Book 8: Chapter 22: HE

Book 8: Chapter 22: HE

Ceria to Montressa: Alive. Find Pisces. Ksmvr. Yvlon. Cant tell where. Teleported. Lost. Chandrar.

Chandrar. The desert continent? How had they gotten there? Where were they?

In the hours after the [Message] reached Montressa du Valeross, she tried to contact Ceria nearly three dozen times. She notified friends and family of the Horns, and [Scrying] spells were redirected; although only a dedicated [Diviner] had the range to do a mass-search from another continent away, let alone narrow in on a single person, even with their true names.

They knew, though. Chandrar. The search began again, with hopecertainty at least one of them was alive. That was an effort of days, though. Within seconds, within hours, the Horns of Hammeradeach one of them found themselves in a nation apart.

-

Ksmvr stepped into the light. The dusty arena floor beneath his feet was scattered with fragments from past fights, however much it had been raked over, reformatted.

Detritus of fallen combatants. Sprays of torn armor. Bone bits, pieces of those who had fallen not quite cleaned away. The crowd roared as the terrified prisoners, criminals, were sent out as sport, to be destroyed for the amusement of those watching.

Was it ill-luck that he had been sent here? There were more dangerous places to be sentlike ten thousand feet straight up above the groundor below it.

Or into the sea. All things considered, Ksmvr felt lucky. Stillhe glanced down at the ground as the first gladiators entered. The prisoners screamed up at the crowd, the overseers of this arena.

Stop! Theres an Antinium-thing! Take it! Stop! Dont open the gates

Too late. No one saw him at first. Ksmvr bent. The bones of past gladiators

Bones? He saw bits of torn metal, wood, ceramics, which hed mistaken at first. The Antiniums head slowly rose. They were bones. For a unique type of

Ah. That complicates things.

The Antinium checked himself as the first Golem strode out of the waiting room to cheers from Illiveres citizens.

-

The Testings of the Golems had been a huge success, if only in the country. The Golem battles had established a champion.

Yet they continued, due to popular demand. Now, each Golem was being calibrated, from battles with each other to their intended purpose: as weapons of war.

Criminals had been procured, armed with a few weapons, to test the killing efficacy of the gladiators against them. The [Golem Artificers] loved their creations, and to test them against animals, real life enemies like prisoners as if they were [Soldiers]

It wasnt a fair fight. Of course it wasnt. The prisoners were underfed, barely had any armor on, and most werent dedicated [Warriors], just [Thieves] armed with rusted weapons.

Nsiia did not watch these Testings. She understood the mentality of the Golems creators; she just thought it was like a high-level [Warrior] bullying low-level ones to make them feel better, only with their creations as the proxy.

It was almost refreshing to see such mortal flaws in the odd culture of Illivere. So she did not watch, more pensively sunbathing on Femithains rooftop. The Crafter-Magus himself was hard at work, setting up more Domeheads now that the possibility of mass-manufacturing them existed.

Pet Golems, Sentience-class Golemsit was a good time for Golem-lovers. The Testings were just for the bloodthirsty citizens.

-

At first, they didnt even notice the Antinium standing there in the shadow of the cells. He watched, not dispassionately so much as coldly observing. Aware of the peril he was in.

The Golems came out, three of them with kill-orders in their programming. Each one was one of the gladiators.

One Golem was from Unst, squat, armed with a spear and shield. It rotated on its torso, and spat oil at the terrified [Merchant], who loosed a crossbow boltand missed. He had no idea how to properly reload it. As he tried, the oil hit him.

The man knew what was coming and tossed his crossbow aside. He ran, screamingtoo late. The magical gout of flame caught him and he turned into a flailing, wailing ball of fire which quickly fell and died.

The crowd cheered as the Golem rotated, searching for a new target. Another was using a rapier created for it, stabbing in a flurry at a [Mercenary] who tried to grimly block and rollbefore he was caught by another Golem who diced him with eight limbs of cutting blades before hammering his dead body with a club in its single, oversized limb on the other side.

These were the repaired losers of the Testings. Each one defeatedand for good reason. The Golem with the club on one side and daggers on the other was unbalanced despite the best efforts of its creators. Magical fire and the spear didnt stop the heaviest Golems like Hammera.

The rapier Golem just sucked. It had been inspired by the King of Duels, but it was fighting on a program, not with the sheer inspiration of a true fencerand it was holding a copy of a rapier, scaled up, not the precise, balanced instrument.

As Nsiia had once observed, [Golem Artificers] sometimes followed the most fun idea, not the most practical.

The crowd loved it. They had no pity for the prisoners, each one a criminal who had earned their death sentence by repeated actions or terrible ones. The Golems were their heroes, and the citizens of each respective state cheered their Golem on the hardest.

Rejects they might have been, imperfect, flawedbut three versus even seven times their number was not a fair fight. Ksmvr watched the [Bandit] fleeing the spear-wielding Golem, screaming.

Stop! The Ant

He died as the rapier-Golem sprayed him with what looked like little projectiles of some kind. Ahmagic bolts.

Observed.

Ksmvr felt pity for the prisoners who had to stay in the open as the collars forced them forwards. However, he had to see.

He was still disoriented from the spell. He still saw Yvlon. He still felt himself trying to hold onand losing her.

She had lost her arm. She needed him to help her! Ksmvr had lost an arm before. It was not fun.

He had failed them. Ksmvr had watched the Horns killed by the half-Elf. Tolveilouka. He had tried to stop the monster, but his weapons had sunk into its body.

The [Skirmisher] couldnt even touch the thing without being corrupted. He had tried to distract it, hurt it with all his artifacts and Skills and cunning.

He had failed. They had been healed, but the memory was burned into his mind.

I let go. I should have held on until my arms were torn away.

Ksmvr breathed in, and out, calmly. He would have given into that knowledge a day ago. That despair, the blame. But Ceria had told him this:

If you stay, we stay. Get it right. Never say that again.

He was their [Teammate]. Ksmvr would find them wherever they had gone. He could not die.

Yet he was in an arena, without his adventurer friends, and he was an Antinium, enemy to all. Ksmvr could have remained in the cells and taken his chances the Golems wouldnt target him without the prisoners collar, letting the rest be cut down for sport.

He could have. Should have.

Would have. However, there was something about an oversized monster slaughtering helpless people unable to fight back that bothered him. Ksmvr could have said why.

He didnt bother. As the Golem with the oversized right club-arm and scything left ones pursued a screaming man, Ksmvr walked into the light.

First: testing. [Piercing Strikes].

The Antinium jumped. The screaming man was cornered against the cell, his collar blazing with heat. He saw the Golem raise its club.

Ksmvr landed on its head. He paused, waitingbut the Golem didnt even have instructions to switch targets. Nor for if someone landed on its head. He felt a moment of disappointment.

Inferior to undead? Ksmvr lifted his shortsword. Then drove it down into the things head.

[Piercing Strikes]. He carved into the metal with the first blow. Then the second. It wasntsmoothyet Ksmvr felt his blades cut deep before slowing. The enchanted shortsword sang three times. Ksmvr struck again, and the Golem malfunctioned. It swung an arm aroundthen lurched back. He saw something glow inside and stabbed that.

The Golems Heart shattered. Ksmvr felt the huge thing collapse. He held his position as the metal giant of eight feet slowly collapsed into a kneeling position, the arms falling, the club and blades dropping from its hands.

The cheering crowd had been focused on the other two Golems, and thenthey didnt know what they were seeing. A bug-man, leaping onto the Golems head? Stabbing? Why was the Golem collapsing? Why was?

The screams of excitement caught in throats. People began to point, or stand up. One of the Golems was down!

The handlers of the Golems looked around, shocked. Every eye in the crowd fell on the Antinium calmly standing on the fallen Golems head. Ksmvr spread his arms.

Assert dominance.

He waited. An arena of stunned faces greeted him. Some people wrestled with the image. What was

Creler?

The word made some shudder. Then someone finally had it.

Antinium. The Antinium of Izril! Its an Antinium!

The scream that rose from the comprehension took even Ksmvr aback. Some of the spectators heard the dread wordand then nearly a hundred people shot to their feet and began running for the hills, screaming as if all of Rhir had suddenly opened up under their feet.

For some, just the name was terror. However, the stupefaction and confusion of the others stopped it from becoming a deadly stampede. In the arena, Ksmvr had no time to watch the reactions of the spectators.

Nor could he easily flee. Hed seen one prisoner trying to climb a wall with a climbing Skill. Despite the smooth stone theyd gotten up, only to run into a magical barrier protecting the audience from just thator shrapnel from the fights.

There was only survival. So Ksmvr was already turning as another Golem spotted him.

The Spitfire Golem waddled at him on all six legs, its cylindrical torso holding the oil it was spraying at him making it look like a deformed spider. It jabbed with the spear, with commendable accuracy, rotating to track him. A shield protected it from attacks.

It was a Golem, though. So Ksmvr just took cover behind the dead Golem as oil sprayed it and caught fire. He had a theory

The Spitfire Golem began stabbing the first ones carcass. Ksmvr peeked his head outthen hopped back as a spear tip went through the other Golems metal and nearly hit him.

Yup. The Golems had been told not to target each other, but his killing of the first one meant that the Spitfire was reading two combatants. It was stabbing at the dead Golem, spraying oil on it and Ksmvr. It rotated, edging around as Ksmvr bolted left.

[Swift Rearmament]. Ksmvr changed from the sword to one of the crossbows in his belt with commendable speed. Less than half a second to change weapons! No feeling around in the bag of holdinghe just reached down and the weapons handle was in his grip. Ksmvr rolled, and came up with the crossbow the [Merchant] had grabbed. He tsked, and reloaded it swiftly.

The Spitfire Golem was still stabbing the first Golems carcass. The handlers were shouting at it, directing it at the new threat. It finally turned, a gemstone eye glittering as it locked onto Ksmvr.

Too late. The Antinium raised two crossbows and fired.

[Piercing Strikes] plus the power of a crossbow were enough to penetrate the hard armor of the Golems torso. Hed taken careful aim; both shots hit the mark. One scored what he knew was there.

The oil reservoir. The Spitfire excreted more, and the handlers began to shout. The Golem of Unst never noticed the liquid running down its body, and the exposed oil tank. It projected a gout of flame as Ksmvr raised his magical cloak.

He didnt catch flame. It did.

The citizens of Unst wailed as, for the second time, their Golem died. This time by its own hand; it caught fire and began to melt as the magical oil ate into its body, damaging the magical commandmentsit slumped.

Design deficiencies. Ksmvr knew the Antinium werent perfect, but the Queens did a better job than whoever had made these ones. He turned.

The last Golem charged at him, rapier raised. Ksmvr raised his Forceshield, readying his shortsword and dagger. Should he use?

No. Curses and whatnot, as unlikely as it could be. Ksmvr nodded to himself. Intelligence dictated fooling the enemy. He would have to survivelike this.

It wouldnt be too hard. The Golem had a fast attack-program, but it cycled through moves. Pisces was unpredictable. Ksmvrs Forceshield hummed. The transparent edges distorted the air as Ksmvr met the attack.

Block, block, blockhe swung his shortsword and was rewarded with an impact. The Golem pressed the attack, without fatigue. Ksmvrs Forceshield trembled, and he watched the artifact. Noit was holding off the weakly-enchanted rapier. He struck again, but he was far too far from the Golem to hit it. Still, he connected.

Antinium have appeared in the Testing Grounds! Itkeep calm! It cannot defeat the proud Golems of Illivere!

One of the announcers was shouting. Control reasserted itself as the people in the arena turned. Yes! That was true! The great Golems, the gladiators, would not be defeated by a single Antinium. In fact, some of the ones who owned scrying orbs were staring down at him.

Could that be the same Antinium they had just seen?

The Antinium was retreating, just staying in range for the tip of the rapier to keep striking at it, but hed blocked every hit with the Forceshield so far, occasionally slashing. Hed lose endurance before a Golem, though. So it was just a matter of t

Snap. The sound of the rapier breaking was loud and metallic. The handlers cried out as half of the weapon justbroke on impact with Ksmvrs shield.

That was what hed been doing! Ksmvr had seen the poor excuse for a blade, enchanted, but nowhere near as flexible or strong as Pisces weapon. Hed attacked it while stressing the blade. It had snapped like the cheap thing it was.

Now, he lunged forwards. The rapier-Golem kept fighting, but it didnt realize it had half a weapon. It struck him twice by the time he carved into its torso. Then it began to stutter; he found its heart and broke it.

A groan went up from the audience. Cries of pain from the Golems beloved fans. Some of the handlers were screaming in fury, not expecting their creations to break twice so quickly.

The Golem Hearts were shattered! That was as costly as the Golems frames! The perpetrator of thisthis outrage, the unwelcome, unexpected guest, stood in the arena.

I am Ksmvr of the Horns of Hammerad. A Gold-rank adventurer of Izril. I request immediate parlay with your local governor and/or leader. I mean you no harm. I was merely defending myself from your Golems.

He paused as thousands of eyes stared down at him. This was a local broadcast in Illivere too. Ksmvr had spread his arms properly like Kevin showed him, and he debated declaring war. In the end, he decided to assert a tiny bit more dominance.

Please do not attack me. Your shoddy creations are not capable of defeating me.

That was his mistake. The fear, shock, and uncertainty turned to wrath in a second. The audience rushed back the way theyd come, and now hurled insults, even tried to throw objects down at the Antinium.

Someone tell the Magus-Crafter!

A level-headed [Official] shouted. One of the [Mages] raced to obey. He shouted, trying to restore order.

No one go down there! Confirm its the same Antiniumdo not

Too late. An enraged [Golem Artificer] had already activated another command scroll. Ksmvr turned. He reflected that he had established too much dominance, perhaps.

A Golem armed with two huge shields and a central orb stomped out of the gates. It began shooting massive bolts of magic at him as it set the spiked shields in guard mode. He began to run, taking cover.

-

Magus-Crafter Femithain was working below when the urgent summons arrived. Nsiia sat up and listened, her ears as sharp as a cats.

There is an Antinium inwhere? How did it arrive? Are you sure it is the same adventurer from theI understand identification is difficult. Is it contained?

Contained in the Testing Groundsbut it is killing Golems, Magus-Crafter! Its slain five of the contenders so far!

Femithain had to actually digest this as Nsiia swung down from the balcony in one motion. He raised his spectacles, rubbed his ears.

Killingdo you mean there are Golems in the arena?

The [Messenger] hesitated.

No, Magus-Crafter. Thethe handlers are sending them in. You see

What?

The Magus-Crafter seldom raised his voice. He did so now, looking incredulously at the [Messenger].

Do you mean to say that Illiveres Golems are attempting to murder a Gold-rank adventurer who just participated in a worldwide event?

The [Messenger] gulped as Nsiias eyes widened, realizing what was happening. Femithain was already looking around, touching his finger to his temple to send a [Message].

No, Magus-Crafter. Not exactlythe entire arena is out of control!

Restore order, now! I have summoned a Golem-coachI am on my way. Do not let the Golems kill that adventurer!

Femithain was already hurrying out of his apartments. Nsiia ran after him, and the [Messenger] tried to explain. That wasnt exactly the problem!

-

Haliclaw!Haliclaw!

The arena was rocked by cheers and shouting as the Golem, nicknamed Haliclaw, charged at the Antinium. He was bounding, always on the move, avoiding the long, slashing claws of metal attached to its arms.

It insulted Ksmvr. It had six arms, as if that made it better, and it was a whirl of blades. The people of Illivere were cheering, as it pursued the [Skirmisher] in a hit-and-run battle.

Kill it! Kill it!

The Golems handlers were watching. Ksmvr reflected that this may have been his fault. His insult had not been calculated; rather than unnerve, it had provoked.

The consequence was this: the Golem was trying to kill him. In theory, the handlers might order it to stop once it had won.

Ksmvr wasnt willing to take that risk. Like a mob of angry childrenor Golem fanatics, the crowd was now out for his blood.

It dripped onto the arenas floor, green. The audience cheered as Haliclaw scored another narrow blow, but even the enchanted metal couldnt easily destroy a carapace enhanced by [Barkskin]. Moreover, the cheering had a desperate edge. Vindictive, but also uncertain, so louder and more desperate because of it.

Ksmvr slid under the guard and slashed at last. His Flamecoat Dagger struck the whirling arms and half the Golem burst into flame. It kept coming, but the flames interrupted whatever vision it had. It began to slow, uncertain of its target.

No, no, stop

Ksmvr heard the myriad voices pleading for him to stop. He did not. He leapt onto the back of the Golem and fired three crossbows straight into the armor.

He hit the Golems heart and the creation fell. The audience screamed as if he were killing actual heroesor children. Ksmvr straightened, panting.

Seven Golems lay dead already. This last fight had taken nearly fifteen minutes. He gulped his last stamina potion and tried to raise his voice.

This is pointless. I am a Gold-rank adventureryou are in defiance of the Adventurer Guild l

The roar of anger drowned him out. Seven Golems? All killed by one Gold-rank?

This went beyond just loving Golems. This was the pride of each state of the Illivere Federation, carelessly trampled by Ksmvr. It would be one thing if a Golem did it. But a single Gold-rank?

He had to be defeated. The [Golem Artificers] in the back of the arena ignored the Magus-Crafter and other orders coming in to stop. They had to see the Antinium bleed.

-

Femithain and Nsiia clung to the coach as the Golem-horse raced across the ground at top speed. Femithain felt like he would lose his glasses if he didnt hang onto them. This was far beyond normal speed. He kept sending orders, but he was watching the broadcast.

It was local on Illiveres channels, but Nerrhavias Wonderstheir channelhad already begun to pick up on what was happening.

Someone from Wistram was hammering him with a [Message] a second. Femithain ignored it all.

I will revoke the Licenses of Creation for every [Golem Artificer] participating! Desist at once!

Too late. Femithain saw the gates open and the Antinium turn warily, sensing something.

The crowds cheering drowned out everything as Nsiia perched, eyes narrowed, looking ahead as they sped across the ground. She looked back as she heard him curse. Her heart began to beat withanger.

This was not a game. How dare they?

-

Thump.

Ksmvr heard the pounding footstep that quieted the arena for a moment. The audience held its breath. They knew what was coming next.

A clanging impact. A horrible blow to one of the walls. It was followed by a growing sound. An inhuman roar of noise.

Like the times before, the programmed showoff-cycle made the Golem strike the walls with each step as it advanced. The huge maul of a weapon glowed in Ksmvrs gaze. He saw the Golem, twice as thickly armored as the others hed killed, raise its weapon as it stepped into the light. Ksmvr muttered an oath.

Tree rot.

Hammera strode into the arena to a deafening sound. She raised her hammer overhead, then set herself. Her gaze locked on Ksmvr. He had only one second to take in the former champion of the arena before she charged.

-

Nsiia watched, sick at heart as Hammera charged. Femithain was shouting at one of the officials, cursing himself. But it was too late.

Her first programming order was a running charge followed by a two-handed blow. The same move that had killed over half her opponents in the arenamissed.

Barely. Ksmvr leapt back, but wasnt prepared for the algorithm that let Hammera reset her strike and try again. He still managed to propel himself away in time, but the crater the blow made clearly let the Antinium reconsider blocking, even with his magical shield. He switched it out and loosed an arrow with two arms.

The magical arrow burst into flames on the armor and Hammera swung her hammer around in a whirling motion, dispelling the flames. The audience was on their feet.

Femithain!

Nsiia snapped, but she knew better than to interrupt the man. She watched. This was the same Antinium from the raid, she could see it. The brave warrior who had fought with the [Prince] on the rooftop and gone into the heart of the city.

She did not know what strange road had led him here, but it was not to die at the hands of a Golem for fools! Nsiias eyes were slits, mimicking the cat in her lap. Yinah, was hissing, sensing the tension in the [Empress of Beasts].

All they could do was watch as Ksmvr fought for his life.

-

[Piercing Strikes] had their limit. Ksmvr shot his crossbows again and saw the arrows sink into the Golems metalfor all the good they did. She was too thick.

He tried to jump on her back, and nearly died. The creators had programmed her to block everything coming at her and her hammer was deadly. Every impact shook the ground around him.

I feel manifestly as if Cerias Frostmarrow Behemoth or Pisces undead might fare b

Ksmvr dove and the hammer switched directions. It hit his back, but he was already leaping so it just hurled him across the arena.

He hit a wall and the audience mocked him. Ksmvr would have liked to tune them out, but he couldnt.

Perhaps he was the foe for this after all. Only Yvlon might have survived hand-to-hand and Cerias ice walls and Pisces undead were a poor match for Hammera.

Then again, I cannot hurt it. And it will eventually strike me. Ksmvr looked around. Hed been using the other Golems as cover, but Hammera was able to even account for them.

His Flamecoat Dagger could not burn her sufficiently. His shortsword was too short and arguably too weak. His Forceshield? Ksmvr suspected it could endure one hit before needing to recharge.

What he needed was an opening to reload his crossbows. Crossbow Stans crossbows, plus his bow, plus the other ones Ksmvr had bought meant eight shots. That might be enough to pierce the armor.

Especially since he had a new Skill. However, Ksmvr had to reload and he had no t

The Antinium ducked and the hammer hit the wall where his head had been. He looked at the cracks in the stone, then the cheering Golems handlers behind the gates.

I will die and this will be a crimin

Ksmvr gave up as Hammera came at him. They werent being logical. He ran, keeping ahead of Hammera as it chased him. At least she was too slow to

Logical. Ksmvr had a sudden thought. He looked back at Hammera. At the glimmering mage-walls of the arena, forming a complete barrier hemming him in. He had no real footholds but the walls to keep jumping from.

Hammera was too fast. Too strong. Howevershe was still a Golem. An Antinium Worker was more creative than her. Ksmvr halted. He felt in his belt pouch. He was almost out of everything. A single healing potion, a quarter left, a few magical items

If hed had a single acid jar, he would have tossed that, but hed used them on the Liches. StillKsmvr found the item he was looking for and sighed.

Excellent.

The [Spiderweb] Scroll in hand, he turned. Hammera charged. Ksmvr estimated the spell might actually slow itfor about two seconds, if she didnt tear through it on momentum alone. The carved head of the female Golem was tracking him. It turned up as Ksmvr jumped.

Past the jeering faces who recoiled. Higher, higher, above the arenas participants in the lowest rowbut not too high. Ksmvr saw them recoil before they remembered the magical walls.

Well, good for them. He saw Hammeras weapon rising. Ksmvr waited until he was just over the tip of its swinging arcthen he cast the spell.

[Spiderweb]!

The magical bindings of sticky silk emerged, wrapping around its target.

Him.

The webs lashed Ksmvr to the wall and magical barrier. He was stuck, like a literal bug in a web. The audience stared. Then laughed as Hammera charged him. The weapon rose

And thudded into the wall right below Ksmvr. He saw it rise, strikeanother place right below his foot.

The Antiniums mandibles opened in a smirk. He was right!

Golems might be programmed with many attack routines, but none of the gladiators creators had anticipated an enemy might just hide. There was no jump and swing routine in Hammera.

She began to smack the wall, furiously attacking the area right below Ksmvr. He happily pulled his crossbows out and the last two enchanted bolts he carried. Lets see

Hammera! Stop! Return! Return!

The handlers realized what Ksmvr was doing too late. They shouted and Hammeras head swiveled. She began to march back to the gates as the audience shouted.

Too late.

Ironically, if the handlers hadnt recalled her, her dodge-routines might have saved her. Instead, she presented her back to Ksmvr as she marched back. He took aim, maneuvering to half-crouch in his cocoon of webs, his improvised perch.

Hello, my free levels. Goodbye. Blame your insufficient creation. [Weapon Art Aggregate Volley]!

Three crossbows fired. Even Ksmvr had no idea what would happen as the Skill activ

-

Femithain saw the Skill activate as he cried out. Hammera, glorious Hammeradidnt deserve this. It was too late. He cursed their hubris as the Antiniums weapons glowed.

Three crossbows, one per hand. All fired in a single sound. Two glowing bolts, one steel-tipped.

However, it seemed to Femithain that the image of Ksmvr firing was justtranslucent. Superimposed with another, of him firing from a slightly different angle with three more crossbows. Thenhim firing one more crossbow and aiming a bow.

Four Ksmvrs, each holding ranged weapons, loosed in unison.

[Aggregate Volley].

Eleven projectiles hit Hammera in almost the same spot in the back. [Piercing Strikes], combined with [Power Shot]. Femithain nearly covered his eyes as the single volley did what only one other force had ever done.

The impact tore open Hammeras back. Something shattered within her and the Golem froze. She dropped her hammer and fell to her knees, arms still outstretched. Like a living being, she fell, and the wail was real. The mighty Golem fell, felled by the limitations of her being. Foolishness of her masters.

The audience was speechless. The Antinium sat in his loft, reloading the last of his bolts, daring them to send another Golem at the logical loophole in their routines.

Those arrogantHammera is dead.

Femithain couldnt even finish the sentence. Nsiia, watching, breathed out. He looked at her and she shrugged.

A Golem was dead. She could be remade, better. She looked at the clever Antinium, smiling. Femithain glanced away from her.

It was done, then. He raised his head, to tell the Golem-horse to slow. He was at least relieved the Antinium lived. Femithain settled back until a horrible feeling struck him.

The audience had been weeping. Nowthe voices were picking up again. But why? Short of a ranged Golem, and Ksmvr had defeated the last Champion, there was no w

No.

Nsiias eyes opened wide. She turned her head in horror. Ksmvr, who had been relaxing in his web-hammock, looked up in confusion.

They said the name. They chanted it. The great legend of the Testing Grounds.

Femithains lips moved in horror as his creation walked forwards. Nsiia just looked on Illivere, petty Illivere. She looked at the Magus-Crafter, but he seemed helpless. She clenched her hands.

The current champion emerged as they called his name.

-

Domehead. Domehead! DOMEHEAD!

Ksmvr heard the name. He didnt understand. What was a Domeh

The Golem strode forwards. Ksmvr saw a huge, rounded head of enchanted glass holding sparkling crystals inside. An armored body.

It had no face like Hammera. It was not fully separated from the Human form, but the unique head was the difference.

Summoned by their chanting, unleashed by the wrathful [Golem Artificers], the Golem stopped. In the shadows of the entrance. The glowing lights in its brain winked on and off.

It turned slightly, and seemed to regard Ksmvr.

Regard me? The Antiniumdidnt like the way the Golem paused. He had been calm this entire time, if tense. Nowa prickle of unease ran through his body.

DOMEHEAD. KILL IT.

The greatest Golem of Illiveres Testings walked forwards. It had a huge battleaxe on one shoulder, a match for Hammeras weapon. It swung it down as it strode forwards.

Ksmvr took aim with a crossbow. He shot a steel bolt

The Golem blocked it with the flat of its weapon. Ksmvr stopped. Not even Hammera had been able to do that. Nor

Did they teach the Golem to do that?

Ksmvr checked his perch. He was well out of Domeheads reach and it didnt look like it had ranged weapons. Take your time. Let your Skills recharge. One more volley would work. Did he have to wait ten minutes? Thirty? He

Domehead slowed, and raised its battleaxe. It did not swing as it stood just below Ksmvr. He fired againit jerked, and the crossbow bolt glanced off the shining dome.

Not a scratch. It backed up, axe raised and shielding its head. It seemed to realize the issue.

Ksmvrreally didnt like that. He waited, counting his crossbow bolts. Enough for only one last volley. He had to save them. Arrows?

He was reaching for his shortbow when Domehead stooped. It picked up a broken piece of the Spitfire Golem. Then it straightened, looked at Ksmvrand threw the piece of armor at him.

Ksmvr tried to dodge, but the webs tangled him. He felt an impactand then was blown free. He hit the ground, sat upand Domehead was on him.

Silver and steel!

Ksmvr got up and his Forceshield flashed to life. He blocked the strike and lanced out; he slashed at a knee and his sword barely cut into the armor. Domehead whirled his axe down and across. Ksmvr leapt; saw the axe reverse as he landed. It wasnt a calculated program. He saw the Golems head sparkle as it saw the opening and took it.

Imp

The blow threw him across the ground. Ksmvr looked down at his torn carapace. He fumbled for a healing potion. Domehead strode over to him and swung the axe down. Ksmvr rolled and got to his feet. Now

Fighting for his life.

-

A multitude of sensations assailed him. Input. Touch, taste, soundbut he couldnt filter it. One hit him at a time.

Cheering. A roar of sound in his ears.

Pumping blood. Not in his ears, but his body. His hearts, reminding him he was alive.

Leaking. He was leaking blood.

The sound of air cutting. Thump. Vibration through the ground. Step, avoid

Too late.

Crack. The sound of his outer shell splitting. Another impact, hurling him. Pain. Hurled across the ground by a far larger force.

What did they say to describe situations like this? Like a bug hitting

A wall. Ksmvr slid down, leaving a smear of green. He looked up and ducked the axe that left a mark in the stone. Ksmvr slashed, leaving a trail of flame on the Golems body. It pivotedkicked.

Clipped him. Ksmvr bounced, rolled to his feet. The [Skirmisher] looked up. His mandibles opened, trickling blood.

Ah. This feels familiar.

This thing fought him. It didnt ignore him like the undead half-Elf had. But his bladesKsmvr looked down.

His shortsword had begun to chip. Had the magic failed in the City of the Dead? Or

His Forceshield flickered as Domehead brought the axe down in a two-handed blow. The audience groaned. Ksmvr staggered upright.

Look at it. A proper warrior. Not a Golem. Not just a Golem. There was something there. It fought with less experience than Ksmvr. But it had the reflexes, the body to triumph.

Not yet.

He whispered. Domehead whirled the axe downthen cut sideways in the actual blow. It was learning. Learning from him. It had failed to finish the [Skirmisher] in nine long minutes of fighting. BarelyKsmvr had barely leapt away, but it had learned to catch him as he fell. He survived this time by tricking it; he hopped up and before it got him, kicked off Domehead itself.

A reprieve of seconds. The Golem would never let him do that again. It was a slow learner. It picked up one trick at most each time. Thenit was never tricked again.

Enough. I surrender.

Ksmvr raised his arms, appealing to the jeering crowd. He spun; tried to roll.

The fist hit him and this time he thought his inner organs were damaged. Ksmvr slid down the wall. He looked towards the gate. The [Golem Artificers] were watching him.

Please stop.

They pointed.

Make him suffer, Domehead! Then stop!

One of them called out, her arms augmented with Golem-prosthesis instead of flesh. Ksmvr looked at them, then the Golem. A light flashed in reply. Ksmvr looked up. The First Crafter of Elbe had overridden the Magus-Crafter and she had control of Domehead with the others in this place. She would not relent until Ksmvr had paid for destroying her beloved Hammera.

The Antiniums head rose.

Very well.

Domehead charged, axe raised. A superior Golem. The beloved child of Illivere. Ksmvr had not wanted this.

You are a superlative foe. But you are stillyoung. And there is one more thing you lack.

His arms rose. The Antinium had dropped his shortsword, his Forceshield. The audiences cheers caught in their throat. The [Golem Artificers] stared. Surely notthey cried out a warning.

Ksmvrs crossbows aimed up. Domehead saw it and began to evade. However, it had been baited into the charge.

It learned one thing at a time. It never made the same mistake twice.

If it got the chance to learn.

[Aggregate Volley].

Ksmvr fired. He feltsaw himself loosing the other crossbows, the arrow. The last of his ammunition.

He hit Domehead square-on. The shriek in his ears was more than the rending metal. The audience watched as the Golem stumbled back andthe axe fell.

The Antinium had missed. Or rather, he had shot slightly off-target. The blow had eaten through Domeheads right arm, exposing the inner logic of its body. The arm hung, armor torn, unable to hold the axe!

Domeheads lightswent dark. It sagged, then stood there.

Magic circuits broken. Ksmvr had observed the flaw of Golems; if their command matrices broke. These gladiator types had them everywhere, so just one large wound did them in. Even if not, he had gotten the arm.

He sagged back, reaching for another arrow. Worst-case scenario: the audience and handlers came after him. He might have to fight his way out. If he didhed steal a healing potion. He was out. He

Saw the lights begin to flicker in the Golems crystal dome. Ksmvr stopped. He searched for another Horns-style epitaph and gave up.

This is ridiculous. I object.

The Golem was moving. Its mind was damaged. But the secondary, backup command spells began activating. Domehead rose a second time, just like before. The audience was cheering, howling. They knew.

The Golem checked the axe lying on the ground. Its damaged arm it couldnt move. Thenit raised its good arm. It made a fist.

Fffffff

Ksmvr began swearing like Ceria. The Golem walked forwards. Nowit cut the air with the one fist. It moved like

A living warrior. With all the agility and speed of the woman it had learned from. A better style for fighting an Antinium too.

Ksmvr slowly got up from where he was sitting. His shortsword and Forceshield rose. He raised the shield

The magic shattered. The impact threw him against the wall. He blocked with the flat of his shortsword.

The fist hit him in the chest anyways. His blade shattered.

Ksmvr pushed off the wall, in a jumping lunge through the legs of the Golem. He landed. His blade!

They gave me that after Albez. Because I helped.

The Antinium was muttering. Domehead whirled. Began to stride over. Ksmvr pushed himself up.

That. Was my sword.

He looked at Domehead. Reached for his bag of holding.

Missing. His belt was gone. His cape had been torn away. Ksmvr was all but naked. Bleeding.

Am I dying? He wasnt sure. Domehead paused, assessing him. The audience was cheering him.

They didnt cheer Ksmvr. The Antinium knew he was outmatched in every way. His vision was hazy. Itflickered

Then he was back in the Village of Death. In the cathedral, watching as the undead tore apart his team. Ksmvr heard his own voice.

Stop. Stop. Why do you not touch me?

Tolveilouka Vedelina Mer appeared instead of Domehead for a moment. Holding Yvlon. Pulling at her arm.

Because this hurts you.

Ksmvr saw it. He saw himself, attacking, doing nothing. He looked up at Domehead. The Golem, with its superior body.

My body is so weak. He only had a Workers body. Not even the ones of the other Hives. Thiswas not fair. Rather than being afraid, thoughKsmvr felt it rising in his chest.

He was gettingangry. Furious.

The Antinium did not hear the worried [Golem Artificers] and handlers calling for Domehead to stop. That last attack had frightened them, brought them to their senses. They did not want to murder an actual Gold-rank.

Much less someone on television. They were trying to order Domehead, use the spells to call him back.

However, his inner command spells were broken. He was running on his secondary mind.

Domehead could still hear. However, all he heard was the audiences orders.

Kill it! KILL IT.

Illiveres citizens were screaming at Domehead. So the Golem obeyed. It raised its fist, waiting, checking the Antinium as it advanced, seeing where it would dodge to.

Ksmvr didnt move. His three hands were opening and closing. Then the Antinium looked up. One of his antennae had been torn. It hung by a thread from his head. He reached uppulled it away. Looked at it. Tossed it down.

Green blood ran from his wounds. The [Skirmisher] looked up at Domehead. The Golem hesitated.

There was something off about the Antinium. Something in Domehead, a burgeoning understanding told him

Ksmvr lifted his fists. He leapt at Domehead, crashing into the Golems chest.

Domehead barely moved. However, the lights in its head flashed furiously. If it was anything, in that split second, it was confused. This was not a sensible move. So why?

It reacted instantly. The Golem swung a fist and Ksmvr dodged, kicking a knee. Then he jumpeda foot kicked Domeheads face, hitting the crystal dome so hard Domehead sensed Ksmvrs shell breaking. The Antinium grabbed hold of Domehead with one hand and punched.

His fist met the dome and his body cracked. His carapace was weaker than the enchanted glass.

Yet Domehead felt the impact. No danger. Even so, it was aware of the weakness. Domehead swung its body around. An uppercut caught Ksmvrhe lost his grip, went flying.

He landed and stood up, within seconds of falling. Domehead charged, but againthe Antinium jumped at him, rather than retreat. A bloody fist hammered Domeheads face in the exact same spot. It left green in the impact.

Domehead hammered the Antinium down. However, it didnt manage to stomp Ksmvr to paste. The Antinium whirled, leapt up. Struck at Domeheads face again.

Futile? Domehead was aware of what the Antinium was trying to do. But the odds of success were remote. It was confused by the [Skirmisher] not seeking another weapon. Not retreating. It was being damaged by the exchanges.

Yet it kept fighting. Something odd flickered in Domeheads understanding of the battle. Everything told the Golem that it was winning. Except for how the Antinium was behaving.

It was winning. How was it said again? Like a bug fighting a wall. That was the difference in their sizes and strengths. Domehead knocked Ksmvr down. Each blow sent the Antinium staggering, [Barkskin] the only thing keeping his body together.

The [Skirmisher] kept coming. He broke his fists on the same spot. He jumped, trailing blood. The enchanted crystal never so much as moved.

The Golemwas winning. With every move. Learning from the exchange of blows how to fight such a nimble enemy. Domehead could calculate victory.

If it were another Golem without the new understanding, it might have done better. For Domehead began to think. It began to know.

It began to wonder if Ksmvr could be killed. The Antinium kept getting back up. Domehead was almost certain that one full-force blow would end it. But Domehead could think.

Uncertainty formed in the Golems mind. Evenit looked at the Antinium. It was making sound. Screaming at him. What was this sensation? Domehead began to try to swing faster, more aggressively.

Then Ksmvrs bloody fist cracked the Golems head.

-

The Magus-Crafter arrived too late. Too slow, panting, the guards fighting through the press of citizens. He heard the screaming, the shouts. From the top of the arena, he looked down, far too far to reach them in time.

The Antinium had cracked Domehead. The crystal dome developed a stress-fracture from the insane Antiniums blows. The barehanded strikes

Both Antinium and Golem reeled back as Ksmvr landed on the ground. He wanted to jump again, but he stumbled. Thensat down.

He was losing consciousness. For a moment, Ksmvr just saw white, as if the sands of the Testing area had engulfed the world. His mind went clear, and he heard a voice.

[Conditions Met: H]

Ksmvrs head jerked up. He ducked a fist ready to end everything. Looked up.

Domehead stumbled backwards, the spider web crack on its crystalline dome. It was damaged! The Antinium had done this. It wasin danger. Of being destroyed.

Ofdying? Domehead processed that. The Golem realized something, as it saw the Antinium lift its fists.

No. It did not want that. Domehead wanted. Domehead was afraid. In desperation, it shielded its face as Ksmvr leapt again, screaming like a thing from the depths of Rhirs nightmares. Its arm rose.

It didnt want to die.

The blow knocked Ksmvr back onto the sands. He lay on his back shell, feeling something break that was also him. The voice was trying to speak.

[Her]

Ksmvr raised his arms. Tried to move. He rolled to his feet, hopped sideways. He was losing his strength. The second punch clipped him and he stumbled. Everything flashed.

[H]

A little voice in Ksmvrs head wondered what new level he was getting. If I lie down, I can hear what it says. He wanted to. Buthe twisted as a fist lashed the air. Domehead was lashing out, flailing, no longer mimicking a trained warrior, just swinging like a terrified child.

If he lay down, if one fist struck him, he would never know what it said. End this. Ksmvr leaned out of the way of a punch.

Domehead saw the Antinium coming, moving forwards, ducking its wild swings, looking for the moment to jump and break its head.

Kill it. The Golems attack routines were too erratic. It couldnt hit Ksmvr, not with one arm, no matter how it swung. The Golem saw the [Skirmisher] tense and realized it had opened itself up with a wide, unbalancing swing.

Weapon broken! Arm insufficient!Do not want to die! The Golem processed each fact, struggling. Searching forforan answer.

It found one. Ksmvr saw the Golems body twist. The arm, swinging widehe was only focused on it. Ksmvr saw a foot rise and had a flash of thought.

It did not know how to kick, though

The kick was a copy of Ksmvrs. A fast blow. Not a punch.

Ksmvr staggered and heard a crunch. Something hit him in the leg. He began to jump to end this.

Hecould not. Ksmvr tried again, but now he was swaying. Falling over. Why?

The Antinium looked down. His right leg was bent inwards. The Golem had kicked him.

No.

Ksmvr fell down. He fought to rise, scrabbling at the ground with his three hands, to push himself up. Balance on one leg.

He saw a foot in front of him and looked up. The armored body, the Golem made of metalDomehead, stood over him, intact arm raised.

The Antinium went still. His flickering mind became clear again. He realized he was out of time. He looked up and saw Domehead. It had fought like a person. Did ithave a mind?

They had fought, two warriors created by the greatest minds of their people. Two machines, designed to improve. Learning to improve themselves.

The younger one looked down on the older. The Antinium stared up, mandibles moving without making actual sound. Ksmvr felta bit bitter.

If hed had one more weapon. Two more levels

More time. A second to sleep. Ksmvr looked up and stared into the flashing crystals of the Golems face. He murmured, from one learning machine to another. Was this what Ksmvr had been like, before he met the Horns?

Well done.

The shadow fell over his head. Ksmvr waited, staring up at those beautiful lights.

-

The audience of Illivere saw the end of the duel and screamed their triumph. Only a few realized the implications of what was happening. Now, [Golem Artificers] were trying to enter the Testing Grounds themselves, to deactivate Domehead before it was too late.

Too late. They should have stopped it before it even began. A voice filled with anger and frustration screamed from halfway down the stadiums seating. He cried out to his creation, but his voice was lost amid the thunder of voices.

Stop!

Magus-Crafter Femithain bellowed at Domehead. He was too far away, though, and even as he fought to shove oblivious citizens aside, they knocked him backwards, not caring who he was, only intent on watching. Femithain lifted his wandand lowered it, realizing hed been about to attack his own citizens! He ground his teeth, furious, but unable to fight forwards. He was no [Warrior].

She was.

A figure burst through a throng of people pressed together, on their feet, pushing to see. A [Warrior]a womanan [Empress] leapt, knocking citizens of Illivere aside with wild strength.

Nsiia of Tiqr. Like a beast herself, she leapt, from all fours to two legs, knocking people aside, using the arenas seats and even the crowd to launch herself closer. Femithain saw her approaching the glittering magical boundary of the Testing Grounds. She wouldnt make it through, though. Not without

The Magus-Crafter touched a bracelet hanging from his wrist, and one of the runes attached to it flashed. The [Empress of Beasts] saw the magic fade and leapt.

Nsiia landed in the arena as the Antinium fell. Domehead was striding forwards, raising its arm.

Domehead! Enough!

The [Empress of Beasts] shouted, raising her hand. She began to run forwards, and the Golem whirled.

Domeheads arm raised to attack the second combatantthen it recognized Nsiia. It hesitated, recalling other commands made by its creator.

Nsiia. Protect. Observe. Learn.

She had taught it how to use its hands. Domehead did not attack her. It turned back to Ksmvr. The shouting from the crowd hadnt died down, and it echoed Domeheads simple thoughts.

Kill it.

It did not see the Antinium looking up at it, unable to dodge. All Domehead saw was danger. Death. Destruction!

Domehead, stand down! The Antinium can no longer fight! He is an adventurer! Enough!

Nsiia shouted. She saw something on the ground and snatched it up as she ran, skidding in front of Ksmvr and Domehead. The Golem ignored her, raising its arm for a blow until it saw the [Empress] standing there.

Femithains breath caught suddenly. He saw Nsiia raising her arms, blocking the Golem as it raised its arm. She was holding something. Snatched from where it had fallen.

Domeheads axe. The [Empress] lifted it with an [Elephants Strength]. Putting herself between the wounded Antinium and the Golem. The cheering, the blood-crazed demands for death, hesitated as the people saw the Empress of Beasts holding the axe.

She was facing down the damaged Golem. It was hesitating, between the threat and her. It tried to strike past Nsiia and she raised the axe, pivoting to shield the prone Antinium. The woman looked up as Domeheads arm stoppedthen rose once more.

Protect Nsiia. Kill the Antinium.

Two thoughts warred in Domeheads mind. It did not understand what she was doing. It was afraid. Domehead registered a threat. The Empress was holding an axe. Its axe. But she would not attack. She was designated as

Do not do this, Domehead. I will do what I must.

Threat? The Golem looked down at her. It saw the Antinium stir. Domehead lifted its arm. The Antinium had to die or it would.

Nsiia! Stop!

Femithain was fighting down towards her. The First Crafter of Elbe, the other citizens realized what she was planning on doing. They began to shriek at Nsiia too.

Stop! Do not hurt Domehead! Stop!

The Empress of Tiqrs head slowly rotated, taking in the arena, the distant Magus-Crafterthe [Golem Artificers] rushing into the arena. She looked up at the terrified Golem. The First Crafter of Elbe.

All of this, and all their eyes on the precious Golem. None forshe looked down at the Antinium. Was he smiling?

Well done.

Ksmvr murmured again. In front of her, Domehead raised its arm. Nsiia looked up. Her arm rose as the Golems fell.

The Testing Grounds were filled with a shriek. Shouting. Gasps. A single memory burned into Femithains eyes as Nsiia saw Domehead charging, swinging its arm down.

The axe rose. He was throwing himself forwards, disbelieving even as he saw. She couldnt be intending? The sheer madness of itnot Domehead! Not the first

The same woman who would crush a Golem for a cat stood in front of the valiant, wounded warrior. She cared not for his species, and took careful aim as her weapon rose.

Domehead brought its arm down. Nsiia swung the axe first. She never looked away from the Golem. Domehead did not understand. It beheld her sadly smiling fac

The axe smashed the crystal dome. Ksmvr saw it break the delicate crystals. Shatter Domeheads

A spray of crystal and metal landed around the Testing Arena. Some shards cut open the Golem handlers, wounding one badly enough to send her to the ground. The rest just stood, paralyzed, slowing to a halt. Falling to their knees.

Femithain fell down. He lost strength; slid down the steps. As if his strings had been cut. He saw Domehead lying there. The audience stood, unable to believe what they had seen.

Domehead stood there, swaying, as the magical lights shone. Thenit fell forwards. The first Sentient-class Golem collapsed without a sound, armor broken. Head shattered.

In the new silence, Nsiia bowed her head for a moment, standing over the fallen creation. Then, the [Empress of Beasts] turned to the living. She tossed the axe aside and bent.

The sands had turned green with blood. She uncorked a healing potion, reached out, fingers hesitating to touch the alien skinthe smooth carapace. She looked into the lidless, multi-faceted eyes, astonished by his appearance up close. Then she spoke, as she offered him the potion.

Brave warrior. Adventurer. Are you alright?

A trembling hand took the potion. Thenthe [Skirmisher] felt his body healing. Death receding. His head rose, and there she was.

Sorry! Im paying attention! What are we doing?

Califor glared. Irked by Erins naturalokay, deliberatesilliness. However, it seemed her fellow witches were up to the challenge of teaching the [Innkeeper]. Perhaps that was why these two had come.

The ashy Somillunelaughed. Parts of her body flaked away and reformed. Beneath the hat and shadows from which dozens of eyes blinked, Vexcla revealed a pointed smile.

Erin looked at them. This was the height of witchcraft, perhaps the inevitable result of pursuing their magic. They werent Gazer oror whomever Somillune had been. They were more like ideas.

Fire and vision.

She just wasnt sure if she wanted to bethat. Erin had agreed to take lessons because they were right. She was just nervous.

Sorry! Im not meaning to goof off. I justokay, that was on purpose. Im listening. Whats my first lesson in being an amazing [Witch]?

She sat down, facing the three. Califor sighed as the [Innkeeper] visibly tried to look and be attentive. That was what the [Witches] saw. The woman opened her mouthand Vexcla nudged her. Califor fell silent and the Witch of Ashes raised her head.

Somillune spoke.

We know you are nervous, Erin Solstice. That part of you does not want to learn. Your stubbornness, ah, but even a great [Witch] would have trouble with you.

She smiled and Erin grinned despite herself, a bit guiltily. The woman went on.

You have told us your story. From your life on Earth till now. Goblins and inns. Loss and sacrifice and triumph. Fire.

Are you going to teach me new flames?

Erin sat up. The [Witch] tilted her head.

Perhaps. But first: witchcraft. To learn our class, you must know your craft. You understand the basics of what a [Witch] is.

The young woman nodded dubiously. Craft and the power of emotions. Which might be her thing? Potions too.

How do I do that? I meanwhats my first step? I cant level or use Skills here, but

Hush.

Erin fell still, but her leg jiggled, even though her body was elsewhere. She was nervous. She didnt know if she could be what they wanted. Somillune met her gaze.

You told us of many moments in your life, Erin Solstice. I ask you to remember one. As vividly as when you told it. No matter the pain. When you held the boy, the Goblin who followed you against the Goblin Lord, Reiss.

Headscratcher.

Suddenly, Erins levity was gone. She thought of her dear friend. The brave Goblin. Whispering

The witches looked at an [Innkeeper], blood smeared on her face, holding a Hobgoblin lying on the ground. The blood almost looked like the war paint on Headscratchers body. He was grinning. She leaned down.

But she never heard what he whispered. No matter how many times she

Erin Solstice looked up, holding nothing. Tears in her eyes. Memoryin this place, it was just a thought away. Somillune looked down at her. Her eyes were embers in dying ash.

Not unkind. They saw Erin, even now. Even after so much about her had changed.

I dont know what he said. Will magic help me know? Mymy craft?

Erin swallowed. The [Witch] shook her head.

Perhaps you may never know. You will grow and age if you live, Erin Solstice. You will forget that moment.

I will never

You will forget. Not him. But the feeling of the grass upon which you kneel. How you held him. How you sat. Each moment of forgetting will hurt. Yet he will never leave you.

The Witch of Ashes stood, and she was taller now. A giant, pointing down at Erin. Her voice was no louder, but it filled the world like the whisper of dust.

That question will follow you to your grave. If you cared. The guilt will tear you apart some nights. You will weep for that boy. Wonder what might have been. You may forget him for hours, days, weeks, months, years. But you will remember him.

The young woman looked up at the witch and knew it was true. Simply true. Even if she was old and grayhow could she forget her friend? She did not want it to be, but she feared she would forget.

So. Then. Knowing this, and if you couldwould you ever forget? Erase the pain? Take a balm to soothe your mind? Free yourself of that burden?

Vexcla leaned forwards. The shadows under the brim of her hat revealed the many eyes of different colors, blinking, shifting, each one watching Erin. Califor as well, a hand on the brim of her hat. They looked at her, all three.

The [Innkeeper] looked up. She rubbed at her eyes.

What? No. Never. Why would you even ask that?

She grew angry, just thinking about it. Forget Headscratcher? She met Vexclas gaze, angry. Clenching her hands. The [Witch] saw the [Innkeeper]s eyes flash.

She smiled. It was a broad, sharp smile that spread within the darkness. Somillune smiled too. The Witch of Ash sat back down, her dress glowing like embers. She raised her hat, revealing paler strands of hair.

Then, Erin Solstice. You are a [Witch]. Remember that moment. Know your craft.

Somillune pointed down at Erin. The [Innkeeper] blinked up at her. Vexcla laughed. Without a word she rose and began walking down the hill.

We are done.

Witch Vexcla! Witch Somillune, you cant be serious!

Califor rose to her feet. She gestured at Erin, who was as bewildered as she was. The [Witch] turned to the Witch of Ash.

What of establishing exactly what her craft is? Teaching her the fundamentals of magic?

Two ember-eyes met Califors vexed stare equally.

Witch Califor. We respect your craft and talent. You have taught many witches, I have no doubt. But remember: we are the [Witches] of our eras. Perhaps we see this student more clearly than you.

She looked at Erin. The [Innkeeper] raised a hand.

But Im willing to learn! I am! I need to find my craft, right? Dont I need to at least figure out if Im happiness or silliness or something? Oroh no. Im loss. Pain? I dont want to be that!

She began to panic. Somillune laughed.

You are not any of those, Erin Solstice. Unless you choose to be. We have not found your craft, as Califor says. That is why she objects. But think: you know what it is to be a [Witch]. Is there anything else you truly need?

The [Witch] looked from Califor to Erin. She addressed Califor.

What could we teach her, the nuance of every craft? Have we time? When she wakes, if she remembersshe need only pursue the core of what we are. She will find herself. That is enough. This is what magic is made from, Erin Solstice. Do you understand?

Erin thought of Headscratcher. Holding himher voice trembled.

Not exactly. Can you say it anotheranother way?

Somillune nodded.

Remember. Simply remember every frustration, every cruelty and injustice and wrong.

She gestured, and Erin saw the heads of two Goblins held in a grinning Drakes claw. A dying Antinium stabbed by countless daggers, shielding her. Stared down at her open palm, slashed by a knife.

The witch spoke again, interrupting the thoughts that could pour over her in the dark of night. At bad times, in bad places.

Now, remember when you smiled. Your triumphs, your love and laughter. Each second you breathed in and knew: I am alive. That is the root of your craft. Each witch merely finds a different focus. A different question for the same answer.

Erin blinked. Was it that simple? Califor looked like she wanted to object.

There isnuance, Witch Somillune. Practice. She has none of those things.

The Witch of Ash shrugged.

How will we teach her? With magic that is as dead as we are? I say to you, Witch Califorlook back. The first [Witches] had no guidance. They discovered themselves. Give Erin Solstice no rules. Teach her no lengthy lessons; does she take to it? Let her be and grow without a roof in her mind.

Califor went silent. Erin looked at Somillune.

Justfeelings? Memory? Is it really that easy?

A voice laughed in her ear. Erin jumped and realized Vexcla had come back. The Witch of Eyes looked at her, amused.

Did you think it was something truly secret that no one could do? The root of things is simple. You will find depths beyond your imagining if you follow this path. But think: magic as [Mages] do it is just remembering the correct way something is and putting a bit of power in it. An incantation is just words in the right order and tone. A sigil is a drawing.

Wow. Magic sounds cheap.

The two older witches laughed at that. Really laughed, without restraint or even trying to keep themselves upright. Vexcla grinned at Erin again.

It may. But tell me. What is stronger in you than your memory of when you held Headscratcher? Is there anything more powerful? Anything that will last longer?

The [Innkeeper] shook her head. Vexcla smiled and nodded.

That is our magic. Transitory. Temporary. Memory and emotion, which disappear and change. It is not the strength of [Mages], which adds to itself. It wanes; like the Gnolls and [Shamans], our power has been lost as the greatness of this world fades. With each species that passes, each kingdom that falls, all fades away.

We would not have it any other way.

Somillune nodded. Califor looked at the two older [Witches], astounded. Perhaps that was the difference between them. Erin turned to Vexcla, as the Witch of Eyes raised one curious hand, like Gazis.

The first [Witch] to exist found her craft because she had to. Because it gave purpose to feeling! Her suffering, her glorythat became the root of her magic. That is why we devoted our lives to it. Because it mattered. There are some things that cannot be forgotten. That a lifetime is changed by. You are one of us. So: our work is done. Your next lesson awaits.

She pointed down the hill. Confused, Erin looked at Califor. Then she stood up.

To be a [Witch] sounded a lot likespirituality to her. Or an understanding so broad that anyone could be a [Witch]. But both sounded so knowing. Did they really know how to teach her?

Perhaps the Dynasty of Khelt wondered, because one of the ghosts who had been not-quite-eavesdropping floated forwards as Erin descended the hill. She saw the ghosts of Chandrar waiting. But the [Witch] whom she was walking towards was noticeable, even among them.

A Treant or Dryad orErin waved up at her and the woman turned.

AH. YOU UNDERSTAND CRAFT, NOW, ERIN SOLSTICE?

Her voice boomed; Erin had forgotten how the gigantic witch spoke. She shouted back, raising her voice.

S-sort of? It was a fast lesson.

The witch nodded amiably.

A LESSON FOR THOSE OF US WHO HAVE HOURS MORE TO EXISTOR PERHAPS AGES. TIME ENOUGH TO TEACH YOU MORE IF WE ARE NOT ALL CONSUMED SCREAMING INTO THE VOID SOON.

The [Innkeeper] opened her mouth.

Um. Yes. Thats a great point.

I KNOW.

The two looked at each other. Erin fidgeted beneath the too-calm stare.

Soso whats my next lesson? Fire? How to brew an uh invisibilityno, wait. A super-strength potion?

The Witch of Trees raised her leafy limbs in a kind of shrug.

NEITHER. WE ARE HERE TO MAKE YOU STRONGER. SOHERE IS YOUR LESSON. WE HAVE CHOSEN A HUNDRED, THE FOUR OF US. PICK ONE.

Pick one? One wh

Erin Solstice turned her head. Then she realized: the ghosts of Chandrar, milling about, had pulled a bit back from this spot, like her first lesson, to give her room. Onlythere were some close by.

Ghosts. A hundred of them. The four [Witches] stood nearby, some sitting, others standing. Looking at her. They were all looking at her.

Waitingthe [Innkeeper] saw familiar faces among the people there. A [Sage], what looked like a [Queen], a glowing Djinnishe looked at the Witch of Trees, whose name she could not pronounce.

Wait. What do you mean?

TALK TO THEM. EACH ONE HAS AGREED TO TELL YOU THEIR STORIES.

Justtalk to them? Oh, come on! What about a poti

The [Witch] bent down and stared at Erin with two bright eyes amid the ancient wood of her face. Erin broke off, gulped.

A POTION? WHAT GOOD IS A POTION, GIRL? TELL ME SOMETHING. ARE YOU AN [INNKEEPER] OR NOT?

I

A gnarled finger tapped her in the chest.

WE WOULD HAVE YOU BE A [WITCH]. YET YOUR CLASS MATTERS AS WELL. WHEN WE SPOKE TO THE FIRST OF KHELT, WE PROMISED TO AID YOU IN BOTH. THIS IS A BOON UNMATCHED. GREATER THAN A RECIPE FOR A POTION. LOOK. THE GHOSTS OF ALL OF CHANDRAR STAND BEFORE YOU AND YOU WISH TO LEARN HOW TO BREW A POTION?

Her voice shook the ground. Erin stuttered.

I justI thought it would be useful

The Witch of Trees was less kind than the other two [Witches]. Her reply was rather like a branch, or an apple hitting Erin on the head.

DID YOU THINK YOUR POWER WAS IN LEARNING HOW TO SWING A SWORD? CAST A SPELL? IF IT WERE SO, BETTER YOU HAD LIVED AND APPRENTICED YOURSELF TO A [SWORD SAGE] FOR A CENTURY, AND MADE USE OF SOME ANCIENT RITUAL.

She poked Erin again with a branch-finger.

THIS IS POWER. THIS IS THE STRENGTH YOU POSSESS. ASK THEM. LISTEN TO THEIR STORIES.

With that, she turned and strode away. Erin was left standing in front of the ghosts of the world. Califor, on the hill, saw the old [Witch] coming her way.

You may disagree with us, Witch Califor. But we did think on how best to use fleeting time.

With this?

Vexcla grinned.

With this. She is a clever girl. She would have come to this by herself, I think. But we have moved it ahead of her wasting time and given her the hint any [Witch] needs. Nowlet us see if she finds the true worth in this.

Below her, Erin Solstice had stopped dithering, and, pressured by all the stares and waiting hundred ghosts and [Witches]timidly called out to one of the ones closest to her. The four [Witches] on the hill watched as Erin sat down and listened.

-

The man had a robe likewell, someone had attached a king-sized bed sheet to his back. That was an uncharitable way of putting it. Put another way, Erin saw the cloak of many substances forming a single garment. He was the flashy person shed seen before, who looked like liquid mercury had become cloth in one part, a strange animals green-furred hide in another.

It reminded her of Rabbiteaters Cloak of Plenty, so that was one of the reasons shed chosen him. He sat with her on the ground, and Erin saw his hands had magical rings on each finger. Earrings of magic dangled from each ear, and she wondered what he might have carried; a staff or something if he had kept that possession in death.

Um. H-hi. How are you doing? I uhwhat are you supposed to be doing? Are we chatting? Is this a date?

The man smiled as the [Innkeeper] stuttered. He did not have a preamble; he just spoke, quickly, but measured enough that each word was clear.

The [Witches] of old asked me to tell you who I was. That it might help you, [Innkeeper] Erin Solstice. That is why we are here. I am honored to be chosen. So: I was the [Sage] who invented Sages Grass, as it seems the world now calls it. More recent than many of my class. Older it seems, the more time passes.

He smiled at her. Erins jaw dropped.

Wait. Yourethe guy? The Sages Grass guy? I have some growing in my garden! Youre famous!

The [Sage] blinked.

In your garden? Then it has grown that common? When I first invented it, by marrying magic to plants to create a plant which could create mana just by existingit was the rarest thing in the world. A [Witch] of my time traded me a fortune of fortunes just for a few seeds.

Erin blinked.

Well, its not common but itssort of? Its expensive as heck.

Ah. By which you mean it is acquirable with mere coinage? Again, when it was first invented, a single leaf was more than any common citizen could afford. Rightly so, for with it one could brew powerful potions and cast uncommon spells. I am told that since my death, it allowed healing potions to be more common.

He just sat there, the [Sage] of Sages Grasstalking to her. Erin looked around to make sure she wasnt being pranked. She got what the [Witches] meant, though. She tried to explain.

Well, maybe it did. Because healing potions are likeeveryone has one. Not a great one, but one. I have like, fifty two in my inn. I could have used more antidotes. Thats a mistake.

A common one. If I may advisemany [Sages] and [Alchemists] died from poison in the air. A ring to detect such things was commonplace. See? Ah

He tried to take off a ring on his hand, but it vanished and reformed. The [Sage] shrugged regretfully.

If that knowledge helps, I would be grateful. The [Witches] told me not to think of such lessons, but more to tell you who I was, though. So I shall speak. In life, I would not have been asaccepting. Healing potions in my time were rare, you see. They could close a wound in an instant, which I suppose means little to you, although it seems the power to regrow limbs is lost.

Whyou could do that?

A raised brow.

If you had a potion, which only royalty or the richest could afford, of course. Adventurers and warriors made do with other tricks. One used to be a blood stoppage spell. However, I made my fortune selling Sages Grass and the products it created to the wealthy. I was the richest of my time. Famed. They knew me as the Sage of a Hundred Thousand Secrets, for I knew the value and wealth in everything, from blades of grass to blood and water.

Erin Solstice listened, as the man talked. She saw he looked the part for a [Sage] of legends. His long, flowing beard had turned pale white, and his features were lined, although some draught had kept him youthful.

-

Youth, immortality, and of course, turning lead to gold. That was the dream of [Alchemists], wise-men, and of course, [Sages].

Few realized even one of those dreams, even in part. This man? Born of Chandrar, a boy who learned how to combine some magical mold and other elements that grew around the alchemists city he grew up in when he was nine, had done all three things.

Hell, he mastered the art of lead to gold by the time he was fourteen, which wasnt actually that impressive. He became an [Alchemist]s apprentice, in a true rags-to-riches talealthough all the [Alchemists] of the time grew rich on the lead to gold formula.

Which promptly caused the worst recession in history as gold became worthless. However, the young man leveled in his class, going from [Alchemist] to a study of more than pills and tonics.

To be a [Sage] was to be a master in many forms of knowledge. More than a jack-of-trades. He studied the body because potions interacted with itand from that divined more secrets. The world was connected! Thus, the boy became a man, a [Sage] who soon learned one of the secrets of prolonging the body. Even bottling a Skill into a tincture!

As he grew, he gained rivals, but none would match him when he used simple herbology combined with the magical powers worthy of an [Archmage] to create a plant that consumed little more than grass, but produced magic!

With this, he had a creation that rivaled Unicorns and Dragons; a nigh-infinite source of mana. After that came riches beyond imagining. The secrets of immortality, purchased from Drath, Dragons lairs, and so on.

Over six hundred years, the Sage of a Hundred Thousand Secrets lived, growing wealthier and more powerful. He might have lived for thousands of years, but for what Sages Grass attracted. It was not a glamorous death, or even a great one; monsters and treasure seekers forced him into hiding, but it was a simple dagger to the back which killed him. An [Assassin], dispatched to end his monopoly on the Sages Grass itself.

Ironically, the daggers poison had no effect. And somewhat unfortunately, it meant that a dagger to the back was the end of the great Sage of a Hundred Thousand Secrets. It was a dagger to the back several dozen times that did it. He died in his hidden home, lungs filling with blood, reaching for one of the countless treasures or vials that could have saved him.

-

The Sage of a Hundred Thousand Secrets did not prolong his story. In fact, Erin got the sense he had truncated it. He had a lesson in his story, too.

A [Sage] should not have been so petty. I mastered all kinds of knowledge. I acquired power that few ever touched. However, I failed my class. I should have learned wisdom first. You hear of my hubris, how I chased wealth before friendship and anything else. I caution you: do not let that happen.

Erin nodded.

I wont.

She tried not to say that it wasnt that likely because Erin never had a thousand gold pieces at any one time and this guy had tossed thousands of gold pieces down every time he tripped or something. Perhaps the [Sage] saw that in her because he smiled.

Not an [Innkeeper]s problem, I suspect. Yet it is the only story I can tell. I do not know what the [Witches] soughtbut I hope it helps.

Erin stumbled to reassure him, as sad as he looked.

It does! Totally! Its amazing to meet you! I know of your creation, of course. Umthey called youwait, what was your name? I dont know the Sage of a Hundred Thousandbut maybe you have a name? Octavia would know it, but shes not here. I hope.

Erin saw the man smile ruefully and raise a hand. He glanced to one side and Erin noticed something peculiar. Among the ghosts keeping her company, Gerial being one of them, the hundred ghosts had replaced the [Sage]. Exactly one ghost had joined their number, gestured to by the [Witches].

They wanted her to listen to another one. And to help them, Gerial wasdoing his part. He was deliberately, slowly, and excruciatingly counting to ten thousand.

Apparently that was how long each ghost had, and the [Sage] was aware of it. He lifted a handGerial was muttering.

Nine thousand nine hundred and three, nine thousand nine hundred and four

It struck Erin as something that was downright evil for the [Witches] to make him do. Even poor Sisyphus or whomever the boulder-guy was in Greek legends didnt have to count and start over. But Gerial was determined to do his part.

The [Sage] rose to his feet.

I would rather, Erin, that my name be forgotten. As my story showsI was not worthy of my class. Thank you for asking me my story. I believe you must continue, though.

He stepped away. Erin raised a hand, then let it fall as she saw one of the [Witches] look at her. Confusednot sure if she had gained much from the story, but feeling bad for the manshe looked around and pointed at random.

She realized shed pointed at a Stitch-Womanher body wonderfully vivid, like a half-Elfs but torn with her death-wounds. Even the other Stitchfolk looked in awe of her and Erin was curious to know her story.

But she wondered, as she stood up to introduce herself, what the [Witches] wanted her to get from this. Just stories?

-

Like the first speaker, the second ghost did not waste time, having been told what to do. She leaned forwards, and showed Erin how she died.

Someone had blasted her apart. Literally. If she let ittwo thirds of her head was gone, revealing ragged string and flesh and bone. As well as most of her chest.

However, if she willed it, she was also a beautiful, if war-scarred woman. For a String Person, that meant she was clearly repaired in places, sewn up, rather than scarred. She didntlook like a warrior like Relc.

That was to say, her build didnt suggest that. She looked like she would be more suited dancing on a stage, like some celebrity-actress.

Her eyes told another story. They were like Gazis, like Halracs. Erin had met warriors and this woman was one to the core. She also belonged in the company of the [Sage] and [Witches]. Or ratherthey belonged in her company.

I was called the Rebel of String. Do you know why?

Erin Solstice blinked. The Stitch-woman smiled.

Because I was the first String Person in the world to rebel. Back before the [Sage]s time. Long before. When we were Cloth Golems. When we killed the Threadmakers; our creators. I was there. When we became a people, not renegade things and every nation had to acknowledge our beating heartsI was there.

The [Innkeeper]s jaw dropped. She looked around, then got up.

Am II dont knowam I supposed to bow or something? Wait, this is huge, right? Youre super important? Youre so important I dont know how important you are!

She looked around, and the String People ghosts nodded. For that matter, some of the ghosts, especially royalty, were eying the Rebel of Stringand not all with friendly gazes. She had sent more than a few to their graves in her time.

String People had once been Cloth Golems? Erin sat back down and the woman explained: yes, they had been.

Elucina. That is my name. The one I chose. We had different names. We wereGolems. Thats the name for us. I understand there were once Golems of pottery, who rebelled. Well, in my time, the Threadmakers, the greatest [Mages] and [Weavers], decided cloth was better. They wove us more intelligent with each generation, until we began to think too much. Then we rebelled.

Whatwhat happened?

Elucina looked at Erin. She grinned.

Have you never heard the story of [Slaves]? What do you think happened?

-

Blood and death. Pleas for freedom, ignored, until the creators hands turned against their creations, imposing harsher means of enforcing control.

The String Folk had been a truer kind of accident than Truestone. Their creators had known the lessons of oldnot well enough, but they had heeded them.

They wanted servants, perfect servants. A mind was the problem, and at first they had had great success by deliberately refraining from giving the Cloth Golems too much of a mind. However, over countless amounts of time, as more and more Cloth Golems were made, something happened.

Even their limited intelligence, form over functional minds drew together. It wasa tangle of string. A kind of collective growth.

The first lifestring, the very root of what made String Peoplepeopleemerged in Cloth Golems. The Threadmakers thought of it like a plague, a parasite of consciousness. They tried to weed it out, stop the Golems from rebelling. Then they chased down the first dissidents, trying to kill themthen negotiate, cling to their power, as the desperate first Stitch-folk fought for freedom, unwilling to take anything but freedom.

It took centuries. Wars as other nations refused to let this new species be. They had allies. Peoples who recognized themin those days, the Jinn and their Djinni kin took up arms for the String Folk, which would one day lead to their downfall for the enemies they made. Countless Stitchfolk died, but when it ended, they were a people who now took parts of Chandrar as their home.

Weak to fire, but fearless of blades. String Folk. From the day the first of them asked to be freed, to the day they became a people

She was there.

-

The Rebel of String, Elucina, had been a [Rebel]. But she had not stayed one forever, though her class took her into Level 60 on that alone. After that though, she became a simpler class.

A [Hero].

I was not the first, true Rebel of String, either, Erin Solstice. I hoped you would choose me, so I could tell you that. Many can tell stories like mine. But I wished to tell you: I was not the first.

Elucina sipped from the lemonade Erin had offered her. The [Sage] had refused when Erin offered her one gift to the ghosts. She smiled, looking relaxedbut never truly relaxed.

She had lived for centuriesno, over two thousand yearsand even now, she sat as if she were just resting. Waiting for the next war. Yet she was kind and friendly. Erin was breathless, listening to her tale.

You werent? Who was, um, Miss Elucina?

She tried to be respectful, and it was an effort she made for few, even among the dead. The String Woman seemed to appreciate it. She sighed and put the drink down, where it vanished.

I was the eighteenth. The others who came before me were braver. Stronger. The firstwhose name was Destrehad the will to break every spell and command and call our burgeoning souls to cry out for mercy from our creators. And then, when they turned to wrath and fear, fight for our freedom.

Erin listened as the Rebel of String told her about them. Naming all seventeen. She tried to commit their names to memorybefore Elucinas time ran out.

She was the Rebel of String, but the [Witches] insisted and Elucina didnt argue. She just rose, smiling.

I hope it has given you something, brave [Innkeeper]. We fight a foe like the Threadmakers nowand they stand among us.

She gave a Garuda standing in the crowd a flat look, which was returned. Yet Elucina turned back to Erin and sighed.

A foe so great, all must stand with old foes or riska slavery of forever, perhaps. I do not know. I stand with all ghosts. With my people.

The [Hero of String] glanced at the Threadmaker Garuda again and whispered to Erin.

And as far away from them as possible.

Erin smiled at her.

Thank you for telling me. Its an honor. Itsyeah.

I hope it helps.

With that, the woman stepped into the sea of ghosts. Erin watched her go, and saw the other hundred stand or move forwards, waiting. Some looked hungry for their stories to be told, others content to wait.

She stood there, thinking. I hope it helps. Was the story enough? It was certainly one of the stories to tell. If Erin was a [Storyteller]

She wasnt, though. Nor someone like Barelle the [Bard]. Erin recalled meeting him. This would help him without a doubt. Her, though?

Something was missing. Erin glanced at one of the witches, and hesitated. What was missing? She met the eyes of one of the [Witches], who smiled at her. They were a tricky lot. Erin Solstice thought.

What was she supposed to learn here?

-

There were so many things that could happen. Califors hands were knitted together so tightly that but for her lack of flesh, she would have harmed herself.

The last coven of dead witches watched Erin Solstice hesitate after the second ghost. Had she figured it out? Califor herself didnt know what Somillune and the others wanted Erin to learn.

She suspectedbut their craft ran deep. They were [Witches] who had become archetypes of their kind, so close to magic and craft that they were like Belavierr. Some had even been feared for what they did in their time. They were beyond her in every way

But [Witches] were [Witches]. Califor refused to ask. Also, they loved lessons like these, where you ended up teaching yourself. So the [Witch] waited. She saw Erin pointing uncertainly at a floating Djinni. A good choice; she had to learn their history, as much as the Rebel of String. If anything, the Sage of a Hundred Thousand Secrets had been the weak choice.

However, Erin Solstice hesitated as the Djinni floated over, smiling and shifting to look like a Human like her, only male. She held up a hand and turned to one of the [Witches]. The Drowned Witch.

Hold on. Can I get a second?

-

A second?

The Drowned Witch, Barsoijou, growled at Erin. She looked offended by the question. The [Innkeeper] nodded, a touch uncertainly.

Something was wrong. She felt it.

I just need a second. Cant we stop the count? Gerial?

The man broke off from his laborious counting to ten thousand with relief. The Drowned Witch glared so hard he began again, hurriedly speeding up.

The six could overrun Chandrar for all its protections and end this faade of peace, girl. Each second you waste arguing is a second lost! Here stand before you a hundred legends and myths from the whole of Chandrars time! And you would waste more time on a single one?

All the witches were so mean. Erin huffed, and put her hands on her hips.

Look, I know youre right!

The Drowned Witch hesitated, mouth open. She hadnt expected Erin to say that. The [Innkeeper] went on hurriedly.

Youre right! Butsomethings off. Im sorry, excuse me. This is part of your lesson, isnt it?

The Drowned Witch paused, and her eyes flickered. Erin didnt miss the way her lips twitched as she turned her head. The [Innkeeper] blinkedthen smiled herself. She felt more sure suddenly, and whirled to face the third ghost coming her way.

The Djinni floating her way was aware his time was already running out. He drew himself up proudly, and the boy grew in size until he was a giant with flashing eyes like clouds, arrayed in silks worthy of any Chandrarian [King]. Then his body began to twist into a more fantastical shape based on the humanoid form. His voice boomed.

My name is Qintevfal, and I am

Im sorry, give me one second!

Erin ran past him, waving her arms frantically in apology. The massive Djinni cut off in the middle of his introduction and stood there, looking rather confused.

The [Innkeeper] ran into the crowd of ghosts, calling out, running through some people which was rude, but she was in a hurry. She shouted.

Excuse me! Has anyone seen the Sage of a Thousand Things? Or whatever? The guy with the really long robe? Can anyone point me to

She found him walking away from her, job done. He looked backwards, surprised.

Erin Solstice. Is something wrong? I was told time was of the essence

It probably is. [Witches] are always correct and stuff. But theyre not always right. Especially when theyre being cunning jerks to you. Come back! I need to ask you something!

She tugged him back to the place they had been. Erin saw the Rebel of String returning too, shepherdedby the Drowned Witch. The woman grinned and tipped her hat to Erin. The [Innkeeper] could swear she saw an eye wink.

What can I offer you?

The [Sage] stood there, lookingwell, lost. Grand as could be with his cloak and levels, which exceeded many of the ghosts. He was in the 0.000001%, even here, or something, Erin was sure.

However, that wasnt what he looked like. She looked at him, not the ghost who had been changing to reflect his story of his grandeur in life. Now? He lookedlost.

I forgot to ask you something important.

Then, if it is a recipe or secret, ask and I will

Whats your name?

The [Sage] hesitated. He glanced over his shoulder at the Rebel of String and Djinni, both of whom looked mystified. He replied to Erin.

As I said, Erin Solstice. I omitted it as my choice. It should be lost, as my hubris

Cant you tell me? Id like to know.

Erin pressed him. The [Sage] looked rather put out about his grand gesture of anonymity being called into question.

Iwhat purpose would it solve? My name is no doubt written down despite the passage of time. You need not know it, however. Compared to the secret ofto create a Potion of Ages Reversal, you begin with Sages Grass, and infuse it with a potent dust of bones. To be precise, the bones of any creature that has lived over a hundred years, other qualities rendered inert. And then you

Erin put a finger to his lips.

Shush. I dont care about that. Listen. Wont you tell me your name? You dont want it remembered because you think you messed up. I know. You said that. Butdont you want someone to write it down? To tell your story again and sayhe made mistakes, but he did make Sages Grass? So I can say I met you, instead of the Hundredfold Thousand Secret-guy?

The [Sage] looked more offended with each sentence, but he wavered. He spoke, with some effort.

How would it help you, though?

To that, the [Innkeeper] only laughed. She laughed, as the [Witches] began to smile. At the silly [Sage].

I dont know! Thats not the point! I justdont want to meet you and not know your name. Whats the point of that? If I meet every legend in this world and learn their stories, who cares? Id rathermake a friend.

Her eyes widened as she said that. In that space in time, Erin knew that was what was missing. Of course.

She was no [Bard]. No [Storyteller], or [Historian] whose job it was to tell a story properly, with all facts accounted for or the greatest gravitas and delivery. Erin never told stories like that. She told you about the time Mrsha got so mad at sniffing-Pisces that she dumped food coloring in his laundry and he wore brown underwear.

Like LyonetteErin told stories about her friends. She looked at the lonely [Sage], consumed with guilt countless years after his death. She was far more interested with that, with the cares of the dead, than the mere facts about how he had lived.

The Sage of a Hundred Thousand Secrets looked at Erin. She saw him blink a few times, then, despite himself, smile. He sighed. Then leaned in close and whispered in her ear.

They called me Velzimri. So did I, when I was older. But my real name was just Velzi. I added the rest to sound more majestic.

Erin laughed and clapped her hands together. She took the [Sage] and bade him sit. Then waved the others over.

Why dont you sit with me as I listen, Velzi? Can I call you that? Want some french fries?

Are they some kind of alchemical ingredient? I couldnt tell what they were on first glance. I am a [Sage]. That is disquieting.

Velzimri eyed the McDonalds french fries, which were a bit off from even normal fried potatoes. He looked around at the waiting ghosts.

You cannot spend all the time with me, Erin Solstice

I know that. That doesnt mean you have to leave. Elucina! I had a question for you, too. Im sorry Mister?

She looked up at the Djinni. He boomed.

Qintevfal.

Erins mouth moved for a few seconds.

SorryQin? I just have to ask one thingdo you want fries?

He bent down, and turned into a small man to make the fries go further. Erin handed him a cheap paper cup of ketchup too and Elucina sat down. Velzi was trying to figure out exactly what was in these fries that made them tastedifferent.

Have you something entertaining to ask me, Erin Solstice? You know my name and that of the others. If you were alive when I was, I hope I would have stopped by your inn.

The Rebel of Strings eyes were dancing. She waited, and Erin laughed.

I hope so too. Its justI cant just hear your stories. Maybe ten thousand seconds to tell them is fineeven if its too short, I know. But I have to ask more.

Then ask.

Elucina leaned forwards. The [Sage] and Djinni waited. What would the [Innkeeper] ask? Something petty or funny or?

Erin Solstice looked at the Rebel of String. At the [Sage], full of regrets. She addressed her question to both of them. To the ghosts waiting for her. Even to Califor on the hill, to Gerial. The true question and thing she wanted to learn.

If I wakeif I remember it all. I know its a big if. But if I can bring a memory to the land of the living, and you could tell them anythingwhat would that be?

The String Woman stirred. The Djinni smiled triumphantly, showing gleaming teeth. The [Witches] sighed. Then, Elucina threw back her head and regarded Erin fully. Proudly. She did smile then, like the hero of stories.

Ah. I see why you of all came here now.

Elucina saw the [Innkeeper] duck her head, abashed. The String Woman stood. She looked around vast Chandrar, the land of the dead. She closed her eyes and thought. They all did.

Gerial, Califorsuddenly closed their eyes and thought of the thing she would ask them. Erin looked around, heart beating. She would try to remember it all. When Elucina looked back, she sighed.

Be kinder to each other. We were all slaves of cloth, once. What we were made of never mattered. I dont know when they changed.

She looked around and other Stitchfolkcountless billions of themducked their heads, embarrassed. Ashamed. Elucina spoke, words her people had forgotten or never heard. Perhaps ones even the ghosts had never asked, or thought to ask.

I see generations come calling themselves Hemp as if that meant it were poor. Silk, as if silk was grander. What does it matter? If you call me the first of my kind, the first rebel, if you honor meI say it does not matter!

Voices cried out in protest. Erin saw lineages of royalty look at Elucina and fall silent, or argue. The Rebel of String shouted at them.

It does not matter to me! So tell them, Erin Solstice! Tell them I cared nothing for how they were woven or cut! That was not what I would tell them to watch for and care for! I say: look!

She pointed ahead, towards the distant sea and dark skies. The womans voice rose.

If I could have lived, I would have kept rebelling! Kept fighting. Surely there would have been people, monsters who hurt my folk. If I somehow found myself in a time when peace reignedI would still be the Rebel of String, because I know my cause would not be done.

Now she looked up at the Djinni, waiting patiently, and then at Erin.

We were not the first! We will not be the last. Someday, a people like ours will come again. They will surely not look like us. They will not act like us, nor know who came before. So String Folk must wait. Watch. And when the next slaves, the next imprisoned folk cry out, we should raise our blades and cut a path for both of our peoples. For them all.

She met Erins eyes.

Tell them that.

Erin nodded, unable to say anything. She thought she knew of that next people. Now, she sat with Elucina and Velzi and knew them. When the third ghost came, he walked towards her as a man.

Wearing her face. Only, as if Erin had been a young man her age. He grinned, and the Djinni transformed again. A majestic cat with the face of a Humana Garuda with six wings

Qintevfal, right?

Erin managed the name. The Djinni nodded regally.

I greet you. Do you know what I am?

A Djinni?

Erin squinted up at him. Elucina looked calm, but Velzi looked wary. The Djinni laughed, and showed her his wrists.

No shackles on either. He rose up, and Erin realized he had been showing her something. His power, perhaps; even other Djinni looked less vivid than he did, even colored by death.

I am a Prince ofDjinni, little girl. In my life, they knew me by many names. All terrible. They called me monster, demon of magic. Rightly so.

He tapped his chest as some ghosts cried out. Ghosts he had killedand there were too many to count. Qintevfal ignored them all. This was his story. He leaned down, to talk to Erin once more, never holding one form more than a second or two.

I remember we were free. Some here have striven against me, or seen my kind in chains and in wild chaos, endangering the world, waging mighty war. I cannot say we were perfect, but I have never wept for the countless dead. I am still burning with that desire for vengeance. Even now. Will you listen to it?

He smiled and Erin nodded slowly, looking up at him. Even in his introduction, something in her chest stirred, pushing away at the easy way he almost bragged about the people he had killed. Neverthelessshe glanced at Elucinathey had both been slaves.

She listened. Qintevfal might have been the best storyteller, and he left her with a message for his people. However, she did not invite him to stay, nor did it seem like he expected it. He left her unsettled, and she stopped a second until asking the next ghost to come forwards.

-

Not all were good storytellers. Not all had good reasons. Yet for a while, the ghosts of the dead told her their stories.

Some she asked to stay. Some she made friends with. Some told her secrets they had been too ashamed to tell in life, gave her advice, wanted and not. Helpful or unhelpful. Some tried to spend their time simply teaching her things, rather than telling her their life.

She met monsters who pretended to be people, and people who had been called monsters. The [Witches] did not discern between things like good or evil. Just who had mattered, had stood at the pinnacle of what they were for one reason or another.

Erin tried to hold all the stories and knowledge in her mind and knew she never would. Even the ghosts struggled to keep up with it. But she listened.

She liked stories. More than that?

She liked people. Not everyone, but a good [Innkeeper] had her crowd. She spoke to them, making the same statement to all.

I forget a lot of things. Names, faces, all kinds of stuff. I cant promise you Ill remember if I get to go back, either.

Erin only rose when Califor came to find her.

Erin. Something is happening at the coast. Follow me.

The [Witch] beckoned and a crowd of ghosts, Gerial included, rose to their feet. How long it had been, the [Innkeeper] didnt know. But she rose and followed Califor as quickly as she could.

That was how she heard him, and then saw him. A booming voice, filled with wrath.

I have flown the world across, defying the grip of shades to search for hope amid darkness. I will not be turned back, not by all the petty little ghosts of Chandrar! Move aside, you animated corpses!

There was only one kind of person who had a tone that imperious and commanding. A Lyonette-kind of person.

That turned out to be a gigantic, hovering Dragon in the air, just inside the radius of light cast by the umbrella. Behind him roiled the dark shadows, squirming to get at the ghost.

Yet he did not fully enter Chandrar; walls of sand blocked him. The Dynasty of Khelt was facing off against the Dragon.

Uh. Why are they stopping him?

Half the ghosts looked at Erin as if she were a fool. Elucina whispered in her ear.

Because he is a Dragon. Chandrar suffers no Dragons.

Why?

No one had time to explain. The enmity between Chandrarian rulers and Dragons ran deep. However, it seemed even the Dynasty of Khelt wasnt actually trying to push said Dragon out into the sea where he might be consumed.

Something stood there. Erin shuddered as she saw one of the six, thething with no discernible features, the lost thing, waiting there. The Dragon flapped forwards.

Let me in, and explain this light, ghosts.

Ask, Dragon. We are dead! Humble yourself one iota and but ask to enter Chandrar!

The furious rulers of Khelt shouted at him. The Dragon snorted plumes of purple fire tinged withErin blinked. Transparent fire? It was a wondrous color, even in death. And his scales! They were beautiful! Not one color. More likespace itself. She stared up at him, a being bigger than Yderigrisel, majestic, as awe-inspiring as the greatest of Djinni or Giants.

And sort of rude. The Void Dragon bellowed a reply.

I am the last Dragonlord of Stars and I will not supplicate myself to any mortal ruler there was or ever has been! Enough of this!

He blew flames, trying to break Khelts walls of sand, and then flew at them. He had probably forgotten that he was a ghost and these walls of Khelts power in death were more solid than actual walls would have been in life. Erin could swear she heard an ugrhf sound as he smacked into the sand.

A lot of ghosts laughed at him, mocking the Dragon. The enraged ghost flew higher, roaring his fury. But the sand just blocked him, forming an aerial shield. They might have done this forever had Califor and the [Witches] not strode forwards.

Enough! The end of the world draws nigh and we waste time on supremacy? Let him in!

The Dynasty of Khelt hesitated, but then reluctantly lowered their hands. The Dragon landed, wings spread, as ghosts scattered. He whirledbut the lost thing never advanced.

It feared the sunlight. And the glowing sword held up by the ruler chosen to wield it for the momentthe first [King] of a place called Tiqr. The Dragonlord huffed.

Across the sea it chased me. Two of my kin no less great than I flew, breathing fire which still burns themand yet they were lost. Consumed. How is it that mere sunlight can hold them off?

It is more than a seeming. It is sunlight from the land of the living. Or a memory as strong as Dragonfire. Well met, Dragonlord of the Stars. I am Somillune, the Witch of Ash. I greet you along with the ghosts of Chandrar past. How are you named?

Somillune walked forwards as the ghosts clamored. The Witch of Ashes raised her hand and tipped her hat. She did not kneel or bow.

The Dragon glowered at herthen seemed to recognize her hat or power. He grunted.

Witches. At last, some sense among Chandrars pigheaded lot. We thought you were all fallen long ago without our Dragonfire. I am Dragonlord of the Stars, Xarkouth. Last of the Dragonlords of Void Dragons. Soon to be among the last of my kind. Again.

His wings folded. He lookedtired. The Dragon exhaled as the Dynasty of Khelt and leaders of ghosts came forwards. Erin hopped on her tip-toesthen realized she could just fly up and watch.

Where do you hail from, Xarkouth?

Baleros. I have flown across the sea. I am a volunteera scout. Nine of my kin flew after we set two of those things to flightone of them being that one.

The Dragon growled, indicating the watching thing with a wary flap of the wings. The ghosts murmured.

Baleros still stands, then?

The Dragon laughed in the face of the First of Khelt, who faced him down, glowering, as with many nations who had fought off Dragons in their lifetimes.

Of course it does! How could it not? Every Dragon that has ever been has gone to Baleros to make a stand! Only those with ties to hearth and home elsewhere remained! We never joined your damned land of Chandrar, even the ones who died. We have been fighting off the six and the lesser shades since they grew in strength! Though

He sobered.

It grows harder each time. And when that woman comes, we perish. So nine of us volunteered to search for other ghosts, that we might make a stand together.

The ghosts murmured, impressed. Only a Dragon, still able to breathe fire because it was part of them, could hope to make the journey. Erin remembered Califor and her flight across the ocean with Izrilian ghosts.

We know Izril has fallen. Do you have news beyond Baleros?

Xarkouth nodded, and some of his bravado faded. He turned somber. He was not fond of the ghosts, nor they of him, but he spoke, as one did to allies against a greater enemy.

Yes. Terandria stands. Drath stands, or so we think. I searched for the House of Minosnothing amid shadows. Nor under the sea, I fear. Strongholds are falling, but those that remain grow stronger as ghosts flee there.

Terandria stands?

Some ghosts called out, heartened. Somillune turned to the other [Witches] and ghosts.

How can Terandria stand without Dragonfire?

The Dragonlord raised his head and called to the ghosts of Chandrar.

With the weight of all its rulers! Take heart, ghosts! The enemy comes relentlessly, but they are not strong enough to withstand combined Dragonfire. Not yet. Baleroseven Wistram is protected by power in death! Terandria? The bearded one walked there to claim it. I am told a thousand [Kings] and [Princes] met him in battle.

Someone scoffed. The Djinni, Qin.

What battle could ghosts give without weapons, Dragon?

Xarkouth snorted smoke and flame at him.

Enough! With pride, with the weight of their land against thema thousand of Terandrias royalty fought that one, though I know not how. What I do know is this: they drove him back. Injured. Enough to buy time. At dear cost, but every monarch ever living in Terandria holds its shores.

More astonishment. Erin looked at Califor. This was good, right? The Dragonlord was muttering, quieter, as she edged forwards.

Scuse me. Scuse me.

She heard him whisper to the [Witches] and closest rulers.

They will not last long. An attempt may be made to bring them to Baleros, although it would put both continents in danger. Moreover, the Humans stubbornly refuse to leave, claiming their land is where they are strongest and where they wish to end it. I do not think they are necessarily wrong either. I thought Chandrar might be in the midst of being consumed. All of Izril is gonesave for pockets.

Pockets still? Where? With that onethe three-in-one, who could stop her?

The Dragonlord grinned wearily.

I wish I could answer you. My other task is to find the ghosts who know! I found ghosts fleeing the City of Graves, who told me the Walled City hurt that one and held her for nearly four hundred thousand seconds! But how is Chandrarall of itintact? This light

It seemed the ghosts had learned to keep time. Erin cheered as Xarkouth looked around.

Whoo! They kicked KasignasI mean, that persons butt? For four hundred thousand seconds? How long is that? Four months? Scuse me. I sort of need to get forwards. Thats my umbrella. Whats a Dragonlord? Excuse

The Dragons eyes widened as he saw Erin, the living girl, amid the dead. He reeled back, fanning his wings.

What is this?

Thisis one of the few weapons left to use against them. Why we remain. The sword and umbrella she brought. Erin Solstice. Meet this ghost of Baleros.

The First of Khelt nodded at Erin. Xarkouth dropped to all fours.

A half-living ghost. We had precious few before the shadows grewyou. Girl. How did you do that?

He glowered at Erin. She backed up; Xarkouth was many times her size. Erin hesitated, then folded her arms.

Im not girl. Im Erin. Nice to meet you. Also, I was given the umbrella. I may have stolen the sword. But Ill give it back.

She stuck a hand outand nearly up the Dragons left nostril. He recoiled, but gave her an impressed look, through the immediate irritation.

This. This changes much. Tell me everything. Who this Human isand how it came to be. We have time. I must return to Baleros and give this news.

He glanced out into the darkness and shook his head.

Something must be done. Although if there is a shield hereperhaps the Dragons must fly here? If we can hold them without their gaining strength forever, that is a victory of a kind! If only mortals didnt die so damn much

The Dragon turned back to Erin. The other ghosts nodded, coming close to explain the extraordinary story. Xarkouth glanced at Erin. She found her heart beating. A Dragonlord? Another Dragon. She wanted to know his story.

If she could have asked Yderigriselwell, the [Innkeeper] listened. To the ghosts talk. To stories. The [Witches] looked at her, wondering if she was ready to learn more.

Lessons and friendship in the land of the dead. For as long as safety lasted.

-

The light shone down. The umbrella hurt the lost thing standing outside its radius. It looked at the glowing sword, and thought of Baleros, burning with thousands of Dragons, able to repel them.

Iffrustration was a concept it had, surely the other five shared it. Yet the lost thing just watched Erin. Watched the ghosts confer, safe for now. It was getting harder to find more than scraps. So long as the strongholds remained, with all that power there, all the souls

The light moved slightly. Every ghost in Chandrar looked up, worried the umbrella had suddenly malfunctioned, if that was possible. But nothe Giant and person who held the umbrella were still. So why had that glorious beam trembled suddenly? Because his arm had grown tired? No. He was a ghost. So why?

Erin looked up with Califor, Xarkouth, and the others. She saw the Giant point with one finger as he held his other arm still.

He hadnt grown tired. But the Giant had

Shivered. Why? Erin turned, and her phantom heart would have skipped a beat if it beat at all.

The lost one. It was

It was smiling at them. Smiling without lips. Without a face. As clear as the sunlight streaming down, Erin realized something.

It had just had an idea. It slowly backed away, and the ghosts watched as it vanished into the distance. They looked at each other. Thengot back to work.

The sun shone down, briefly. While it did, the girl sat with the dead. For as long as it lasted, then

They told her their stories.

Authors Notes: Im back! I have gotten all my vaccine shots and let me tell youthat one update off?

Not restful. Shivers, lightheadedness, and exceptional, I mean, amazing arm pain! Well, its done with now, but I still get my monthly mid-break! Thatwas an unpleasant few days.

However, Im back to writing and whilst they didnt win, the Horns took 2nd (I think?), and so I wrote this chapter combining plot elements. If theyd won, youd get Pisces next chapter.

Instead, its Relc! Probably next chapter? Well seeIm back to work, so lets get to it! I write, you read. You also pay me, so I guess I dont get to complain? But I love complaining. Thanks for reading and see you next chapter!

Nokha by LightResonance, commissioned by /lightsresonance