‘Why’d I open my big mouth?’

- - - -

Erick laid in bed, staring at the ceiling, trying to come to grips with what had happened, and what would happen, bouncing around from one concern to another, to the next.

Who would come to him, and where would they try to create a Converter Angel?

Surely Koyabez would let him know, instead of just maneuvering him into position this time, right?

What sort of magics did the Shades use? Teressa had mentioned a few… But what was a [Comet Storm], and how would Erick counter that spell? How about a [Grand Abomination]? Was it a summon, or a twist of people into horrors? [Psychic Terror] seemed pretty straight-forward, but it also seemed like the most difficult to protect against; Erick had no idea how to defend against mind magic, and [Psychic Terror] had to be mind magic, right?

But Poi was likely a Mind Mage. Maybe? Could Erick ask him?

What was Teressa? A defensive person, for sure. Also rather defensive in general; she rarely talked, but she opened up rather well when they went wyrm hunting. Erick would have to go wyrm hunting again; not only to kill more dangers to the world, but to get Teressa to open up again. She was a lovely person all the time, but it was nicer when she talked.

And what was Rats? A healer, for sure; his healing spell was at range, granted False HP, and healed over time, so that had to be from a Class Feature. Maybe. What was his connection to necromancy? Erick wasn't worried, but he was curious.

…Erick’s repertoire of magic was sorely lacking. That was the main reason he had not spent any more of the points he had gained from…

From killing people.

Erick shoved that heavy emotion aside, and glanced at his Status.