Wrath filled Erick’s brain and chest and forearms like he was being stabbed by knives made of ice.

He sat up in his chair. He was inside his yurt. Poi sat upon his own bed, to the side, looking away from Erick, seeming as if he had failed to do something important.

With a level voice, Erick told Poi, “I need you to tell me why you look guilty.”

Teressa was outside, sitting in her large chair on the front porch. At Erick’s tone, she whipped her head around and got up. In a second, she was inside the yurt. Jane followed her inside with a suddenly concerned look upon her face. Nirzir was still inside the yurt, but she was just reading. When she heard the tension in Erick’s voice it hit her like the sudden breaking of glass; she had no idea what was going on, but she was worried.

Poi breathed. He said, “You never spoke to me about your talk with Linxel and you offered the man confidentiality, which he took and you honored, so I had no way to tell you that I thought it was a very, very bad idea to have a break in your conversation with that man.”

There were other words Poi was not saying, but Erick could guess at those. Perhaps, he knew that there were face stealers among Green Grass, for the Mind Mages would certainly know of all that. It’s just that the Mind Mages were also sworn to never reveal what they know to others.

Erick felt crushed in an entirely new way. “You should have just told me, Poi.”

“I cannot.” He softly said, “I cannot tell you what goes on in the minds of others, or what I think might happen, based on that knowledge.” A bit stronger, he said, “Confidentiality is sacred. Even you know this. I had to pretend like I saw nothing.” Poi said, “But I can say that based on what you are seeing now, that the individual confidentiality you promised Linxel is no longer applicable, for even if his face has not been stolen, Linxel might be soul fucked. Perhaps this is some ploy? Someone wants you to attack the potential face stealer and show that your promise of non-violence is a lie. Perhaps, at the very least, they want you to show that you will break confidentiality whenever it suits you.”

Erick already knew everything that Poi was saying, but sometimes the words needed to be said for the others in the area. Jane certainly heard what he was saying; she focused on a smaller part of Poi’s words, though. 

Jane looked at Erick, her words filled with dangerous undertones, “The warlord you met was Hunted?”

Erick quickly explained to everyone, “His soul was dark blue and now it is sky blue, and [Telepathy] returns static. He might have had a traumatizing recent event, but I don’t think so.” Erick’s gaze shifted back to the Ophiel still floating near the Twin Rocks, still only a stone’s throw from the yurt of the man in question. “When I last saw Linxel, with the dark blue soul, he spoke of how he did not want to uncover the face stealers in his midst, for there were dragons in there too, for sure. I spoke of how I would help him and other True Traveler clans to counter-Hunt those evils, and then he said he would need some time to talk to some people. And now… He does not want my help to counter-Hunt. He is moving to block my attempt to join in the debates at Ooloraptoor. And now, [Telepathy] to Linxel returns static, and his soul is a different color and—” Erick stopped talking. He was repeating himself.

Jane said, “They had to know you would see something.”

Nirzir rapidly said, “Surely they knew. Just like with the Headmaster, Erick’s known abilities are highly documented. Everyone knows you have all the normal mana sensing abilities and others besides, and dragons are not stupid unless they’re near other dragons. Whoever did this had to know you would see something.”

Teressa stared daggers at nothing in particular, then she turned and asked, “Could someone be using hostages against this guy? One of his family members killed and the other held under danger, in order to make him change his mind? I would think a warlord would be hardened against such soul shifts, but it could happen.”

… That was a very good point.

Now that a few minutes had passed, and he had talked to everyone else, he had gained some perspective on the situation. Perhaps it wasn’t as bad as it appeared to be? Maybe? Erick breathed deep, then let it all go. He was glad he had taken a moment. Now, he knew what he needed to do.

Jane saw his sudden resolve. She said, “Be subtle, dad. But be vicious.”

“That is the new plan. Thank you, everyone.” Erick added, “Be on the watch for some sort of nearby attack. Ophiel is already on high alert.”

With hard-edged feathers and narrowed eyes, Ophiel fluffed himself upon the perch. Every Ophiel everywhere whistled a dangerous guitar thrum; He was ready for shit to hit the fan. Everyone else began to get ready, too. Conjured armor and weapons. Spellworks of various kinds.

Nirzir’s white skin turned pearlescent, as she tentatively asked, “What should I do?”

“I would like you on anti-attack protocol.” Erick said, “Don’t expend power trying to destroy; try to preserve all the life you can.”

Nirzir looked suddenly relieved. She nodded.

“And one last thing, just to check.” Erick looked to Poi. “Would the Mind Mages ever be willing to forgo their silence and help end this worldwide threat of face stealers and Hunters?”

Everyone looked to Poi.

Poi said, “I have been told that we tried that. Historically. It did not work out for us.”

“I wish to be briefed on that later.”

Poi paused, then he slowly nodded.

Erick turned his gaze back toward Clan Green Grass.

- - - -

Barely five minutes had passed since Erick had first seen that Linxel was gone.

‘Linxel’ had vanished into his yurt three minutes ago. A few clansmen hung out on Linxel’s porch, sitting by the entrance to the warlord’s yurt. Those clansmen now looked Ophiel’s way, wondering why he was still here. Had any of those people been replaced since Erick was last here? Maybe.

Erick’s three Ophiel and his chairs and perch remained where they were. His half-feathered lightform self had remained ‘standing’ on the ground beside his chair, unmoving since Linxel’s public proclamation.

And what an announcement that had been!

Clan Green Grass was a clan of several smaller groups that all traveled separately; just like Clan Pale Cow. This particular group of people camped out at Twin Rocks numbered around 200, which was an average number. According to Erick’s oversight of their whole compound, about half of the people were outside of their yurts, doing something. Eating, cooking, milking cows, making leather goods; whatever. Most of those people were now watching Erick and Linxel’s yurt. About twenty of those people were looking at Erick with disguised hate in their eyes, wishing for him to go away.

Some people noticed that each Ophiel held spiky silver shields around their tiny sunforms, and they knew what they were seeing; Erick could tell by the quiet panic happening in their eyes and in their hearts.

Erick flexed Ophiel’s lightform and his feathered avatar took a single step forward, toward Clan Green Grass. A few people subtly panicked, but no one did anything besides watch. A few more people came out of yurts here and there, for they heard something happening, and they needed to see. Erick took ten steps toward Green Grass, and then he stopped.

He had an Ophiel turn off their [Greater Lightwalk] and turn on their [Physical Domain], and then Erick quietly spoke through the nearest three kilometers of space, “I am searching for someone. Please pay no mind to the light that shows up around you.”

Many onlookers instantly ducked back into their yurts.

A [Cascade Imaging] blossomed in the air above—

A dark blot of shadows came out of Linxel’s yurt and erased the spell as it was forming, as the imposter burst out of his yurt, running toward Ophiel as he called out, “Go away, Erick! You are not wanted here! Shadeling puppeteer! Master of Shades! Sword of Melemizargo!” He stopped twenty meters from Erick’s avatar, saying, “I give you the chance to leave now, before we come down on you like the righteous hand of Sumtir!”

Ah.

It was going to be like that, eh?

An Ophiel in the sky cast a spell.

Far above, a star appeared. Abyss swelled. Tendrils of light and shadow danced down from darkened heavens, at the same time Erick’s avatar solidified into something more. The pressure of solid light crashed out of him, like a contained [Force Wave], cracking the ground, scattering dirt as Erick remained standing in the air above a widening crater.

‘Linxel’ did not like this.

The fake warlord cast a dangerous magic at Erick, but Extreme Light from the Star above stripped the man’s spell from the air before whatever it was got a meter from Linxel’s apoplectic form. Linxel tried again, and failed again. He tried to summon armor, and a weapon, and all his power broke away like so much scattered magic. He did not try to run, though.

Other people tried to blip away, but [Teleport] failed. Others tried to fight against the thing in the sky with ineffectual [Dispel]s, like Linxel had done against Erick’s [Cascade Imaging], but not a single person spent enough mana to overcome the Star, and the Star was already pulling far, far ahead of what anyone here was capable of breaking. Others tried [Ward]s to protect themselves from the staring abyss above. Some prepared for melee, but their conjured weapons broke as they were cast.

Extreme Light broke every attempt at magic, for all was under Erick’s power, if not his Domain as well, and all resources were sucked away by the growing abyss above. Some people got the bright idea to simply physically run, but for those people, Ophiel merely appeared in front of them and blipped them back into the center of town, into a suddenly-prepared holding tank of [Quick Wall]s, shaped into a bowl. There were some minor issues when someone tried to cast a spell to get out of the tank, and the [Luminosity] anti-magic spellwork of [Undertow Star] ate away at Erick’s own [Force Walls], but Erick patched up those problems quick enough. No one escaped.

Into this mess, Erick cast a [Cascade Imaging] large enough to cover all of Clan Green Grass, with the Imaging sized to the full kilometer spread of the clan. White mist began to appear on the edges of all surfaces, but the map was too big; it would take minutes to come into existence. Erick had time, now, though.

Some cows started to freak out. Erick didn’t need to deal with the cows, for some level-headed cowherds were calming them down with calm voices and commanding presences.

Erick’s voice was an airy thing that dominated the world, overriding all other voices, “Here is what happened, for those of you not in the know: Linxel met with me. We discussed the culling of face stealers among your people, and among your allies. And then he asked me for three hours to think about it. I assume he went to some other people in the meantime, to speak of what we spoke about.

“Normally, I would not speak of what happened behind a Privacy for I honor the idea of confidentiality. But now, Linxel, if this person who looks like Linxel even is Linxel anymore, has decided not to counter-Hunt the face stealers among your people. If this was all that had happened, I would have gone away. But as you can guess, something else has happened.” Erick said, “Linxel’s soul was dark blue not three hours ago, and now it is sky blue. This could mean a few different things, but when I tried to contact him through [Telepathy], all I got was static.”

A good twenty people gasped. Many others fell silent in contemplation. For some, panic started to give way to cold realization. For others, their panic only heightened.

Erick had hundreds of eyes and several mana senses open and active across all of Clan Green Grass by now. He watched a few people try to contact Linxel, or other people, but their spells were canceled by the [Undertow Star] in the sky. They gasped as they met static, too. That… could be a problem.

Before too much of a misunderstanding could take place, Erick added, “You’re all under a suppression effect right now, so those [Telepathy]s you tried will meet with static. When I am done with my investigation of what has happened here, then I will retract that suppression, and you can resume normal operations. At that time, we will all know what happened to Linxel, and if other people here were involved in what happened to him. Speaking of which, it looks like the map is finally populating.”

Erick had also cast normal Imagings far outside of this place, looking for more tracers from Linxel, but this map here might give specific, interesting information, which was why he layered it across the whole of Clan Green Grass. As the second white star in the sky finally began punching a map out of the mist rising out of Green Grass, it was only a matter of time before it began shifting parts of it to blue, to show the locations of Linxel’s DNA.

Erick already had a suspicion which people were fake, and which were real, based upon their reactions to his proclamation, but actual proof would go a long way toward a proper outcome to the day’s shit show. Of those who had tried to run, all ten of which were now all contained in a see-through area of solid Force in the center of the clan, all had looks of terrible realization upon their faces, as though all of their crimes were finally coming for them. Some of the smarter ones did not run, though. There were undoubtedly some face stealers hiding among the rest of the clansmen, and Erick could not forget ‘Linxel’ himself.

From twenty meters away, the warlord stared at Erick’s avatar, looking down his nose, saying nothing because he could not speak; he had tried at first, but Erick’s [Physical Domain] prevented him. He did not smile. He did not try to move, or to fight. He just watched as Erick did what Erick wanted to do. Linxel certainly looked vindicated, though.

Linxel looked a bit more blue than before, too. His skin was already dark blue, like his soul used to be, but now a cerulean glow began to rise up from his skin.

All around the clan, the same cerulean glow began to overlay the white map of the area.

Erick said, “If you look around you, some of you might see a blue glow. This is where Linxel has recently been. This blue glow is a track. As expected, your leader gets around your land. This is normal.” Ophiels flew through the clan, letting Erick see what he needed to see. He saw a lot. “Some of you have marks on your faces and hands. If you shook his hand recently, or if he spit on you, then that would explain some of these sights. But I doubt Linxel went around spitting on people, now did he!”

One man, who was eighty, was already looking at his wife, who was likely also 80, but who had blue all upon her hands and on a stripe down her face. And a little bit in her hair. The wife stared at her husband as he stared at her, his eyes going wide, her eyes narrowing.

This was not the only pairing to be subject to such an event.

Not many people were marked in blue like this. Maybe only thirty or forty people in the whole clan. But they were clearly blue, and in an odd, splashing sort of way. Some markings were old, and a dimmer sort of blue. Some were very recent, and bright, bright blue.

Erick discarded the idea that there were orgies happening among Green Grass rather quickly, though.

There was no blue upon the lips that wasn’t already on the whole face. There were no beds covered in blue except for Linxel’s own (along with most of his yurt, but that was to be expected). Mostly, though, there was nothing that indicated that these blue markings were anything but blood splatter, and on a level that Erick did not expect to find.

Yes; people in these sorts of places sparred with swords and other weapons all the time. Some blood was to be expected. But not this much. Not this recent, or in such quantity, though.

Erick was rapidly arriving at an odd conclusion...

“You know...” Erick had arrived at the center of the camp, at the people he had contained behind [Force Walls]. “I doubt all these people here were extremely sexually active with Linxel in the past few hours. Just look at them. They’re covered in Linxel’s markers. So the only explanation is that they got a lot of Linxel’s blood on them. And why would that happen? Do training exercises around here often result in one’s leader getting most of his blood put on the outside? Doubtful. I saw no Blood Magic books in Linxel’s yurt, so I doubt he’s a Blood Mage.”

All ten people who tried to run, who Erick contained inside [Force Wall]s, were practically glowing blue. Some of them almost fully.

Many people in the clan had come out when Erick’s calm voice gave no hint of true violence. Many people were actually outraged that Linxel didn’t want to do a proper face stealer search, though Erick had cut off many of those conversations when he extended his silencing into the clan.

Erick relaxed his silence, now.

The mooing of cows returned, first, though he kept those kinda quiet. He had kept an eye on the cows, too, and some of them were blue, but that was to be expected since everyone worked with the cows. None of them had blood splatter on them, though. (Wouldn’t that be odd if the face stealers hid as cows before they Hunted their targets? That’s a pretty sinister way to Hunt, but it would probably work rather well.)

Erick waited for people to start talking.

Still, no one spoke.

Erick asked the people in the pen, for the benefit of those outside, “Did you attack Linxel as a group? Did you meet him somewhere, and then kill him in an ambush?”

No one spoke.

He didn’t really need them to speak, though, at least not for his own proof. When he started speaking he saw the truth of what had happened in their intakes of breath, and in their thrumming hearts, and in the micro expressions of their faces. He did need them to speak for the benefit of everyone else, though.

The person wearing Linxel’s body had followed Erick into the center of the clan, and now he spoke for everyone else, “You poor delusional man. Fighting the Shades really fucked you up, didn’t it.”

Erick ignored the liar and began lightly plucking samples from every single person inside the Walled space. No one in the immediate area noticed the small bits of light that touched the back of a leg, or the side of a thigh; not when light and shadow was twisting down from above, and the Health and Mana of everyone in the entire clan was being stripped away. Most people were long since empty of Resources, by now, so it was much less scary than it had been, but it was still easy to hide his sample-taking among the twisting light.

He took some time to look around, too, to see what effect his words were having on Clan Green Grass. A few people had completely moved on from the drama happening around Erick and ‘Linxel’. They were consumed with the problem staring them in the face: the blue markers they saw upon the faces and hands of their loved ones.

An old man asked his old wife, “Where were you an hour ago?”

To which the old wife replied, “I’m a Healer, you dolt! People were injured in training! That’s probably all the archmage’s blood magic is pointing at.”

The old man frowned. “But that’s Linxel’s marker upon you. And no one has been able to touch him in combat in a long time. The only time he’s ever suffered a loss was that one time when he took on twenty people at… once...”

The old woman said nothing.

The old man stepped away from his wife, his eyes going wide as the full situation registered. Erick could practically read the guy’s mind. ‘Why isn’t she defending herself more’. ‘There has to be an explanation’. ‘Why isn’t she telling me the truth?’.

The old man whispered, “But we talk telepathically every night… Except when we didn’t for a whole month. You had headaches, you said… that was almost three years ago.”

The old woman said nothing. She didn’t have to.

One of three people asked the fourth person in their group, “I saw you go with Toizag to the river but I didn’t think anything of it. You still hate him, don’t you?”

To which the fourth person replied, “I made up with him.”

And then another person in the group said, “But that doesn’t explain why Linxel’s blue is on your face. And on your knife. It looks like smeared blood. It looks like [Cleanse]d blood splatter.”

The fourth person said nothing.

The rest of their group backed away from the fourth.

All around the clan, variations of a scene played out.

And then a woman, middle-aged, probably a mother, walked away from her yurt and headed toward the Walled space in the center of camp. She headed straight for one of the people inside, who was younger; her son, based on looks.

Outwardly, Linxel was the picture of calm professionalism. Inwardly, he was panicking.

The woman stood on one side of the transparent Wall and asked her blue-marked son, “You went with Kuli somewhere an hour ago, didn’t you?” When the son said nothing, the mother turned to the left, asking a young man also inside the Walled space, “Kuli… Where did you take my son?”

The son blurted out, “You don’t believe the mad archmage, do you, mom! It’s me! We spoke through [Telepathy] just last week!”

Kuli, the other boy, completely straight-faced, said, “We broke into Linxel’s yurt while he was away to steal his spare armor and we wore it. It’s fucken’ embarrassing! But we ain’t no face stealers.”

“Yeah!” The son said, “That’s what we did!”

The mother gave a serious nod; she believed her kid. She turned toward Erick’s avatar, and said, “You heard the boys. Please let them go.”

Erick said, “While I was doing this, here, I checked for markers for every one of the people in this pen.” He conjured a thousand kilometer map of the greater area onto the ground outside of the pen, large enough for everyone to see. Then he conjured an image of the place he had found. It was a trio of rocks, the size of the Twin Rocks, near a different river to the west. Erick suspected it was called Three Rocks, though he did not know. “Can anyone tell me the significance of this place?”

Instantly, almost every single person who had Linxel’s markers on them went tense. A few who were clean went tense, too. Some people with markers gave no reaction. Though there were sure to be some false positives and negatives, but if what he was seeing was correct, Erick was pretty sure that he counted twenty three face stealers among the hundred people here. Since a hundred people were still out in the field, there was likely a similar number of face stealers among those people, too. Or something to that effect.

The mother of the boy in the box stared at the image. A long, terrible moment passed, as she recognized that Erick was not going to let her boy go, and also that she knew what that meant. Her voice cracked as she named the location in his image, “That— It’s Three Rocks.”

Some people nodded at this.

Erick asked, “Have you been there recently?”

“Not for a year!” said some likely-innocent and very angry man standing off to the side; he had no markers on him at all.

A chorus of confirmations came from other onlookers, while the people in the pen looked more condemned with each passing moment.

Erick said, “This place is about three hundred kilometers to the west. Linxel’s markers are all over the place, alongside the markers of every single person in this pen, and several other people outside of this pen. I have [Witness]ed Three Rocks, and I saw a few of the people here in the surroundings of that space. They were there an hour ago. I likely would have seen the attack, too, but the recent history of the area was erased from the manasphere, so I have no way of knowing what, exactly, happened there, either to Linxel, or to everyone else who attacked him. There are some dark magics happening here. Dark purposes. Evil intent. Face stealers or soul mutilation and probably a combination of both, but I know not what. Not yet. But I will know, and soon.” He turned his avatar toward Linxel, and demanded, “Who are you?”

Linxel smiled a nervous smile, and then he laughed a nervous laugh. And then he sighed, and said, “You just killed my father and sister, Erick. The dragon had them and now they’re dead.”

The clan gasped. A few shouted, “Dragon?!”

“Lies.” Erick said, “Tell me the truth.”

“Tha…” Linxel’s brow furrowed. “That is the truth…” He deflated. “You pompous ass.”

A man in the clan whispered to a nearby person, “But his father and sister have been dead for years? A decade? Right?”

Erick was not the only one to hear the man whisper that. He made a point of turning his avatar the man’s way.

On the other side of the clearing, a woman said, “Yeah! Linxel’s father and sister were killed by a Sky Tether horde twelve years ago!” The woman was about Linxel’s age with dark blue skin and some of his size, but no horns, said, “Linxel’s my cousin and his soul used to be bright blue; I ain’t never seen it, but that’s what the old Speaker said. And then his half of our family was killed by sky tethers and his soul darkened.” She asked Linxel. “Do you not remember that? Linxel?”

Linxel just stared at his cousin, saying nothing, his face set like an uncomprehending stone.

Other people spoke up, confirming Linxel’s family’s fate.

Linxel finally broke. “No! I just saw them. They’re alive!” He roared, “They’re alive! They’re ali—” He twitched. His soul broke inside as his head turned left and his body turned right. He collapsed to the ground—

He was not dead, and Erick made sure that he stayed that way with a quick [Greater Treat Wounds].

Erick declared, “Maybe he was just soul-fucked.” He turned to the people in the force cage. “But these people helped Linxel to get soul-fucked, and I don’t know what that means, yet.”

The people inside the Force cage were already worried, but whereas before they thought they could lie themselves out of their problem, now they knew they could not. Some of them went crazy, screaming obscenities. The face stealer in the form of the woman’s son started bawling. The boy’s ‘friend’ went over and smashed his fist into the son’s face, roaring hate about how much of a terrible Hunter he was.

Erick spoke to the entire clan, “I see you, face stealers. Hunters. Come forth. Now.”

At that, many of the obvious face stealers stopped trying to hide.

Some came forward willingly, like the old woman who claimed to have healed Linxel from a fight, and that’s why she had his blood on her face. Her husband of what he thought was many decades, turned out to only have been her husband for the last three years. The old man looked on as his old wife’s killer and impostor declared the truth of herself. His heart was suddenly heavy with pain, and his eyes heavy with tears. The woman’s name had been that of the Speaker of Green Grass, but when she revealed herself, she said her real name was Roia, and that she was sorry. The old man did not want to hear it.

Erick held back the sudden mob from murdering the woman, because Roia was cooperative and he needed answers. A simple blip extricated Roia from the problem of mob violence, placing her inside the Force box, for now.

The fourth person of the group of three tried to run. Erick blipped the killer into the box in the center.

The less obvious face stealers kept hiding.

Everything got very confusing, very fast.

And then people started to come in from the outside, trying to blip into their clan, but hitting the [Spatial Denial] instead, and ending up disoriented upon the grassy plains.

Erick helped those people with a blip of his own directly to the side of the center of camp. Every time one more person arrived it was a new problem. Sometimes people tried to [Scry] ahead, but [Undertow Star] burst those spells before they could fully manifest.

After an hour, 179 people were under Erick’s [Undertow Star], and there were at least that many private inquisitions happening, everywhere, all at once. None of the face stealers were dead, yet, though some of them would have died if Erick hadn’t healed them from sudden, terrible violence. No one had any Health right now, so everyone was vulnerable to every punch or stone throw, and many of the attackers (and defenders!) had Strength scores in the 50s.

It was all confusing. It was all terrible. The truthstones came out of storage but none of them worked because Erick’s [Undertow Star] was still high in the sky, still Draining everyone and canceling all spells except for his own. There was still a bit of annoyance when [Luminosity] touched some of Erick’s Force spells, but Erick fixed those issues before they became problems. Erick wasn’t about to turn off the Star, though, and when some people asked him to turn it off, others rapidly shouted them down, talking about how the face stealers could get away.

Some people were beyond furious at the face stealers.

Other people had different reactions. Some were quiet. Some broke down. Some people were stuck in disbelief.

The Speaker’s husband came forward, demanding to know who Roia was. Roia could only say that she began to love the old man who was her unexpected husband. The plan had been to replace him, too, but she couldn’t. Erick had to prevent sudden, overwhelming mob violence against her, since it was her fault, as the Speaker, that the anti face stealer protocols had been corrupted so very, very much; that so many people had been turned.

And all the while, Erick watched over the unconscious Linxel.

He watched as something slowly broke inside the man’s soul, and as black soulstuff invaded the rest, like a dark blessing unleashed. Nothing was constrained, nothing was diminished. Nothing was heightened, either. Everything was just… changed.

Erick didn’t know what that meant, exactly, but he was glad that he didn’t go with his first instinct to kill the (possible) impostor.

‘Linxel’ had been an impostor, for sure, but he had just been a different version of himself, perhaps. Perhaps he was a version that was brighter and more easily handled with threats of an entirely mundane nature; with threats against a family that no longer existed. But in the act of soul fucking, the dragon (Maybe it was a dragon, maybe not?) that did the soul mutilation had to have known that they changed Linxel’s soul color. And in that knowing, they knew that this plan (whatever it was supposed to be) had a very high failure rate.

Maybe the dragon deemed the risk as acceptable. A missing Linxel would have set off way too many alarms while an imperfect actor would have been seen through, right away. A perfect actor might have been possible, but to acquire a perfect actor, with the correct soul color, with only a few hours prep? Erick wasn’t sure, but that seemed impossible. Perhaps, whoever set this up was making do with what they had on hand, and what they had was just not good enough to fool him.

But if this man was truly Linxel, then why didn’t [Telepathy] work?

Perhaps, [Telepathy] tried to connect to the soul, but with the soul changed so drastically Linxel truly wasn’t the same person?

Back when Jane guided Champion Yetta through Ar’Kendrithyst, to kill Shade Planter, her soul had changed from Script blue to dark blue. And yet, Erick never lost [Telepathy] contact with her.

Maybe the loss of contact here was because it was an artificial soul shift?

- - - -

Erick briefly came fully back to himself. About an hour had passed so far, with him giving small updates to everyone when he could. Jane, Nirzir, and Poi were still on high alert, but less so, since nothing had happened right away, and whoever had done this likely knew exactly where Erick was already. The only one visibly doing something was Teressa, who was sitting in her chair, her eyes glossed over as she shifted her Sight toward the future, hoping to see something before it happened. Poi was the first to notice that Erick was almost fully back, though.

Erick asked, “Does a mangled soul change how [Telepathy] works? Would that interaction look like a [Telepathy] going to a dead person? I’m not sure how [Telepathy] works, exactly.”

Teressa blinked, her sight coming back to the moment, as she came back to the present. Jane said nothing, for she had no answers. Nirzir had an answer, but held her tongue.

Poi said, “I only know the broadest of answers to that. Hold on.” He glanced away, the tendrils around his head extending outward.

Nirzir spoke, “I think the answer is yes, but I’m not completely sure on that.”

Poi came back almost right away, blurting out, “Sometimes, when a necromancer or soul mage operates on a soul more than a small change, they will accidentally shift the color of the soul, for they have introduced a cascading trauma into that soul, and the shifting of a soul’s color always indicates a large trauma.” He said, “Naturally occurring soul trauma that comes from within does not interfere with normal spellworks and interactions, such as one’s ability to enchant, or to communicate through [Telepathy]. Soul trauma caused by outside sources, such as a Soul Mage or necromancer, almost always interferes with everything the traumatized person does, from spell creation to connecting with [Telepathy] to enchanting. Sometimes, if the shift is not done properly, then such a shift can revert and cause even more damage in the reverting.” Poi looked to Erick, saying, “You need to get Linxel to a proper soul healer. Having him active and whole would go a long way toward fixing the problems of Green Grass.”

All good things to know. From Nirzir’s expression, she didn’t know much of what Poi had explained, either.

Erick agreed with Poi’s assessment, saying, “Please inform the Palace of the Eternal Court that I am bringing them a patient and that I expect prompt service.”

Poi gave a tiny, involuntary gasp, covering the action by saying, “At once.” After a moment, he came back. “Bring the warlord to the eastern courtyard; it’s visible from the air. They’ll have a Soul Healer waiting for him.”

“Thank you.”

While Teressa shivered, Jane winced, and Nirzir frowned a little, Erick cast his gaze back to Green Grass.

- - - -

Ophiel dropped the insensate Linxel upon the soft grasses of the eastern courtyard of the Palace of the Eternal Court, while Erick’s avatar stepped out of the light, to stand beside the soul-fucked or face stolen man; Erick wasn’t quite sure yet.

To the sides of the courtyard, under sloping eaves, were nice yet utilitarian classrooms, where many chairs all faced podiums which stood next to chalkboards. Only a few classes were in session today. Older teenagers poked their heads above window frames, to see Erick and the warlord. A few teachers had stopped what they were doing to allow their charges to view whatever was going to happen outside.

The initiates were marked by a loose, thin gold chain around their neck. The teachers were marked with thicker gold chains, almost like solid bands. Their guards wore no gold at all, as they stood at attention atop the corners of the roof, and down in the corners of the courtyard, their eyes open for anyone trying to enter, or escape. The guards noticed Erick and Ophiel and Linxel, but they did nothing, for they knew what was going on. All of that was just window dressing.

Erick saw the person he was to meet for soul healing, and a tension relaxed from his chest. He could trust this person.

Elder Arilitilo looked exactly the same as before, though it had only been two weeks last he saw her. She looked well. She had students now, too. Five older teens stood behind Ari, each of them wearing small gold chains and nice grey uniform robes; same as all the other students nearby.

Erick rapidly said, “Elder Ari. It is good to see you. Please tell me that you can fix whatever soul fuckery is going on here, or find out what is wrong with him. I need him alive and well because we’re in the middle of an active face stealer situation up north, and he’s the warlord of a clan. I think we’ve got a good hundred face stealers, at least, and other trouble worse than that.”

Ari listened, then she immediately moved to the warlord, saying, “Good afternoon to you too, Archmage Flatt. I was quickly briefed, but it is good to have the whole story.” She knelt down upon the grass and put her hands upon Linxel’s chest. A faint red glow lined her purple skin as her eyes turned from violet to maroon. With an unfocused gaze, she asked, “What do you think happened to him? Exactly?”

Her students looked on, rapt in attention, their eyes shifting from Ari, to Linxel, to Erick, to Ophiel, then settling back to Linxel, to see whatever it was Ari was doing to the man.

Erick explained, “His soul was dark blue when I first met him and he was willing to think about counter-Hunting face stealers. Three hours later, I met him again and his soul was sky blue, and he did not want to deal with the face stealers in his clan, or in any of his allied clans. I escalated. He broke down when he knew he was not going to get his way, saying stuff about how his father and sister were now lost to him. From other people in the clan, I learned that his father and sister were eaten by sky tethers 12 years ago, before he became warlord. When his family had been killed, that was when his soul shifted to a darker color.”

“Okay,” Ari shifted her glowing red hands atop the man’s chest, tapping upon the soul inside and eliciting echoes in return. As she tapped, the fractured dark blue and bright blue parts of Linxel began to even out, like she was untangling knots made of clumpy water. “I understand now. This was a soul shift done improperly and under dire circumstances in an attempt to influence the man in a specific way. Whoever operated on him was highly skilled, but also rushed. Healing unnatural damage is easier than causing damage. It will take an hour to get the warlord walking. Three hours for a full healing. What is his name?”

“Linxel Green Grass.” Erick asked, “Can you tell if he is a face stealer, or not? How would you tell?”

Ari frowned a little, as the light around her hand magnified. “I do not believe he is a face stealer, though I will know more later, once I have had a chance to fully examine him.”

“Okay. Do you need me to remain here?”

“Your assistance is not required for this part, Archmage.” Ari said, “Check back in an hour, please.”

“Thanks for this, Ari.”

Ari spoke to her students, “Attend me, children; Watch as I coax Linxel’s soul back together by having him notice the fractures and—”

Ophiel departed.

- - - -

Erick’s avatar had never vanished from Clan Green Grass, but people had noticed that his attention had wavered. Now that he was fully here, all he heard was screaming and threats of violence and a hundred and fifty people, desperately wanting to know what the fuck was happening to their clan. Erick had separated the face stealers from everyone else with a lot of [Quick Wall]s, but he also had to separate some of the face stealers from others of their kind, with even more Walls; There was discord in those ranks.

Secrets were coming out and it was not pretty.

Erick silenced everyone and waited a moment for them to understand that he was going to speak, now. He didn’t have to wait long. As eyes turned to him, Erick raised his voice to calmly say, “I have taken Linxel to a soul healer. He was soul fucked by someone in an attempt to prevent a counter-Hunt. He was not face stolen. Soon, we will have better answers. Soon, there will be an even greater counter-Hunt among your people, for I doubt that Linxel would not proceed with a true counter-Hunt now that he is on his way to being of sound mind, and soul. But that will take two hours.

“As of right now, I have already found every single person of Green Grass who I believe to be a face stealer, and I will reveal the reason that I am counter-Hunting in your lands.” As clansmen went wide eyed, Erick stepped toward the Force cage in the center of the camp. His avatar stared at those behind the Walls of Force. “A dragon attempted to assassinate me, and so I am trying to find out why, in case there is some misunderstanding that we can clear up to prevent further aggression. You are all collateral damage. I see you do not believe me— Ah. I see at least one of you does believe me, and isn’t that interesting…” His voice trailed off as he took in everything he was seeing.

Erick looked to Roia, who stood alone in a separate cage of Force, looking utterly resigned to her fate as she stared right back at Erick’s avatar. When Erick had mentioned dragons, and while everyone else had varying reactions from surprise to disbelief to fear, Roia was merely resigned, as though someone had taken apart her life and showed her the problems that she had made for herself.

According to what everyone was screaming, the fake Speaker of Green Grass was high up in her organization. Other face stealers had tried to kill her already, which was why she was alone. An oddity (or perhaps not that odd at all) was that the husband of the body Roia had stolen had taken to standing just outside of Roia’s prison, staring hate and sorrow at the woman, while his soul shifted colors from sunny yellow to something dimmer, getting darker with each passing moment. Roia couldn’t even look at him.

Erick spoke to everyone, “I am after dragons. These dragons are behind many of the plots against Integration, and also for Integration, no doubt. They orchestrate your clans at cross purposes, or for their own gain, or for whatever reason they have; I know not what. All I know is that one of them tried to kill me a few weeks ago, and I am here to find out why. But to get to them, I apparently have to go through every single hidden society there is, of which the face stealers and Hunters are one.

“If anyone here wishes to be a part of that counter-Hunt and to tear these plagues from your homeland, then let me know now. You will become a volunteer force and I will help you find every single face stealer that hides among you.”

He let them speak. It took a few seconds for the gathered people to realize that they could talk, and then the flood came all at once. A good 40% of people wanted to join Erick’s counter-Hunt. The rest wanted to know more. And so, Erick explained how he would counter-Hunt the face stealers among them, and among other grass traveler clans. It took an hour, but it was time well spent.

Soon, one major person stood out from the crowd.

Forage Leader Ooloori publicly declared her intentions to aid Erick in whatever he needed. She hadn’t been in camp when all of this started, but she had come in from the outside and was rapidly brought up to speed. As she was the effective co-leader of this encampment of Clan Green Grass, her declaration began to solidify an organized base of support among everyone else.

By the time that happened, Linxel was awake.

- - - -

Erick’s avatar descended into the courtyard.

Ari stood to the side with her students behind her, while a pair of guards empowered a dome of Force in the center of the courtyard. Their spell was a shield of [Draining Void], or something similar, and it completely cut Linxel off from the rest of the world, while simultaneously Draining him. The warlord was awake and very active inside that spellwork, but most of his actions were just punching at the transparent walls and getting nowhere. He was furious, but he was also fully himself again. And then he saw Erick’s avatar. He roared out inaudible expletives; his cage had sound dampening functions.

Erick asked Ari, “Is he good?”

Ari stood straight, saying, “I have healed the man. He is once again himself. Please take him away.”

“Thank you, Ari.” Erick said, “I owe you another one.”

“This is a boon I doubt I will call upon except in the most dire of needs.” Ari bowed, then rose, saying, “Whoever worked the soul mutilation upon Linxel was a skilled hand. Be careful with any interactions you have with such a force.”

“I will.” Erick turned toward Linxel, who was now furiously staring at him, but at least he had stopped trying to break the spell around him. Erick asked the guards holding him down, “Can he hear me?”

“Yes, sir,” said the man on the left. The one on the right just nodded.

Erick nodded in response, then said to Linxel, “I uncovered 23 face stealers among your people. Forage Leader Ooloori is taking over your clan in your absence. Do you want to go back? Do you want to solve the face stealer problem that you thought did not exist among your people? The dragon problem? If you do, then you will be put back among your people right now. If you do not, then I will sequester you elsewhere for a few hours so that Ooloori can solidify her power in your place. What say you?”

Even though it was inaudible, Erick saw Linxel say, “I accept your help in counter-Hunting all the face stealers and dragons among Clan Green Grass. Get me out of this house of necromancers.”

“Then we have an accord.” Erick asked the guards, “Please release him.”

The guards released their spell and stepped away.

Linxel just stood there, breathing deep, gaining control of his emotions as he glared death at Erick and everyone else within sight. Some student onlookers flinched at his gaze but the Drain had removed all of Linxel’s resources, so it wasn't like he could do anything to anyone. And yet, he still managed to look dangerous.

“We’re going now,” Erick said.

A wrap of light moved them along.

- - - -

Erick landed Linxel at his gathered clan.

As people turned toward their former (?) leader, the warlord began speaking orders. Almost just as fast, Forage Leader Ooloori came forward. The two of them argued for a tense moment over the validity of each other’s rule. Ooloori spoke of how easy it was for Linxel to get taken down, and how he was no longer fit to lead Green Grass. Linxel countered that if Ooloori wanted a debate to settle the matter, that he would gladly give her one after the current problems were over, but until then, it was time to fall into order, and purge the face stealers and draconic forces from their people.

Ooloori capitulated.

Events proceeded rapidly from there, with Linxel speaking to his clan, telling them how it was going to go, and how they were going to use Erick to cleanse their clan of the filth that had invaded them. Ooloori had already laid down a lot of groundwork in getting their clan organized, but Linxel was the one who had won their hearts, long ago. Erick had expected a bit more upsets among Green Grass, for Linxel had been compromised, but Linxel’s people were mostly just very, very relieved that he was okay.

At that point, Erick decided to begin shifting his [Undertow Star] to something less hampering; designating certain people allies, instead of enemies. Linxel was the first person Erick allowed out from under his power, since Linxel had been cleared by Ari’s skill and Erick’s own investigations. After completing his own investigation of Ooloori (by visiting every place that the Forage Leader had been in the nearest two thousand kilometers, and vetting none of them as secret Hunter locations), Ooloori was also white-listed. Erick made sure that Linxel and Ooloori knew what he had done, too.

Events proceeded rapidly from there.

Now that Linxel was here, and proven himself, the heads of other clans began to be brought in. Most people willingly came in to the main caravan, but some people refused the call. Tensions rose. Linxel warned that if they didn’t come in now, that they weren’t allowed to come back at all, and that they would be hunted down like the monsters they were.

All of a sudden, the problem of Green Grass expanded to the full clan; to each separate caravan.

Representatives from clans allied to Green Grass also began to appear on the edge of Green Grass’s encampment. They knew what they were getting into, too, as they willingly walked into the power of Erick’s [Undertow Star], their faces angry and their words angrier. A lot of those words were directed toward Roia. ‘Your Speaker was a face stealer?!’ was a common refrain.

When the newcomers spoke to Linxel, and when they found out, for themselves, the proof that Erick had against the face stealers he had captured, the anger and the harsh words and the surprise and disbelief blossomed ten fold. The other caravans of Green Grass’s clan wanted executions, right then and there. They wanted their own clans purged. They wanted to bring in the Dragon Stalkers. And they also wanted Erick gone, but that one was definitely not going to happen.

Erick’s counter-Hunt was becoming a disaster of person-sized, nation-spanning proportions. Like trying to rid one’s house of ants and finding out that the problem was actually a crack in the wall, which was caused by a sinkhole ready to open up in the basement.

Erick had contented himself to expose the problem, investigate everyone here, and then help out when the clan leaders decided they wanted help, but he was obviously needed in a larger capacity than that. These people obviously had no idea how to properly run a counter-Hunt.

The whole situation reminded Erick of certain events that he had attended back on Earth; of town halls, when people from the public got up behind the podium and yelled at the county commissioner and the board of directors about whatever foolish thing was happening that week. A lot of people had no idea what they were talking about. A lot of people were still very misinformed about how Erick found face stealers, even though he told them how he did it more than a few times, by this point.

Erick almost stepped in again, stepping over Linxel and other Leaders.

Linxel proved himself as Warlord, though. He got right into the shouting match, roaring above the crowd, “We are better than this!” People shut their mouths, and Linxel spoke softer, but no less forceful. “This never would have happened if our methods were not flawed, but how could we have known they were flawed when the face stealers kept them flawed? We did not know. I did not know. Our own Speaker was stolen from us three years ago, and even her husband had no idea. But now we know the problem. Now, we have a guiding light through the shadows.” He gestured to Erick’s avatar, saying, “Archmage Flatt has rescued us from Darkness, and we will follow the lead he had already walked many times before. There will be no argument on this.”

And, surprisingly, there was no more argument.

Things proceeded rapidly from there, and a lot calmer.

By now, Erick had vetted or condemned everyone in the main clan. 167 people were cleared. 29 were condemned. Now that something resembling coherence had come out of Green Grass, Erick began releasing the cleared people out from under the power of [Undertow Star]. Mana and Health slowly returned. The [Spatial Denial] that blanketed the land constricted down to only those condemned by the truth of nature. More and more people blipped into the outskirts of the main encampment of Green Grass; more and more visitors from other clans.

It was a mess, but into this mess, Erick held yet another round of explanations about how his searching worked, and how to spot a face stealer. There was a small argument about how it was going to go after Erick found the impostors, but Linxel, and Ooloori before him, had already sent out for Sin Seekers from Oolooraptoor.

No one had been executed, yet, because none of the Sin Seekers had arrived yet, and no one wanted to carry out justice until they were sure of what they were seeing. Some people still didn’t want to believe what they were seeing, though by now, the proof of it all was hard to ignore.

The searching among the other caravans of Green Grass wasn’t going very well, with almost no one being found out as a face stealer, but to everyone there, that only meant that they were hiding much better than they hid at the main caravan. Those places were also all under [Undertow Star]s, though, so no one was going anywhere. It was still a mess.

It was at this point that Roia, the false Speaker of Green Grass, raised her voice, “I wish to turn on my Hunter organization in return for a Blessing instead of execution.”

The other face stealers started screaming hate. Some started yelling about how they would turn on their organization, too, and for the same deal as Roia. One man sat down and started crying.

Erick almost felt bad for the crying guy, but that man had killed the previous owner of that body in order to take that body for himself, so Erick locked down that part of himself and ignored it, for now. He was getting much better at that.

Erick’s avatar stepped to the space outside of Roia’s cage and blanketed a [Physical Domain] across the other face stealers, quieting them while allowing her to speak. Seconds of silence passed uninterrupted, while Roia looked on, accepting her fate, and the leaders of Green Grass moved to get nearer, to hear what was happening. Linxel was the only one who approached all the way to stand beside Erick, to look down at Roia, his face and body full of hidden emotions. Outwardly, he was disappointed, but inward, Erick could tell the man was torn apart.

Erick began with, “Name of organization, rough estimate of personnel, overview of hierarchy. In addition, I need an example of how this works for you, for as far as I know all you people have are dark gatherings in holes in the ground. Yet what you have here in Green Grass is much, much more than that. How? Why?”

Roia breathed, then said, “We are a Hunter organization. I am the quartermaster for this cell, of my sect of Hunters. We don’t have any personnel in the other caravans of Green Grass; we’re all here in the main caravan, and you found almost all of us. We Hunt high-level clansmen all across Nelboor. We are the Knives of the Night.”

The name meant nothing to Erick, but it meant a lot to everyone else. Mostly, people were suddenly intrigued. Others had more fearful reactions, like many of the elders of Green Grass, along with the teachers and more than a few warriors. Interestingly, some of the face stealers were suddenly scared, too, while others were surprised that Roia was actually giving them up. For a few of the killers, that surprise transformed into sudden anger.

Linxel said, “You claim to be among the Sects of Nelboor.”

- - - -

Back in his yurt, where nothing had happened yet, Erick asked Nirzir, “What is a sect? These people are attaching some importance to that word and it hasn’t come up yet.”

Nirzir had relaxed a bit, since nothing was happening, but at Erick’s words she shot to attention. Then she paused, uttered, “Uh,” then she realized the deep implications of Erick’s words, and said, “The sects are the Dark counterpart of the Clans. Mostly they’re criminal organizations but a few of them are infamous for their deeds. Uh. We don’t have them in the Highlands.” She looked worried. “I thought we didn’t have them here.”

Erick said, “This woman here claims to be among the Knives of the Night.”

Nirzir instantly said, “Hunters. All of them. And worse, I think. Ties to Melemizargo. They move around a lot. I didn’t know they were here. I need to inform my family of this.”

“Do what you need to do.” Erick said, “From what I’m seeing, I assume that these Knives of the Night are next on the chopping block.”

Nirzir nodded, then sent out tendrils of thought into the manasphere.

- - - -

Roia said, “I am a part of a sect; yes.”

Erick said, “We already know she is a very good liar, but—” He pointed at a few people among the rest of the captured killers. “Those people know what she is saying is true. The truth of Roia’s words are evident in all of their faces. While they could all be working at some grand, organized scheme, I doubt this.”

Linxel commanded, “Continue, Knife.”

Roia continued, “We work in cells, with our cell here being a face stealer branch of our sect. We have no other contact with the rest of the organization except for dead drops, and to help fellow knives hide when they need to hide. We only have forty three people in our group, and I will help you catch the rest under certain conditions, but the Knives of the Night number in the thousands, scattered all across Nelboor. Our main training grounds are located in the Five Mountains region of central Nelboor, though that changes every graduation, too.

“Our goals have always been to become the strongest, using any methods available to us. Many of us are Cultists of Melemizargo.” Roia looked to Erick. “If Melemizargo demands our deaths then he will get his wish and I will go into the hands of my God with eyes wide open, hoping for a new life in another way. But with you here, I think we have instead been granted a chance at redemption, and I mean to take that chance.”

People shouted for her death, and Erick expanded the scope of his [Physical Domain] in response, silencing all exterior voices.

Erick asked Roia, “But what about the dragons behind this?”

Roia steeled herself, and said, “After your meeting with Linxel, the warlord spoke with others about implementing your counter-Hunting assistance across the whole of Green Grass and several allied clans. I informed my sect of this event, and they came down with orders that I carried out, alongside the assistance of outside help with which to ensure that this counter-Hunt did not happen. I don’t know any of the particulars, only that I needed to get Linxel to a meeting spot and that he had to be subdued in order for the Soul Mage to work.

“And so, with a good twenty of my people, we subdued Linxel and then the Soul Mage appeared in the sky. He had the body of a human man, but his aura was one of green scales and claws and he was covered in shadows. I have no idea what he looks like, but if anyone was the dragon, then it was that man.

“The Soul Mage took the unconscious body of Linxel. My superiors informed me that Linxel was coming back, and we were to treat him as though nothing had happened. And then Linxel came back, he knew nothing of what had happened, except that he didn’t want Erick anywhere near Green Grass.” With a bit of hidden anger in her voice, Roia said, “The dragon failed to mutilate Linxel correctly, and thus we are here.”

As her words poured out Erick studied the woman, looking for falsehoods; he found none. At the same time, he studied everyone else. The people in the onlooking crowd were disgusted and terrified in equal measure. The face stealers in the cage had gone from angry, to resigned. Oh, sure, some of them still had hopes of escaping, or being rescued.

They weren’t going to escape, though.

If rescuers came, Erick would murder them rather instantly—

Ah. Strange thought, that. He went right to murder, eh? It was that kinda day, he supposed. And so, yes, he would certainly End whoever came to rescue these people.

Which was probably why no one showed up. Or, perhaps, no one showed up because no one ever showed up. With all the thousands of Hunters and killers Erick had recently helped to end, very rarely did those people ever receive rescues of their own, and even if they did, then Erick’s target search just widened that much more.

Roia said, “I wish for your Blessing, archmage, and to be allowed to go free so that I may atone for my sins.”

Erick said, “The names of the other face stealers in your cell. I will handle captures, since every caravan of Green Grass is already under my control.”

Roia’s shoulders slacked, just a fraction, but she maintained her composure.

And then she began listing names of people in the other caravans of Green Grass. The gathered clansmen recoiled after every utterance. The people Roia named had been their family, and yet, they were not. But for a few people from other caravans… Erick watched as some people heard Roia speak a name, and then those people just accepted it, as if they had known all along.

When she was done with her naming and Erick began working with others to find those people, Linxel moved closer to the Wall separating him from the face stealer.

Linxel asked Roia, “How long has this been going on?”

“Four years.”

“Why did you do this to us? How did you manage to do this?”

Roia stoically said, “You might find that out if I am Blessed and released, but not before.”

“Before I will do that,” Erick spoke above the crowd, asking Linxel, “Where are those Sin Seekers?”

Linxel glanced toward the southern sky. “I don’t know.”

The Sin Seekers from Ooloraptoor showed up not three minutes later on the southern flank of the encampment. Ten men and women, each wore an assortment of clothes, from white robes, to brown leathers, to green-dyed tunics and loose pants, but every single one also wore short capes of woven grass.

For once, the delay in promptness wasn’t a sign of things turning even more catastrophic. Ooloraptoor was simply in a massive political and emotional upset because all of the clans had heard of the extensive nature of the face stealer problem in Green Grass. The leaders and speakers and clansmen, all of the grass traveler nation, were beginning to enact emergency face stealer counter-Hunts. The Sin Seekers that Ooloraptoor sent here, to Green Grass, had already gone through the whole political hierarchy of the lakeside city; thus, the reason for the delay.

After their introduction, the Sin Seekers got to work.

Erick assisted them with their work, moving around the people he had found so that those people could better be judged. While he was doing that, he also brought in all the people who Roia had named.

Soon enough, the Sin Seekers got to Roia.

The confessed face stealer glowed a bright red under the watchful eyes of three different Sin Seekers, confirming her guilt as seen through the eyes of three different casters. Some of the onlookers had no idea what was actually happening, though, and that absence of knowledge was looking to fill up with anger, instead. So one of the main Sin Seekers, a woman of pink skin and pink horns, named Vania, took it upon herself to explain.

Vania said, “To seek the sins of a target, one must pull the actions of the target out of the river of time and through oneself, acting as a lens through which to judge. There is no Elemental Innocence. There is no particle of Justice that one can search for its absence, or its presence. There is only hard work, and the vetting of targets by multiple Sin Seekers, for no one person should —on their own— ever condemn another to death based on [Witness], or clues, or anything else. No one should believe a single Sin Seeker on their singular word, either.” She gazed at the gathered crowds, saying, “For just being judged by a Sin Seeker is not enough, for we are the lens through which people are judged, and lenses can sometimes see things that are not there. So to keep ourselves on the right path of clarity and purpose, we venture to clans of all kinds, learning from the best of all the grass traveling Speakers and Leaders. We finish our learning in Ooloraptoor, under the guidance of Elders which come from the clans of all of us. It is there that we learn specific skills that will uncover face stealers and hunters, but which will return a null result for people who have killed others in war, or in other lawful means.” Vania said, “If you have more questions afterward then I might be able to answer them, but we are very busy right now. I need to work.” And then she returned to work.

It took the collected Sin Seekers twenty minutes to get through everyone, with four separate Seekers confirming the specific guilt of every single face stealer Erick had found. When that was done, Linxel stepped in and declared that it was over.

Erick had a good idea of what would come next. He had already seen this part play out in a few different warlord clans, back when he helped Songli counter-Hunt among these lands. When Clan Pale Cow enacted justice against their two face stealers, they gave the option of enacting justice to the bereaved. In both cases, the bereaved quickly carried out the sentence and then collapsed into weeping piles. Erick steeled himself and prepared for the same thing to happen here. He was prepared to let Roia die to the justice of the clan she had dishonored for the last three years, and Roia realized this, though she kept her mouth shut and did not protest what she saw happening.

Linxel gestured to the old man who had been living with Roia, thinking that Roia was his wife for the last three years. The old man came forward to stand in front of Linxel. The larger man put his hand atop the old man’s shoulder, and together, they turned to the clan.

Linxel spoke, “Iruzo has spoken to me and we have decided to honor Roia’s request for the Archmage’s Blessing. If it is good enough for Koyabez, and if it will torment these people with true understanding of what they have done to us, then it is good enough for me. I can already see that some of you wish for the same to happen to those who have stolen your loved ones from you. We will talk about all of that, as a clan. To that end, there will be no sentences carried out tonight except one.” Linxel turned away from the stunned crowd to see Erick’s stunned avatar. “Archmage. Please Bless face stealer Roia. Show her the error of her ways, and cast her away from us.”

Erick was stunned. He had not expected that. He did not expect anyone to believe in redemption except for him, and especially not the warlord of a grass traveling clan. But sometimes people surprise you like that.

Roia stood stunned, too, as though she never expected her gambit to work, and now that it was, she had no idea what to do with herself.

Before any backlash came from the crowd, Erick moved to comply. His Crystal Star passed through the light and touched Roia, faster than anyone could truly see. By the time the star was back upon his own chest, back in his yurt, Roia was already breaking down into quiet tears, saying that she was sorry between wracking sobs.

Iruzo looked on, impassive, and yet his face was wet with tears, too.

In another flick of light, Erick removed Roia from the area, passing her far to the east, into a suddenly constructed [Obscuring Redoubt] with her as the only allowed occupant. He set her down upon the bottom floor.

Erick took stock of what he had done, so far.

He had found most every person Roia had named, though some of them had escaped before the [Undertow Star] could lock them down. All of those he had found were inside the central area of the main caravan of Green Grass. They had had their Sin Seeker ‘trial’, with none of them passing that trial. Judgment would come later.

And Erick was emotionally torn apart. Everything seemed a bit disconnected from everything else. Today had been rough. Hopefully tomorrow would be— Ah. Tomorrow would be rough, too. Maybe the day after would be better? … Probably not if there was a dragon problem.

Erick spoke hastily to Linxel, saying, “I am done, for now. I will speak to you again when you are able, or tomorrow morning when I show up to Bless whoever needs Blessing, if you decide to do that. I will leave the Drain on in the sky, since it’s targeted to the face stealers and it will last more than long enough for your needs. I took down the [Force Wall]s and put up some Solid Wards that will also last indefinitely, but I don’t think those people are going anywhere.” Erick had eyes on the people in the crowds, and those people had their eyes on the face stealers. The only thing stopping them from enacting the usual justice was Erick’s spellwork. Erick said, “That said: do you need anything else right now?”

Linxel rapidly said, “I need to apologize to you. You were more right than I had considered possible.” The warlord stood strong and tall, his spiral horns and his dark blue skin highlighted in the light the [Undertow Star] above. “Come around some time and we will have a feast in your honor, Archmage.”

Erick felt a twinge of something nice inside his chest. Linxel had been through more than most people in the last half a day, and yet he did not look exhausted. Erick, himself, was thoroughly exhausted, though.

Erick said “I will see you tomorrow, and we can speak of more at that time. Do you want all the monsters in a hundred kilometer radius of your clan killed, before I go?”

Linxel almost said something, but then Erick’s words registered, and he startled. He recovered, saying, “Yes. I would accept this gift.”

“Then it will be done. Till tomorrow.”

“Till tomorrow.”

Ophiel left.

Linxel went to his people.

- - - -

Erick killed some more monsters. More abyss drinkers. More rats, and lizards, and even some odd chimera toad/boars that croaked out ineffective Thunder-based spells. All the while, Erick kept half of his attention to his direct surroundings, now that he wasn’t stretched in seven directions at once.

The yurt trundled on alongside Clan Pale Cow without interruption. Eventually, the caravan came to the next riverside. Erick killed some lesser rivergrieves in the water before they attacked the clansmen opening up the sluice, to let water into the farmland. Those cowherds likely would have been fine, but it was a large rivergrieve, and saving someone from needing to regrow their legs was still saving someone a lot of pain.

There was another feast that night with another whole cow roasted and shared among the entire clan, alongside the important news of the day: Archmage Flatt had uncovered face stealers and a dark sect hiding among Clan Green Grass, one of the staunchest True Traveler clans among the grass travelers. Pale Cow had debated Green Grass many times in the past, but they always lost. They were slated to debate them in several days, too, but now that this had happened, Green Grass might not make it to those debates. There was some marked schadenfreude among a few younger individuals, but other people noticed and began to berate those who were foolish enough to take joy in the pain of rivals.

Everyone wanted to know what had happened directly from Erick, but he told people, “I’m still figuring out what happened, myself. It all happened rather fast. I expect a great deal more face stealer purges in the coming days, but Ooloraptoor will get back to me on that.”

The food was delicious.

He brought some of it to Roia.

- - - -

In a darkened hole in the ground, tears flowed from an old woman who was not an old woman at all.

Erick placed the plate of hot food on the stone a few meters away from the face stealer, and cast more lights into the room. And then he waited.

It took a minute, but Roia eventually controlled her sobbing to something smaller. She breathed. She collected herself. With a supreme will, she sat up. Tears flowed, but she could look at Erick’s avatar and she could speak.

“Hello, archmage.” She asked, “What more can I do for you?”

Her voice had cracked and she almost couldn’t speak halfway through, but Erick ignored the brokenness of her words; Roia was trying.

“First, I would ask why you chose this route. You never gave a satisfactory answer.”

Roia collected herself, then almost spoke, but she stopped herself. Her gaze dropped to the stone floor and stayed there. After a minute of silence, she said, “I’m not sure where to begin.”

“At the beginning.”

Roia lifted her eyes, and said, “I lived in a small town northeast of Eralis. Thirty years ago, I killed a baker; He was my boss and it was an accident. A fleeting moment of rage because he pawned his gambling debts off onto me and when the enforcers for the gambling dens came… I gained fifty levels when I killed that man. When the enforcers came they called me a Hunter, and so I was a Hunter. I ran; exiled myself… I found a sect— Well. The Knives of the Night found me. The gods never answered my prayers, but Melemizargo did. Sometimes, anyway. More than Rozeta ever did. It went down from there.” She breathed, then said, “I never had justice. My hope in taking on this Blessing is that… Is that I can go a different way than exile or execution. I don’t know if it will work, but if Melemizargo and the gods accept this much from Shades, then maybe someone like me can get the same redemption.”

Her words seemed to hold in the air for a long while after they left her lips, there in that darkened hole in the ground. Erick had hoped that his Blessing could one day be another facet of justice, too, but to hear it so plainly stated by a person who was subjected to that justice…

It seemed dishonest of her, somehow. Like she was trying to cheat the system.

He wasn’t sure how he felt about that, because a large part of him wanted to punish.

But.

No.

Erick told her, “I would like to know more about the sects of Nelboor, or at least how to best dismantle your entire organization.”

“… I don’t think I can. I don’t think I can help you kill them. I just—” She broke down again, covering her face with her hands. “I can’t.”

Erick frowned, and yet…

He thought. Roia wept.

If Roia was unable to continue to assist against her kind, then what good was she?

Erick decided, “I understand.”

And he did, truly understand. Perhaps this was as much as he should ask of Roia, and even if he could push her past this limit… Did he want to? The woman had his Blessing of Empathy, and everything she did to hurt someone would hurt her, too, and the more she tested her Blessing, the more she could push through it. Maybe she could even negate it, in the future, if she had to. And Erick didn’t want that, at all.

For now, Roia was Blessed, and she was on a trajectory to be a different person.

And yet…

Erick had believed that Goldie and Queen were on good trajectories, too, and their scheming got over 4 million people killed.

Erick had another dark thought about Roia’s fate; about what was needed, and how that differed from what Erick wanted. He wanted to let Roia go, to allow her to grow as a person. What was needed, though, was for actual change in the world, and actual change required bad and failed actors to vanish from the stage.

People like Roia deserved—

No.

Erick came back from the edge, yet again. He was in a place of power, here. He had the options. And he had hope for a better world. Erick’s own ‘Blessing of Empathy’ kicked in, he supposed.

He saw that Roia was in an old woman’s body and it couldn’t be comfortable to lay on the ground like that, so Erick conjured a bed and some blankets off to the side, and then he conjured some more temporary beds in case Roia broke the first ones. He told her what he was doing as he cast a [Greater Treat Wound]s upon her. She barely stopped crying for a moment, and then the tears came out even more as she saw that she was being taken care of, even though she knew she did not deserve this kindness.

Regrets and words poured out of Roia as she spoke of Iruzo; the husband of the original owner of her body. She spoke of how she had actually found love, but it was built upon a lie. She spoke of how she wanted to come clean so many times before, but how she just couldn’t, for Iruzo was a good man, and Roia did not deserve him. If Roia told him who she was, Iruzo would hate her, and he would have been right to hate.

Erick said, “You’re right. You didn’t deserve him. But you can still redeem yourself.”

“How?” Roia wailed.

“Dismantle all the Hunter and face stealer societies the world over.”

Roia realized the enormity of Erick’s words; it was enough to temporarily stop her tears. “But… That’s… A problem that cannot be fixed.”

“Then take heart in knowing that you’re not alone in this burden.” Erick said, “I’m right there with you.”

That seemed to sober Roia up. She stared at Erick’s avatar for a long moment. No words came from her.

Erick renewed the duration of the [Obscuring Redoubt] all around her, then slid her plate of food toward her, saying, “I have taken you to the foothills of the South East Tribulations; almost 1800 kilometers east of where you were. This place is an invisible hideout, but that magic will fade in 12 hours. The structure itself will remain behind, but others might find you here. There are no monsters in the area, though, because I cleared them out, but such scouring never lasts long. If you need water there is a tiny tributary to the north. Good luck with your life, Roia. Make something nice of it, or at least help others with the time you have left.”

Erick left.

Erick slept a few hours, but then could not sleep anymore. He busied himself with monster extermination across the whole of grass traveler lands. Kill Notifications rained past his eyes.

Eventually, he checked on Roia.

Roia had eaten half of her food and fallen asleep in the bed he had conjured. She looked to be having nightmares, with her fingers twitching and her eyes darting behind closed lids.

Erick hoped he had made the right decision.

- - - -

As night came on, the [Undertow Star] in the sky over Green Grass seemed to blend into the other celestial objects adorning the heavens. In the dense air that formed a fence around the face stealers, an Ophiel perched inside his own light, overseeing the temporary prisoners. Outside of that space, the clansmen of Green Grass argued with each other about what they wanted to do with the prisoners. There had never been an option for face stealers aside from execution; Exile was not a choice when it came to people like them.

Erick overheard many of those arguments, but he did not participate, except to ensure that no one killed the temporary prisoners. The mother who had asked for ‘her boy’ to be released had tried to kill that face stealer with a [Fireball] spell, but her magic just splashed against dense air, and she broke down sobbing. The face stealers watched. Some commented on the quality of the show; ‘too much melodrama!’ and ‘Where’s the action!’ Some of the face stealers even started to heckle the people of Clan Green Grass.

Erick silenced the lot of them.

Other than the various internal disputes of Green Grass, no outsiders attacked in the middle of the night, or anything like that. No one attacked Pale Cow, or Erick and his people, either. The night passed without successful physical violence, but there was certainly a lot of emotional violence.

- - - -

As the day dawned with rain on the horizon, Erick directed his avatar to meet with Linxel in the warlord’s yurt. It was a spartan place with a formal meeting zone in the front and a thin wall that separated that room from the back of the yurt. In the back was Linxel’s bedroom, with a large bed and a lot of painting supplies, and paintings. He looked to live alone, though.

In the front room was Linxel himself, along with the former Speaker’s husband Iruzo (Who was now the interim Speaker, until elections could be held), Forage Leader Ooloori, and a few other Forage Leaders from other branch caravans of Green Grass. A few Speakers from the other caravans were there, too. It was a packed space, but there was room for all of them. Some small pleasantries were exchanged, along with introductions, but Erick didn’t really need them and no one cared too much about Hospitality Rites at the moment; Erick wasn’t really there, after all.

Linxel got down to it, “We’ve decided on the fate of our face stealers. They are to be put to the sword.”

Erick expected this. “Very well. Though I am disappointed by your choice, I am glad that I was able to expose this problem among your people. That is about as far as I am willing to impose upon your sovereignty.”

Linxel wasn’t the only one surprised by Erick’s words.

Forage Leader Ooloori asked, “You don’t want to do your blessing thing?”

“Of course I do. Redemption is possible for even the worst of people, but it is a new magic, so it is likely best to go slow, for now. Therefore, I accept your sovereignty.” Erick asked, “But why don’t you want me to do my blessing-thing?”

Ooloori said, “It’s… It’s soul magic.”

“A minor lie.” Erick said, “I would appreciate the truth.”

Linxel spoke, “When we came to you, we only wanted you to step away from the debates in Ooloraptoor. Events rampaged out of that path rather quickly, and while we appreciate what you have done for us in the aftermath, we do not wish to be involved with these sorts of events. Before you, exile was never an option with face stealers, because they could always come back to [Strike] when we least expect it. Your magic offers a new choice, but it is, as you say, a new magic. Untested. We believe that if you were to Bless these people then they would become a continuing source of problems, as evident with with the Shades that incited the Chelation War.”

Erick had sudden, very important arguments against Linxel’s stance, but it was not his place.

He would say a few things about that last part, though.

“I believe in the chance for redemption, but you do not. This is fine. But to blame the Chelation War on the Shades is to fail to see how Terror Peaks had been preparing for war since well before Last Shadow’s Feast, before I Blessed a few Shades into compliance with the rest of civilization.”

Linxel was not the only one to not know what Erick was talking about.

Erick explained, “Patriarch Xangu and Scion Raidu Terror Peaks have been culling the pacifist factions among their own people for the last decade, and more. They were always going to go to war and—” Erick stopped himself. “I’m not defending what Shade Goldie and Queen did, but I am saying that the ground was primed for war. And then some unknown actors got involved and made the whole thing much, much worse than it was always going to be. I’m still trying to find those unknown actors, because I don’t believe them to be the Shades.” Erick paused, then decided to move on, for he saw he wasn’t convincing anyone, and he wasn’t even convincing himself. He asked Iruzo, “What say you about your clan’s decision to forgo Blessing, knowing that your wife’s face is still out there?”

As Linxel had spoken his declaration against Blessing all of the face stealers, Iruzo, the former Speaker’s husband, was the only one who did not agree with Linxel’s denial of Erick’s Blessing. This much was evident on the man’s face, but Iruzo had not had the opportunity to speak. So Erick had demanded the man speak.

People turned toward Iruzo.

Iruzo spat, “I hope she suffers.”

Ah. Well. Iruzo was hoping for viciousness.

“Then you will be glad to know that she spent all last night sobbing.”

Iruzo stood a bit taller. He said nothing, but he was happy to hear that.

Well. Sure. That was fine?

“Such is Iruzo’s right, for being tricked by that face stealer for so long.” Linxel said, “But the rest of us just want the problem to go away and never return. That is what we want, as the wronged party. That is what we will have.”

“Fair enough.” Erick asked, “Will you carry out the sentences immediately?”

Linxel said, “We shall.”

“Then know that I am putting them to sleep with a chemical spell so that the executions are painless and without spectacle, but that spell will take a minute to work.” Erick said, “I will remove the Drain and their protective spells when you get there.”

Cries of worry began to fill the air outside Linxel’s yurt, as face stealers began to collapse to the ground. The clansmen around Erick’s avatar heard it, too, and their faces turned different as they did. Some were relieved. Some were disappointed. Linxel was outwardly passionless, but inwardly relieved. Good; rulers should never take joy in the pain of carrying out their duty. Erick was glad, again, that he didn’t kill the man in his earlier rage.

… Erick checked himself: was his rage actually gone? No. It was still there, a little. He was still rather angry at a lot of things, for there was a lot to be angry about. Well. Whatever.

Linxel stood, saying, “We will walk slowly.”

His people stood with him.

Together, they moved to enact the will of their clan.

Erick watched it happen, detached from the whole situation by a thousand kilometers and scarred-over emotions. At least Green Grass did justice cleaner than Pale Cow. Instead of the bereaved acting against the condemned, Linxel gave a minor speech to the collected onlookers, then he walked among the face stealers, ending the sleeping threats with casual swipes of a very large sword.

The bodies were burned with honors, for the face stealers were gone.

Erick came back to himself, hoping he would have less heavy days than that. He felt detached from everything, and that hurt, too. Ah. Well. Everyone has bad days, don’t they? No big deal. Just get up, and keep going. The only people who had died in this recent altercation were face stealers, and that was okay, wasn’t it?

- - - -

Roia wasn’t in the [Obscuring Redoubt] when Erick went to check on her. There was a note, though, written on the wall in charcoal.

Thank you for this opportunity, Archmage Flatt. I will attempt to do right by the chance you have given me. Though I expect to fail, I will still try. I hope to bring you good news, and soon. — Roia

It was a simple letter, and a simple promise. Erick wondered what would become of it.

- - - -

The sky was cloudy with the promise of rain, and the ground was ready for it. The cows of Pale Cow mooed as they kicked up dirt and dust, turning the wind into a minor sandstorm. As the caravan moved north, dust flowed over yurt and driver and everything, covering all in a fine layer of brown. The cooking yurt was shut down and closed up for the day; tonight would likely be stew, done under cover and not nearly as plentiful as it usually was. No one ran between yurts to visit others. A few drivers had covert little [Weather Ward]s active over themselves, though, and that was good enough to keep most of the dirt off of them.

Erick’s yurt was perfectly clean, though his vehicle was traveling well east of the dust storm that was clan Pale Cow. He was almost tempted to call up a light rain for them, but they seemed to be okay? Sure; they were fine.

Besides: he suddenly had another concern occupying his mind.

A bobbing half-orb of yellow light hovered atop the plains about a kilometer in front of his path. It hadn’t been there ten seconds ago, and if Erick let his yurt continue on this path, he would run rather close to the conjuring. He had an Ophiel inspect the yellow thing before the cart reached it.

It was a simple [Force Platform] shaped into a shallow bowl. Erick checked the manasphere with a quick [Witness] and found that a [Conjure Force Elemental] had briefly come through the area, allowing the person on the other side to cast the [Force Platform] through the summon, just so that the caster could then drop off its cargo into the glowing, yellow bowl. The cargo was a filled out application; one of Erick’s.

The sender was the Knives of the Night. The request was for Blessings upon them all, so that they could meet the better fate of those who crossed Erick; they had no illusions about what would happen if they didn’t step up and prevent their coming apocalypse, in the only way possible. There was a bloody fingerprint in the appointed box, purportedly from ‘Master Daizing’, along with a time of ‘today’ and a place that wasn’t too far away (by Ophiel, anyway).

“It’s a trap,” Jane said.

“One I fully intend to obliterate, if necessary,” Erick said.

“… I suppose that’s one way to do it.” Jane asked, “We’re back on high alert then?”

“Yes.” Erick said, “I’m already looking at the spot from far away, and they’re there, right now. I’m also running a [Cascade Imaging] one mountain over from them. I’ll know in a minute if Xangu or the spears or anything like that is there, before I go.”

Jane smiled brightly. “Smart.”

“Sometimes!” Erick joked.

“Do you do that all the time? Or did you just start doing that?”

“The second.” Erick said, “It might not be a viable solution every time, but I’m getting into good habits.”

“What about a preemptive [Undertow Star]?”

“… They are enemies, but they’re choosing to meet, instead of fight. I have to meet them under neutral flags, first, Jane. That’s just how it is done. Honorably.”

Jane frowned a little. “These people are not the honorable sorts.”

“They are not, but I have to be.”

“… I guess you do.”

- - - -

While four other Ophiels watched on from high above, a single Ophiel descended from the sky, aiming for a very conspicuous encampment on the side of a rocky mountain. Someone had Shaped four buildings from the mountain’s surface, making sure that their constructions would be seen for kilometers in every direction. This was the opposite of how people usually Shaped living spaces in the Tribulations; usually, people made their holes-in-the-ground hard to spot for any number of reasons, from monsters, to other people. There didn’t seem to be many monsters or other people around these parts, though; Erick had checked.

Of the four buildings, and of the eight people stationed here, there were only enough belongings to fit into eight backpacks; sleeping rolls, small cooking pots, and the like. This was a temporary location, for sure.

Erick deployed his avatar onto the land outside of the buildings.

A scout spotted Erick and Ophiel almost immediately.

Within seconds, Master Daizing and his people flowed out of their buildings, almost in formation. The ‘master’ was a human man of pale skin, but otherwise unremarkable, save for his completely black clothing. All of the other people around him, none of which looked like students, all of which looked like equals, also wore black clothes. One of the people following behind Master Daizing was Roia, who was now also dressed in black.

Erick withheld judgment about that, for now.

Daizing and his people stopped five meters away from Erick’s avatar, and then Daizing took another step forward, trying to contain the smile upon his lips, saying, “Greetings, Archmage Flatt!”

Erick frowned. He asked, “So what’s all this?”

Daizing said, “We wish for your Blessing so that we may follow our God along his new path through this world.”

“… Okay?”

Daizing elaborated, “We will bring you all of our organization in exchange for your providence, ending us as a sect of Nelboor, though we only expect three out of every four people will follow us into this new world order. There will have to be some force involved, and you might have to do that, since our own power will be nullified after we take your Blessing. After our own sect is no more, we can help you conquer every sect of Nelboor. It should not be hard for one of your power.”

The man had started off with high promises, then collapsed those promises to something more realistic, and then ended with an attempt at flattery. This set off red flags. Except... all of Daizing’s words were truth, written deep in the hearts and minds of the people who followed Daizing out here. Roia even matched the man’s fervor with her own. They all wanted salvation. They needed it. They had to follow Melemizargo, for he was their faith, and they believed that Erick was the gatekeeper to the future.

There was only one real option to this, wasn’t there?

Yes; the sects should be ended. And so…

Erick said, “Okay. I will agree to this if you tell me anything and everything that you know about the dragon that you worked with when you came for Clan Green Grass.”

Daizing was not the only one elated to hear those words, but he was the one to speak, “Of course! We have expected this much. The dragon’s name is Ordoonarati. He is likely a level 95 dragon of Shadow and Decay, and he has been a power behind the True Traveler clans for centuries. Mostly, he is very reclusive. We have one of his scales here which enables contact between us.” The man pulled a dark green scale out from his robes. It was the size of his splayed-out hand, and minimally enchanted. “It is enchanted, as you can see, but I can break this enchantment if you wish. I know it is a bad look for us to try and hand our savior the magical item of a Soul Mage, as this certainly looks like a trap…” Daizing rapidly said, “But we truly do not wish to go against the one that our Dark God has Chosen to raise to such lofty heights; it would be anathema to our entire way of life. I can only apologize for the hit carried out on Green Grass by Knives of the Night. We did not know what we were doing, for we truly did not know we were intruding on your territory until Roia came to us last night. She is already being punished by you, for failing to disclose the truth of the situation when she first spoke to us.” He smiled wide, saying, “But with her Blessing, and by the depth of what the Blessing has done to her, we know what Melemizargo demands of us in this new world.” He held the scale forward in both of his hands, as he bent over, bowing a full 90 degrees. “He demands our compliance.”

His people followed suit, bowing to Erick, then going the full measure and kowtowing upon the ground.

Erick had a rapid series of thoughts that boiled down to two main paths. He could hope for the best of an uncertain future, or, he could be paranoid and clip short many, many different lives. If he chose to hope, then he could end a Dark Sect of Nelboor without violence. If he chose violence, then… He wasn’t sure what more violence would bring. All he knew was that violence brought violence, and Erick wished for a lot less of that.

He also had a fair bit of Thoughts about the revelation that he was some sort of ‘Chosen’ —Erick certainly heard the capitalization in that word— but he would save that oddity for when he wasn’t in crisis-solving mode.

With a bit of [Telekinesis] so as to not expose his sunform to unknown magics, even if this wasn’t a trick, Erick took the scale.

“Stand up. Face me.”

The Hunters and face stealers did so, looking unsure, but complying anyway.

“How do I activate this scale to talk to the dragon on the other side?”

Daizing said, “Hold it in your hands and call the dragon’s name; he will answer if he desires.”

Fair enough.

Erick was certainly not going to do that, though. Especially since Ordoonarati was, at the very least, a Soul Mage.

Erick decided, “In order to Bless your organization out of existence I will be changing this land here into something more suitable for that task. Watch the sky, and know that this place will be Peaceful, by force, as long as people live in this land. This is where the Blessing will happen.”

Faces turned upward as the clouds in the sky deepened, then parted, revealing a shadow in the heavens.

And then came a Star; shining, breaking those central shadows into fractured light.

Tendrils of gloom spread out from that point in the sky, touching lightly upon everyone, before fading into the background like a saturation applied to the world. Mana and Health began to Drain from all present. The only person in this place who was an ‘Ally’ was Erick and Ophiel; all others were subject to the Star. Mostly.

All monsters were designated ‘Enemy’, too; that should make them weak enough so that no-Health no-Mana people could kill them. But in addition to that kindness, there was a hole in the working, just so that some people could regain their Mana and Health, so that they could fight back against the monsters.

Erick said, “If you walk a kilometer outside of the sphere of influence, or if you go to those four houses you made, then your Resources will begin to return and the magics you cast won’t be disintegrated so easily. It is here, though, that I will Bless those who wish to be Blessed. Right here; where I am standing.” With a Shaping, Erick transformed the space under his avatar’s feet into a plain dais about two meters across. On a whim that felt right, he carved the holy symbol of Koyabez into the stone; a four pointed star. He declared, “When your Resources are gone and when you are alone under the Star, I might see that you are ready to change. Spread the word.”

Erick wasn’t about to go counter-Hunting after every sect of Nelboor anytime soon; let people come to him, if they wanted.

“Your will be done!” Daizing declared. “I would go first; I am empty, and ready for change.” He froze, then added, “If it pleases the Chosen.”

Erick’s avatar stepped away from his dais.

Daizing stepped forward, onto the spot.

Erick whipped his Crystal Star through the light, touching the man the very second his foot touched the stone. The man continued to take his step, but his eyes were already full of realized pain. He breathed out, almost in relief. Then he collapsed, silently weeping.

And then he shot to his feet, tears still streaming, as he said, “Ah! I see the Light in the Dark. I see the Shadow. I know the old friend of the Silver Star. Yes. This is the way. There could be no other. Of course. Melemizargo has always been about growth. This is merely a different kind of growth. Old Growth. Old purpose. A Path to the Stars, laid down by a Fire of the Age, like how it had been before, and how it has never been allowed to be since the Sundering.” He whispered, “I see.”

Daizing was truly a true believer, it seemed. He reminded Erick a bit of Priestess, actually.

The next petitioner had a lot more weeping, and a lot less fanaticism. Petitioners number three through seven went about the same; no surprises there.

When it was over, tears continued to roll down Daizing’s face, and yet he did not seem bothered by them. He said, “It will take some time to get our people to understand what must become of the Cult. But they will know. We will be back in this place to receive your benediction, Archmage Flatt. It is a shame that the other Lost Children were put to the sword in Green Grass, but life is never fair. Thank you for this opportunity. Thank you for allowing us to feel the love of our god again.”

Erick did not recoil, though a part of him wanted to.

Erick just accepted the man’s words as they were, for though Daizing was likely a very, very skilled liar, he seemed exceedingly religious. Erick hoped the man wasn’t as crazy as Priestess, but he probably was. Erick could likely call out to Melemizargo right here, and now, and prove the validity of Daizing’s zeal, or uncover his lies… But. No.

Let’s not do that.

Erick moved on, saying, “Okay.”

Daizing smiled wide, still crying and yet very cheerful, as he copied, “Okay!”

Erick swept a [Luminosity] across the dragon scale, thoroughly breaking whatever enchantment was upon the body part, and then he took it with him through the light, to a [Cascade Imaging] he had set up closer to Ooloraptoor.

- - - -

He Imaged for the DNA inside the scale, but after five minutes there were no results. Perhaps the dragon scale wasn’t an organic object, at all. So he searched for the shape of the scale, instead, hoping for something.

He found a target; singular.

- - - -

Upon the grassy plains east of Oolooraptoor, a hundred kilometers from any other person, there was a small boulder. Upon that boulder was a green scale. Erick did not touch that second scale with any part of his being, but from the looks of it, the scale was probably a [Duplicate] match for the one Daizing had given him.

The spell hovering above the scale was the important part here.

It was a [Viewing Screen], like a window into another world made of pure white, where only the barest edges of walls and a floor marked the space as a small room. Erick brought his avatar out from Ophiel, to stand before the [Viewing Screen]. He waited.

Within moments a squiggle of dark green appeared amid the white, before flowing out into the white space like swirling green-black mist.

“Archmage Flatt,” came the voice from the Screen. “You are entering into problems that do not concern you. Leave these lands and never return.”

“Why did you have the Mirage Dragon attack me? I thought I was very clear about my stance of not Imaging for dragons. That bit of information should have gotten around to everyone out there. You had no reason to attack me.”

“And yet, here you are.”

“When I am attacked, I respond.” Erick said, “As would anyone.”

“I have tried to play nice—”

“Lie. You tried to kill me, Ordoonarati. Luckily, the Mirage Dragon didn’t seem to keen on my murder, and so you failed. And then you used face stealers and a Dark sect to try and kill me, again. You have ties to a lot of dangerous organizations, which informs me that you dabble in Evil, and thus something needs to be done about you, in addition to everyone else that you have used to get to me. I’m already working on them. The only question is what to do about you.”

Erick wasn’t actually sure if Ordoonarati was lying or not since there was nothing to go on besides verbal cues, and yet everything the dragon said seemed to make more sense as a lie, than as any sort of truth. Erick wasn’t wholly sure about his own conclusions of recent events, either, since he didn’t have all the answers as to why all of this shit was happening around him, or exactly how it was all connected, but it all fit in a certain, obvious way, and so, Erick went with it.

But if anyone called him out as going off half-cocked, he would not argue with them.

Luckily, it appeared that Erick’s guesses were on the money, or at least Ordoonarati acted like they were. 

Ordoonarati patiently said, “All I have done was let the people around me do whatever they wanted to do. Some of those people seek to do wrong by each other, and it is my responsibility as a hands-off participant in this world to let those people do wrong. But that does not mean I do not know of those evils. If I have made any moves against you at all, these moves have been made by using those evils such that it could be said that I helped you to clean up the evils around here. That is what all young Heroes like to do, right? I fell out of that need long ago, and I suspect you will, too. It might take a century, though.

“As for my reasons for needing to stop you: The forces that you assist, those people who wish to Integrate us into one of your cities: They seek to turn us into another society that is controlled by outside forces and interior pressures. One where outsiders decide the fates of those who live within. If you ask me what is actual evil, I would say that this control, and your desire to influence the world outside of where you actually live, this is the true evil. I am merely doing what I can to throw you off. If you would go away, and leave us to ourselves, then I need not do anything more against you.”

There was a time when Ordoonarati’s words would have thrown Erick off, but not anymore.

“… What is this weird gambit? These twisty words? You’re nothing but lies, aren’t you? Lies and soul shifting to even more lies.” Erick said, “Maybe the Dragon Stalkers were right, and that dragons are nothing more than their Element. Do I need to find a Wizard to change your Element from Shadows to Truth, so that we can have an honest conversation? They’d have to invent ‘Truth’ first, but that’s what Wizards do, right?”

The swirling green-black shadows suddenly halted. After a second, they began to move again, as Ordoonarati said, “I will give you the locations and information about every single shadow operative in these lands if you deliver unto me a Wizard of any skill at all. If you bring me a Wizard of medium skill, I will also inform you of [Gate]. Until then: I suggest a truce. No direct attacks against each other or against the interests of each other. I will even allow your entrance into the integration debates. Perhaps you and I can even have a great debate over the values and evils of organized society, though I cannot let you know which debaters are backed by me, for there are other dragons out there, Erick. Surely you understand. But even with such a restriction, maybe I, or my people, can convince you to leave we grass travelers alone.”

“… I am going to continue to supply my services against all face stealers and Hunters. I will help the grass travelers throw away these deadly forces, and if I catch a hint of your involvement in any of that again— If you try to stop me, then there can be no truce, for there is no truce to be had against tyrants.”

“Perhaps we have gotten off on the wrong start.” The green shadows swirled. “Tell me true: Are you a pawn of the Headmaster, searching for dragons for him to eat?”

“I am not, and never have been.” Erick added, “Until you came after me, I made it very clear to him, and to everyone, that I never wanted to get involved with dragons, at all. Did you attack me because you thought you were in danger of death?”

“… It seems that you and I have no reason to fight, except if you continue to persist in this arena of Integration. If you go against Hunters and otherwise, then I have no qualms with you. But if you attempt to take away my world, then I will take away yours. We will debate in Ooloraptoor, but if I lose, then you will lose.”

The [Viewing Screen] winked out.

- - - -

Erick came back to himself. He sat up in his chair.

He looked over to Poi, and asked, “I would like to know about Mind Mages, and why you can’t just point out all the face stealers, please.”

Poi was ready for this demand. “Okay.”