Erick landed on the air, just above the ground in front of the rock man. He maintained his sunform, and said, “I need you to let these people go. Please clear out.”

The rock man bowed, slightly, then rose, and said, “Apologies, good sir. We cannot do that. Tenebrae is contracted with Treehome with bargains much older than the one he has with you. One of these is that he has been tasked with preventing the mass escape of the commune if such an event should come to pass. And besides, you have called for justice, so let us have justice.” He added, “We are merely the first responders to today’s events. There are other archmages on their way, and already watching, and you will not be able to handle us all, so let us play nicely, please.”

Play nicely? Erick balked, and then he considered.

With a sudden shock to his mind, Erick realized that he had overstepped some major lines. Everything had rapidly and terribly spun way out of control. He only meant to stop the fighting. He did not mean to step in and take away Treehome’s autonomy to deal with their own criminals. But… The fighting had stopped! That was good, right? But.

But why the fuck had he spoken like that to everyone? Telling them that there would be an End to… whatever it was he had promised. Thinking back over his words, he had no idea what was going through his head at the time.

But he rolled with it. He plowed forward, telling the rock man, “There will be justice. I trust that Tenebrae will not interfere as long as the people here don’t try to escape without that justice?”

The rock man said, “That is not truly acceptable to Tenebrae, but it will be as it will be. Tenebrae says that as long as Treehome bothers you before they bother him, then he doesn’t care what happens here.”

“… Okay.” Erick said.

He turned away from the rock man, and the deep lines of rime-covered golems. He faced the commune, and the shadelings standing far behind him, near the ruined walls, and on the edges of the shadows. Most of them were ready to retreat into the darkness at the first sign of trouble. But some stood tall, and in the open. They waited for Erick to come to them.

He obliged. Erick stepped across a field of broken stone and grass, his feet flashing light as he walked, rain all around him turning fires into steam, and dirt into mud. Poi walked beside him, supported by Erick’s light. The silence all around him, from the people, from the city, from the golems waiting for war not twenty meters away, threatened to crush Erick, the tension and coiled intent in the air dense enough to see for those who had sight for such a thing, and Erick certainly did.

Mana roiled in the shadows, and in the stone, and in the fire, and in the people. Eyes and fangs and scales and wings; Melemizargo was nearby, but he was as silent as usual. Erick would not call out to him, or to any other gods. That would just be making everything much more complicated, and this event was already complicated enough.

Erick glanced to Poi, wordlessly asking for assistance that he knew the man might not be willing to give.

Poi nodded, then said, “I can help with that.”

Erick banished the sudden smile from his face. And then he walked forward, to meet the two people who stood before him, waiting for him to come closer to the broken commune. Both of them were shadelings, and also orcols. One man, one woman. Neither wore nice clothes, but their clothes were certainly nicer than the clothes of the shadelings at Candlepoint, back when they were first brought to that young city.

The woman and man stood straight. They each slammed a fist to their own chest, rumbling the air with the sound as gentle thunder rolled overhead.

Erick asked, “Are you two amenable to clearing out the dangerous aspects of this place, and finding a new home elsewhere, perhaps at Candlepoint?”

“Sir, yes sir!” they said, in unison.

The man said, “We’ve been waiting for someone we can trust to come in and break the hold they have on us.”

The woman announced, “We didn’t know we were waiting for you, but at your announcement, we realized damn fast that you were our chance.”

Erick asked, “Are you Cultists?”

“NO!” Spat the man, before realizing he probably shouldn’t have done that. He looked ashamed for a half-second, for yelling at Erick.

Erick didn’t hold it against the man.

“We are not cultists.” The woman replied with a bit more tact, but her face showed the difficulty in holding back her anger. “They call us that because we look like this. That is all.”

The man, now calm, said, “If we were cultists, then we wouldn’t have turned shadeling!” He wasn’t that calm when he finished speaking, but emotions were running high, and this much anger was expected. The man said, “We just didn’t want to be connected to the Red Dream anymore, and now we’re not. Some of the people in charge of Treehome didn’t like that.”

“I want to say that that is surprising, but it is not.” Not after what Erick had seen already. Erick nodded, then gestured to his side, at Poi, saying, “This is my friend and Mind Mage, Poi. He will be helping me to solve the problems here, quickly, for those who will allow such a thing.”

The man instantly glanced to Poi, his softly-glowing white eyes turning softer, sadder, and perhaps angrier, before he turned back toward Erick.

While Poi bowed, ever so slightly, Erick raised his voice, so those outside of his immediate encounter could hear, “But denying such a mental intrusion will not result in a denial of your plight. Justice will just proceed slower, is all. Even if most of you are not Cultists, there is at least one Cultist here, and I think some of you know who I am talking about.

“I am here, and I am willing to help, and I have the power to back up my desire to help.” Erick spoke up for the benefit of others, outside of the current conversation, “How do you wish to start? For my own purposes, it would be helpful if known Cult operatives would be brought forward. I honestly do not care about those who have helped you when others would not, or those who have done nothing violent against Treehome, or other people. But some of the Cult is hiding in this commune, and they have contributed to murder and mayhem, therefore I need to see them Ended for Peace to begin.”

Some shuddered at Erick’s voice. A few slunk off into the deeper shadows, racing away.

The woman glanced to Poi, too, but her brief look was one of longing, and hate, and acceptance, all at once. Then she focused on Erick, and spoke with hope in her voice, “Then I wish to be cleared right now. I can’t speak for everyone, but I know many who would accept a Mind Mage clearance, if that’s what it takes to get out of this cesspit of a ‘commune’.” She said the word wish such derision that Erick felt it in his gut, then she said, “Clear me, and I will help you scour this commune, and then I will accept a place at Candlepoint, since no one in my former Treehome would accept me.”

“She’s clear,” Poi said, without prompting. “She’s tried to get Mind Mage help several times, but we could not intervene without another power backing us up, and no one was willing to do that. You are that power, now, Erick.”

Erick accepted that, and asked the woman, “What is your name?”

“Lashii, sir!” said the woman, Lashii.

Erick looked at the man.

“Toruke, sir.”

Erick glanced back to the map he had left over the center of the city. Omaz was still in the center of the commune. Erick came back to himself, and said, “Then let us go meet with Omaz. He seems to want to say something, since he hasn’t moved much since he broke out of the Hole, killed a bunch of people, and came here.”

Lashii frowned, deeply, as she practically growled.

Toruke said, “He’s in House Four. That’s where the Cult gathers.”

Erick asked, “Has the guard or anyone else actually tried to speak with you? To treat you like people?”

“Some.” Lashii said, “But most of those people have turned out to be Cultists themselves.”

“Omaz Wyrmrest was one of those people,” Toruke said. “Practically half of the guards are cultists, too. But the only way our story gets out is through those people! Of course the world would think that we’re Cultists, but anyone with half a brain would know that the only ones that got turned into shadelings were those that didn’t believe in Melemizargo!” His voice got away from him again, as his anger flowed like a fresh wound. “That’s how it fucking works! They know this, too.”

Erick said, “I’m not here to prosecute Cultists, anyway. I’m here to defuse the threat of Omaz and any co-conspirators, and then to End this poor treatment of you, either through reintegration to Treehome, or offering an invitation for you all to come to Candlepoint.” He gestured to the broken commune beyond, pointing at one building in particular, saying, “I’m going in there. I advise you two to find and secure everyone who you wish to secure, and to prepare for a full accounting. There will be no more war today. There will only be an End to whatever is going on here.”

Lashii and Toruke slammed fists against their chests again, as they stepped to the sides.

Erick walked forward, into the commune.

The buildings reminded him of how Candlepoint had been, before Erick took over. It was a sad sight. Treehome had failed these people; through a combination of fear, segregation, and hidden conspirators in the shadows, the people of this commune had been failed by those who they had trusted. Maybe some of them had chosen to take multiple Stat fruits in order to willingly become shadelings to separate from Aloethag. Maybe some of them had been lured into the promise of power. Maybe some of them actually were Cultists, if not before they turned shadeling, then maybe afterward. Toruke was a Cultist, for sure. Erick saw as much when he protested so strongly against the Cultists.

Though he wasn’t a hundred percent sure about that.

Erick made it to the building with Omaz without incident. Many shadeling orcols watched him walk through their city, their eyes glimpsing out of the shadows like tiny, paired stars. He watched many shadelings vacate the shadows around his intended building, like bundles of magic whisking away, through the half-darkness all around.

Erick cast a [Domain of Light] upon the building, tumbling several shadelings out of the eaves and darkened corners of the place with as much gentleness as he could muster at the moment. Some of them crashed outside a little harder than was necessary. And then Erick walked inside. It was a boring building. Stone walls. Glass windows. Bare floor. Furniture of rough make and little comfort.

Omaz sat on one such couch on the second floor, surrounded by severed heads. He looked to Erick, as Erick walked into the room. Then he glanced down to the fresh heads around the room. Erick recognized four of the eighteen heads. They were the heads of those on the boards, back in Koropo’s conference room. Erick recognized a few of the other heads, too, including one Elder he had briefly spied earlier, and wasn’t that a surprise. Some of the heads belonged to complete unknowns.

No one spoke.

And then Erick spoke, “A lot of orcols can survive with their heads cut off. This could all be fake.”

Omaz smiled. “True. Then at least you could think of this as a gesture of goodwill. Maybe all of these people are still alive and waiting for judgment.”

“What do you want?”

“… I’ve been thinking that I could learn to live under that Blessing of yours.” He looked to the Silver Prism on Erick’s chest, saying, “I was against the idea, at first. I even had a good ten backup plans so I would never need to get to this point. The Hole only held me for a minute!” He smiled, then he lost his smile. “Had to burn a lot of favors on that one. I thought that my base out in the Forest was defended rather well, too. Literally no other Scan has ever been able to find us there. The spells defending that place were centuries old and filled with power. But your [Familiar]s are way too strong, Archmage Flatt. Your Scanning spell is too new. Too much of a battlefield shift.” He added, “And then Melemizargo stopped talking to me. That was the final straw. I went all out! I tried to accomplish what no other had before. And I failed, just like all the rest. So I wish to repent for as long as it takes.”

He was lying about wishing to repent, but Erick said, “Okay.”

Erick flickered the Silver Prism to real, shifted it around the room faster than the speed of thought, and slammed its magic into the back of Omaz’s head, the exact moment he had agreed to Omaz’s request. Omaz flinched forward. Magic roiled through his body. Erick cast a [Harmonic Counterspell], denying whatever Omaz was doing, as a sliver of soul magic soaked through the orcol’s Shroud, invading his core, making a home for itself before becoming one with Omaz’s entire being.

Maybe he had thought he was better than the Shades who had fallen to the same magic? It was possible. He seemed rather arrogant out there, when he was taunting Syllea.

Omaz’s wide, angry eyes, turned soft, as he crashed to the floor of the room, already crying, his eyes going wider as he turned toward the heads laying around the room.

Erick added, “And if you think that whatever parts of yourself you have divorced away are somehow able to come back and break through what has happened here and now, then you must truly be delusional.” He declared, “I wish you well in your pursuit of redemption, for wishing for that is wishing for the good of us all. You will receive no further help from me, and you will likely die if you don’t run. If you get a godly Quest, then good luck with that. Goodbye, Omaz.”

Omaz reached for one of the heads; a woman’s.

He never touched it. Erick blipped him away with a [Teleport Other], sending him into a spot of the Forest he had already scouted ahead of time, into the carved-out knot of a tree. An Ophiel watched as the man curled his outstretched fingers into a fist, followed fast by his entire body, curling in on himself as tears streamed from tightly-closed eyes.

With an insouciant shrug, Erick said, “Glad to see it works on non-Shades.” He stared down at the heads. They glimmered quite brightly in the surreal glow of the [Domain of Light] all around. Blood seemed as rubies, and emerald eyes truly resembled emeralds. He said to Poi, “Can you let them know Omaz has been soul-shackled with Empathy, and that several heads of the cult and one Elder are possibly dead. There is some overlap in those two groups, too.” Erick added, “They can start moving in some investigators, now.”

Poi resolutely said, “Done.” He added, “They’re on their way.”

Erick stepped out of the building, to stand upon the short stairs leading up to the place. He and Poi were soon joined by others, but not by soldiers of Special Forces, or anyone else from that direction, but instead by Lashii, Toruke, and lots of other shadelings. The people of the commune stood in the shadows, and in the rain on the street, but they stood tall, and proud, shoulder to shoulder, gazing up at Erick where he waited on those short stairs into the building. They looked at him like he was the only path leading out of a forest fire. In a sense, he was.

Lashii spoke for the people she had gathered, “Greetings, Archmage. We are those who would be cleared by Mind Mage, and who would like to move out, right now, to Candlepoint.” She added, “We will need your assistance to get through the blockades, as all of our own Spatial Magic has been stripped from us.”

“Okay.” Erick quickly counted, then said, “There’s about eighty of you.” He looked to Poi.

With a dozen tendrils of intent coming off of his head and more being added every second, Poi answered Erick’s unasked question, saying, “I can do this. It will take a little under a minute per person to uncover anything but surface thoughts.” As a wave of worry silently passed through the crowd in front of them, Poi silently sent to Erick, ‘This is very irregular. There will be blowback from asking this of the Mind Mages, and you know this, but I must actually say it so that you understand.’

Erick acknowledged Poi with a nod, then spoke to the people in front of him, “We’ll finish in groups of ten, and then I’ll send those people on their way, but know that you do not need to do this mental probe. This is just for speed of departure. There is nothing wrong with doing this the harder, longer way, with background checks and the support of Treehome, and with final farewells to anyone who you might be leaving behind.” He repeated, “Once again, agreeing to a mental probe is not necessary to leave this place, or for joining Candlepoint.”

A few people in the crowd stood relieved, their shoulders loosening and their eyes relaxing. Others looked to Poi like he was their quick ticket out of this place. And he was.

Lashii spoke for herself, and for many of those behind her, saying, “We understand, Archmage Flatt. We’re ready to leave as soon as we can, but I will go after everyone else.” She stepped to the side, shouting behind her, “Form lines and ranks! We’re doing this as fast as possible.”

Before many people could move, Toruke spoke up, “I’m going to wait for the law of Treehome to clear us, as will many of us.” He said, “Full disclosure: Many of us participated in the battle that you ended, because they were coming after us. The Cultists have infiltrated much of the guard here, and we had to defend ourselves.” With a hard voice, he said, “We will not be held accountable for defending ourselves from those people.”

Quite a few people in the crowd behind either nodded, or gave small ‘Yeah’s.

Erick narrowed his eyes, and said, “You will be held accountable if you actually participated in that fight, as will I be held accountable for stepping into Treehome’s affairs like this. But the nature of that accountability will be subject to politics instead of summary judgment. I will ensure that you are treated fairly, to the best of my ability.”

The crowd didn’t know what to make of that, and that was fine. Erick felt like he was talking out of his ass, but he made it work, as best he could. Who knew what Treehome’s response would be, now that Erick had taken this position, and already dealt partial judgment to Omaz, one of the worst terrorists of Treehome, according to his own words.

Poi stepped to the side, Erick keeping him safe inside of his Light-filled Domain, while the orcols under Lashii lined up. A sort of silence descended, as many people watched the first person get a memory probe.

Poi declared, “What you are about to participate in is a full mental scan. Nothing will be shared with anyone else if you consent to this action, except for Cultist status and any malicious murders you might have committed. These two statuses will be publicly shared. Do you consent?”

“I do,” said the woman, with steel in her voice.

Poi nodded, then stood there, his eyes partially unfocused and staring out into the middle-distance, while tendrils of intent floated away from him to intersect the young woman. Poi’s tendrils did not just touch her head, but also her chest, legs, and all the rest of her, seeming to soak into the woman’s skin, to catch upon her bones and layer across her flesh. She raised her right hand just a bit to look upon the tendrils. Oh? Ah. For a brief moment, Erick stopped all of his unnatural, magically enhanced Sights, and saw that Poi’s intent was visible to normal vision. The color of his magic was the faintest blue, like a clear sky. Erick resumed his magical sights, and his straightforward gaze.

Twenty seconds in, with no one nearby speaking, but several small voices asking questions of other people in the deeper parts of the crowd, Poi’s eyes focused, as he turned to Erick, and said, “Warchief Koropo Ikabobbi and a few Chieftains, including Peron Wyrmrest, are asking to speak with you about your current actions. Would you like to meet them at the guardhouse, back across your dividing light at the first battlefield?”

“No,” Erick said, “Tell them to come here.”

Poi withheld a sigh, then said, “Chieftain Wyrmrest’s words are as follows: They will not treat with a vigilante in the middle of a field of monsters.”

Erick said, “Then they will not get their meeting, for I am a very busy person at the moment, and so are you. Please continue as you were, Poi.”

Poi nodded, then went back to scanning the woman in front of her.

Erick stood on those steps leading up to the building, stiff as a statue, devoting half of his attention to seeing through the eyes of his Ophiel, to make sure certain situations were either resolving, controlled, or not worth his time, while also maintaining Domain strength and keeping an eye out on the line of golems, and the various forces gathering all around the commune. He had an Ophiel cast a [Prismatic Ward] across him and Poi, just to give himself a bit more of a buffer if someone should decide to attack.

Poi softly said to the woman, “You’re clear. Please step to the side.”

An unruly tear fell from the woman’s left eye, but she brushed that away as quickly as it had come, then did as she was asked.

Erick had a half-sized Ophiel come down from point defense, to float to the woman’s side, as he said, “I can take one at a time, too, if you wish to go now.”

The woman said, “Please!”

Ophiel wrapped the woman in light, turning into a reflection of the sun, while others looked on, and Erick said, “You’ll be there in under ten seconds, so just hold on to the light.”

The woman nodded once, and then she was gone, along with Ophiel and his sunform. Erick briefly watched as Ophiel lightstepped without stopping. Five seconds later, and Ophiel deposited the woman into the center of Candlepoint, not too far from the waters, and rather close to the bright white Crystal in the center of town. Slip and a few other guards stood to the side, for Erick had already notified them of what was happening. The Guardmaster of Candlepoint waved, then tried to start a little speech.

But the woman broke down. Tears of joy rolled down her face as she thanked Ophiel and the man, profusely, and Slip went with it, handing her off to one of his orcol guards. Erick noticed that he had a minotaur guard, and then he noticed an incani guard that was not a shadeling. She must have been recently transformed back into her former race, for Erick didn’t remember seeing her before now. Good for her.

Back in the commune, to Erick’s left, Poi was already scanning another person; a man.

But that look back to Candlepoint got him thinking.

He spoke up to the crowd, “There is a Dark Temple at Candlepoint, where one can speak to Melemizargo and rid themselves of their shadeling status, if you so wish. It is not a pleasant experience, just so you are aware.”

A chuckle started in the crowd.

Toruke took up the chuckle, and turned it into a laugh, as he said, “You should have led with that!”

Erick warned, “It’s not a sure thing. I’m not sure what happened in the Well with those other orcols who went there and came back as themselves.” The laughter died. “Whatever personal meeting you might have with Melemizargo in that Dark Temple does not mean that you will come out of it whole and unharmed. The very process of recapturing your previous self is filled with danger.”

Toruke said, “Aye! And that’s fine with me. I thought I hated the Red Bitch, but I’d take her over any more of this. I’ll miss Constitution and Dexterity, but they’re not necessary.”

Someone shouted in the back, “They wouldn’t let us all go to Ar’Kendrithyst!”

Another shouted, “Some of the cult tried to get one of them Dark Temples up and running here!” A few people turned to the newcomer, and he spoke louder, “Yeah! That’s the rumor I heard. If we had a Dark Temple here, then we could have scoured these New Stats from us and gone back to Treehome!”

“Why didn’t they do that?” Erick asked. Though he had a guess as to ‘why not’, he still asked the question.

Toruke spoke loud enough for everyone, as he said, “The Elders and the Chieftains voted against that. Couldn’t have a Dark Temple here, even if it would have let some of us brave that transformation. A few Elders tried to get it to happen, but they couldn’t.”

“Which Elders tried to get the temple?” Erick asked.

Toruke blanked. “I’m not sure.”

Someone spoke up, “Elder Atanaro-Home and Elder Bilovac-Nosier.”

Erick nodded. He expected the first name, but had no idea who the other person was.

Silence descended once again, filled with the sounds of rain.

It’s not like the Chieftains and Elders were wrong to not let a Dark Temple be put up in here, but it still would have solved a lot of problems. Maybe the commune would have dissolved on its own, as people chose to walk away from Melemizargo after hearing what the Dark Dragon had to say. But… At the same time… Erick could understand not wanting people to ever speak to the Darkness. That was just asking for trouble. Which is likely why Elder Atanaro-Home wanted the temple here, in the first place.

Another person spoke up, “Wouldn’t let the Registrars visit, either!”

“That’s just downright wrong,” Erick said.

Erick briefly watched as Poi gestured to a waiting Ophiel, and softly gave the man he had been scanning the all clear. The man stepped toward Ophiel. Ophiel whisked him away to Candlepoint in a flutter of light, then came right back, by himself, chirping in violins as he fluttered back into his waiting position.

Erick asked, “Why not let the Registrars in?”

Toruke said, “Not sure.”

Lashii responded with a shrug, but then immediately went back to the line for Poi, giving a few people the evil eye who had tried to push forward.

Poi gave his little speech to the next person in line, “What you are about to participate in is a full mental scan. Nothing will be shared with anyone else if you consent to this action, except for Cultist status and any malicious murders you might have committed. These two statuses will be publicly shared. Do you consent?”

“I do.”

Erick watched Poi, and many other things, all at the same time.

Poi got a few seconds into the next person, when he turned to Erick, and said, “Warchief Koropo and a small team wants to be here for this. They have ended the various threats concurrently happening around Treehome.”

“Sure.” Erick said, “I will attend to them as we are doing this. Tell them to bring some paperwork or whatever for whatever criminals that they need to find, and to come directly into the building behind us.” He looked up at the sky, and though he didn’t really feel the rain, and it was putting out small fires all over the place, it was likely mightily uncomfortable for everyone standing in the streets all around. Some of Treehome was still burning, though. He asked, “What about the rain. Do they still need that?”

Poi had already returned to his scan, but he said, “The Arbors are all using the rain to repair. Every single one of them was struck hard today. Leave it raining, they say.”

Erick sighed. He was sorry that he hadn’t been there for more of that fight. He did see as some [Grand Fireballs] struck the great stretching branches of Arbor Nosier, and watched as stone rumbled through the streets of Arbor O’kabil, upsetting buildings and breaking much, but he was maxed out on Ophiel. He could do nothing else except for stopping the fight at the commune, which, admittedly, was the largest fight. Others helped to end the Cultist threat in the rest of the city, for Treehome was very much not defenseless, with the Arbors themselves providing much of the counterattack. But still… Erick was sorry he couldn’t have done more.

Poi, deep in his scan, mumbled, “They say not to worry about it. Ending the fight here was a win for them, too.”

Erick allowed himself a small smile, and almost said something else. But then he turned around to face the interior of the building. He flexed his control over the Light in the air, and let a [Teleport] happen. He had picked up quite a few tricks from that book on Domains, and after seeing the Arbors of Treehome, and how effortlessly they denied certain spells, it was not a large stretch to employ such methods with his own Domain. Blocking [Teleport]s coming in was easy. All Erick had to do for that was to make the space a bit more constrained, thus shunting out all inward-bound blips toward the outside of the Domain. He’d need anti-[Teleport] runes in the walls, exactly like the Arbors used, if he wanted to block people from blipping away, though.

The air blipped, and a small platoon of people appeared in the open room beyond; Koropo, Naervion, and a few other Special Forces members. They were dressed for full warfare, with heavy armor, but without any weapons, or paperwork. Maybe they were prepared for war, and not for paperwork? If that were the case, then Erick was disappointed. But it was understandable. Hopefully it wouldn’t come to that.

Erick greeted them, saying, “Hello, Special Forces. The heads are upstairs. Omaz has been soul-shifted into repentance and he’s out in the Forest in a safe spot, for now. That’s as much as I am doing for that murderer and traitor; the rest of his existence is on him. If you wish to pursue him, then you can, but as you have no doubt noticed, I have already dismissed the map in the center of the city. There will be no easy searches for him, this time.”

Koropo rumbled, “We’re going to talk about all of that, Erick. But we’ll deal with the heads first.” He touched the Light in the air, asking, “This you?”

Erick nodded. “Yup.”

Koropo grunted, then turned to the stairs, taking the forward position as he walked upward. Naervion did a little bow at Erick, before rapidly following Koropo and everyone else. She seemed to be taking up the rear. Erick would watch her closely. She was a very good actor. Erick turned back toward the shadelings of the commune, to watch over them, and to watch over Poi, to make sure his friend stayed safe while he worked.

“Thanks, sir,” Poi mumbled, as he continued to scan the person in front of him. “I can do multiple things at the same time, though.”

Erick smiled, then thought at the man, ‘I didn’t want to say it earlier, but you seem to be messing up your telepathic messages and your verbal ones.’

Poi flinched as though struck, coming back to himself with a start. His sapphire scaled face briefly turned darker, then he focused again, sending, ‘Well… It won’t happen again.’

‘Don’t worry about it.’ Erick sent, ‘Thank you, Poi. This is much more than I expected, and I won’t forget to repay this to whoever needs repayment.’

‘We’ve decided to throw in with you, sir.’ Poi sent, ‘But if you’re worried about repayment, then Imaging for the various monsters we’ve already discussed is more than enough. In fact, we would still owe you quite a lot.’

‘… Well okay then. I did not expect that, but it is rather nice of you, Poi, and everyone else on your side.’

Poi just nodded, as he continued to scan the person in front of him.

Erick quietly watched over the proceedings, along with everyone else on the streets. Soon enough, Poi released his current target with an all clear, Ophiel took them away, and Poi moved onto the next person, repeating his request for consent. The next person in line readily gave it, and the line moved up.

- - - -

After fifteen people had gotten through the line and even more shadelings had chosen to get into the line, Naervion came down the stairs. Erick turned toward her.

She said, “We’ve confirmed the heads of fourteen of the eighteen up there. A few of them are the heads of those who broke him out of the Hole. A few belong to the guard who we had stationed around the commune—”

Toruke shouted, “We told you!”

Naervion didn’t engage with the man. She ignored him completely and kept going, “And a few more of them were a surprise. Which is what we need to talk about. Can we talk?”

“I want to. But that depends.” Erick asked, “Why did Koropo not step down here to tell me this, and what is the discussion going to be about?”

As if expecting the question, Naervion said, “Warchief Ikabobbi is currently engaged with the entire Conclave of Elders over the identity of some of the heads up there. Firstly, the discussion will be about locating the rest of the bodies up there, and the people themselves, if they live. I don’t know what it’ll be beyond that.”

Erick nodded. He neither sensed nor saw any lies from Naervion, but maybe that was just because she had told the truth and the people who sent her were lying, or due to the fact that she was a rather good actor. He decided to go along with her request. He said, “Sure.” And then he stepped forward.

Naervion led the way upstairs.

He set another Ophiel to watch over Poi, and followed the Special Forces woman up the stairs, to the room with the heads. Naervion stepped to the side and made herself available, but out of the way, while the rest of the soldiers had the heads separated around the room, and labeled. Erick saw some paperwork, this time, on the clipboards in the hands of some people, and in a box set to the side. Koropo Ikabobbi stood off-center in the room, his fingers supporting his forehead while tendrils of thought radiated from him. He turned to Erick, then turned away, muttering that he’d be a moment.

Erick waited.

Ten seconds later, Koropo dropped several tendrils of thought, and turned to Erick, saying, “A lot of people who have been sympathetic toward the shadelings are now dead, and the Cult shows itself yet again.” Before Erick could get mad, Koropo pointed to three of the heads. “Specifically Elder Atanaro-Home, Elder Huni-Rottundra, and Elder Demetriol-Leaf-Cutter. We don’t know when they were replaced, or if they were turned long ago. We think that Huni and Demetrio were replaced at least four months ago with some unknown magics, the least of which were [Polymorph]. Atanaro was turned. Arbor Home is inconsolable at the moment. Atanaro had control over much of the commune, and was responsible for much of the anti-shadeling sentiment that kept them separate from the rest of Treehome, along with a great deal of the sentiment that kept this place from being bombed to an abyss.” Koropo added, “He worked over both sides, trying to establish more power by holding the looming threat of the shadelings over them all. It wasn’t hard, for though they look like people, they are monsters, Erick. You know this.”

“Yes. They are.” Erick said, “But so are dragons, and if it weren’t for their Blood Curse they would be monsters that weren’t crazy like all the rest.”

Koropo paused, alongside everyone else in the room who had been listening. He said, “It does the monsters downstairs no benefit to compare them to dragons.”

“You’re right, of course.” Erick asked, “So who needs finding?”

Koropo pointed at the three heads. “The Elders, first, to make sure they truly are dead. From there, our people are going to do some heavy [Witness]ing to see if we can find out who helped Omaz to do all of this.” He looked to Erick. “And we need to find Omaz, if you could help with that, too.”

Erick glanced through the light, then he turned back to the room, saying, “He hasn’t moved much. He’s still crying. I can’t help you find him, though. He has been soul-shackled, too, and I have a responsibility to let that play out.”

Koropo frowned.

Erick gestured toward the woman’s head Omaz had been reaching for, saying, “That one has some special connection to Omaz. Not sure what it was, though.”

Koropo glanced to the head, then said, “Yeah… Her. That’s Blackfist Groka. She was a major player in the Adventuring scene out of Steel-Branch’s Guildhouse. Look. Erick. This is a fucking mess. It’s gonna take us months to get through all the shit that unloaded all over this city today. What can I do to speed along whatever you’re doing out there? I want them gone, and their problems vanished from my purview.”

“… I appreciate the pragmatism, Koropo, so I accept your help.” Erick said, “A lot of them don’t want to accept a Mind Mage rooting around for secrets and hidden murders in their pasts, so any help you can give to clear the rest of any malicious murders or known connections to the Cult? That’s what I need to get them out of your city and into mine.”

Koropo asked, “And what will you do if we find out they’re Cultists?”

“Two people who’ve gone through Poi were already found to be Cultists.” Erick said, “They committed no crimes and enabled no murders. They’re already safe at Candlepoint. I’m not sure what we’ll do about the Cultists who don’t submit to a mind probe. I suspect I will hand them over to you.”

Koropo sighed. “Just like that? Eh? You really trust those monsters that much?”

“They’re only technically monsters. Every single one of them has their own mind, and is their own person. If there was one thing that I learned when I was at Shadow’s Feast in Ar’Kendrithyst, it’s that Melemizargo doesn’t do mind control. If there’s a monster that can speak and reason with you, then chances are they’re not that monstrous. They just have bad urges sometimes.”

Koropo asked, “You know that Moon Reachers can trick you and speak Ecks and hunt just as good as any person, right? With traps and feints and planning. Does that make them people, too?”

Erick stared at Koropo. “… Moon Reachers are people too? Fuck me. Shit.”

“Ha!” Koropo chuckled, then said, “That’s not where I thought you would go with that!”

“You’re— You’re lying to me, right? Moon Reachers aren’t people, are they?”

Koropo lost all of his mirth. “They know enough to pretend to be people long enough to get where they need to get in order to do the most damage. They enjoy hurting the people they hunt. They rip off legs and arms and watch as people wonder why they can’t walk or why they’re suddenly bad at using a sword. They’ve been using a sword their whole adult life. They can’t even imagine why they thought they were good with a sword, though, because they don’t have any arms.” He pointed down at the floor, toward the entrance to the building, saying, “That’s what everyone sees when they see those shadelings pretending to be people, because that’s the type of monster they’ve always been. That’s why they were in a commune and separated from everyone else. A lot of people were calling for their deaths, but a lot of people decided we couldn’t do that simply because they resembled people so well.”

Erick suddenly recalled something that Al had told him, long ago. The Headmaster routinely had to break ‘idiot, naive nobles’ from believing that they could talk to the monsters and play nicely with them, or that the taint of monsterhood could be removed from a monster. He had experiments set up for all of that. People could try to talk to monsters, or watch them, or do their own experiments. Almost always, the experimenter came out of those experiments with a newfound appreciation for monster killing. Sometimes, that wasn’t enough, though. Once a person was done with the idea of civilizing a monster, they moved onto the more radical procedures.

One of those experiments was the raising of monsters in captivity, and the separation of rads from a forming fetus. Those baby monsters never developed right, and routinely had to be euthanized for they were in constant, never-ending pain, for the constant removal of nascent rads from their bodies always left heavy wounds that never healed quite right. If they let the rads form, though, the monsters became what they were meant to be, their damage healed, and they were as murderous as any monster found in the wild.

Except for shadelings. And dragons. And Ancients, with their powers of speech and thought, like the Queen Unicorn that Jane fought. And the Shades themselves…

Those monsters were perfectly capable of being civilized, for a certain definition of ‘civilized’.

Erick said, “I don’t have all the answers, Koropo. All I know is that there are two types of shadelings. Those who have lost themselves to the monster therein, and those who have woken up to who they were before the Darkness claimed them. It appears every single person who took in more than one of the New Stats is of the second type. They never had to go through the trouble of regaining themselves through reincarnation, and they are lucky for that.”

“I don’t know that word, ‘Reincarnation’. But I do know [Polymorph]s. I do know pretenders. I know of changelings in the dark that lure you in with pretty words and long-forgotten faces. I know that sometimes, being a person isn't good enough of a reason to be spared the axe.” Koropo asked, “Do you know of those horrors? Or are you willingly looking the other way?”

“I know that what I believe to be true is vastly different from what you believe to be true.” Erick said, “So let us discard this discussion, and get the problem out of your city and into mine.”

“… Fair enough.” Koropo said, “I’m gonna need some cooperation from you and your Light. It blocks the shadelings, right?”

“It blocks a shadeling from using their [Shadowblend]; yes.”

“… I’m gonna need spaces where you can keep the people I send safer than under just their own power. I'll provide the desks and paperwork and everything else.” Koropo said, “We’ll clear this backlog of shadelings and send them on their way, one way or another.”

Erick said, “Thank you, Warchief. I can imagine that this space is a rather black mark on your violent crimes records. Sorry about that.”

Koropo bowed, slightly, then said, “Archmage.”

- - - -

Soon, desks and people and papers and permissions came down to the commune. Clerks stood under [Weather Ward]s, while it rained, and shadeling orcols stood in lines, eager for clearance to leave. Back by the building, Poi’s line shrunk as people went to the desks, and the clerks. A fight could break out at any moment, but with any luck, this forced bureaucracy would happen and then everyone would go their separate ways as quickly as possible. This commune did not need to exist, and Erick would ensure its end as soon as possible.

A lot of drama happened outside of Erick’s purview, and that was fine with him. He was running on fumes. Too much magic cast too many times. He glimpsed his own soul and the damage was much worse than it had been before he started with all this awful killing and terrible justice. Ragged edges circled his body and spotty glows filled his being. By contrast, the souls of the shadelings in front of him were solid and whole, but really small and really dense, for those souls were contained to the rads in their chests.

Erick briefly checked himself over for rads with a [Cascade Imaging], cast small, and overlaid with his body, producing a map of himself right in front of himself. More than one person in the crowds looked toward him.

Blue dots glowed just below his ribcage.

Ah. Yeah. He had used too many mana potions too recently. With what was probably a bad idea, he briefly turned partially to light and ripped the nascent rads out of their current tracks to his heart. Blood spurted into his robes. He had an Ophiel immediately tap him with the rod of [Greater Treat Wounds], and the sudden pain of the moment turned transitory, then vanished.

“Ouch,” he mumbled, a delayed reaction, as he tossed the small flecks of solid magic onto the muddy ground.

A small [Cleanse] took care of the blood.