Ar'Kendrithyst

The sun hung low on the sky, but still ascending. It was a nice, breezy morning, as Erick walked across the flat orange land of the Human District, toward the Mage Trio’s house. He passed his garden, smelling the air, loving the smell of lemons and greenery on the breeze and the scent of a freshly baked lemon cake in the stone basket in his hands.

He approached the front door, and it opened before he could knock. An icy fox appeared on the other side, like a child answering the door for their parent. Ophiel fluttered on Erick’s shoulder; eyes opening up to take in the sight of the other [Familiar]. The ice fox howled in tiny mews, calling backward into the house.

Eduard appeared in a blip of blue, next to his fox, looking at Erick with surprise on his face. “Uh! Hello?” He looked down to the basket in Erick’s hands. “Uh?”

Erick smiled, pushing the basket out to Eduard, saying, “As thanks for help with the Hydra, and to say that if you want anything out of the garden, that you can go ahead and take anything you want. Or Ramizi, can, anyway. He’s the only one of you that’s into plants, unless I’m mistaken.”

“You are not mistaken.” Eduard took the basket and lifted up the lid to look inside.

“It’s a lemon cake,” Erick said.

Eduard nodded, then shut the basket’s lid, saying, “You really should consider hunting Messalina with us. She is a menace.”

Erick smiled softly, saying, “I have no interest in denying someone her vengeance against those who killed her family.” He added, “But if you spot any monsters on Mog’s list, or any more aberrations like the Toxic Hydra: I’m only a [Telepathy] away.”

Eduard continued, undeterred, “As of right now, your potential Particle [Scan] spell is only one avenue for Messalina to use to find the Cinnabar Hand, but finding people in the Crystal Forest who don’t want to be found is exceedingly difficult. There’s no doubt in my mind that the Hand are laying low. They will not be found; they know who is after them.” Eduard said, “Eventually, Messalina will grow tired of her fruitless pursuit. She will start to make real monsters.” He stressed, “These monsters will attack every single person they find, and eventually Messalina’s plan to find the Cinnabar Hand will mutate even further. She will kill every single person she finds outside of the major cities of the Crystal Forest.”

Erick felt a sudden lethargy. “Please don’t be hyperbolic at me.”

“I have every reason to believe what I say. Though a few centuries have passed, she is the same as always, according to everything we have found.” Eduard said, “Time will tell which one of us is correct, and I just want you to know, now, that when the time comes, we will welcome your help in giving Messalina the justice she deserves for the crimes she has committed.” He sincerely added, “Thank you for the cake. Please enjoy your time in Oceanside.”

A sudden anger overtook Erick. He asked, “Why don’t you help her find the Hand? You cannot possibly believe that her reasons for leaving her jungle are wrong.”

Eduard frowned. He kept his voice even, saying, “The Cinnabar Hand is a known enemy factor taken into consideration everywhere. City Guards take care of all of that; and civilians are forbidden from acting on suspected impostors. Messalina is an outsized threat, living outside of the city, that spawns other threats.” He said, “Dopplegangers are murdered on confirmation, but it is up to adventurers and mages like you and me to deal with those like Messalina.”

Erick breathed deep. He said, “I came here for a few other reasons, too. I need a [Polymorph] potion for Oceanside enrollment. I want to buy one from you, or however Jane went through this process. Is [Reflection] just [Rebound] and [Ward]? And… I understand what you’re saying, Eduard. Really. I do. She killed random people in anger, and she doesn’t sound like the best person in the world. But right now, she is hunting hunters.”

Eduard said, “[Reflection] is indeed [Rebound] and [Ward]. Good luck. Ramizi is selling a brisk market of [Polymorph] potions. I can get you one; they’re a thousand gold and a grand rad. Or two grand rads. Whichever you prefer.” He paused. He added, “Messalina’s balance of souls is hundreds of thousands in the negative. Whatever she does in the future— whatever good she accomplishes will always be tarnished by countless lives taken before their time.”

“Are you talking about murders, or reinstating people in other bodies.”

Eduard blanked, then said, “There is no difference.”

Erick stood there. Then he gave a mental push to Ophiel on his shoulder. Ophiel blipped away in a smattering of white light. He reappeared in moments; Handy Aura holding the bright red grand rad taken from the red [Ward] wyrm, and one of the eight green grand rads taken from the Toxic Hydra. Eduard’s eyes went wide as he looked upon the bright red grand-rad.

“Uh.” Eduard said, “Just the red one, is fine.”

“Nonsense.” Erick took the grand rads with his own Handy Aura, and set them on the front step in front of Eduard. “The price is two. This is two.”

Eduard looked down to his icy fox [Familiar]. The blue fox blipped away and right back, daintily carrying a dark glass flask in his icicle-filled mouth. Eduard took the flask and handed it over. Erick took the potion. Pearlescent black light flowed inside, like warm honey. It almost looked sinister.

Eduard said, “You must drink it all at once and then nothing else for an hour. It helps to Meditate while the potion takes hold, making sure the change settles in like a fine liquor. If you don’t get it right your guts will spurt out of both ends for about an hour, but Ramizi’s potions have a ninety percent success rate.”

Erick held the potion in his hand, then said, “Thank you.” He asked, “Is Spur treating you three okay? I saw some other humans out in the fields the other day, but not much else besides that.”

“Spur is a fine city. The Headmaster has wanted agents out here for a while, but no one was willing to take the post, and subject themselves to the disharmony of the city and its neighbors. And then you showed up.” Eduard said, “It has been a wonderful experience, getting to know this Spur.”

Erick nodded, and held up the potion, saying, “Thank you.”

“Anytime, Archmage.”

- - - -

Erick sat in the sunroom. Poi stood to the side, watching. The rod of [Treat Wounds] and the [Polymorph] potion sat on the table in front of Erick.

Erick asked, “Was it just me, or did that feel like a particularly awful talk?”

“He did not invite you inside.” Poi said, “He is exceedingly angry, but he is good at hiding it. He was exactly as polite as normal city-life demands, and not a touch more than that.”

Erick frowned. “I thought so.” Erick asked Poi, “This thing with Messalina… What do you think?”

“I think Messalina needs to die for her crimes and that she is a threat to the security of this household. Taking into account her murder of murderers, and her… version of recalcitrance in her letters? I don’t know. She is an unknown factor, but many things are.” Poi said, “I cannot say, sir. But I do wish her the best in a speedy resolution to her vengeance.”

Erick breathed deep. He stared at the polymorph potion as he thought.

He said, “You know, Poi? In my world, historically, revenge was almost never the correct, best choice of action. Accomplished revenge makes the person think that their actions were justified, and upon getting their pound of flesh, they realized they only want more, against other real or imagined slights. Violence begat violence.” He added, “And there’s the fact that just ruminating on revenge makes a person crave additional violence. And there’s the fact that revenge never restored what was lost in the initial act of violence.”

Poi listened.

Erick turned to Poi, asking, “Is that thinking correct at all, here?”

Poi frowned slightly. He said, “I don’t know, sir. But even you had courts and justice, right? What are those, but revenge organized by the state? What are those, but a community coming together to say that a person’s revenge is the correct action to undertake?”

“There’s a degree of separation and communal judgment when a court is involved. It's not revenge.”

Poi said, “I can tell you right now that if Messalina showed up and asked for Spur’s help in locating the Hand we would be honor bound to execute her for her many, many, well documented necromantic crimes.”

Erick sighed out, saying, “Fuck.” He asked, “Is putting some willing person’s soul into a new body, murder?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

Poi frowned. “Because they died.”

Moments passed. Erick stared at the black potion, wondering if soul transferral really was murder, or not. Maybe he just wasn't understanding what 'soul transferral' truly meant. He decided to put those thoughts out of his mind for now.

He asked, “How bad were the letters Messalina sent us, warning us about the Headmaster?”

Poi said, “She is a self-involved cultist devoted to the temple of herself. But this does not make her wrong about at least one thing. The Headmaster is not Rozeta. He is not neutral. He takes a side, and never wavers.” Poi smiled, saying, “The Headmaster is rather famous for his desire to see both the moons of Hell and Celes destroyed.”

Erick would have laughed, if the subject wasn’t so heavy. He said, “That’s one way to end the Quiet War.” Erick picked up the black potion. It had been sealed shut with [Stoneshape]. With a bit of his own [Stoneshape], Erick unfurled the pinched-glass bottleneck. “Here’s to good resolutions, whatever they may be.”

“I hope so,” Poi said.

Erick downed the potion, all at once. It tasted of licorice and body modification, which was a very weird taste. Erick Meditated. Tingles and touches flowed through his body, under his skin, along his bones. Through his guts and further down. Like an internal, gentle massage, the potion did its thing.

And Erick Meditated, feeling the mana all around him, like a warm ocean. His own mana flowed out, as new mana flowed in.

After 45 minutes, the potion stopped squirming. A blue box appeared.