Chapter 92, 1/2

A cool wind blew from the north, curling across the orange sands of the Crystal Forest, catching on dunes and rocky outcroppings, as the sun beat down from the eastern sky. Brown worms poked up from the flatter, loamy parts of the Crystal Forest, eager to catch glowbugs drifting in the air, while Mimics on the eastern sides of the dunes were already positioned to enjoy the warming morning light. As the day wore on, and warmth turned to heat, the worms would retreat underground, while the mimics followed the sun across dunes, keeping their shuffling movements limited to when no one was watching, or their explosive movements to when prey or danger was close enough to eat.

Mostly, no one watched them, aside from the worms and crystal spinehogs, and the occasional errant school of flying fish, and wandering wyrm. At a disturbance, the worms would duck down into the soil, while mimics pondered their response. If the disturbance was small and directly next to them, they would rush to eat whatever vibrated the land. If the disturbance was medium sized, they might rush away, or pretend nothing had happened. In the case of a sandstorm, or other event where the entire sky and the Crystal Forest vibrated from horizon to horizon, the mimics hunkered down.

But today, when there were no visible disturbances aside from the wind blowing sand, the mimics were agitated. They tinkled and chimed their fake-crystal leaves in a way that was very much not a natural product of the wind. They scurried a bit from left to right, or to the north, or to the south, trying to find whatever was out there, but their uneasy movements revealed nothing.

The sky was blue, and endless. Perfectly normal.

But the wind was different.

- - - -

Erick stood atop the short wall that separated the rolling hills of the Ranch from the deep blue waters of the Lake. Cows, brown and black and mottled, mooed into the air as they bounced across fields of clover and wildflowers and dense green grass. Wind tickled from the north, blowing ripples in the surface of the Lake—

Startled at a sudden thought, Erick said, “The smell is going to wash up the walls, into the city.”

Apogee, the only dragonkin Erick had ever seen with a tail, laughed. It was just the two of them, and Poi, out here on the wall in the center of Spur’s expansion. Erick had finished the final rain a little bit ago, bringing the Lake up to size, and watering the Ranch.

Apogee said, “I’ve got cowgrass planted all over to keep down the smell and I’ll pick up the dung beetles next week, after there’s something for them to eat.” He pointed south, to the line of trees growing near the wall. “Scent trees will keep down most of the smell, but if it gets bad, I’ll just cover the place in [Scent Ward]s. Besides! This ain’t no nation-sized meat farm; don’t go expecting me to have a thousand head of cattle out here.”

Erick counted a little, and saw maybe forty cows in sight. “How many are there out there?”

“Two hundred fifty.” Apogee added, “Got chickens coming to the Ranch next month to take up the rest of the space.”

Erick saw a tail stick up from the taller grass. He asked, “Cats are already here?”

“Aye.” Apogee said, “Missoli’s cats are already out there, taking care of the usual pest species.”

“What do they hunt besides chickens?”

Apogee barked a laugh. “Hopefully they won’t hunt any chickens! But that’s a fool’s thought.” He pointed with a talon, saying, “That’s one of the things they hunt, right there.”

Erick watched as a large black beetle lifted from the ground, maybe twenty meters away. It was about the size of a head, and shiny black. Erick barked his own laugh, for he had definitely heard of those black bugs before, and one had even scared Jane awake almost a year ago when he and her were camping out under the stars, and very fresh to Veird. But he had never seen one before.

“I haven’t spared a thought about those bugs in a long time,” Erick said.

“Not surprising, if you don’t camp outside all that often.” Apogee said, “Bed bugs don’t like to be out in the day, or this visible, but the pregnant ones get extra hungry. Cats love ‘em, though.”

A trio of dark shapes prowled through the grasses behind the bed bug, while the bed bug hovered behind a gently grazing cow. The bug landed on the cow’s back, but the cow didn’t even register the bug’s weight. It must have kept itself in flight, somehow. Maybe it used [Airshape]? Or maybe it was an [Anti-Gravity Ward] effect. A lot of animals out there had spell-like abilities.

A trickle of blood slipped down the cow’s side as the bed bug dug into the skin. The cow didn’t seem to notice. The cow certainly noticed the cats, though, as one wild-clawed feline leapt through the air, tacking the bug off of the cow, drawing more lines of blood as the bed bug’s claws tore across its hide. The cow bucked. The cat landed with the bug in its jaw and claws. While the cow raced away, the other two cats, which Erick just now noticed were much smaller than the first one, leapt in to help kill the beetle. Maybe a parent teaching their cubs how to hunt? They won their battle and got their meal, while the cow just mooed, loudly.

Erick asked, “Is the cow going to be okay?”

“Cows get hurt like that all the time, but they’re bred to heal fast. They couldn’t survive out here if they couldn’t.” Apogee said, “Shadowolves, you know.” He added, “That cat’s takedown was picture perfect. I don’t doubt that she’s killed a few shadowolves in her time.”

“Really?” Erick asked, disbelieving.

“Oh yeah.” Apogee said, “Cats hunt in trios and quads when they can, while the wolves tend to hunt alone.” He shrugged, adding, “But cats prefer an easy meal like anyone, so I expect to lose some chickens.”

Erick asked, “How do you keep the cats from overpopulating?”

“Spaying and neutering, of course.”

“Hah! I didn’t know they did that, here.”

Apogee smirked, saying, “It’s a specialty Healer’s spell. [Sterile]. Some people get it done on themselves, too, since it’s reversible with a [Treat Wounds].” He added, “[Sterile] comes from [Inflict Wounds].” He paused. He said, “Yup. That’s right.”

Erick asked, “So where are your cinnamon trees? You got your clippings, didn’t you?”

“I did!” Apogee said, “They’re past that hill, to the north, along with the yeaster flower and sweetgrain.”

Erick saw leafy greenery poking out behind the main hills of the Ranch, but there wasn’t that much there. Maybe three or four trees? Five? The wall behind that greenery was not much taller than the trees, which reminded Erick that if they were, then the mimics outside the walls would see the greenery, and swarm to take it down. Erick almost asked about trees for the cows, too, but Apogee was one step ahead of his questions.

Apogee pointed to some stone circle here and there on scattered hilltops, saying, “I got trees for the cows coming along, too. Roofing trees. They’re big flat things that do well in deserts, so I don’t have to worry about them getting enough water being on tops of the hills; they’ll grow all the way over to the Lake, eventually. I’ll work on getting those to size, later today.”

“It looks good, Apogee.” Erick turned around, and said, “The Lake looks good, too.”

The waters were crystal clear at the surface, with blue lilies floating on the edges, but the Lake quickly turned dark blue as meters of water piled up. The Lake was twenty meters to the bottom at the deepest parts. It had been expanded somewhere between the initial designs and this current iteration, both to keep it cooler to prevent excess evaporation, and to allow future fish that liked their water deeper. Erick hadn’t really noticed the extra depth until today. Mostly, he had just sent Ophiel out here to rain whenever Erick felt like raining, which was actually rather often.

Apogee gazed upon the Lake with him, smiling, as he asked, “Do you know how hard it is to get a life like this, Erick?”

“What do you mean?”

“A goal, a community, a family that’s doing well.”

“That’s the dream, for sure.” Erick added, “It’s been rough, but I doubt I had the same problems as you. I’m still finding my way, too; every day.”

Apogee glanced to Erick, saying, “From what I hear, Fork is gonna have your [Gate] nonsense sorted out soon enough. That’s gonna be difficult for you.” He looked to the Lake. “I tried to help this world for a while, like you have, using what I knew. For a while there, I even got rid of my original body to blend in. But that was a mistake. That’s when...” He frowned. He went silent.

The man obviously wanted to talk about his trouble with someone that might understand him, but he wasn’t able, yet. Erick wanted to talk to him, too, but he wasn’t going to push.

So Erick turned the topic to an easier subject, “Any idea what kind of fish are going in the Lake?”

Apogee happily said, “Rainbow flits. Goldscale slippers. Striped silvertail. They’re a well established trio of fish that are great for reservoirs, and they taste good, too.” He smiled again, as he said, “I really love Spur. It’s one of the only places I could ever get to do something like this. Ah! But it is good to be a part of the upper class.”

Erick smiled. “Is that what you are?”

“You’re in the ruling class of Spur, too.” Apogee said, “You didn’t have to wade through a decade of shit to get there, either.”

“Heh.” Erick smiled. Then he lost his smile. Then he whispered, “I’m part of the ruling class?”

“Call it what you will. Spur is basically a small kingdom, but without those awful noble families. Instead of them you got people like you and the guildmasters.” Apogee said, “I’m glad I’m done with that life, though. Retirement is the best.”

“… I never thought of it like that.”

“You didn’t?” Apogee said, “That’s one of the only reasons I came to Spur. Almost went to Outpost, but they pissed me off. I forget why, though.”

For a long moment, Erick looked out across the Lake, and thought. He was part of the ruling class of Spur? No. But at the same time… Maybe? Maybe he was? Ah. No. He wasn’t. But from a certain angle, it was possible to see him as a part of Spur’s elite. He sat at the table when all the archmages and heads of the city came together to see Candlepoint appear on viewing screens. Poi even said that Silverite and Spur tried to get behind him on all his decisions, because he brought the rain and food and large enough spells to clear the entire city of monsters. But he had never really made an unpopular decision before…

Except his choice to let the Flare Couatl kill Hunters while Messalina searched for the Cinnabar Hand.

Or just the other day, when he decided to play along with the shadelings of Candlepoint, for now, and give them food so they weren’t starving. Now that, was an unpopular decision. But Silverite let it happen. There were caveats, of course, but it was allowed to continue.

But. Ruling class? Erick wasn’t really comfortable with that. But maybe that was the truth?

Erick said, “Ruling class?”

“You shot up to the top of the pile rather fast.” Apogee said, “I had to become the guildmaster for a Wayfarer branch before I was allowed in on decisions that affected the city.” He smirked, saying, “All you had to do was invent a new form of magic.” He laughed. “I tried to do that, but it didn’t work quite right.”

“What did you try to do?”

“Get home; Spatial Magic.” Apogee sighed as he looked out across the Lake. He turned back to the Ranch, saying, “But this is good. This is better. This is what I want. Thanks, Erick, for making it happen.”

Erick smiled. He asked, “Say. Did you ever happen to find out how to make artifacts while you were out there, searching Veird?”

“Nope.” Apogee said, “That was one of my big searches, too. Every mage tries for that at some point in their lives. Only thing I ever found out was that normal people make self-sustaining, barely used, stationary artifacts, like a Grand [Prestidigitation] Stove, but only Shades and Gods make handheld varieties.”

Erick nodded. “I think a real artifact is gonna be my next project. Gotta spread my spells out to others so that I’m not a point of failure when this war breaks out.”

Apogee smiled at Erick, flashing sharp white teeth, as he said, “Then more strength to you.” He pointed to the barn, adding, “I got cows to feed, and trees to [Grow]. See you around.”

“Good luck making that cinnamon alcohol.” Erick joked, “Don’t go blind drinking your own whiskey.”

Apogee laughed, saying, “I haven’t done that in decades!” as he blipped away in a bronze flash.

Erick smiled. He turned back to the Lake.

After a minute of watching the surface waves, he asked, “How bad is evaporation going to be? Someone has done the calculations, right? ‘Cause I’m not gonna.”

Poi said, “The three fish Apogee mentioned work in concert to keep water fresh and stable in almost all conditions, and this includes preventing excess evaporation. It’s not perfect, though, and definitely not good enough to keep a non-oasis lake around in the Crystal Forest.” He said, “But the normal light showers that need to happen over the Ranch should be good enough for the Lake, too.”

Erick hummed. Poi’s idea of the needs of the Lake and the Ranch were in line with Erick’s own, but maybe there was a better way. Erick had sent a message through Poi to Silverite, earlier. Maybe she had approved his idea? Erick asked, “Has Silverite said anything about [Control Weather], yet?”

Poi looked to the air. After a moment of checking with the streamers of intent around his head, he turned back to Erick. “She’s thinking about it, but she has not consulted others and we’re not quite sure what your spell will look like in the Crystal Forest. Right now she’s leaning toward ‘yes’, but she needs more information. She has suggested that you throw this spell over Candlepoint, if they will let you. It would lead to less of your own involvement in the city, they can spend magic to conjure moisture from a sky full of clouds, if they need it, and we’ll have a test run of the spell’s capabilities and environmental impact.”

Erick thought for a moment. He said, “That’s a good point.” He shrugged. “And if they say no, I could just make a plot of green forest out there somewhere. There’s no shortage of space, out there.”

Poi nodded.

Erick thought. He said, “Actually! I’ve decided: I'm going to do that, anyway. Just to see if I can.” He smiled. I wonder what Sininindi will think of— Ah! Drat. I forgot to put in my tithe to the Church. Let’s go do that, Poi.” He held his hand out to Poi. “Think I can blip directly into the Bank?”

Poi frowned. “If we must do this quickly, please [Teleport] to the Mage Guild, instead. They have spaces for this, and the Bank is runed against [Teleport].”

“Fair enough!”

Poi took Erick’s hand. The two of them flashed white, blipping away.

- - - -

The trip to the bank was a really, really nice trip.

Erick had wanted to set up his account to automatically give 1.5 percent of monthly earnings to the Church, and also to check his balance, his deposits, and everything else about his bank account. They led Erick to a nice, partially private room just off the banking floor, where a nice young man served him hot tea, where he waited for an older woman teller to prepare and deliver all of his banking information. The greyscale worked fast. Erick only had to wait ten minutes while all of his information was gathered. The greyscale gently advised him that if he did not wish to wait, that he could always make an appointment, but Erick wasn’t in any rush.

When his information was finally brought to him, he was, at first, bewildered. And then he was happy.

Like, really, really happy.

“Oh my gods,” Erick breathed out, reading the numbers the teller had given him. He was filthy rich. Beyond the necessary amount to live, for sure. He contained his happiness to a simple overflowing smile. Reading a slightly different set of numbers, he saw ten different deposits for 25,000 gold in the last three weeks, along with a lump sum 131,000 gold paid in the last few days, all from the same account. That account was number 000-000-001. It had to be the Headmaster’s. Holy shit, that was a lot of money! Erick mumbled, “The Light Slime dungeon must be working well.” He smiled wider. He giggled. He laughed. He said, “It’s time to start enchanting again!”

The teller asked, “Will you be wishing to withdraw any rads today?”

“No no no.” Erick said, “I’m gonna hunt for those. I will need a way to use this money to pay for materials, though. Metals and such.”n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

The teller nodded, and said, “Any Mage Guild Bank the world over will be able to draw on your funds, as per usual, but getting liquid funds does take time.”

“Right. Right. I already knew that. Oh!” Erick said, “I need to set up a 1.5% monthly tithe on earning to the Interfaith Church of Spur.”

“Easily accomplished.” The greyscale pulled out a drawer behind her desk, and pulled out a sheet of paper. “One percent is normal. Are you sure you wish for 1-point-5?”

“Yes.”

The greyscale began writing.

Erick signed and dated five sheets of paperwork. It was the most paperwork Erick had done in the last year, not counting Oceanside studying, of course. Erick got out of the Bank feeling a lot better about his own stability, and the fact that he could easily afford the promise he had made to Delia. That was never in doubt, not really. But actually seeing the number in front of him, and not being drunk like he was yesterday, really helped to cement that he was doing rather well in this strange world.

Still… ‘Ruling Class’? Erick didn’t like that.

- - - -

After the Bank, Erick thought no more about his supposed ‘political status’ as he turned his thoughts to enchanting and [Control Weather] and other issues. He had walked out of the Mage Guild to get to the Bank, but now he walked back into the Mage Guild, looking to solve some more problems and pick up some more answers from the Guild Library. Both times he looked for Anhelia, but both times she was not there at the front desk.

Anhelia caught up to him while he was speaking to the orangescale librarian, Tamarim, about finding specific books.

Anhelia did not look happy, exactly, upon seeing Erick, but she didn’t look angry, either. Her iron ‘skin’ was creased, while her eyes seemed slightly hollow. Was it possible for wrought to age? Or was she just tired? Whatever the case, Erick was glad she was here. What had she learned about Candlepoint since last they spoke?

“Ah, good. You are here today,” Erick said, as he turned away from Tamarim. “I didn’t see you out there when I came through the first time.”

Anhelia said, “I need to speak with you.” She sent, ‘I am very busy, so it will be quick, and [Telepathy] is good enough of a security barrier.’

Erick paused. He tentatively sent, ‘Okay. You seem distraught? Is something wrong?’

‘I will be blunt: Are you working with the Shades?’

Erick had a supreme moment of disbelief. He smiled a little. Was Anhelia fucking with him? Surely she must be fucking with him. But as the moment came and went, and she studied Erick with serious eyes, her words weren’t funny anymore. Disbelief turned to hurt, turned to anger, then rage. Rage was quickly subsumed by utter disconnect, as Erick felt unmoored; lost, and not himself.

He had been accused of some pretty awful things during his lifetime. From child neglect, when Jane was in gradeschool and always so angry, to purposefully harming the lives of those he tried to guide through the byzantine systems of assistance back on Earth, to even worse accusations by people seemingly much angrier than Anhelia, like when Krakina called him a Wizard. At the time, Erick didn't truly recognize that insult for what it was, but now, he knew that Krakina had called him one of the worst things one can call another, on Veird.

When people got angry that they didn’t get what they wanted, and needed, they lashed out at whoever was nearby. It was a truth as universal here as it was on Earth. With that in mind, was Anhelia lashing out, right now? Or was she genuinely testing Erick on his loyalty to the cause? Erick would have thought an 800 year old person would be beyond a primal, emotional response.

So? Was this a test of some sort?

Erick soothed his anger down, down, down. He breathed. He breathed again. He looked her straight in the eyes, and sent, ‘No. I want to kill them all.’

Anhelia looked into his eyes, too. ‘Then why did you give Bulgan a specific trigger to start the war? That puts the power in his pocket and you deeper into their shit.’ She rapidly demanded, ‘Are you working with them?’

‘I am not working with the Shades. But I am starting to reconsider working with

you.’ Erick sent, ‘I am ending this conversation here, before we both end up saying something irreparably hurtful.’

Anhelia sent, ‘If you can’t handle harsh questions—’

‘I can handle a lot, Anhelia, but I can’t handle being compared to a Shade.’ He stared at her, ‘Are you coming at me because I don’t want to see people hurt? Because I need to feed and uplift those who are unwitting puppets, but who could also become their own people, if given time?’

‘Shadelings are disposable tools of the Shades, Erick. You are forgetting this essential fact.’

‘I am not forgetting anything, but I will admit that I am trying to see past their origins in a way that is perhaps foolish.’ His thoughts laced with venom, as he sent, ‘All I can say, is that it’s gonna hurt me something deep and horrible when they finally drop the act and I have to kill them all.’

Anhelia frowned at Erick for a long moment. Then she cut their mental connection, lost her frown, and walked away.

Erick was too mad to look at books right now, but he tried to play off what had happened; there were students sitting in desks nearby trying not to look at him, and sweating a bit too much to be natural. He put on a happy face, and turned back to the librarian’s desk.

Tamarim stopped staring at him from the corner of his eyes, from two meters away. He fully faced Erick, plastering on his own smile, as he stepped closer. “So where were we? Enchanting?”

Erick listed his needs, “How to enchant a Grand [Prestidigitation] Stove. Weather patterns from Farmer’s Almanacs, or whatever sources you deem useful for understanding the weather and wind patterns of the Crystal Forest. I also want some books on the uses of auras, or aura work, or something to give an overview of what an aura is capable of achieving.” Erick paused. He had a brilliant thought that demanded he act upon it, so that would come next. He said to Tamarim, “I’ll come back for it all, later.”

Tamarim nodded, saying, “Sure thing, archmage.”

“Thank you, Tamarim.”

Erick got the hell out of there, and went to a friend’s house.

- - - -

The Sewerhouse was only two stories tall.

That was the first thing that Erick noticed, and that tore him out of his anger at Anhelia. The gold building had been three stories tall for quite a while. Ever since Erick and Jane had opted to live upstairs, in fact, back when they were first finding their feet. But even when the place was rebuilt after the Red Dot attack it had remained at three stories so that Savral and Bacci could move in together up there.

Why was the Sewerhouse only two stories tall, now?

His anger at Anhelia temporarily forgotten, Erick strode past the wardlight slime sculptures near the entrance, through the open double doors. Purplescaled Bacci stood behind the main counter, where grain and powder sized rads were on display under glass, for sale to the public. Her face fell for a moment, before she put on a professional smile.

Savral was nowhere to be seen. He usually stood next to the door, wearing his big black armor. Instead, there was a stranger. An orcol man in steel armor. This man flinched as Erick’s appraising glance raced from the man’s helmet to his greaves, but remained silent.

Erick tore his gaze away from the steel encased man, then thumbed at the stranger as he asked Bacci, “What’s going on?”

Bacci’s smile faltered. She said, “Hello, archmage. If you’re looking for Al, he’s out in the city, helping people close up in time for the Ballooning Spiders.”

Erick had, of course, seen the new stone bars and smaller windows that had been put up across the city, as well as various shaping crews doing the [Stoneshape]ing, but that wasn’t why Erick was here. His purpose in coming here was at least two fold. He wanted to know more about auras from the person who had turned him on to auras and the Focus Stat in the first place, and he wanted to know more about what had happened last night. Erick barely remembered any of it, and some of it might not have actually happened.

But now, Erick latched on to the only question he had, “Did something happen to Savral?”

Bacci frowned. “A lot has happened to that man. Did you not know? Did Al not speak to you about any of this?”

“I have no idea what is happening right now, Bacci.” Erick said, “Except for seeing Al last night at the bar and with Mog, he’s been distant. What happened to Savral?”

Bacci looked bewildered for a moment, then said, “Savral is gone.”

“What!”

“It’s… complicated. It started when we had a fight last week.” Bacci explained, “He’s been forgetful ever since the Red Dot. Small things, usually. Not that important. He’s still him. But… he was having trouble with cooking some steaks. He forgot his spices. I kept saying he was missing bluebottle. He kept saying that bluebottle didn’t taste right to him; that it was the wrong answer. I don’t know how it got larger than that, but it did. Al got involved. Anger happened—” She shut her mouth. She continued, “He left the Sewerhouse, and I moved back in with my old roommate. The rest of his team is already chasing him down, trying to find wherever he went.” She got mad, demanding, “Did Al not ask you to help look for him?”

“No. He did not.”

Bacci glared. “I don’t know what the fuck happened between you two, but that’s just asinine!” She asked, “Would you help look for him?”

Erick summoned an Ophiel, and then another, and sent them outside the city, “Of course I’ll help! I didn’t even know—”

“You didn’t know, because I didn’t want you to know.”

Erick turned around. Al stood in the doorway to the Sewerhouse. Al glanced at the guy in plate armor. The guy just nodded, then stepped out of the building, closing the double doors behind him.

Al said to Bacci, “I told you not to involve Erick.”

Bacci threw her arms up, saying, “He came here! And someone had to involve him! You weren’t!”

“Bacci.” Al calmly said, “I am saying this as nicely as I can: You need to stop pushing Savral. I already know where he is, and so does the rest of his team. The only one who hasn’t been told is you, because you need to stop pushing him.”

Bacci’s eyes glittered purple as she spat fire, saying, “You utter asshole! I cannot believe that—”

“Leave, now, before we both start saying things we regret.” Al said, “Take a few days to get over your anger.”

Bacci went still. Her eyes glowed fully purple. She stared at Al. Al stared at her. Bacci tore her gaze away from Al as she stepped away from the counter. Without looking at anyone else, she opened the doors to the Sewerhouse, and walked away. She said something nasty to the new guy out there about snitching to the boss, but the new guy said nothing to her.

Al turned to Poi.

Poi stepped away, and out the doors. He shut them behind him.

Al turned to Erick. “Hello, again.”

“What’s happened, Al?” Erick asked, deeply concerned. “Is Savral okay? I mean. Obviously he’s not. But? What’s going on?”

“It is not your concern, but thank you anyway.” Al put on a smile. The large, brown orcol man stepped to the side of the sales floor and sat down on a large, plush chair, next to one of the four fountains of the room. He gestured to a similar chair, across from his. “Come. Sit down. I would like to talk.”

Erick took a seat. “Good I want to talk too— Uh...”

Al looked deeply uncomfortable. Ah. Shit. This was about last night, wasn’t it?

Al breathed deep. He centered himself, and said, “So. You helped someone with their Aloethag given Quest, recently.”

“… That’s not at all where I thought you were going with this.”

Al nodded. “Yes. Well. If you had thought that I would ever willingly talk about hidden facts of orcol society, I would have been surprised. I am glad to see that Mind Mage confidentiality remains intact. None of us orcols like to talk about it, but it must be done in this case.” He paused. He asked, “Did you truly believe that there would be no repercussions from spilling blood in the name of a Goddess?”

“When you say it like that, obviously I should have seen something coming.” Erick asked, “But what about Savral?”

Al blinked long, then said, “My son is fine. His team is keeping watch over him, as he would have done for them.” He added, “We are not talking about Savral. We are talking about what you did for Aloethag, and what she enabled to happen between you, me, and Mog.”

Erick frowned, saying nothing, trying to understand what was happening.

“Gods above, I almost feel like your teacher again.” Al continued, “In the process of adding blood to the Red Ocean, you have become a part of the Red Ocean. Since you are not an orcol, most of that does not matter. But it does open a certain part of yourself to the rest of us.” He asked, “What do you think happened last night?”

“I went to the bars with Teressa to celebrate her Quest completion...” Erick looked at Al. “None of that happened, did it?”

“I’m sure you did go to the bars. But I was asleep in my bed upstairs. When I was out in the city this morning, I talked to Mog. She was also asleep last night.” He breathed deep. He said, “Starting from the beginning, here is what you must understand: The Rage is not an affliction. It is a part of us, like a leg or an ear, but it does not exist individually. It is an ocean in which every orcol existence flows together. Some call it the Dreaming. I was raised to call it the Red Ocean. Orcols are naturally born with this part of themselves connecting them to everyone else in their tribe, while larger individuals form the basis for rivers between communities. Some say that the Red Ocean is a variation of the power of the Mind Mage, and that is likely true. But for us, it is a community bond. A bond that has been usurped by Aloethag.

“For her part, she stabilizes the Red Ocean, to ensure that when one person Rages, the rest of us don’t follow them to War. Some see her as Evil for doing this, for taking our power for herself, but most see her as an unfortunate necessity.

“But because of her position and power, she is able to induct others into the Red Ocean. I’m sure you can see where this is going.” He asked, “How much blood was your Quest for?”

Erick suddenly felt like he was in very deep shit. He said, “Ten million.”

“Ten million?!” Al stared at the ceiling. He repeated, quieter, “Ten million… I guess she saw an opportunity, so she took it. You’re going to have weird dreams for a year, at least. I’ve already spoken to Mog. She’s shoring up her own defenses, and I will do the same. I assume it was Teressa who Raged? She got the same Quest?”

Erick felt a profound embarrassment. What had he actually done? He muttered, “Yes.”

Al said, “Good news: Unless something awful happens, she won’t have to worry about the Rage for ten years.”

“What’s the bad news?”

Al huffed a small laugh. “You’re going to have Red Dreams for a while. There likely won’t be a repeat between us three, now that Mog and I are on the lookout for such a thing. As long as you don’t have any strong feelings toward any other orcols, then that will be the extent of your problems.”

“Sorry.” Erick said, “I thought I was at the bar, and… I don’t remember most of it.” He said, “If this was my fault, I really did not mean to do that to you—”

“Stop. It wasn’t you that did this. It wasn’t anyone, really. Even Aloethag isn’t truly to blame, though she does bear a large part. All she did was give you the key, and you, unknowing, used it.” Al looked a bit uncomfortable, as he said, “Just… don’t think about it, too much. Every orcol goes through this when they’re younger. You’ll get a handle on it soon enough, and since you’re not an orcol, your connection to the Red Ocean will fade over time. It’s not a big deal if you don’t make it a big deal.”

Erick suddenly felt worried, on a fundamental level. “I have to ask: Was this an… an involuntary sex act committed against you?”

Al sighed. “There is a major difference between what is done in the Red Ocean and what happens in the Waking—”

"That's not what I asked. I asked if this was a violation."

Al's eyes went wide. "... What! Gods no!” Al shook his head in disbelief. “Your— our Red Dream happened because everyone wanted it to happen, so it did!” He muttered, “Gods above. The Red Ocean as… That? No.” He frowned directly at Erick. “Don’t say that to anyone else. It was very rude.”

“… Oh.” Erick watched as Al’s face turned a shade darker. “Oh.”

Al had wanted that their connection to happen. And so had Mog. That’s why it happened.

Al said, “And it won’t happen again.”

Erick blanked. Then he joked, “So it’s like orcol puberty?”

Al leveled a frown at Erick. “I suppose, from a certain angle.”

“So that fact you shared about a shaped [Cleanse]—”

“Nope!” Al discarded an unwanted smile, quickly returning to a calm, if embarrassed, facade. “We’re not doing that.”

“Just a simple, consensual sex dream?”

Al said, “And it didn’t mean anything.”

“Well… if it was consensual, then it could happen again. Maybe for real this time, too. I wouldn’t be opposed.”

Al laughed. “I would break you.”

“Gotcha. I just need to learn [Greater Treat Wounds], first.” Erick nodded sagely. “I need to learn that spell, anyway.”

Al laughed again, tearing his sight away from Erick. Erick just watched, slightly smiling, as Al laughed louder, like he needed a laugh. Like he needed some joy in his life.

Erick ruined the mood. “I’m sorry that Savral isn’t okay.”

Al came down from his joy. After a long moment, he said, “Savral was… hurt in the Red Dot attack, but he came back from that. It’s not good right now, but it’ll get better.” He said, “That’s what his friends tell me, anyway.”

“Aside from all of that, how’ve you been?”

“… It’s been rough.” Al said, “Aside from last night’s dream, I probably could have enjoyed going out to an actual bar with you.”

Erick smiled wide. “Then let’s do that tonight!”

“Aye.” Al nodded. “Okay.” He sternly added, “It’s not a date, though.”

Erick smiled.

- - - -

Feeling much better about a lot of things, including his friendship with Al, and a lot weirder about other things, including the Red Ocean, Erick made his way back to the Mage Guildhouse to pick up some books. The orangescale librarian, Tamarim, had gathered nine books to fulfill Erick’s triple request. Three on enchanting Grand [Prestidigitation] Stoves, one on the weather of the Crystal Forest, two on the weather of Veird, and three on auramancy. All of them were normal publications put out by the Arcanaeum Consortium, so Erick did not have read them there in the library, like a normal student of the arcane arts. He bought them all for a few hundred gold, total, and took them home.

Back home, he put on a pot of coftea, and sat down in his library to read.

After a while, Poi showed up.

“Sir.” Poi said, “Ballooning Spiders are dropping on Kal’Duresh. The Baroness is requesting your assistance with [Withering].”

Erick immediately closed his book on weather and set down his coftea. “Tell her that help is on the way. What about Spur, though?” He began summoning Ophiel. “When will they drop here?”

“Eventually. You will be informed when it happens.”

“That’s fine.” Erick had an idea. “Ask the Baroness if they’re okay with a bit of unconventional weather magic.”

Ophiels popped into the air, twittering in flutes. They were excited to be out and about. There was work to be done!

Poi looked to the air. After a moment, he came back to himself. “They already have Wind Mages working on diverting most of the swarm to outside the walls, using [Nature’s Fury] and other assorted spells. She is authorizing the use of [Withering], and nothing else.” He looked to Erick. “I think she thinks you’re talking about [Call Lightning].”

Erick almost spilled his coftea in surprise, “You ‘think’ that? Did you just offer an interpretation, Poi? Oh my gods!” Erick joked, “I must report you to your betters!”

Poi frowned.

Erick smiled. He said, “Let her think what she wants. Tell her I just want the opportunity to try something that might work well.”

Poi eventually answered, “She says to go ahead.”

Erick smiled.