Ar'Kendrithyst

Killzone rose from his tub, gathering his body back to his normal shape, because someone was in his living room—

Erick was in his living room.

Right down there, several meters away, stood the Apparent King, the Wizard of Benevolence. Erick Flatt.

Killzone had not always been intimidated by Erick. Back when the guy was making rainstorms in Spur, before Last Shadow’s Feast, Erick and Jane had been a valuable archmage asset and a fantastic soldier. They were both a lot more than that these days. Erick had done what Killzone had never thought possible; he had ended the threat of Shades. And then he had gone a step beyond, and turned them into… Allies.

Though they would never be allies to Killzone. Not really.

And yet, Al was a Shade now, and Al had been a friend for many centuries. Though Al had needed to adopt several different guises to remain in Spur, he had done it well enough. And now Al was a piece of slag… And also a Shade. A slagging Shade.

Everything was different.

Everything was wrong.

Killzone had wanted to kill the Shades for… for too many reasons to count. He was mostly past that anger, though. Now, he was just listless. Sure, the Blue Corps had been able to take him in, but now what? Erick had solved the problem of the Red, too… for now. There weren’t even any more Claws to fight.

And now, the real war was beyond Killzone. Way too far beyond.

… Killzone got out of his tub anyway and then headed downstairs, taking his time.

He entered his own living room, saying, “Hello, Erick.”

Erick smiled like he usually did, but he had those Melemizargo-horns out and he was every bit as tall as Killzone was right now, so his smile was not nearly as kindly as he imagined it to be. “Hello, Killzone.” And then his smile faltered. “Why are you living in this tiny apartment at the edge of Anhelia’s Kendrithyst?”

Killzone looked around. He had a house at the top of a spire, yes, at the edge of ‘Queen’ Anhelia’s Kendrithyst, yes, and though it was small, it was actually prime territory. The walls were opaque with some minor spellwork and the windows opened out on a vast vista of bright red and purple kendrithyst crystal towers. Killzone had five whole rooms here in the city. That was a lot? It was a lot.

Not as much as some, but Killzone was far, far beyond the need for opulence.

Killzone leveled his eyebrows at Erick, saying, “It’s better than Forward Base. I like it?”

Erick paused.

Killzone waited.

And then Erick said, “Well! I just came by to say hello, and now I’m stepping away.”

And then he did exactly that.

Poof!

Gone!

Killzone stood in his living room for a long while, wondering what that was all about.

It wasn’t like Killzone had other things to do, so he could take some time to just think for a while.

Hours later, Killzone still couldn’t figure out what Erick had been on about—

Anger suddenly crept in to Killzone’s mind like an unwelcome guest, knocking over thoughts and dirtying the carpets with their feet, and showing Killzone how bad he had let the place become.

Killzone sighed, muttering, “I used to be involved in ten thousand plots and never had time to think like this at all.” … And then he was really angry. He furrowed his brow, and looked down at his empty hands. “What the fuck is wrong with me?”

Where did his fire go?

He had had a goal, and then Erick had taken that away from him, and now Erick took away his peace and quiet?

What the fuck?

And now Killzone was angry.

The first thing he did was check his [Ward]s, and yeah, they were all still intact. Even the anti-[Gate] [Ward]s and runic webs were still fully functional. Of course Erick could just slip through those without anyone being able to tell him otherwise! Fucking Wizards, fuck.

Killzone stormed out of his house, took to the sky, and stepped all the way into Spur.

He landed in Silverite’s office just in time to catch her walking in the door.

Silverite paused in the doorway. She was carrying papers. “What occurs?”

“Erick was in my house today.”

Silverite paused longer. And then she shut the door and activated the protections of her office, sealing them and their words inside, and preventing all [Scry]ing. They were the same protections as inside Killzone’s house, so a slag lot of good they’d do her if Erick was looking this way. If the Blue Corps were looking this way these protections also wouldn’t do shit. Those [Infinite Imaging] tables were… Well. They were amazing. Killzone wished he would have had one centuries ago…

And now Killzone’s thoughts were multiplying like they used to, back when he actually had things to think about.

Silverite set down her papers on her desk and asked, “Okay?”

Killzone frowned. “Just ‘okay’? What’s he up to, Silverite?”

“I have several guesses. Do you want to know my largest one? It has to do with Stratagold.”

Killzone almost walked out of the room. Instead, he solidified himself. “Tell me.”

Silverite said, “Solomon and those [Silver Heart] charms are only part of the real work that Erick and his repro are doing, and that work is happening in Stratagold. It doesn’t have an official name that I know of, but we’ve gotten leaks here and there, mostly from Anhelia. There are a lot of rumors in the Knowledge Mage circles. A lot of them are calling it the Un-Sundering Project…”

Killzone felt his entire being vibrate as he listened to Silverite speak of the impossible.

For the first time in centuries, his memories of Chernom felt some way other than regret.

He felt hope.

- - - -

Erick had no real idea what he had done, exactly, when he saw Killzone rush out of his house and head right to Silverite. The big guy disappeared into a Privacy bubble with the Mayor, and after a while, he went back to Kendrithyst and directly through the Geode Gate Network located by the Blue Corps. He went down to Stratagold.

Killzone never went to Stratagold.

What had happened there? No idea. Erick had some guesses. He left those guesses for other people to work out, because Killzone went right to the Anti-Red Project —which was going by many names these days— and he met with Solomon, and they settled in for a long talk.

Erick went to the archive room of House Benevolence.

According to some paperwork on powerful people that the House kept around, and which Erick had another, deeper look at, Killzone had been mostly listless, exactly as Erick had known him to be, but a few of the deeper, different reports had labeled him as ‘completely without direction at all’. That was a mite more serious than ‘listless’. Erick dug deep into the backlogs of that happening, to see a few different letters from Silverite, when she had invited him to various gatherings here and there, and how he had needed to forgo some of those for this or that reason. In two of those letters, she had specifically named Killzone as looking forward to seeing him… but Erick recalled one of those gatherings, and the guy had been distant the whole time.

… Had Erick been too busy —or too deep in the throes of [Onward]— to notice a brewing problem? To notice a friend who had needed help?

Yes, he had.

Shit.

And now Killzone was rapidly on the move, due to some Fate Magic cast by someone far outside of Veird, using powers that were beyond the Script... Wait. No. That was wrong. Those Ultimate Quests in the Core, which Nothanganathor had claimed credit for, were Fate Magic.

Rozeta had erased those Quests and rewrote them a while ago, calling upon the full weight of the Relevant Entities to rewrite them with her. And then she did that.

But the original ones had had no Red in them at all. Which was weird. Nothanganathor was either lying about making those Ultimate Quests, or he had claimed credit in a distant sort of way, or he was capable of doing things outside of Malevolence. Erick believed all three options were true, in their own way.

As for current-day Fate Magics, Phagar was doing Fate Magics to ensure Veird’s future, and he had even invited Erick over to learn some of that. Erick’s Lightning Path was already Fateful, and it had been enough to let him ignore actual Fate Magics for a while, but now Lionshard had worked Fate Magic on Veird from far, far away...

Hmm.

Erick put the archives back together, slipping reports and otherwise back under Privacy magics.

It was time to learn more about Fate Magic; to understand it himself from a godly perspective, and to also understand how such outside forces could possibly work such deep magics on a land that should have been protected.

It was a… relatively easy thing to accept that someone as Ascended as Lionshard could work magics on the entirety of Veird, from so far away and removed. It was also easy to accept that Nothanganathor could work Fate Magic at the beginning of the Script.

But could Nothanganathor work Fate Magic on Veird right now?

Erick imagined that answer as ‘Yes’ simply due to how Malevolence had been eating side realities, and yet, he hoped he was wrong about that.

- - - -

“Yes; Nothanganathor is working Fate upon Veird, purely due to acting from a larger realm; that’s how all the strongest Fate Magic is done, but that is not the whole story at all.” Phagar continued, “We’re still alive, and the future is looking better than it was. If there was a worrying development, I would have alerted people. As it is, for right now, Nothanganathor is looking at us, and waiting. From his perspective, he has already won.”

Erick had stopped in at the Grand Unified Church in Candlepoint, and gone to the Hall of Gods in the back. He wasn’t one step into the hallway before he found the hallway changing, and the space ahead transforming into a fractal geometry, with the floor made of stained glass. It was still the Hall of Gods, but it was not that place at all. As Erick stepped fully into the godly domain he left the church behind, and now he was here, with Phagar, in the God of the End and Time’s domain. Phagar, as always, looked like the person who he was talking with, which was Erick in this case, but a bit greyer around his shadows.

Erick took in what Phagar said, thought for a moment, then he furrowed his brow, and said, “He’s fattening us up for something.” Erick connected a few very distant dots, making extrapolations along the way, “It’s like when he claimed to ‘let me continue’ after we made Yggdrasil… He wants to become an ultimate god, taking everything everyone makes and claiming it for his own power, in order to spread that power outward and grab even more power. He’s not in any rush, but he will try to crush us if we go outside of his parameters, and yet, of course we can go out of his parameters, and we do that all the time. So what specific thing is he fattening us up for?” Erick looked to Phagar. “The reverse-Sundering magics that Solomon is pioneering?”

Phagar waved a hand to the side, and the fractal Hall of Gods shifted into ten thousand different reflections of Elsewhere, and of here, in this changing Veird.

It was a tapestry of possibility.

In one image lay Veird, hovering in the expanse of space with several bite-like crunches taken out of its shells, carving all the way through to the Old Surface and the Underworld to the Core, which was gone. The planet looked dead, and yet, as the image shifted, it revealed the land of Fenrir behind Veird, and Fenrir was awash in light and life and blue water and green land and so many different sunlights, like moons, spinning around the outside of Fenrir. The dead husk of Veird was just one planet in a gridwork of sunlights that surrounded the entire surface of Fenrir. Erick imagined being a person on the surface of Fenrir, looking out at the stars, and up at Veird’s onion-like corpse up there in the heavens, instead of the usual sunlights that roamed the land.

In other images Veird survived, whole and intact, and Fenrir was broken and falling apart, but people from Veird went out all the time to salvage what remained and fix what they could. It was a slow process. Fenrir was already looking inhabited in several locations, though, like motes of color on wide, black expanses, so they were having some success.

Other images had Red forests growing everywhere, both on Veird and inside Fenrir, to gaze upon the Shadowed Sun, where Nothanganathor’s body almost fully enveloped the entire surface. He was a backlit snake wrapping the entire illuminated thing; much larger than he was right now.

Those Red images were most of the images.

There was only one image where the sun inside Fenrir was Full Dark, and looked more like a black hole than anything else. In that space, in that place, there lay a Gate into the Dark Universe. The light surrounding that black hole was iridescent white, and that light shone down on the inside of Fenrir, on lands filled with people. Cities and forests and oceans stretched everywhere. It was the most beautiful thing that Erick had ever seen.

Phagar spoke, “In the majority of futures, Nothanganathor wins. He has too many ways to win and we have too few major resources. And yet… There are ways for us to win. Most recently —as in today— one truly good future has appeared.”

Phagar expanded the fractal vision of the Perfect Outcome of this war, and Erick saw a remade Grand Wizard’s Tower at the very center upon which all the rest came next. He saw himself seated at a round table, and over there was Solomon and Destiny, their chairs closer together than the rest. The other people in the other seats were less clear.

But in one chair, Erick saw something… weird.

Killzone sat in that chair, and yet, he did not. The image flickered. The image solidified. When it solidified, it did so in parts, with bits of the big black orcol-shaped man’s body stitching into place, like someone was taking a platinum needle and platinum thread and sticking the man down. Killzone spoke in his southern drawl, all happy about whatever it was they were discussing. Erick couldn’t tell what the discussion was about, and sometimes Killzone almost wiffed away, like a tattered bit of cloth not able to hang on anymore. When that Killzone vanished, platinum Fate Magic stuck him back down into place before he could fully escape this Fate.

Erick saw what was happening, and he said to Phagar, “We’re not supposed to say his name, otherwise he will Ascend to godhood, and that’s not nearly as nice here as it is in the Painted Cosmology.”

Phagar looked at Erick, judging his words. He found those words acceptable. He nodded. “Very well, then I’ll keep this Fated Future to myself.” He turned back to the fractal image of the Grand Wizard’s Tower conclave. “This is where ‘Tom’ is putting his Fate Magic to work. Do you understand what is happening here?”

“Rather sure it’s about forcing an effect that is so far distant that it might not even happen, in a version of Veird that is accessible to outsiders.” Erick said, “That has implications about the sanctity of the Script and other things… Too many to take them all at face value, I think.”

“That’s the gist of it.” Phagar said, “You can’t see it in this small picture, but if we expand our glance…”

Phagar expanded the picture, and Erick witnessed a version of Veird wreathed in platinum glows. The Grand Wizard’s Tower was stitched onto the world through platinum workings. The entire world spun around the axis of Yggdrasil, who had platinum roots connecting to his different bodies, located on different parts of the planet. Here and there, upon Fenrir’s much larger surface, Platinum lines glinted in the deepest of oceans, and inside the strongest of storms.

Lionshard’s spellwork wrapped the entire Good Path of Veird and Fenrir.

‘Stitching’ Killzone into place in a seat at the Grand Wizard’s Tower was just one small aspect of the much greater magic happening all around.

“Holy shit,” Erick muttered.

“Yes. You can see that ‘Tom’s magic is much, much larger than just Killzone.” Phagar said, “That friend you made in Margleknot is some friend, Erick, and yet I get the impression that this is just something that he is doing on a whim. Or at least the magics he’s guiding upon this section of Infinity are not nearly as tight as they could be. It’s all very loose.”

Phagar expanded the image again, this time into a few different side realities.

Those platinum threads on the bigger picture extended out into side realities, where they met ruinous Red magics... and kinda just hung there. The Red tried to eat at the Platinum, but it got nowhere at all.

Lionshard’s image of the Good Path remained strong.

And yet, if Lionshard wanted, he could have stitched a whole Good Path between the current Veird and that other Veird, couldn’t he? The fact that Erick could only see bare threads instead of a full tapestry-road on the Good Veird leading outward meant that… Yeah. The Good End lay there, but it was not fully present.

That was…

That was good, actually. Self determination was important.

Erick smiled at that, feeling his heart soar in his chest. “Tom’s a good guy— Technically neutral, I think. But overall good.” Erick scanned the fractal images. “So how does the current Veird connect to this one?”

“There is no proper road. We have to get there ourselves.” Phagar moved the images around, bringing up an image of a Ruined Red Veird on the left, and the Platinum Veird on the right. Erick’s stomach dropped as he saw that comparison, and a moment later, Phagar confirmed Erick’s fears, saying, “Our current Path is on the left.”

“… That’s some distance between the two, isn’t it.”

“And that’s where we come in.” Phagar dismissed the images, and they were back in the fractal Hall of Gods, but there was a nice little bench sitting to the side, in a spot of sunlight, on a riverside. The river glittered in front of the bench, filled with possibilities, and Phagar gestured to the sitting spot. “Let’s talk about the best ways to use Fate Magic, and compare them to what you currently do with your Lightning Path.”

Erick had come here for a Fate Magic lesson, so he sat down on the bench beside Phagar, and listened.

Phagar said, “The first thing to learn about proper Fate Magic is not to get hung up on the details. What Tom is doing is setting a distant, achievable goal. What your Lightning Path does is help you make the best decisions for the near future. Tom directs the river itself. You direct a boat upon the river.

“As a boat, you can see rather far ahead, and you can even direct your own path.”

The riverside turned into a small boat, with Erick sitting in the driver’s seat, looking ahead, as the river expanded from horizon to horizon. Red Rapids curled here and there on the world-wide river, and Erick saw his Lightning Path curl around the danger. He moved the wheel of the boat left, and avoided a rock he hadn’t seen until it was right there in front of him. The rock hadn’t been Red, but it had still been there.

Phagar sat in the passenger’s seat, saying, “Most people only get life rafts.”

Erick saw as Killzone, Jane, Solomon, and others, appeared on the horizon-spanning river, all of them clinging on to floating logs, or wooden rings, or an inflatable pool chair with a tiny oar in his hands, in Solomon’s case. All of them made it through their own Red Rapids okay, though wetter than they had been before they went through the Red, sputtering and clambering to stay afloat. Some of the others, the people Erick did not know, got swallowed by the Red Rapids.

Mog, the Guildmaster of Spur, vanished under the Red.

She was not the only one lost to the River of Time.

Erick felt his heart go out to her. He asked, “Could we pluck her out, this way? I am a Paradox Wizard, after all.”

“This is simply one incorrect representation of the world, so it’s not close enough to a true oversight to allow you to pluck someone out of time. Some people have found success with this sort of visualization of time, though I find it rather too simple to get anything real done.” Phagar said, “Also, you’re a boat right now, but you could be so much more than that.” Phagar waved a hand. “You could learn to travel through Time itself.”

The boat grew wings and the river-ocean dropped away, becoming so much more than that.

Erick could move the boat all around the river, moving backward, against the flow, if he wanted.

Each ribbon of water passing through the river was a person, an individual worldline, all flowing together toward the uncertain future. Each worldline began from the eddies and flows of other worldlines, and ended in a dispersion, into the creations of others. If they were lucky, they caused a lot of ripples and tangles and creations, but sometimes people dropped away into the Red, leaving a rip at the fabric of the ocean. Sometimes a worldline flowed from the beginning to the end of the river-ocean, avoiding all the Red, or other, simpler ends; those were the immortals, tangling with other worldlines and adjusting the river-ocean in small movements here and there.

Most worldlines were relatively short.

Phagar said, “This scenario is useful for seeing the future that Tom envisioned, and the current Path that Nothanganathor has carved for us.”

Far ahead, in the future, the river-ocean changed.

Erick saw a Platinum ocean over there, beyond the horizon. All the ocean was threaded with platinum Fate.

But between here and that platinum horizon lay mountains of Red Lightning, jutting up from the ocean. The ocean died when it reached those mountains, and that which did not die, went around. Some of the worldlines in the water ate away at the Red, but there was too much Red to ever fully erode.

The boat sailed in the sky over the worldlines of Veird, and Erick watched it all flow by. He did not see where this current ocean connected to the platinum horizon at all. The Platinum Horizon lay beyond a crescent of Red.

Erick said, “Nothanganathor is determining the flow of the river itself, just like Tom, but differently.”

Phagar began, “Time Magic and Fate Magic have a way of getting complicated, fast, and rapidly flowing out of control, therefore forging an end-goal is just as important as threading all current difficulties. For some, forging an end-goal is like making a light on the distant horizon. This is what your friend Tom did. This creates the most variable sort of future, and is by far the hardest to counter. That is why, even though the river is diverted by the Red, the Platinum Horizon is still out there.”

Erick suddenly connected a few disparate points. “Nothanganathor is just like me; working on the near-future— Or I’m just like him, for Benevolence goes wide and counteracts a great deal. He doesn’t have a Malevolent Sky, does he? He’s a leviathan. He has a Malevolent Ocean.”

Phagar smiled. “I believe so.”

Less sure, Erick continued, “And he can’t do end-goal forging?”

“Hmm… There’s some nuance to that, but broadly, yes.” Phagar said, “When you made Benevolence, you worked it to point toward endless good horizons, so your Lightning Path can alter on a whim and aim at a different good horizon. This is how Benevolence works for you, and for other accomplished users of that Element. Bad ends are easily navigated for Benevolence.

“When Nothanganathor made Malevolence, he aimed at a horizon that led him toward becoming God of Dark Magic, so while he could move around as he wanted on the ocean, he only ever had one direction to aim for. He’s spent ten thousand years going after this goal, Erick. He’s close, and he even has control over the space of this final battle. That territorial control —that Authority— is why he is able to direct Veird so well. There is still hope, but it’s a difficult path ahead.” Phagar looked to the Platinum Horizon, past the Red Tidal Mountains… And then he looked further. “But many paths simply end in Red.”

Far, far beyond the Platinum Horizon lay the end of the ocean, where everything turned to Red.

Erick realized, “Ah. We can’t sit back and build and build until we think we’re ready. We have to act now, because he’s also growing stronger with every passing minute.”

“We have some time, but not an eternity.” Phagar looked to Erick. “Time enough to decide on a Fate for Veird. Do you want to accept the fate that Tom has written for us? Or shall we forge our own?”

Erick found his answer truly easy to say, “I’m fine with Tom’s image of the future. The problem is that we can’t head directly in that direction, because the Red has trapped that way forward, so we need to have enough True Wizards to burst through those Red Mountains. The reverse-Sundering magics will help a lot. Figuring out ways to make individuals immune to being wiped away by the Red, and taking the fight to Nothanganathor himself, will do more.” Erick said, “What I want most from Fate Magic is to figure out how to send out a soldier and know that they’ll be able to come back home. Can we do that?”

Phagar said, “There are ways to ensure that a person dies on a certain date. If you set that date far, far in the future, then causality warps to ensure that happens. That is the extreme case, though, and such a magic would not work well against Nothanganathor due to him seeing those enchantments. He would subvert such people with Frozen Time, or other such maladies.” Phagar said, “Simple plans often fail in the face of overwhelming and correct strategy.”

Erick tensed. He chuckled nervously. “Ah... ha…” And then he added, “We need to focus on making people immune to him, and to learn how to fight as True Wizards to have a chance against him. Let’s fill out those seats of that Grand Wizard’s Tower. Killzone is one. Sitnakov could be another, according to what I heard.” Erick began, “I’m not sure about Kiri, but she could be...”

They spoke for a few hours.

When Erick left, he did not leave with so much of a plan, but he did have a rather well-rounded strategy, and a new appreciation for Fate Magic.

- - - -

Solomon sat down across from Leeanne Fieldfallow, who had the professional designation of ‘Knowledge Mage #Charme-B-789’. She had been looked at simply because her official Knowledge Mage number was the same as Veird’s Layer number, and now she was here, because some things were almost like Fate, it seemed.

Leeanne was a mousy woman, of brown hair and brown eyes. Those brown eyes went wide as she looked at Solomon, in the flesh, recognizing what was happening even before Solomon said anything. She gaped, and then tears started rolling.

Leeanne whispered, “This is a real thing. I’m really getting approved.”

“Yes, this is happening, and yes, you got approved,” Solomon said, spreading papers across the table between them.

Leeanne sobbed hard for a good half a minute before she came back to herself.

Solomon nodded, then he continued, “I know you’ve been kicked around by all the vetting processes, but I’m going to kick you around some more, so you know what you’re in for. This is a finicky process. It works better if you can make it work. That means people heading into the process with full knowledge of what is happening, and full knowledge of how to make it happen better, make it work better. You’ve gone through the interviews and the vettings and we think you have the capability.”

Leeanne wiped away tears.

And then Solomon set a silver bracelet onto the table between them. It was a solid working of magic; it was not a bracelet at all. Leeanne stared at the bracelet, not knowing what it was. But then she glanced at Solomon’s black tattoo around his wrist that was not a tattoo at all.

She realized something deep, in that moment.

Solomon explained anyway, “This is a [Shackle of Memory and History]. It is a magic of the Mind and [Silver Heart]s and even more than that. When I walk out of the room and shut the door and turn on the Privacy magics, that little green light over the door will turn on—” He pointed at the light, which was currently dark. “When the light is on, you will put the bracelet on, and it will meld with your very soul. It will resonate with you. In that moment, you must think of what has been taken by the Red; your husband, Perry. When you have a lock on his memories, and if he wasn’t Fully Taken, then you will begin to hallucinate him in your life.

“You will speak to shadows. You will make breakfast for two. You will find a warm spot on the side of your bed that wasn’t actually warm at all.

“And maybe, in a month or longer, if the person is capable of coming back, they will.”

Leeanne shuddered, her gaze locked upon that bracelet. And then her eyes flicked up to Solomon. “Have you actually had… personal success?”

As a Knowledge Mage, Leeanne would have known about Solomon’s ‘disappeared daughter’, Debby. She did not ask about her, though. She was kinder, in that way, but she was also ruthlessly protecting herself.

Solomon smiled softly. “We brought back a cat, and several wrought. You’re our first non-wrought trial. It doesn’t work so well for people who are moving around a lot, and if the connection is already heavily disrupted. I’ve tried to get Debby back, but it didn’t take. I’ll try again with the next round of improvements.”

Leeanne breathed deep. And then she got up and bowed. “Thank you, King Solomon of the Black Gate.”

Solomon rose. “Good luck. When you put on the bracelet it will be difficult. When you’re ready, come on out. We’ll be monitoring you from afar after that. Use your mana senses on the illusionary person you see, and keep them real in your heart, Leeanne. That is the only way this works. When you doubt, when you falter, you will lose them. You will have to start over, and you might not be able to make yourself start over.”

Solomon left.

He shut the door behind him and did not mana sense whatever Leeanne did in the room. Soon, soft crying filtered out from beyond the door. Leeanne came out minutes later. Pretty fast, really.

Killzone had taken a full week to come out of that room.

- - - -

Erick held onto a [Shackle of Memory and History] in his left hand as he reclined in his chair in his office at the House.

In his right hand he held his Lightning Path.

In his mind, he held an image of a Fate he desired.

He thought of Guildmaster Mogarithag Moggargal; Mog. She was a tall, muscular orcol. Some would call her overly muscular. She had short black hair and brown eyes, and she liked her magic to be colored grey, or clear, but it was red when she was too busy to Alter her mana signature. She had been flirty when Erick had first met her, and she maintained that disposition long after Erick had sort of… not gone that way. She had even implied one time that she would like a three-way with Al, but only because her words had been clumsy.

Erick recalled that time.

Mog had been wearing a bright red dress and Erick had been on a ‘date’ with Al, at some tournament games that Spur would hold north of the city, in temporary tournament grounds that Al had helped [Stoneshape] out of the sands. Mog had blushed when Erick had implied her implication, and then she blipped away.

Erick smiled at that—

His Lightning Path flickered.

His Path bade him not to put on the bracelet, but to instead…

Erick took his Lightning-filled hand, and gently pulled at the shadows of the room, the light of brilliant white claws easily finding purchase on his target.

From the shadows, Erick dragged Al into the world.

Al almost fought against the dragging, but then he steeled himself and stood before Erick, his eyes glittering white. He said nothing. He looked as he used to look, but different. Same black-and-pinstripe sultan/gangster suit. Same dad bod. Same massive arms and lower fangs jutting up from his jaw.

His countenance was full of shadows, though.

Erick placed the [Shackle of Memory and History] on his desk, closer to Al. “Hello, Al. I have a present for you. I’m not sure who it will work on, though. On Mog, the woman you loved, but refused to be with because you had already had a bad experience with someone just like her, years ago. Or on Savral, your son given to you by the woman who came before Mog, who was killed by Dragon Stalkers when she gave birth to a dragonkin. I don’t know of any other people in your life who were Erased, but the attack on Spur was extensive. Maybe someone else will come out of Memory.”

A long moment passed.

Al breathed, and then he sat down in a chair. “I have come to understand that you believe we used to be friends. This is not how I remember it at all. My life before the Claw attack on Spur and the life afterward was vastly different, according to my comrades in the Church.”

It was anyone’s guess where this particular Al came from, but Erick was pretty sure he was still the Al who first taught Erick about magic. He didn’t seem to think so, but that was fine. His memories were pretty faulty.

Erick nodded. “I heard something about that. A lot of people have memories that aren’t wholly true, because a lot of people who are here aren’t from here. Others were affected by the Red. Some, like you, were a confluence of both, with the full story lost to the Red.” Erick said, “Sorry, Al. If I could have come back sooner, I would have.”

Al let some of his mask drop, huffing a disbelieving huff. “In my mind, Mog was my wife. She was Savral’s stepmother, too. We were a loving family, and yes, we had lies, but… It was a good life. I have learned a few different stories about this world I exist within since that attack. The world I remember, though, is me taking you into my home and you getting Savral killed in that Red Dot attack. You spoke to Messalina about that, and I got Savral back for a time... Things devolved from there. I haven’t actually heard from you since you Benevolence’d me, trying to make things right.” Al stopped. There was more story there, but he stopped talking.

Erick said, “And now you’re a Shade, and you’ve been avoiding me.”

Al sighed. “I’m not avoiding you now.”

Erick asked, “Want a beer? We can talk about getting you set up with this [Shackle of Memory and History]. It might not work if you try it too hard. It will work better if Silverite will let you back into the city, into the Sewerhouse. I will talk to her about that, if you wish.”

Al’s eyes glittered with a little bit of hope. “… Sure. I’ll take a beer.”

They talked for a while.

It was tense.

It was nice.

- - - -

Erick stepped into the fractal Hall of Gods again.

Phagar stood there, like a shadowy mirror of himself. “Have you made a decision about Fate?”

“I have,” Erick said. And then he made a vow, “I’m going to get back absolutely everything, Phagar; for me, for others, for Veird. Let us bend Fate to that ultimate goal. Let us fully populate that Grand Wizard’s Tower.”

- - - -

Erick was a 3.5 kilometer big black dragon, sitting on the empty lands of Sphere One, above Candlepoint. The land up here was rather untamed and wild with only a few outposts from House Benevolence here and there, just because they needed to know what was happening in the Sphere above the city.

Today was training day.

A few of the previous days had been training days, too, so this was all going rather well.

Valkyries swarmed, and Erick attempted to catch them with aura-made claws. It was a simple training system which had taken a while to actually happen, because no one wanted to actually ‘spar’ with Erick at all. And yet, they all needed the practice. Even Erick was getting some use out of this.

Shivraa was a speck of ice-blue gold-black, dancing on the wind around Erick, swords flashing at Erick’s small attempts to grab her with his aura. Erick wasn’t doing much right now, and Shivraa wasn’t doing much to attack, either, but to an outside observer, it might look that way.

She was in her full valkyrie form, which Rozeta had kindly turned into an Ability and Class. ‘Valkyrie’ was based on Polymage, but with one key magic that would unlock whenever a Valkyrie was outside of the Script, or facing the Red; a built-in ability to link to a [Spellsurge Weaver] that Rozeta had also set up, which would allow a Valkyrie to connect to all other Valkyries connected to the same squad. Rozeta could even supply them all with mana from Veird, and they could Siphon mana back to Veird, for [Benevolent Cleanse]ing, to make sure it wasn’t Red—

Shivraa blinked from one side of the sky to the other, her swords and wings slicing at phantom images of Erick’s claws that tried to surround and contain her.

Erick grabbed her with his aura and held her, using maybe a single percent of his concentration. Even that much was too much for her; she could not escape.

Which is when Killzone barreled through the space like a black meteor and punched Erick’s phantom claws to pieces. Shivraa instantly repositioned, moving fast, and Killzone mostly dodged a trio of claws reaching through the sky, trying to pin him between them.

Killzone was taking up maybe 2% of his concentration.

Erick wasn’t trying very hard. If he actually tried, he would just lock down the space all around them with a Domain and a smidgen of Authority, and then he would sort of… flex. The only ones who were somewhat able to escape that incredible amount of destruction were Killzone, and the other black orcol wrought in the area.

Twenty other valkyries, taking up another 8% of Erick’s collective concentration, worked their Siphons against Erick’s aura, trying as hard as they could to suck away his power. They weren’t doing very well. Erick pinned every single one of them between claws, one right after the other.

That’s when Sitnakov came in and broke Erick’s Domain in tiny ways, to free the trapped Valkyries.

With a broken smile full of hate, Sitnakov yelled out at Killzone, “What’s the matter! Can only save one comrade at a time?!”

Erick didn’t appreciate the distraction to the work, so he said, “Killing Claw,” and worked his auric claws to grab and trap four Valkyries, ripping them to—

Killzone, Sitnakov, and Shivraa, all three came to the rescue of their comrades, moving much faster than before, each of them scanning the area to see where Erick was attacking, and then rushing to the aid of their comrades. Sitnakov’s dual swords cleaved apart Erick’s claws to save one Valkyrie. Shivraa saved one person by freezing Erick’s auric claws. Killzone saved another by punching a pair of claws apart.

And the last Valkyrie knew they weren’t getting saved, so he did exactly what Erick wanted him to do; he saw Erick’s claws forming in the air around him, coming in for the kill, and he turned soft and slippery. With a twist of power and a bit of resonwork, the Valkyrie slipped out of Erick’s grasp, becoming a leaf on the wind.

Erick smiled, and said, “Very good! Just like that.”

The Valkyrie grinned, their massive red body flexing and twisting from Erick’s secondary grab. The guy was a minotaur from the minotaur lands, from those who had come from the House Benevolence of another Veird. A lot of those minotaurs —and even some of the minotaurs that Hollowsaur had made— had signed up for this Valkyrie program in the last few months. Those people were all remarkably adaptable to physical alterations, and easily able to take to the Valkyrie Class and power.

Erick had about 56,000 Valkyries.

Erick was only working with 250 of them right now… And also Killzone and Sitnakov.

The Valkyries tried to dart in, to stab at his scales while attempting to Siphon off his magic all the while. It was good training for everyone all around, really, and occasionally some of the Valks figured out how to instinctively use resons to escape Erick’s grasp. Every single one of these 250 had Domains, and every single one of them was an extremely powerful warrior in their own right.

But even after living here on Veird for 9 months, and with the Un-Sundering project working well, and with all the plans and ideas they had all put forth… Would it be enough?

Erick softly said, “Big Killing Claw.”

People tried to react.

It didn’t save them.

Erick turned every single Valkyrie into mush and pierced Killzone and Sitnakov through ten times over, from ten different directions. Killzone and Sitnakov gasped and tried to reform, to get out of the pin, but Erick had pinned them well, using resons to do it.

Erick had billions of resources to spare for this sort of thing; there was no danger of ever running out in these sorts of trainings.

The Valkyries rapidly reformed from pools of blood scattered all over the area. Only Shivraa managed to reform in any quick amount of time.

Erick let Killzone and Sitnakov go, pulling his auric claws back, dropping their mangled bodies onto the ground with some big thunks, and then he cast healing magics on them. Soon, they were right as rain, though they were still gasping heavily. That much deep damage caused a lot of pain, and that pain lingered well past the wounds healing.

And yet, Killzone soon rolled over onto his back, to stare at the sky. He was in pain, but it was distant.

Sitnakov dry-heaved onto the ground while his broken swords lay around him in pieces. He was in pain, and it was all-consuming.

Erick turned back into a person and stood with the General of Spur’s Army, and the Second Prince Stratagold. “Take ten and let’s go again.”

Killzone breathed out, his black eyes staring at the false sky overhead. And then he rose to his feet. He huffed, and then he laughed once, and spoke in his characteristic ‘southern’ twang, “That was a good scuffle. Seems I gotta do a mighty lot of moving to shake off the slag.”

Erick smiled at that. Killzone looked better than he had in years.

Sitnakov heaved again, and then he got up, though he wasn’t moving easily at all. He tried. His swords melted into his body and then reformed in his hands. He glared at Killzone for a moment, and then he said to Erick, “You’re holding back too much and striking too fast and deep. I’m getting no experience learning how to break your Domain.”

Killzone said, “Again.”

Erick nodded, then said, “Then I’ll go slower and we can try some of that.” He said to everyone, “We’re going again! Any Valkyries who want to switch out, raise a hand!” When no one raised a hand because they were all too stubborn to realize they were tired as fuck, Erick commanded, “Then I guess I gotta beat some sense into you.”

And then he was a giant dragon again.

The training resumed.

Erick went slower with his attacks, but sometimes he simply splatted the most tired Valkyries with his tail, telling them that they needed to go rest. People rotated in and out of the battlezone. Gradually, and then in rapid improvements now and again, the Valkyries improved, because when one of them improved in a meaningful way, all of them seemed to understand how to better escape Erick’s grasp. Individuals still fell to a tail whip when Erick saw them lagging, though.

Killzone and Sitnakov rapidly got better and better, and they even teamed up to ‘fight’ Erick now and then, when the opportunity presented itself. Erick was surprised to see that, but he didn’t say anything. Killzone and Sitnakov were ‘fighting’ with each other right now, and Erick didn’t want to disturb that.

Killzone wasn’t anywhere near Igniting his Wizardry, and no one talked about that at all, but he was improving fast. Very fast. Killzone’s entire kit was all about punching harder and moving faster, and he seemed to be casually speeding up with every hour of work. His seriousness had already dropped away, showing himself as the unserious-serious danger that Erick had recognized him for when Erick first got to Veird, and saw the giant black orcol as the General of Spur’s Army in Ar’Kendrithyst.

And then Sitnakov got splatted by Erick’s tail, his swords flying away through the air—

Killzone slowed down enough to tease the man, “I reckon you lost sight of the giant tail, eh, Sitty!”

Sitnakov came back together, chuckling. He reached for his swords, but his swords were way too far away, and yet the air rippled with resons. Suddenly, his swords were in his hands again, and he was woundless, saying, “It’s a lot different than fighting Melemizargo.”

Killzone barked out a laugh—

Neither Sitnakov or Killzone had recognized that Sitnakov had instinctively used resons. They were joking just a bit too much.

Erick went in with his tail to clip Killzone, to get his head back in the game, but the guy reacted without reacting. The very fabric of reality warped around the big black man as Killzone slipped out of the way of the strike, moving in the air like a leaf on the wind. Suddenly, he was on the other side of the sky.

Killzone’s smile was wide. “That’s how you do it!”

Huh!

Good for them.

Erick only had 5% of his focus on the two of them, but he spared a bit more because they were getting cocky. His next claw grab shoved Killzone right into a tail slap, but even then Erick only managed to clip his legs. Of course, a simple clip of a kilometer long tail with 30-meter-long sharp spikes was still enough to remove Killzone’s lower half. It took Killzone a moment to put himself back together, and he had to retreat to do that.

Sitnakov laughed at him, saying, “That’s the fastest you can heal yourself, eh!”

All around Erick, the Valkyries fought to strip him of his power, Erick solidified his own aura and Domain to prevent that, and he plucked at anyone who got too close, or who managed to draw too hard upon him and actually take some Mana, or Resons, or Psyche. Different Valkyries were better at taking different resources from him, and though that sort of theft wasn’t something that should be encouraged —because to focus on Erick’s resources was the wrong sort of focus, for Nothanganathor would certainly have different powers— it was still nice to see them all finding their places, and finding their power.

Erick guided their efforts with his Lightning Path, focusing on whoever needed the focus. Killzone and Sitnakov had demanded his focus for a brief period, but now they were back to the background, for Erick had helped them as much as he should.

A few hours of training later and the entire assault of Valkyries was able to get into his inner defenses, and actually take mana from him. Erick called out another Big Killing Claw and wiped the board.

As people regathered themselves, Erick called for a switch.

A different series of 250 Valkyries came forward…

Along with Jane and Candice.

Erick’s stomach dropped.

And then Jane said, “Just watching, dad.”

“Oh, good!” Erick said, “That’s good!”

Candice said, “Just watching you beat up her boyfriend, she means.”

If Sitnakov was capable of showing a blush, he might have done so.

Jane just laughed, and said, “The big guy needs a beat down every now and then.”

Sitnakov improved much faster with Jane watching.

Killzone was doing a lot more improvement than Sitnakov, though, and though Erick knew that Killzone was not interested in Jane, and Jane was not interested in him, Killzone entered some sort of reson-trance zone for about an hour of battle, just by having Jane there, cheering on Sitnakov. There was some sort of forlorn-ness in Killzone’s eyes sometimes. The [Bracelet of Memory and History] he had embedded into his left wrist even showed on his black, adamantium wrist now and then, like a thin tangle of a silver tattoo.

Erick had some probably-correct guesses as to what was happening between Killzone and Sitnakov and the absent and obviously-Sundered Third Prince of Stratagold, Chernom. The fact that Erick was shaped like Melemizargo, and Killzone and Sitnakov were both fighting him at the same time, was obviously a powerful part of a memory for both of them. Erick was pretty sure he saw a shadowy, silvery Memory flitting around the battlefield right alongside both of them, when they both truly got into the flow.

Whatever was happening between the ‘Stratagold-royalty-shaped’ wrought, and the ‘actual Stratagold royalty’ wrought, was something for them to figure out—

Killzone flashed platinum, his eyes focused on Erick’s face, and then he barreled through five of Erick’s gripping attacks, ignoring them all in a way he had not been able to ignore before. His punch took Erick in the jaw, like a gnat striking a giant, but this gnat went right through Erick’s scales and bone and body, and then out of the bottom of his face.

It was rather superficial damage, even if it did look bad.

When Killzone came out the other side of Erick’s dragon face Killzone had a silver aura around him, and he continued in a straight line like an unstoppable meteor, right into the ground, like a line of light.

The fight stopped because everyone had seen that happen. Erick fixed his jaw and turned back into a person.

Floating above Killzone’s crater, Erick waited for Killzone to pull himself out of the ground.

When the man unearthed himself, he was still the same big black adamantium orcol-shaped man as always, but his eyes were platinum, and a ghost of himself came out of the ground with him. Killzone blinked at the copy of himself, and the copy smiled.

“Oh,” Killzone said, to the copy. “Hello.”

The copy silently said something.

Killzone said, “Okay.” And then Killzone looked up at Erick, floating a few tens of meters away. “Thanks for the training, Erick and all y’all. I’ll be back.” And then he stepped away in a platinum flash, that was clearly not any sort of normal Elemental Stepping magic.

The ethereal copy went with him.

Erick smiled at that.

Sitnakov frowned as he floated next to Erick. “What just happened?”

Erick saw his Lightning Path connect rather strongly to the moment, so he let it guide his next words, “Looks like Killzone just ignited as a Wizard. That’s the first wizard wrought ever, right?”

Sitnakov breathed deep, shuddering. “… I need to go. Thanks for the… uh. Thanks.”

Erick nodded.

Jane came over to Erick, asking, “So Killzone is a Wizard?”

“Genesis Wizard, I think,” Erick said, “Yup.”

Jane and Candice both went, “Huh.”

Erick turned to Jane, and directly asked, “Are you dating Sitnakov, now? For real?”

Candice laughed loud.

Jane blushed. She didn’t lie this time. “… Maybe.”