Chapter 454

Mark and everyone encountered no issues on the way back to the settlement. The winged ship plowed on through open air, and the sky was full of sunrise light. Everyone had expected assassins, nuclear bombs hidden on drones, or other sorts of war crimes waiting to happen. Somehow, Mark got onto the topic of war crimes with Tulo Khava, at the front deck.“The laws of man are flawed, at best, and the laws of God are not nearly as nice as civilization pretends they are,” Tulo Khava said, standing at the railing, with Mark.

“Huh… What does that mean, exactly?”

Tulo shrugged, saying, “Laws made by people don’t matter unless people make them matter, and the only ‘person’ capable of making laws that actually matter is God, and so even the idea of ‘war crimes’ is just humans being self-important, once again. God allows for everything, and so it follows that nukes happening in your path is something that you have to contend with because that is what is happening at that moment.”

An eldritch thing flowed through the air when Tulo spoke of ‘God’. Mark hadn’t noticed it at first, but he noticed it now.

Mark asked, “You believe in a ‘God’?”

Tulo Khava paused, and then looked at Mark. “Oh. You can hear that now, huh?”

That eldritch flowed through the air, around them and through them, not touching either of them. Mark was the only one tracking it with his eyes, ever so briefly. Tulo didn’t see it at all.

“Yeah, I can hear that. So that means this Waterpeople-language-antimeme-thing is pretty extensive, and known to all of the People?”

The eldritch thing flowed around them again.

“Oh yes,” Tulo said, studying Mark. “You got out from under it… It’s that soulhouse, yes?”

“No, actually, but that helped a lot. It’s another thing… So you only believe in one god?”

Tulo hummed, then looked back toward the north, toward the settlement right up there on the horizon. They could see the gate now, like a small black square standing tall over a grey-ish city wall, lording over the surrounding lands.

Tulo said, “We do believe in a God— do, I suppose. I wish we could have had this conversation back at the Winter Ball. If you came to Aunti Mabi with this clarity in your eyes she likely would have had a much different discussion about the housebook they were holding in treasure.”

The eldritch thing in the air surrounded Tulo, protecting him from sight, making his words undulate on the air weirdly, hiding him through mirage as he spoke of the ‘housebook held in treasure’. Mark had never heard such a phrase, and from how the eldritch thing covered up his words, and how Mark could only hear them as though they were coming from down a long hallway, Mark imagined he had never actually heard such a phrase before now. This eldritch hiding-magics of the People were deeply active, surrounding every single one of them, triggering off of many different words.

Mark had a lot of questions, but he was feeling exactly what Tulo was feeling; A lot of things suddenly got shoved to the back in light of Godking Dominant’s attack on the Winter Ball. It had been about 10 hours since that event, since the story started evolving on international news, and everything about everything suddenly seemed less important, and yet...

Mark swung his Unionsense toward Addavein. The guy was about 25 meters away and below deck, hanging out on a chair and sipping tea as he pressed a poultice of tea leaves and junk inside of a warm compress against the wound on his neck. That wound was already looking better, but it would take time to truly heal. Later, Mark would help Addavein heal it directly, after he fixed the major issues.

Addavein didn’t seem able to sense this conversation happening at all. He was still truly engrossed with whatever he was seeing through all of his little spy-spells that only he could see, and with fixing himself as much as he could.

Mark asked Tulo, “What do you mean ‘holding in treasure’? That seems like a specific phrase.”

Tulo smirked, surprise flexing on his vector once again. “It a specific phrase. Some people use it as a curse. Others, as a traditional obligation. What it means is that we have something we cannot use, because no one can use it. Based on current events, we think that the housebook only works on either elves, or Inheritors, or maybe Tri-Talents. It could be something more obscure than that, but honestly… Do you think, based on human nature, that it could have survived the hundreds of years it’s been in our ‘vaults’ if we couldn’t use it?”

Mark felt a twitch of real mirth, like a bit of gloom that wasn’t so gloomy, as he watched the eldritch thing in the air swirl around them deeply, completely turning Tulo invisible for a strong moment. Mark huffed a laugh, then said, “I suppose should have stolen it and used it by now… they knew what it could do.”

“The stories of it are rather distant, but we do know what it does… somewhat. It’s all mystery and history, and The Blessing is rather thorough about erasing our real heritage to all outsiders. Even Walaria and Aluatha cannot know these things, though she has certainly tried. All of them have.” Tulo explained, “The book itself is a simple thing; a golden square of leaf-like paper and a solid gold-wood binding the size of a hand, sitting atop a silver pillar that is the center of a village square. You can touch it. You can pick it up. You can try to use it. I tried once, when I was very young. Most of the People have. Most simply ignore it because no one has ever been able to use it.

“The writing inside is incomprehensible and it shifts all over the place, so reading it is impossible. It has instructions for use on the back, and simple glyphs on the front. You put it on your chest, and sleep, and then the book is absorbed.”

“Holy fucking shit,” Mark said, both because of the information provided, and because the eldritch thing had fully erased Tulo from the world as he spoke. But Tulo was still there, and Mark still heard him. But Mark’s brain and Unionsense was telling him that Tulo wasn’t there at all. It was freaky. Mark didn’t understand it at all, and yet he still understood Tulo. “That’s… strong.”

“Doesn’t seem to be touching you, much… but I shouldn’t talk much more about the book. It’s bad luck to use The Blessing when you don’t need it. I will say people have stolen the book before, but it always ends up back where it was eventually. It cannot be removed from the island at all, so all this panicking and thinking to fight Addavein over it?” Tulo shook his head, waved a dismissive hand, and said, “Ain’t a worry.”

Mark nodded a little… And then he asked, “What about goblins overrunning the island and taking it? They are elves… sort of.”

Tulo frowned deeply, then said, “Aye… this is a worry. If they are elves then… then this could be a real worry. No one knows.” Tulo looked outward, adding, “And Dominant has started World War Daihoon.”

Mark solidly said, “I won’t be able to come help fend the goblins off—”

Tulo winced hard, put his head on the railing, and groaned in physical pain, like he knew that a bad thing had already happened but now he was actually seeing that bad thing. Like you could hear a monster munching on a person on the other side of a wall, but seeing the corpse being eaten in front of you was a whole other set of emotions.

Mark added, “But I’ve already planned to help make powerhouses for the war. People will be coming to the settlement to get Second and Third Powers. So talk to whoever you need to talk to at home, and send some islanders my way, too, and I’ll help make some powerhouses for you and yours to assist against the goblin threat, and against Dominant’s aggression. From what I’m seeing of this eldritch thing you got going on, it doesn’t affect your… bloodline? I’m guessing? So that’s what you need, anyway; your own people, empowered to help yourselves. You need people who can operate on your island themselves.”

Tulo’s emotions did a complicated series of flips, his eyes darting from Mark, to the horizon, his vector going internal and external as he looked at Mark, trying to figure him out, and then he said, “Ah… Well. Yes. Yes. I will… be telling them that— Wait. You talked about elves switching out Skills— Powers, I mean, in your documentary, and you went out to go help that Binding guy… Did you succeed with him? Canswitch Powers?”

Mark grinned a little, teasing, “You’re out of the loop, huh!”

“Everything is happening too much, Mark,” Tulo said, like there was a crushing weight upon him that Mark hadn’t noticed until that moment.

“How bad is it with the goblins?”

“Bad.”

“I hear that… Try to keep my offer hush-hush, but put out feelers. See if people want different Powers or whatever. Your heroes of the People are gonna need to become superheroes, and it’s going to be a big deal for a lot of people. Like… My uncle is a True Healer, and he once told me that he could work all day every day, forever, and there would still be work to be done. So I’m going to limit my offer pretty hard, and the first-come-first-served are going to be whoever Walaria sends to me. But I want to help The People, too.” Mark added, “Because yes. I can switch out Powers.”

Tulo nodded a little, looking away again, saying, “That’ll help, a lot.”

By then they were closer to the settlement, and people were able to hear Mark talk to Tulo.

Soon, Eliot spoke of their arrival docking sequence, and Derek took the ship through the settlement’s airspace—

A slight iridescence touched the ship, and a voice slipped into the air around Mark.

Aurora Valen, General of the Settlement Project, spoke mid-air, from wherever she was far down below, saying, “Welcome back, Mark. It appears your new solidification prevents me from telepathically connecting to you, which is fine. Probably better that way, considering we’re headed into war. I’ll keep this short: Walaria has brought me up to speed. I’ll give you 3 hours, but then I want you to come to Castle South for a talk.”

Mark said, “Be there shortly.”

The prismatic air retreated.

Soon, Derek landed the ship at the normal landing zones. Crowds had gathered. There were civilians from the city, reporters, warriors that Mark and everyone knew, paladins and priests, and some guards in the army. The guards were trying to form a barrier so that Mark and his people could descend to the ground, and that mostly worked. Nendi Page, that reporter that overcame all obstacles between her and her target, locked eyes with Mark and Mark kinda glared death at her.

“Not right now,” Mark said softly.

Even though Nendi Page was easily a hundred meters away, Mark saw the very moment when she decided to teleport right up to the deck of the ship. Mark would have applauded her for that level of restraint, but the woman was at the edge of the ship’s landing zone, and so Mark hopped off of the side of the ship, right to this side of a line of soldiers. That’s when Nendi Page hopped the line, but just by a few meters.

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Pretty much everyone started pushing past the guards, rapidly overwhelming them. Everyone wanted to know what had happened.

Mark brushed over all the yelling, calling out, “Nendi Page! You got a question? I’ll answer one!”

The crowd rapidly quieted.

Nendi Page raised her voice, asking, “Is it true we’re going to war with Okuana?”

Mark felt a rush of rage at the world come out through his voice as he said, “I got nothing against Okuana, so if Dominant wants to lay his head down and let me chop it off, then that’s all that really needs to happen. But if Okuana comes after us, we will respond in kind. Death to the Godking.”

Nendi Page almost shouted another question, but then she decided to shout out, “Thank you for your response!”

Mark took his leave while people shouted slogans.

It was the work of half an hour to see everyone safely to wherever they needed to go, with Mark and everyone answering questions from all of the people around them.

- -

In the brightness of the church, in a small, white stone room, fit for just two people and any of the gods, Mark sat across from Eliot, and Eliot took a deep breath. He was still nervous. He was in communion with Hearthswell.

Mark waited.

Slowly, warmly, soft golden fires licked down the walls and settled onto Eliot’s shoulders like grandmotherly hands. Eliot wanted Necromancer, but Eliot wanted to wait for this moment, for this place and this communion. It was important to Eliot, and so…

Mark waited.

Eliot opened his amber eyes and locked sight with Mark, saying, “I’m ready.”

Mark nodded, and then he half-lidded his eyes.

With one hand, Mark held the undulating Death-forged Binding that was Necromancer.

With his other hand, Mark reached out to Eliot.

Eliot solidly put his hand onto Mark’s hand, and then he was there, in the dream, floating like so much rippling sand and memories and soft, amber-colored flames. Hearthswell was not there—

Eliot pulled his hand away, saying, “Wait. Stop.”

Mark stopped, because—

“Hearthswell left?” Eliot asked, even as golden fire settled back down onto Eliot’s shoulders

“Yeah. She did. That would be my Clean House ritual.” Mark added, “I won’t be changing that.”

… Eliot shivered into the warmth of Hearthswell’s golden flames, closing his eyes and thinking.

… Then the golden fire floated away, but it lingered on the walls.

Eliot opened his eyes and said, “Hearthswell says to Union with ‘Soul Binding’ and ‘Necromancer Binding’ instead of however you were going to do it. Try to slip the Power exactly where it needs to go.”

Mark arched an eyebrow. “That’s a really good idea.”

Eliot seemed more secure this time as he held out a hand to Mark, powering through the fear, saying, “Let’s do this.”

Mark nodded, and then he prepared himself once again.

Soon, Mark held Eliot’s ephemeral, dream-like hand in one hand, and the Death-forged adamantine-black Binding for Necromancy in the other. And then Mark Unioned with the Soul Binding that Eliot already had, which was nothing, while also Unioning with the Necromancer Binding in his soulhouse.

The effect was different than it had been with Cade.

Eliot’s soul opened for him, becoming a sand-tossed flow, revealing his amber-colored fire within. The black Necromancer Binding slipped into the fire, like putting an iron into a forge, and also like a magnet snapping into place.

The forge took the new iron well, and golden, grandmotherly fires undulated in the distance, just beyond Mark’s house.

The whole thing went off without a hitch. As it was happening, as it was finishing, Mark knew that Hearthwell’s suggestion had made manipulating Eliot’s Binding a lot easier than it had been to Manipulate Cade’s.

With Cade’s Skilling, with Transcendent Body, Mind, and Soul, it had been like fitting 3 puzzle pieces into a grand design that fit together perfectly, and which Cade fought against with animal instinct. Cade had thrashed. Cade had almost died. And yet, when Mark got going, when Cade stabilized, Cade’s Water mana had easily slipped between all of his new Powers, just like how water easily flowed, like normal.

When Mark was pulling ‘Nothing’ out from Cade, and giving him his new Powers in turn, Mark had gotten some fragmented ‘Nothing’ in turn, which he had just discarded like so much broken soulstuff. It was not nearly as bad as doing a one-way Union, where Mark’s Union stressed out, trying to hold in all of a one-sided Union. But it had been close. Mark had chosen to Union with ‘Nothing’ when working with Cade because Mark truly didn’t have a better idea.

But Unioning with a specific slot in the Power Hex to replace that section of the Binding with a specific Binding of the appropriate slot had been easy.

Mark had still ended up with a void of nothing in his soulhouse that rapidly disintegrated in all directions, but this technique was the difference between surgery with a scalpel versus with a knife. It was just cleaner. Mark guessed that Eliot’s soul would remain mostly undamaged, due to that cleanliness of the cut. He might even be able to keep most of his Power Level, unlike Cade who had started from ‘fresh off the Tutorial’.

Watching Eliot’s fire-like soul take in Necromancer was different from Cade’s water-soul.

Eliot’s existing mana type was actually ‘Hearthfire’ mana, which was oxygen-based like all Fire manas, and which was rather airy. Air still flowed, though, and fire flowed even faster than air. As Eliot’s amber ‘Hearthfire’ flowed into the new Power, consuming it and making it Eliot’s own, that Hearthfire mana merged with the new black Binding.

A prismatic amber dream, all rainbow and myriad, gained darker nuances of shadow and Death.

Mark pulled back, closing his eyes, pulling away his hand.

Eliot was in slight pain, sweat on his brow and worry in his heart. It was nothing compared to Cade’s soul surgery. The only thing causing Eliot real pain right now was the worry about pain. And then golden fires touched his shoulders again, and the pain vanished and the worry eroded.

Eliot wasn’t even aware that Mark was done.

Mark waited.

… Eliot opened one eye, and then he opened both and looked at his hands, at his fingers. He asked, “That… wasn’t that bad?”

“Hearthswell’s suggestion was perfect. I’m going to be doing that from now on. So how do you feel?”

Eliot looked at his hands and he wasn’t sure how he felt. He didn’t say that, though. He didn’t say anything. Mostly, his vector flowed outward, everywhere, and then rather far. He got ‘thin’ like how Walaria was thin when she wasn’t looking right at you and concentrating on you, because Eliot’s astral body was stretched over the entirety of the settlement.

Mark imagined Eliot’s Power Level took a hit, but that wasn’t anything that really mattered, except in the short term.

Mark explained, “When I slotted Necromancer the first time, I felt like I didn’t know I was dying until I got some Death mana, and then I felt alive. I was an adamantine elemental when I did that, though, which had a big reason for making me feel like nothing at all, and then back to being a human. I’m not sure how you feel right now. Are you reaching out into the settlement to feel the Death out there?”

Eliot blinked, and his vector coming back to the moment. He looked at Mark and said, “Sorry. I was focusing. It’s… different. Like I can feel flickering through the settlement that I couldn’t feel before.”

“Can you feel any undead?”

“Not… as such… no? There is SOMETHING new, but… It’s like an overlap of my Castellan sense, but a lot less… everything.”

Mark stood up, saying, “Want me to leave you here for a while? Or do you want to see Aurora with me?”

“Let’s go.” Eliot stood, and opened the door, saying, “I know how to stop myself from doing things, so there shouldn’t be any Andria-with-Manipulation incidents.”

Mark chuckled, and then he walked with Eliot and teased, “Aww! I didn’t know you felt that way about me.”

Eliot snorted. “You do have a great ass, but I’m not into cock.”

Mark laughed.

“Now! That said… If you wanna Shape yourself some double Ds and a ‘thigh gap’, we can talk.”

Mark grinned… and he almost did it, just to be funny, but, “Isoko would get too jealous if you were also in the running.”

“Oh gods, she would, wouldn’t she!” Eliot laughed.

Mark chuckled.

The shadows of worry had broken, for now.

Soon, they left the hallway containing all of the communication rooms for the gods. They exited the church to the side-entrance, hopped on the tram, and then semi-strangers were asking Mark and Eliot questions about the Winter’s Ball fiasco and ‘What did Emperor Salvation when he said we were back at war with Dominant?’, which seemed like a disastrously stupid question… but Mark took a breath, knew these people were just worried, then he told them like it was.

When they got off the tram at Castle South, along with a whole bunch of other people, Mark asked Eliot, “Do you think we should get a few cars? Or have personal hovercraft? Would Aurora go for that?”

Eliot bemoaned, “.”

Mark grinned, just a little, and said, “I do, too.”