Chapter 141, 1/2

Clan Star Song’s mountain mansion was a beauty of light and color; an oasis in the darkening night. Soft songs made of plucked strings and gentle voices drifted out from inside the palatial estate of towers and sky bridges and houses. The scents of spicy, savory, and sweet foods, touched upon the air, giving hints of what was to come.

Ezekiel Phoenix, Julia, Tiffany, and Paul, each wearing their best, and only, spider silk robes, followed Xue Star Song and Sikali Star Song under a wide, white stone arch, into Clan Star Song’s domain. It was not a Domain, though; Ezekiel was pretty sure. His mana sense and the Sights of his Odin were pushed to the limit in an effort to see all of everything that was to come. He saw a lot, but nothing too concerning.

[True Sight] informed him that much of the colors he was seeing were actually physically present; the walls were not light-painted with wardlights, like in most places that tried to be grand. This place actually was grand, with physical paint layered upon wood, real paper in the lanterns hanging here and there, and stones that were allowed to be stones. The only wardlights present were those scattered in the boughs of trees, or upon light posts, or in other locations where a wardlight was supposed to be cast.

For all the complicated architecture of Star Song’s mountain mansion, it was not complicated in a haphazard way. The building seemed planned out perfectly.

Ezekiel imagined that newcomers to the Clan likely had a hell of a time getting a house here… or maybe that wasn’t a problem, actually? Maybe this was just an ancestral home. Yeah. That seemed right. Maybe only the Patriarch or Matriarch was allowed to actually live here? Hmm. No. That seemed too simple, too.

They walked along a curving stone path into a cleft in the mountain, which seemed like a great location to ambush someone. But… There weren’t many magics active in the air. Ezekiel rapidly decided that this made sense since all magics degraded over time—

Most magics did. Permanent lightwards and his own [Prismatic Ward] and [Kaleidoscopic Radiance] were all permanent. But as for magics other people cast? Aside from lightwards, of course. Those magics were generally impermanent, with a duration that lasted weeks for lesser magics, and hours for stronger ones. The only spell that was the exception to the rule was [Force Trap], and even that one was not permanent. [Force Trap] was one of the spells that were widely banned by law in most places, but still, you’d expect to see those kinds of spells in a place like—

Right over there, by that sky bridge leading between those two towers. A Trap spell of some sort; [Wood Trap]? Maybe. Maybe not.

There’s another, over on that doorknob. Oh. There’s actually quite a lot on more than a few doorknobs… None anywhere nearby; none on the path they were taking to get to the gathering.

And besides that, people were always the largest threat to one’s safety.

There were quite a few people ahead.

Ezekiel got his head in the game.

Current threats? None active, or visible.

Active magics? None nearby that weren’t already attached to a person. None which seemed too strong; but the strength of a spell was not always perfectly indicative of effect.

Current emotions on faces? Happy. Calculating. Open hatred. Hidden hatred. More calculating looks, more false faces. The whole human and otherwise experience was on display in the party, just ahead, but none of that was directed toward Ezekiel, though a few people had their eyes turned toward the entrance, waiting for him. They knew he was arriving soon, but they didn’t seem to be waiting as a part of an ambush. They were waiting in order to see.

Ezekiel tried to relax, a little. He was going into a large communal event that would have a large effect on the rest of his time in this part of the world. This was why he chose to come to this event in the first place; make a good impression, find a few facts out about the Highlands, find some interesting or useful magics. That sort of thing.

But that stone pagoda in front of Clan Star Song had thrown him for a deep loop. His mind was filled with dragons and Paths and consequences and the fact that someone here was likely a dragon and wasn’t that kinda fucked up? He had heard expressions about dragons many times while he had been out and about in the city, mostly from the commoners who had seen him out on the street and then told their kids ‘not to wake the dragon’, after, or even before, they pulled those same kids out of his line of sight.

Ahhh.

Get your head in the game, Ezekiel.

It had been less than ten seconds since they had left the white road, outside of Star Song’s manor. They were now in an inner courtyard with little ornamentation, except for open windows above on every side, and a skinny, tall tree growing up from the middle, toward the open sky beyond. Past the tree lay an opened set of double doors. Light and song spilled out from the gathering inside.

Ezekiel followed Xue and Sikali forward, around the courtyard, and then waited just a moment for the other two to go ahead, first.

Xue and Sikali entered the gathering arm in arm. They bowed toward the people beyond, and then they both stepped to the left, their voices raised in unison, “Scion Ezekiel Phoenix, and entourage.”

Ezekiel stepped forward, into the space made for him.

He was atop a short staircase. The land beyond was a space of barely-raised platforms, five meters by five meters across, each separated by a meter-wide divide. Tables, shaped like rings with a small section cut out of them, each sat one to a platform. Not every table was the same size, but each held between ten to fifteen people. Servants moved in the meter-wide lower lands between each raised platform, rushing into the gap of each table when necessary to refill dishes and drinks and to take the dirty plates away. According to what Ezekiel was seeing and hearing, the gathering was still in the middle of its first course.

The people at the tables sat upon drum-like chairs with cushions on the top and nothing in the way of back support. The food they ate looked delicious, and yet Ezekiel doubted he would be able to enjoy it. From what he was already hearing, this was a party of plotting and schemes. He didn’t appreciate those. He much preferred party sort of parties, or at least one with less hidden hostility between guests.

Oh well. Maybe next time.

This was probably just how they did it among the nobility of the Highlands. There were a lot of cultural norms happening here that Ezekiel had never been exposed to before tonight. He could keep up, mostly, for he had surely gone to events where everyone hated each other, but he didn’t think anyone back home had ever murdered over the events of a night like this—

No. Wait. There was Rebecca and her husband. She cheated on him and then murdered him—

Ezekiel discarded that chain of thought and focused on the world before him. Barely a second had passed since his introduction.

Xue and Sikali bowed once more to Ezekiel, then they walked down the side of the staircase.

A man at a nearby table stood. He was one of the people who were waiting for Ezekiel to come into the gathering. He was also one of the people who were there when Tadashi was transferred to Elder Doniro, but he had left the second it became apparent that Ezekiel had completed the Quest, and gotten his five points.

The man wore a turquoise robe and spoke loudly, his voice quieting the people around him, “Begone, outsider! You stole our Quest, but you will not steal our hospitality.”

A hush fell over the room. Eyes turned to Ezekiel. This was a test, of course.

“I won’t fall for that sort of ploy a second time.” Ezekiel asked, “Are you some member of a High Clan, too?”

The man scoffed, “You are right to be wary! But we need not concern the High Clans to deal with the likes of—”

“Ah! Then you admit you’re not important.” Ezekiel promptly ignored the man and stepped down the stairs, asking one of the servants who failed to run away fast enough, “Is there a specific spot where I should sit? I’d like to see Tadashi, as well.”

The servant quickly made himself as small as possible, saying, “A thousand apologies, but this one knows nothing,” as he backed away, getting the hell out of there.

Ezekiel couldn’t blame the man.

Turquoise man’s face was a shade of pink, but it went red as he was ignored. A few laughs tittered out of some of the other people at the gathering, but not all. The people at the highest platform far to the left of the room, just looked on, impassively. Five people sat on one side of a linear table, up there on that platform, watching everyone. Each of them wore fabric crowns, but the crown of the person in the middle was the largest.

From left to right, was Elder Doniro, then some other guy, then a man who Ezekiel guessed was the Patriarch of Star Song according to his hat, then Elder Arilitilo, then another woman. To the left of that top platform was a medium-height platform, with a single smaller table, large enough for a single person.

It was Tadashi’s table, for sure, but he wasn’t there. A focused expansion of Ezekiel’s mana sense uncovered a blank spot a good ten meters beyond the gathering room, almost seventy meters to the left, deep into the mansion mountain. The blank spot was sitting at a different table in a small room, already eating. It was probably Tadashi.

They’d likely bring him out anyway when they decided to give their announcements.

But what to do until then? Just sit down… somewhere? Yes. But where? There was a hint here, somewhere. He just had to… understand it...

Barely a second had passed since he shut down the Turquoise Man. That dude was still trying to understand exactly how much he had been insulted.

Soon enough, multiple seconds passed. Ezekiel listened.

One group of small voices were saying one thing, about how Ezekiel should just take his seat at their table, which was in the middle of the room. This was a safe enough choice. Another was saying a different thing, about how Ezekiel’s guest of honor space was up by the Elders, at the small table.n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

Which meant that they were aware he was listening to them, and at least some of the people here were trying to trick him into making a mistake.

Was it a concerted effort? Or—

No. It was just a few people trying to be dicks. Some of the whispered suggestions seemed honest.

Whelp! There was only one way to win this type of game.

… Two ways, really. He could not play. He could turn around and walk away. That was always an option. Running away would always be an option, too.

The other option would be to navigate the issues before him and thread the needle between ruination and success. But what did success look like, here?

Success looked like a nice dinner and meeting new people and ensuring that Tadashi was okay.

So, to that end, Ezekiel paused and allowed the Turquoise Man to finally catch himself and say something.

“You overstep yourself, clansman!” The yelling man said, “Leave now, before I—”

Ezekiel turned his glare to the unknown pissant, and said, “I can handle a little impoliteness, but the Scion of your High Clan Devouring Nightmare acknowledged me, therefore: Are you insulting your betters, as well as me, clansman? You have woefully failed this encounter by taking that route.”

A few titters of laughter touched upon the air. Many were amused. Only a few were not.

The singers in the corner had ceased their singing while this minor drama played out before them, but the zither players strummed their instruments in quiet tempo, adding even more drama to the air.

This was just a play for all of them, wasn’t it?

Not the worst vice to have; picking on the new guy. But the game was over. If insulting the Scion of Devouring Nightmare the other day had cut that encounter to the quick, then invoking that High Clan here and now would surely have done so tonight, as well.

Ezekiel’s gambit had worked.

Three people stood up around the room. One was Caina, the purple-armored dark-skinned woman who Ezekiel had sparred with; she was at one of the three tables nearest the tallest platform, with the elders. The second person was some man in pink flowing robes near the entrance, at the table opposite the Turquoise Man. The last person to stand was Xue, who was at a table to the far left.

Caina stared at the turquoise man.

The turquoise man seemed to reconsider himself. He glared at nothing in particular, then turned contrite. He angled away, saying, “Then by a High Clan’s will, I suppose you are allowed to be here.” He sat back down at his seat and had a nervous server refill his cup.

Ezekiel ignored the man, then said to the room, “Thank you for the invitation, Clan Star Song. After my duel with Caina, I asked if there was to be drink and feasting and talk of nothing important. I am glad to have received your invitation to participate in such. And what a joyous occasion, as well. If that blank spot over that way is Tadashi, then I am glad to see he is at least doing well enough to eat.” He gave a small bow, then walked toward Xue.

Xue snapped a finger at some servants who moved quickly to make room.

Ezekiel walked past the pink man, giving a small nod of thanks, to which the pink man nodded back, then sat back down and resumed talking with his people.

Ezekiel was almost to his spot, but fate had different ideas.

Caina spoke up, diverting attention to her, “Scion Phoenix. Please come sit with us. Your people may sit wherever there is room, at a different table.”

Without missing a beat, Ezekiel turned to Paul, and Paul nodded, then he turned to Xue and gave a small shrug. Xue seemed to understand. The party split. Ezekiel went to Caina’s table, while Paul, Tiffany, and Julia, each found their own spots to be. Paul went to Xue and Sikali. Tiffany went to the pink man. Julia went to an open space at another table, beside Xue’s.

This was probably fine.

Singers resumed their soft songs. Zithers had never stopped playing. The Elders never lifted a finger or said a word. Ezekiel soon found himself to Scion Caina’s left, around a large table of white cloth and many small foods. Servers instantly moved a drum-like seat out from under the table for him to sit upon, which he did, and then they served him drink and food, all before he sat down.

Caina hadn’t sat down yet, either. She said, “You almost committed me to another duel of honor against that clansman down there, Scion Phoenix.”

Ezekiel smiled, saying, “I’m sure you would have won.”

“This is so. But I do not like the games that some people like to play around here, and you were playing a game with that man’s life as the stakes. He was only doing his task to ensure you belonged. There was no need to include High Clan Devouring Nightmare in that game.”

Ezekiel took his seat, and Caina took hers.

Ezekiel said, “I’m flattered that you thought my life wasn’t in any danger at all. I hardly know anything about anyone here, so I had to pick the most solid option in my arsenal against any future intrigue.”

“You are under hospitality rules. If anyone broke them, they would be retaliated against in kind.” Caina looked at him. “This goes for you, as well.”

“What are your hospitality rules, here? We have our own, but I am unsure if we have the same ones.”

By Ezekiel’s current understanding, Caina was a mechanical woman, in nature. Very by-the-books and no-nonsense. Duty and honor. But at Ezekiel’s question, Caina’s face scrunched a little, in annoyance.

Ezekiel said, “Apologies if it is an annoying question.”

Another person at the table spoke up. She was a pale woman in bare-shoulder red robes, with her blonde hair twisted into a bun and held in place with long, black needles. Her tan horns swept backward atop her hair, almost curling like a goat’s before they abruptly ended. She said, “Scion Small Scare is hesitant to answer about hospitality rites because anyone can claim broken rites if they have enough power.”

Caina strangled off a sigh.

A man of dark features, on Caina’s right, and with a distinct resemblance to Caina, said, “This is like saying the sun is warm. Rules have always been this way. Power enables one to empower or ignore the law at their leisure.”

Caina did not like her… brother’s (?) words, but she fully strangled off her response. A few people around the table just went along with the man; nodding, or lamenting. Some smiled, for they were the ones in power, and they enjoyed it.

Just who had Ezekiel sat down with?

Eh. He knew who he sat down with. This was fine.

Ezekiel could not help himself, as he said, “Power is the worst rule of law to follow. It would be much better if laws were enforced for the betterment of all, and the people who enforced them had the honor to not break them.”

The table watched Ezekiel.

But it was Caina who spoke first, as her personality seemed to come back together and focus hard on Ezekiel. She asked, “And how would you enable such a working of the law?”

“There’s no big secret to it. The only option we have is to struggle.” Ezekiel said, “Constant, never-ending, vigilant struggle. This begins by finding the right people to work with while shoving away those who fail to meet your criteria, or finding out why they have failed to enact your will, and then fixing the problems you find. But also, you have to be loose enough to let the small things go. Not too loose, however, that you let the small things pile up into large things. There’s also the matter of reevaluating yourself every so often, to ensure that the choices you are making are the correct ones. It’s a struggle.”

Ezekiel was quite proud of his answer, but he was aware that others did not share his opinion. He saw it in their faces, all around the table. Most just looked to Ezekiel as he spoke, trying to evaluate him and coming up short; Caina was one of those people.

The red woman smiled as she spoke up, “We all know it’s a struggle, but what is the best way to struggle? What is the goal?”

Ezekiel thought the answer obvious, but apparently, it wasn’t. He said, “To ensure the law holds two tenets above the rest: to judge with compassion, and to treat everyone the same.”

A blue-robed man across the circular space burst out in a laugh. A few others smirked.

The man on Caina’s right, who was most definitely her brother, said, “But the problem of unexpected power remains. There are always hidden masters who come in and disrupt the whole, for they would never allow themselves to be treated the same as a commoner. And they shouldn’t, either, for without power, there is nothing. It is only when eccentricity eclipses usefulness that anything like ‘the law’ should become involved.”

Caina agreed, saying, “If you have no power, then you have nothing. Thus, the Void Song, to deny power to the masses. Thus, the laws which put the power of the Clans above the power of the clanless, which allow us to execute those who would disrupt the balance. To put our lives on the same level as those beneath us is to risk everything, and it cannot be done.”

Ezekiel said, “In principle, I agree. The people in power must have the power to remain in power, but this question of ‘how to run a country’ is an old question that can never truly be answered. It can only be struggled with. But when the smaller people are empowered to prosper, they will, and then you get inventions and new magics and so much more opportunity than you would have had otherwise.”

He got a nice round of grins or other agreements, for that.

Ezekiel knew he wasn’t saying anything too radical, and the city of Eralis was stable and prosperous, therefore they could afford to indulge in talks of philosophy like this. In truth, all of this conversation was a simple test in order to gauge Ezekiel’s ability to engage with them and to see where he stood in the philosophy of governance. It was another truth, after all, that every single Scion at this table would eventually become the next head of their clan, and the philosophy of governance was something that they all partook of, at least in passing.

“Wise words, from our Scion guest.” The red-robed woman raised her glass, declaring Ezekiel’s words acceptable. And then she went off onto a different tangent, swishing her glass as she said, “I know I wouldn’t have this fine vintage here in my hand without empowering a small family of farmers we took into Star Song’s holdings two decades ago.”

A blue-robed woman said, “Empowering commoners is a great way to find new talent. Just this year, Clan White Wood took in a whole village of people running away from the northern warlords. They’re already producing some of the finest Lightwood we’ve seen in an age.”

Polite boasting of recent acquisitions began and rapidly proceeded through the whole of the table. They had used his talk of governing in order to show how well they governed, which… He could have expected that. Sure.

… This was actually going really well, actually, if that’s the direction they took his philosophy.

Some people gave their opinions on the politics that had already been laid out there by Ezekiel, but most were just trying to sell to each other.

And then a pink robe man who was not important at all decided to return to deep politics. “All this talk of empowering commoners only reminds me of the rebellions we have faced because of our leniency. If we were to try commoners in the same small courts as the nobility, then our nobility would riot the very next day, and they would be right to do so! We make this country able to exist, therefore we should be treated better than those who choose to live under our aegis.”

Pink robe was a proxy for someone else at the table, but Ezekiel wasn’t quite sure who.

The table went silent, as people turned Ezekiel's way.

Ezekiel asked, “You’ve all suffered rebellions before? I wouldn’t have thought so based on what I’ve seen. Why were there rebellions?”

Pink robe said, “We don’t allow those who have prospered from the protection of Songli to leave the aegis of Songli. There’s always one of the exterior cities from our main three trying to break off from our control, and they have no right. We don’t allow bandit states to exist.”

Ezekiel said, “I don’t know all about all that, but it sounds more like a Clan problem than a commoner problem.”

Caina frowned at pink robe, as she said, “This is a true enough summation, Scion Ezekiel.”

“Ah! Well, see there?” Ezekiel asked, “How many commoner revolts have you had?”

“Zero,” said the red robed woman, to the table. “We have never had a single instance of commoner revolt.”

Pink robe said, “Because it is our privilege to dispose of commoners without the necessary step of including the law. There have been no commoner revolts because they are ended before they could begin.”

Ezekiel felt a terrible chill run up his spine. He wanted to sigh, but he did nothing.

Many people at the table also did nothing.

Caina spoke, “I feel I have made an error. Earlier, I said that to put the nobility on the same level as the commoners was to incite war. I still believe this is true, but if there have truly never been commoner revolts, and all our problems have only ever come from each other, then perhaps the honorable thing to do would be to subject everyone to the same laws. If one makes a law that one would not follow themselves, then it is, by its very nature, unjust.”

Caina’s brother said, “Now, sister. That is taking an axiom too far. For instance: We wouldn’t want commoners buying land next door from us, would we? The point of having a separate district is so that we can connect with others on our same level. If a commoner moved in then what would they give us but eyesores?”

The red woman said, “Ah! But Ored! If they can afford the land here, then they can afford to be a Clan, can they not?”

“Loremaster Riri.” Ored frowned, then said, “Clans have military power and are the basis in which the Highlands supports itself and its people. Merchants do not belong here. There are many Clans which are less rich than others, but who support us in ways no merchant ever could. Why, a merchant would flee at the first sign of damaged products! But a poor Clan of the Highlands is still a Clan that would go to war for the lives of everyone. The day we allow money to rule the roost is the day we fall to pieces.” He looked to Ezekiel, saying, “Apologies, Scion Phoenix, but I disagree most ardently with your supposition about equanimity in the law. Our law works, and it works well.”

Caina looked at no one, as she said, “Maybe… I was too hasty.”

Ezekiel smiled, adopting an easier affection, and said, “I did not expect to have a conversation on law and country-running, but this has been quite fun and informative. Just so you know: Equanimity is the least of the laws which I would wish to struggle to implement. Perhaps, even more than that one, would be the ability for every citizen, no matter who they are, to be allowed to voice their opinions about the government, and not have those words silenced.” He threw in, “And way stations of [Greater Treat Wounds] on every corner!”

A few more laughs came almost as quickly as a few polite outbursts.

“Are you trying to foment rebellion?”

“Shortest lived Clan; that’s what your tombstone would read.”

“You cannot be serious about [Greater Treat Wounds] on every corner.” A miffed man in blue said, “The core prices alone would be astronomical!”

Ezekiel latched onto that last one, saying, “Okay okay. You’re right. Just free clinics. No one need pay for healing at all.”

The blue man frowned.

But Riri took Ezekiel’s concession and ran with it, speaking to the group, “If less people were afraid of the health costs of injuring themselves on the front lines, then maybe we would get more people willing to be on those front lines.”

Ored countered, “Our Highland-Sponsored Health Clinics have very reasonable rates—”

“But they don’t need to have any rates at all,” said a woman in blue across the table. “The gods gave us power to push back the Darkness, and it is our duty to use those tools to do so, and this includes helping each other regain lost health.”

The blue man, who now looked personally offended, spoke up, “That’s easy to say when the quality of your dinner wouldn’t diminish if we lowered our rates.”

The blue woman countered, “Then we can simply raise taxes across the board.”

There were several outcries at that.

By their pointed words over taxes, Ezekiel came to know that the Clans were taxed at least as much as the commoner. Nice to know!

Discussion continued.

Ezekiel happily ate his rice and fried fish while people talked about taxes all around him. Soon enough, other foods were presented to him as they were presented to everyone else at the round table. He chimed in with his own observations and ideas when warranted or when the conversation drifted his direction. When the situation called for it, he fully countered the more awful ideas, like the idea of having judge, jury, and executioner, all be the same person, for ease of enforcing the law. Even Enforcers were apparently just executioners. Juries barely existed at all, and when they did...

“This harkens back to your stance that the law should be balanced, Scion Ezekiel, but the law can never, and will never, be balanced.” Ored said, “When small magics are involved, we can [Witness] the crime unfold and judge accordingly. Only the nobility would ever need to decide the fate of their own, and only because when larger magics are used do they mar the readability of the manasphere. Commoners rarely need more than the Judge and the Executioner. And if they do, then they get them.”

The blue woman, Scion Gerella of White Wood, the Clan which built much of Eralis, said, “Commoners could get them, but judges and juries cost money, which most people do not have.”

The blue man, Scion Yaro of Red Ledger, the Clan which maintained the health of much of Eralis and the surrounding lands, said, “And I suppose you’d want to raise taxes on them all to do this?”

Gerella said, “No. Riri said it best: We must incentivize more people to go out and fight on the front lines. If your Health Clinics charged less, if the commoners were able to be actual warriors, then many of the problems of money would vanish from our society.”

Ezekiel commented, “There would need to be courthouses for any true shift in the Law to take place. I have not noticed any in the Highlands, but from what I am gathering, there are none?”

“We haven’t built courthouses in centuries,” Gerella said. “Even though our population is still ever-growing.”

Riri said, “Something will need to change in the coming decades with the population continuing to grow like this.”

Ezekiel said, “It is a good problem to have, though; Growth.”

“Aye.” Yaro lifted up his drink, which had been filled four times by Ezekiel’s count, saying, “Now that the shadow actors are gone—”

He got a few quick stares at that. Yaro startled. He set his drink down, then mumbled a nothing-apology.

Ezekiel guessed that Yaro was about to mention the Shades, but whatever the case, it seemed that people didn’t like speaking about Dark matters around a dinner table. Or, perhaps, anywhere.

That seemed rather short-sighted to Ezekiel. How could anyone form a plan against the largest problems in the world if they were not willing to talk about the—

Oh.

Right.

Normally, and for much of Veird’s history, no one could do anything against the Shades. So it was best not to talk of them, at all. Ezekiel could understand that much.

Caina got the conversation back on track, saying, “The Clans oversee their own lands and do their own judging. To that end, we have bureaucracy in place, but we mainly rely on the honor of our leaders and on our subordinates to make the correct choices in their Enforcing of the Law.” Like it was a horrible fact, she stoically stated, “And the bureaucracy grows.”

Ezekiel found he appreciated Caina’s honor, and the woman herself, but she had quite a few quirks to her that made her seem simple. She did not like paperwork, for one. She preferred everyone to be honorable and to just go about living her life—

“Ever and ever deeper,” Yaro said.

Scion Yaro, though, was a hothead and kinda lazy, it seemed. Of course, Ezekiel could have been wrong. They were at a party, after all. It wasn’t the best place to judge a guy.

“I’m more concerned over the gold woes.” Ored said, “We already mint our coins with less gold than can be found in other coins in the world. This problem is going to come to a head, soon, and result in widespread deflation. Maybe in ten years. Maybe twenty.”

Ored, though! Ored was clearly positioning himself to be the power-behind-the-throne, to his sister, Scion Caina. He seemed competent, which was probably a good thing.

Riri said, “We have certain plans for that eventual deflation.”

Loremaster Riri Star Song seemed like a scheming sort of person, but that was not bad. There was a lot of mystery to the woman, though, and that was slightly worrying.

“Do those plans involve some sort of fiat currency?” Ezekiel asked, “I’ve been interested in getting away from the gold standard, but I’m not sure how to do it.”

There were a few concerned looks around the table, but there were just as many interested faces.

Ored asked, “How would you prevent copyists from copying a fiat-currency that is not a physical, true object?”

Ezekiel, excited, said, “There’s a spell called [Object Reading]. It’s a lesser variation of [Witness], but I’m pretty sure it’s Mind Mage only, so the Mind Mages would have to be involved. But the currency itself could just be paper, or whatever. I admit, I only have the beginning of an idea, but we get truthstones from the Mind Mages, anyways, so basing another part of our judicial systems on them doesn’t seem like that bad of an idea.”

Caina finished off her latest cup of rice wine while Ezekiel spoke. She set the glass down for a server to refill it, and said, “Dislike. Pick another.”

“Why the complete dislike?” Riri asked. “As Scion Phoenix has said: it is the barest start of an idea.”

Yaro said, “It’s not the worst fiat currency idea I ever heard. But not only do you propose to put more Mind Magic into our systems, but a non-metal currency? This is not a good idea.” He looked over to Gerella, saying, “Clan White Wood tried that two hundred and forty years ago with wood and almost crashed our entire economy.”

Gerella frowned, and almost said something antagonistic, for sure, but she did not. Ezekiel didn’t know much about Gerella, but she seemed to like most of his own ideas and she wasn’t antagonistic when she didn’t have to be, and that was worth a few points.

“Oh! I have a better idea.” Ezekiel said, “Cloth currency. Not paper currency. Make the fiat currency out of some rare, specially bred spider. Then you have some potion that will react with that spider thread, and none other, briefly turning the cloth currency darker, or something.”

Riri’s eyes arched.

Her eyes would arch, wouldn’t they. Ezekiel knew Riri had something to do with spiders, but he wasn’t quite sure. No one seemed to bring up spider silk at the table, either; not even when they were talking of products. Spider silk was a large product of Eralis, though.

Which was why Ezekiel brought up spider silk in the first place. Might as well shake the tree and see if any spiders fall out!

Yaro laughed. “Reactive spider silk has more thought put into it than White Wood did!”

“Wood chips might be fine, too.” Ezekiel said, “The problem is that you need something that cannot be reproduced through simple spells already out there, and wood and silk can both fulfill that need if you [Grow] or [Husbandry] a specific plant or animal.” He had another half-thought, and added, “Wait. Never mind on the wood. I’m sure there are special [Grow] spells that can revive dead wood, though I know not a single one.”

Gerella lost a lot of her frown as she spoke up, “You cannot revive dead wood, if you know how to properly kill the wood in the first place. All this ‘wood-chip’ idea needs is some Decay-based alchemical baths to bleach the wood first to solve that grafting concern.”

Caina hummed a bit, and sipped her refilled wine.

“Good to know.” Ezekiel continued, “But as for cloth versus wood; there is the matter of space concerns. Cloth can be stacked like paper. Wood is bulky. Metal is already too heavy and the gold standard will lead to problems, eventually. This is why I like the idea of slips of cloth that can be used as a fiat currency. Or, I suppose, slips of thin paper made from special trees.”

Caina said, “Gold has multitudes of problems; I agree. But we need not abandon it yet. We are simply in the cycle where the problem is coming at us, yet again.”

“The Headmaster will likely get us out of the problem, just as he always has,” Gerella said.

Yaro said, “I loathe that solution.”

“On this, we can agree,” Gerella said.

Riri said, “We’re still paying off his last loan, and you know it didn’t cost him anything.”

Caina frowned. “[Duplicate].”

There were a lot of silent nods around the table. Silence descended, briefly.

Ored said, “I would still rather have some metal as our currency. You can’t burn metal, and if damaged, you can just Shape it back into coins.”

Riri instantly said, “But silk can be mass produced, and simple alchemical tests can prove the veracity of—”

Combative Yaro laughed, saying, “You just want your—”

Riri glared at the man, like she was dishing death and Yaro was eating his fill.

Yaro shut up.

Riri continued, “As I was saying. Simple alchemical tests can prove...”

The conversation continued. Ezekiel had long ago recognized a pattern. Normally, the Scions would speak, putting their thoughts out there, and then the people who were not Scions would speak, pulling apart ideas and arguments. Once or twice, a proxy war was started among the lesser clansmen, as they spoke on rougher topics that the Scions themselves would not touch, but at any moment a Scion could pull the conversation back to them, and restart the cycle back from the top.

The only one who seemed exempt from this cultural system was Loremaster Riri Star Song, who spoke at all levels of the topics happening around her. Ezekiel suspected that Riri’s ability to do this was due to the fact that the whole feast and conversation was taking place in Clan Star Song’s headquarters. As for interrupting Riri, though? No one had done that except for Yaro, and three times now. She was getting rather annoyed at the man.

Ezekiel was having fun, though. He did not expect polite and deep conversation when he came here. He expected bloodshed.

Eventually, Ezekiel heard the names of most everyone at that table, and the names of those around the rest of the large room. He learned a lot about the general ideology of the Highlands, and eventually, the conversation turned back to hospitality rights.

He would need to get Clan Star Song a gift, but that didn’t need to happen tonight, or even tomorrow. Giving a gift too soon would be seen as thoughtless, but too late would be seen as rude. What was ‘too late’? That was a whole new discussion. The general consensus was anywhere between two days after the event, and a week. By that point Ezekiel was up to five dishes cleared away, but some people were up to ten or twelve.

He glanced over to Julia, Tiffany, and Paul, occasionally. They were being tested in their own ways, but nothing too serious. Paul seemed to be nailing his interrogation, which Ezekiel expected. The man was giving nothing away and yet remaining amicable at the same time. Ezekiel was giving a lot away, but it was only philosophy, and it seemed important to give away his own philosophy since everyone else was doing the same, and they were all Scions. Tiffany was telling campfire stories and her audience was, if not enthralled, then at least doing a good job at pretending. She appeared to be a big hit.

Julia was currently in a game of knife stab—

The table of Scions noticed Ezekiel’s reaction, which was utter surprise, disgust, and worry. Several of them instantly wondered what part of what had been said was wrong. But...

Ezekiel slowly, so slowly, turned away from his table and affixed his gaze at his daughter, across the room. She had a knife in her hand. The guy sitting beside her had a knife in his hand. Both were smiling. Steel flashed. A knife jutted out from the man’s chest, buried hilt-deep, maybe all the way to his heart. The knife in Julia’s chest—

The knife did not enter her chest. The length of steel plonked off of her spider-thread robes; deflected due to the natural strength of the fiber and the tightness of the weave. They had worked on that weave for a while to get it tight enough to do exactly what it had just done; deflect a blade on its own. Part of Ezekiel was glad that it had worked. The other part...

Julia pulled the knife from the guy’s chest and the guy laughed, holding his suddenly sucking chest wound. She tapped him with a glowing hand, as she said, “It’s good thread, ri—”

Julia probably felt her father’s eyes (or the eyes of everyone in the room) boring into her skull, for she looked to her left. She locked eyes with Ezekiel, all the way on the other side of the room. His eyes narrowed; hers went wide. She put down the bloody knife and cast a [Cleanse] over the man she had just stabbed and the knife, then she shrugged. The formerly-stabbed man laughed all that much more, followed rapidly by their entire table, and some of the rest of the room.

A sudden influx of whispered questions followed the laughter, all of them variations of ‘What happened?’

Ezekiel breathed again.

He turned back toward his own table and sipped more of his rice wine. It was a good vintage; strong. It took his mind off of—

Riri said, “That is some fine spider silk your daughter makes, but the weave itself is as good as some Force constructs. What pattern did you use?”

“The thread and the weaving pattern is my daughter’s.” Ezekiel said, rolling with the situation. “She’s looking for a Nacreous Weaver if anyone knows where I could find one.”

Riri said, “Physical strength is more important than spellcrafting or colors, and that’s all that Nacreous Weavers can do. Your daughter’s silk does fine with black, though, and that is more than enough variety.”

Happy to move the conversation away from the faux pas that had just been committed, and the blood that had been spilled—

Seriously! What the fuck, Julia!

—Ezekiel wiggled his elbow, and thus his robe, saying, “Magenta did okay. Green and blue ended up more like sea foam and sky. But strength is a fairer concern than some others. I’ve heard that Nacreous Weavers are rather priceless, anyway. Is that because of the spellcrafting you mention—”

A chime sounded throughout the room, like a tiny notice of a change. Ezekiel turned toward the high table, finally giving face to the Elders who had been listening in on every conversation throughout the room.

Gods dammit. If Julia had just broken hospitality with her game—

No. They were clearly playing a consensual game of knife stab, and though Ezekiel had no idea why she, or the guy, had done it, it had been done, and he would stand by his daughter. No matter what.

The Patriarch, named Zalindi, chimed a second time, his aura manifesting a sound beyond the material, echoing into the silence of the room. All eyes were on him, for he was calling the gathering to order. Zalindi was a strong-looking old man of medium stature and hard edges, with skin so dark blue it was almost black. He was demi, for sure.

Zalindi spoke in a gravelly voice, “Welcome, fellow Clans of Songli, and guests. Tonight we celebrate an achievement from our branch family, Diligent Scribe, and the passing of resources between our great Clans for the betterment of us all.”

To the side, where the small, separate high tables sat upon the separate high platform, there was a curtain. The curtain parted. Tadashi came out from that curtain, and walked forward. He stepped up to his table, and stood beside his chair. Zalindi never acknowledged Tadashi, but everyone else did. They glanced the Alchemist’s way, then turned back to the Patriarch.

Ezekiel was very happy that Julia’s actions were being swept under the rug.

… Hopefully that’s what this was.

Zalindi said, “Clan Star Song gains the meritorious dedication of Alchemist Tadashi, and all of his previous work and knowledge. Clan Diligent Scribe regains the 5 points spent on Tadashi’s rescue, along with suitable recompense, and close ties to what comes next. Together, and with all of you, we will build upon what Alchemist Tadashi has already created.”

No one dared speak. Tadashi did not seem to enjoy the spotlight, but he endured.

Zalindi said, “And what he has created is a cure for the Antirhine Elixir. Everyone here—”

The crowd started to openly gape. Some sat stunned. Others asked questions, reminding Ezekiel of the sound of a startled cafeteria. Telepathic communications went out. A few stood up from their chairs, in sudden, reflexive action. Zalindi never stopped talking.

“—knows of a family member who came back from the front lines, cursed to an ignoble life. All of us know of people ransomed back to us from callous bandits or antagonistic warlords, who afflicted our loved ones with the Elixir in a final act of spite. My predecessor, the previous Patriarch of Star Song —Rozeta rest his soul— had two afflicted family members. Two sisters. Elders Turi and Elder Paras were to many of us, in my older generation, like aunts.”

The crowd was physically calm, but they held a deep fervor in their eyes as they focused upon Patriarch Zalindi.

Ezekiel’s processes were full up, taking it all in, trying to understand what Tadashi had done, and what he might undo. If Zalindi was telling the truth, and by the looks on many faces, he was going to change a lot of lives, and for the better.

Ezekiel found himself involuntarily whispering, “Good job, Tadashi.”

Zalindi continued, “For the rest of the evening, allied Clans may speak to Alchemist Tadashi, and to us. Our goal is to gain support for this creation, for it is a large one, and we will need help. After tonight, Alchemist Tadashi will be going to an undisclosed location, in order to fully explore his creation, and to hopefully give us a true cure to this insidious punishment which has plagued our Clans and many others of the Highlands.” He added, “This particular power will remain in control of Star Song, but it will be accessible to any allied clans, with strict caveats.” He said, “So bring us your support, or your Loremasters, or your Particle Magic knowledge, and be the first in line to cure someone you know.” He clapped his hands.

As he sat down, the curtains leading to the kitchens fully opened, and the next course was rolled out on wheels. Cake, ice cream, and other various desserts, all of which looked very fancy in small bowls and cups and plates. Dessert was rapidly dished out, while the rest of the foods were cleared away by dozens of people working in quick concert.

Almost no one cared about dessert. Everyone was either talking about a cure to the Elixir, or listening to others talk. The Scion table was mostly quiet, listening to it all.

Soon, the first of the people of Songli abandoned their seat and walked up to Tadashi’s small table. The Alchemist had been served cake and ice cream as well, but it sat uneaten, as Tadashi and the petitioners spoke.

Everyone listened in on their conversation.

Tadashi was adamant. No, he wouldn’t give away formulae; No, he wouldn’t give away spellwork; No, he wouldn’t give away the ideas behind his magic. The petitioners walked away.

Others took their place. A variation on a theme occurred, asking about ways to help through ingredients. It was a thinly-veiled attempt at deciphering the cure. That group walked away unsatisfied. All questions of ‘how’ were met with steadfast refusal.

“Those are terrible questions.” Yaro spoke up at their table. He had broken the spellbound silence of their space, and drew the eyes of many to him. The man frowned, deeply. “They obviously won’t give away that information.”

“Your Clan is responsible for much of the healing around here, is it not?” Ezekiel asked, “How do you think he did it?”

Eyes temporarily turned Ezekiel’s way, then the whole group focused on Yaro.

Yaro said, “It’s Particle Magic, for sure. But beyond that…” He thought. He said, “The Antirhine Elixir is a good threat against those who think they are untouchable, who break the honor of war. That’s who we usually use it against, and the threat of that affliction has prevented many assassinations that would have otherwise happened… But to actually be able to remove that affliction?” He shook his head. “I don’t like this. It’s dangerous.” He looked to Riri, saying, “You talk about getting people out on the front lines through easier access to healthcare, but we won’t need to put people on the frontlines if we can ‘unlock’ some of our most dangerous assets. Clan Red Ledger will need to train more Doctors, though, for the average soldier’s benefit.”

Ezekiel felt a dawning horror.

“This means rapid expansion,” Caina said, adamant in her understanding. “This means war.”

Her brother, Ored, repeated solemnly, “War.” and he was not the only one.

The room fell silent as that heavy word came out of the mouths of many, all across the gathering, like a brewing storm. The people near Tadashi fell silent. The Alchemist turned toward the table of Scions, his gaze passing over Ezekiel and everyone else as though he was in a daze. He might have been. Ezekiel saw his same disbelieving expression repeated upon many faces, all around. But as disbelief gave way to reality, Ezekiel also saw more than a little joy in the glitter of bloodthirsty eyes, and in the upturned corners of wicked grins.

The Elders sat resolute in their decision.

“One-sided war.” Scion Gerella White Wood stood, speaking to the gathering, her voice turning strong and loud, “We can use the Elixir. The barbarians can’t. We can shut down problems before they begin without undue fear of retaliation.” With power in her gaze, she turned toward the Elders. “Clan White Wood wants to know the timetable for this new potion.”

The gathering was completely silent. The Patriarch subtly turned toward Tadashi.

Tadashi stood from his seat, and said, “It is not a simple potion. At the current rates of antirhine expulsion we are able to achieve, ridding the body of this substance would be a treatment that would last years. The theory is sound. The prototype potions are created. It is a success, for a certain definition of ‘success’. But the treatment does a great deal of damage in the process. Most people— Most Scions, Elders, and otherwise, could not survive the treatment. The side effects are worse than those caused by untreated Blood Magic.”

Caina stood. “What about an Elder with 200 extra Strength? What about Small Scare’s Blood Tempest?”

Eyes bounced from Tadashi to Cania, going wide, and then returning to Tadashi. The ‘Blood Tempest’ must have been a big name to be trotted out there like that. A really big name, in fact, since [Scry] eyes began to pop up here and there in the gathering, but, now that Ezekiel spared half a thought, the new [Scry] eyes were likely due to the nature of the event, in the first place.

Most of the [Scry]s were instantly popped by this or that person.

And then someone popped Yggdrasil’s eye in the crossfire. He came right back, of course, but then he was popped again. Ezekiel reached up into the space where Yggdrasil’s eye had been and shielded his [Familiar]’s [Scry] as it came back. He casually told the man across the way who had popped the eye, “Please don’t do that again.”

No one touched Yggdrasil’s [Scry] eye after that point. Yggdrasil moved his eye closer to Ezekiel, and then onto Ezekiel’s other shoulder. Odin chirped in tiny noises as he watched all around him.

Tadashi spoke, “We would not risk someone like the Blood Temp—”

“He would take the risk.” Caina said, “My uncle would take the risk. You will give him this treatment as soon as possible. Inform me now of how best one should organize their Status in order to survive your treatment.”

Tadashi said, “The usual methods. High Strength. High Vitality. Mana Shield. Be at Rest. That last one is more important than we had considered. We’re currently looking into a way to put someone at Rest, without magic. Until we can do that, I cannot recommend anyone partake of this treatment.”

Caina listened, and then she turned toward the Elders. “Clan Small Scare will contact Clan Star Song regarding ways to assist in the coming days.”

Patriarch Zalindi nodded, just a bit. Caina sat down.

Yaro stood next, speaking out, “Clan Red Ledger will employ our greatest resources toward this breakthrough, if you will have us.”

The Patriarch spoke, “Any medical experts will be welcome into this advancement of the Highlands, but know now that actual knowledge of what we have made will be kept under oath and key. No outsiders will be allowed to know the full story behind our new power, and betrayers will be met with the harshest of penalties.”

Scion Yaro bowed, briefly, then sat back down.

No one else stood up.

The small procession to Tadashi’s table began again.

Ezekiel, though, considered his own reaction to all of this new development.

He had postulated that Tadashi had some connection to antirhine, and just now, he had been proven right. Being right didn’t really matter. What mattered was what was going to happen, now. He had not considered that war would be the next outcome, but in retrospect, it was obvious war was the next outcome.

There were options, though.

The first option was to do nothing. He could go up, say hi to Tadashi, inquire after his health, hear that the alchemist was poised to eventually cure his own health problems, congratulate him, and then leave, and never look back. It was a boring, and possibly wrong option.

For the Highlands were on their way to creating chelation therapy, which would remove the lead from the bodies of their strongest people, allowing them to get back into the wars they had been removed from. Like Scion Gerella had mentioned; a one-sided war, where the Highlands used lead against their enemies, and were themselves immune to its long term effects.

This thought rounded over towards the question: Did the Highlands deserve to have its culture expanded? From what Ezekiel had seen, the answer was a resounding ‘yes!’.

But this would lead to war, and war was only the right answer in a narrow set of circumstances.

Ezekiel found himself amazed to have that thought. ‘A narrow set of circumstances’? What the hell. That wasn’t a normal thought for him… Except it was. This is who he had become. This was the reality of a world constantly at war with monsters. And that was the problem of this world. All the monsters led to constant aggression which led to people using their ingrained responses to monsters —which were the only responses they had— to deal with each other, too.

And. Oh!

One of the signs of lead poisoning was aggression. Was everyone afflicted with low levels of lead in this world? Was a certain threshold of lead necessary to cause anti-magic?

Or was that just way too simplistic. ‘Everyone was lead poisoned’. Bah.

Eh.

Ezekiel needed to learn more about antirhine. What were the signs and symptoms? What was the actual effect it had on magic, and mana? Magic and mana were two very different things, after all. Antirhine’s effect on mana was to bounce the mana away. Antirhine’s effect on magic was to destroy all the intent in the mana which made it qualify as ‘magic’, turning magical effects back into base mana… which it then bounced away.

But there were more options than to walk away.

The second option was to help Tadashi in some way.

Maybe he could get some concessions which would diminish the possibility of war? Doubtful.

This led to the third option, which, Ezekiel admitted to himself, he was fond of.

Circumvent all of this nonsense happening around him and invent proper chelation therapy himself, and then give out that magic to everyone, everywhere. There would still be a war, and it might be worse, or, it could be better. Maybe there wouldn’t be a war due to mutually assured destruction?

… He wasn’t fond of that option, but only because he couldn’t see it not ending in war.

Every option ended in war.

Except the fourth option.

He could kill everyone here and thus prevent a future genocide.

… He cycled back to option 3. No one deserved to lose out on magic. No one deser—

Some people totally deserved to lose out on magic. The Shades did, for sure. There were others out there as well… probably.

Tadashi did not deserve to lose out on magic, though! Ezekiel relaxed. There was at least one person—

What if Tadashi practiced his proto-chelation therapy on orphaned children? What if there were piles of dead kids out there, all victims to twisted science? He had to know.

Ezekiel found himself standing. His voice threatened to bubble out of him, uncontrollable, interrupting the lesser clansmen currently talking to Tadashi. There was no need to interrupt, though. As soon as he stood, the room fell to silence. All eyes turned his way. More than a few people were nervous beyond belief as they gazed upon Ezekiel, and Ezekiel found it good; they should be scared of him, if all they cared for was more war.

The Elders simply watched, impassive, and yet anything but.

Ezekiel mentally acknowledged the people around him, physically ignored the fear he could practically taste in the air, coming off of a great many people, and spoke, “Alchemist Tadashi.”

Tadashi had already turned his way. His eyes were not full of fear, but instead, full of hope. “Scion Phoenix. Thank you for attending this gathering.”

“I thank Clan Star Song for the invitation.” Scion Ezekiel acknowledged the Elders, then asked Tadashi, “From what I have heard, I understand Particle Magic can be rather deadly. How skilled are you in this new field of magic? Has anyone died from your treatments, yet?”

Tadashi instantly said, “We have lost thousands of rats, so far, and we will likely lose a lot more. There have been no sapient deaths, and we will keep it that way. This application of Particle Magic is very new. I caution anyone from raising their hopes too far. The product works, but not well. We will get there, but it will take time.”

Ezekiel felt a weight fall from his shoulders; it showed, for sure. They weren’t testing on people, or at least Tadashi didn’t know that they were testing on people. Ezekiel asked, “How skilled are you in Particle Magic? How do you know your treatment actually works? That it actually removes antirhine?”

Tadashi paused. He glanced toward Patriarch Zalindi, who gave a tiny nod. Tadashi turned back, and said, “I will tell you how I made this discovery. I won’t go into detail. Inside the potion house, we have antirhine pellets that we use in order to de-magic certain plants. One of these pellets got into a solution of an experiment. This was unintended, but I wouldn’t find out until the next day. Usually, when antirhine is broken down inside a liquid that can actually dissolve the antirhine, the antirhine remains, creating a diffuse solution that needs to be carefully controlled so that it doesn’t infect the environment. It is quite easy to make toxic antirhine Elixirs in this way, but the antirhine in this solution just vanished. The anti-magic effect was gone.” He said, “That was three weeks ago. Now, we’re here.”

“You destroyed it?!” came the voice of a disbelieving man a table over.

A woman instantly joined in on that chain of thought, saying, “If you destroyed it, why would it take years to cure the Elixir!”

Ezekiel’s voice rose above the sudden influx of other speakers, “He did not destroy the antirhine. He just sequestered it. It was still in the solution.”

Silence fell.

Ezekiel added, “Unless you just melted it and it turned to air and floated away, but I highly doubt that.”

Ezekiel got a few stares. The Elders looked impassive, but they were interested. Too interested, perhaps.

Tadashi eyed Ezekiel, one eyebrow going high as he said, “It did not float away. Upon burning the solution under controlled, physical circumstances, the antirhine reappeared in the smoke and then precipitated out of the next solution. When the mice urinated we found—”

Patriarch Zalindi tapped a single finger against the table in front of him, once. Tadashi fell silent. Zalindi asked, “Scion Phoenix. How did you know that the antirhine was not destroyed?”

Ezekiel considered not answering, but that was the coward’s route. He said, “Because particles cannot be created or destroyed, only moved around and changed. Mana is the same way.”

Tadashi exclaimed, “So you do know about particles! I thought—”

Zalindi side-eyed Tadashi as he tapped his finger upon his table, twice in rapid succession. The alchemist shut up, then sat down. It seemed that the time for questions was over. Ezekiel bowed to the Patriarch, then also sat down. The Scions and otherwise at his table were either eyeing him, or trying to not eye him.

Zalindi stood, and in a calm voice, declared, “The presentation of our new magics has concluded. Alchemist Tadashi will be here to speak of logistics, but we should all talk amongst ourselves regarding these new developments, and how we might best achieve mutual aid for mutual benefit. The members of Clan Star Song who are seated at the heads of your tables are empowered to speak openly of logistics, but in the case they are not, or if the situation demands it, they might send you off for an individual meeting with one of us. Tomorrow, more individual meetings will commence, for this is not the work of one night, or one month, or one year. This is the beginning of a bright new chapter in the Songli Highlands, and it will take all of us in order to make it happen.” He sat down.

Talk erupted around the room of crippled Elders who could be brought back from ignominy, of uncles and aunts who would be allowed back into the main house, of—

Ezekiel turned back to his silent table. They were all looking at him. According to Odin’s few extra eyes, which he rid himself of as soon as Ezekiel noticed, half of the other nearby tables were looking his way, too. He asked the Scions and otherwise, “Yes? What.”

Caina, sitting next to him, spoke first. “Who are you?”

“That’s a rude question.” Ezekiel said, “Next.”

Before his sister could get mad, Ored spoke, “What my sister means to ask, is: Are you a threat?”

“It certainly seems like I was put here in order to make a decision, doesn’t it,” Ezekiel openly wondered. “Does a war deserve to be started, because of a new magic, because it would be best for all? Or does a war deserve to die in its crib because it is war.”

For a moment, no one said anything.

Yaro said, “With all the respect due to a fellow Scion, but also a foreigner, the Highlands deserve everything we carve out of the barbarian lands. If whatever shithole you crawled out of decided to start something with us then you’d be put to the sword, too, and that would be counted as the ‘best for all’.”

“Here is what I am currently thinking, and it ties into what you’re saying, at its core.” Ezekiel said, “The Shades instigate war in Nelboor; this is known, though many don’t wish to speak openly of this fact. One Shade in particular, by the name of Torika, was responsible for infiltrating clans and armies and driving them to war, and then killing her own ‘side’ once her side won.

“She was killed last Shadow’s Feast.

“So keep that in mind as you talk of war. Ask yourself, are you perhaps fighting at the behest of shadows when you kill a roaming warband, who is also unknowingly fighting for shadows? Or, is that part of Nelboor done? I don’t know, and neither do you. Not right now. Maybe not for a long time. But either way, the scars of those shadows remain, and you should check yourself to see where your impetus to war originates. Will there be a war that does not need to happen, just because the Highlands believes that there needs to be a preemptive war, because that is how it has always been, when one side rapidly gains unexpected power? Or is this to be a war of conquest, simply because the only options are conquest or surrender? Are all of the warlords out there truly so evil that they cannot be brought into the fold, or are your own desires for conquest creating enemies where there are none?

“Just look at me. I have heard of the good works of the Singers, and I come to you as a potential ally. Before tonight, I would have been happy to be a part of Eralis.

“But you gain one potential, landscape-defining advantage, and your first action is to consider going to war? That seems shameful, and goes against the successes you have already achieved.” He added, “Some of the warlords might need to be eradicated, for sure. I acknowledge that. But Tadashi’s invention is not ready —thank the gods— so you will have time to reflect on what actually, truly, needs to happen in this part of the world.” He added, “Make better choices.”

People recoiled as he spoke of Shadows and Shades, but they did not run. They listened. Some people turned against Ezekiel as he went on, their faces turning hard. Others got terrified looks in their eyes. Others spoke over him, but only telepathically, and to each other; no one dared to openly interrupt him.

He wasn’t quite sure why people were suddenly gaining fearful looks in their eyes, but he had a few good guesses.

Gerella and Yaro sent out some telepathic messages. When they got their replies, Gerella sat fractionally straighter, her face becoming full of hope. Yaro seemed chastised, and then he went hard, determined to weather the storm facing him. Riri was speaking telepathically to a few people, though her face remained impassive the whole time as she focused entirely on Ezekiel.

Something hard solidified in Caina’s visage as she received her own telepathic messages.

When Ezekiel finished, there was a brief silence.

And then Caina spoke to the group, “The fallout of Archmage Flatt’s creation of Particle Magic and his trip through Ar’Kendrithyst, and all the rest, will be hundreds of years in the unfolding. Alchemist Tadashi’s treatment will take a year to perfect, and then a year to implement upon a person. We have time enough to answer the concerns raised by Scion Ezekiel, and time enough to evaluate the necessity of war. War might not happen, now that the true antagonists behind many of them are gone.” She said to Ezekiel, “But war is always a possibility when the landscape changes. Once it leaks that we can bring our loved ones back from ignominy, and once our loved ones regain the ability to eradicate those who forced them into that ignominy, they will want to rid the Highlands of those who oppose our prosperity.” She said, “The warlords to the north. The pirates to the south. The scattered Hunters of the plains. The nation of Terror Peak across the Tribulation Mountains. These are enemies we have always had, for they have always wanted our prosperity. That desire only grows worse as our prosperity flourishes, and now will be no different, except now we can end them.”

People nodded along as Caina spoke.

Ezekiel conceded, “That is a valid point. Sometimes, some powers deserve to be Ended, even if it would bring pain to many. I said this much already, and I fully believe it, too.”

He could have said more, but he had said more than enough.

Caina regarded Ezekiel, then turned back to the table.

Someone else spoke of something that was not a true concern, and then another voice countered that first one. Conversations multiplied.

Ezekiel tried his ice cream. It was a good berry flavor, even when mostly melted. The cake was fluffy and perfect and tasted of some sort of lime. He smiled. They needed more citrus flavors; they needed to trade with Candlepoint.

He participated in the conversations when they turned to him, but he was mostly thinking to himself. His answers were less than satisfactory, and mostly deflective; he knew this, everyone else was beginning to understand this, too. He had said his piece. Time would tell what would come of the Highlands, going forward.

And his mind was on other things, anyway. Like: How had Melemizargo blipped them into the air, well over a year ago, when car batteries surely contain more than enough lead to disrupt such a spell? How had they gotten to Veird in the first place, if lead was disrupting the journey?

Did he have a bit of lead poisoning, himself, from living most of his life on Earth? Did Jane?

On my gods. Jane once told him that she had been shot with a bullet! Could she—

Could lead poisoning be holding Jane back from her magic?

And besides that, Jane had always been an angry child, and lead led to aggressive tendencies, and—

Let’s just not think about that right now.

Or! Or maybe...

Or… Had the lead not come with them to Veird? Is that why the car died? Was the lead from the car’s batteries left behind on that highway, all those months ago? Were a few plates of lead, wet with acid, sitting on the road, all that was there to signal that they had left Earth behind…

No. That lead came with them— NO. The headlights died well before Melemizargo showed. The car was fully dead by the time they were blipped into the sky.

There was lead inside laptops, too, wasn’t there—

No. Not that much, if any. Cars had lead batteries. Laptops had lithium ion batteries. Not much lead in a smartphone or laptop, either. The only lead in there would be in the solder, but—

There was lead in traditional solder, which would have been the only instance of lead in their various electronic devices… maybe. But these days the manufacturers used lead-free solder in electronic devices. There might have been some lead solder in the car’s electronics, though? Ezekiel racked his brain, trying to remember what lead might have come with them to Vei—

The conversation came back to him with a pointed question from Yaro.

The Scion of Red Ledger asked, “Do you have a problem with how we run our city and our nation, Scion Phoenix?”

Ezekiel instantly said, “I apologize. The evening has left me stressed in uncommon ways. I have been rude, I am sure. Please forgive me.”

Yaro frowned, seemingly unhappy that Ezekiel had folded so easily; or at least that’s what it looked like he was thinking. A few others around the table seemed to regard Ezekiel with less importance after he was willing to debase himself with a simple apology, but that was fine.

The smart ones, Ored, Riri, and Gerella, seemed to get something else from Ezekiel’s apology. They saw Ezekiel’s full pull back for what it was; a deflection that worked. Ezekiel knew he had gone too far in claiming that he was ‘put here for a decision’ along with all the rest of what he had said. Even Caina seemed to recognize Ezekiel's words as the same sort of drawback that he had done to bring their own duel to a draw, days ago.

Yaro was not content with a draw.

Yaro said, “Tell us what you appreciate about Eralis.”

It was a command, and not a question.

And yet, Ezekiel answered, “I truly enjoyed the Void Temple and meeting the Singers. The restaurants of Darzallia were a surprise with their variety and good prices. The book sellers had a fantastic selection. And this here? Tonight has been wonderful. Meeting you all has been a treat. And yet... There has been stress, yes, from this most recent development. If you didn’t know already, they don’t use the Elixir where I’m from, so not only have I learned of that awful reality, I have learned of how it affects everyone here, and how it affects the whole of this land. I truly believe a cure is a good thing in the long run, but I fear for the short term, as well. We don’t fight people where I’m from. We fight monsters. We don’t like war.”

If nothing else came of this whole shit storm tonight…

Ezekiel made the quick decision that he didn’t want the Elixir ever used on him. So in that way, a cure was necessary.

He decided to help Tadashi learn more about chelation therapy. He’d have to remember more about that science himself, though. Or! Or maybe he could just slip Tadashi an Intelligence ring— Nope. Enchanted items would fail in his presence. Ah. There goes that easy solution.

… How did chelation therapy work? It was a...

… There was a girl at the office that spoke of it… a few years ago? Yeah. A few years ago. She was an anti-vaxer and she spoke of chelation like claws wrapping around individual particles of metals contained in the vaccines… Okay. So. Maybe she wasn’t the most reliable person to think about when he was trying to think of chelation, but…

Had he ever read anything else on the subject?

Nothing that he could remember at the moment. He was, admittedly, a bit backed up with seeing and understanding all the rest of what was happening around him.

Scion Gerella White Wood spoke, “The perspective of an outsider is appreciated, but even with your objections to war, you must see how it would behoove us all to gain the ability to rid our society of the Elixir.”

“I fully agree.” Ezekiel happily said, “It took me a minute to get there, but I agree to that.”

There were a few nervous laughs and a few polite chuckles.

The conversation continued, without Ezekiel.

Eventually, Riri lifted her voice into a lull, saying, “Scion Ezekiel. Elder Arilitilo and Patriarch Zalindi wish to speak to you, if you are willing. Tadashi as well.”

Ezekiel took the offered out and made this the end of his evening, saying, “I thank Clan Star Song for their hospitality, and I would love to speak to your Elders in private.” He turned to the Scion’s table, adding, “I have enjoyed meeting you all. Farewell.”

There were a few nods from the Scions, and a few deeper bows from the rest.

Ezekiel followed a servant to the Elder’s table and then to the left; the Elders were all gone from their seats, their places cleared. Around the room, other empty spots at various tables were like unwelcome silences in a song.

Julia, Paul, and Tiffany joined Ezekiel before he entered a hallway, to head deeper into Clan Star Song’s headquarters, to where danger and opportunity waited in unequal measure.