“What do you think she meant by house? Like a physical location? Or an imagined location, like the Binding?” Tartu asked.

  Mark said, “Probably what I said earlier, meaning a real location inside the person, and probably in the dream. You asking the question in different ways is not going to get a different answer.”

  Tartu grumbled in deep thought.

  Quark had done much of the heavy lifting translating what Myranial had said, but Mark discussing what had been said, alongside the vectors of everyone else, and alongside the hidden words that Quark did not near, took about 4 times as long as the actual meeting. The translation magic only worked for those on the blanket, at the tea ceremony. Everyone else had to muddle along.

  Mark was very clear that the elves had learned English fast, though, which hinted at vast mental powers.

  With the idea that they could switch out their Bindings at their leisure floating around, everyone rapidly decided that they had all acquired some Mental Powers for the meeting.

  The big worry was packed away, though; It appeared that there would be no instant fighting, and that diplomacy would rule the day.

  Mark had finished giving out his understandings of the meeting about two hours ago, and now he was down to precise discussions with everyone.

  David and Lola were very concerned with the gods of the Pantheon having been called ‘Assistants’. Whatever the gods thought about that they were keeping to themselves, for now.

  Eliot had tried to Man-made Manipulate the space outside of the Dreadnought, and now he was concerned that the elves were truly non-human, because his Power didn’t work here. It was kind of a ‘duh’ moment for him, but it solidified the idea that this was truly an alien land for him.

  Sally and Isoko were concerned with the looks that Steel Elf had given them. Kialo of the Plains wanted to war and possibly fuck, and neither of the girls knew which one Kialo wanted more than the other, or if he was interested more in doing that stuff with Mark, or with them. Mark chose to ignore half of that scenario.

  Andria was concerned about elven culture as an anathema to Prosperity. They didn’t care about money, or timely production of things, and they lived the easy life, one and all, except for those that chose to live outside of that easy life, and to voluntarily war with each other. In truth, they had so much prosperity that they didn’t care to have more, so why would they ever want to treat with humans on an equal level? They could go to war with humanity, or help, and both would be a meeting of imperialists versus savages, and humanity was very much not the imperialists in that situation.

  Once Andria actually explained why she was worried about the elves not caring about Prosperity, Mark acquired the same worry.

  Tartu wanted to know about magic.

  And so Mark was here, with Tartu, in his workshop in the Dreadnought, with half of his attention here and half of his attention out there, both with Union and with the visuals Quark was feeding him, keeping him apprised of the elven lands. Tartu had several large screens on the walls, showing slightly different visuals of the same things.

  “Maybe ‘the house’ is a POV-shift?” Tartu asked, eyes to the side, looking at the screens. “As in they think the Binding is something that the ‘house’ is, when viewed a certain way? Perhaps it’s that ‘in the dreamland’ thing that Freyala spoke of? The house is a realm in the dreamland?”

  “I think that might be close to it,” Mark said, having already told Tartu about Blackthorn’s idea of the ‘house’ of Powers. It had taken Tartu half an hour to come to the conclusion that the archmage wasn’t being facetious. Mark added, “Blackthorn might have been truly telling me how it actually works back then.”

  Tartu frowned a little. “Blackthorn isn’t in Mage Society… so I want to discount his ideas, but he is one of the most learned archmages on Earth.”

  “I told you about Planty being some sort of ‘Demon Queen’, right?”

  Tartu shuddered. “Yeah, you did…” He went silent. And then he looked at Mark, and asked, “So the truth of Resurrection Magic is some combination of being a part of a collective, and then coming back? Like Wongod being the center of his Green?”

  “Resurrection magic probably has levels. There’s the level that the Resurrection Ghost worked at, which was probably gathering souls in the dreamland and repairing the body and putting the soul back, and then there’s whatever the elves here do when they ‘file books’ with each other, and with the ‘Library’, whatever the hell that means… Did you notice they don’t have formal names for things? Like we have ‘Aluatha Empire’ and ‘Earth’ and whatever? For them it’s ‘The Library’ and ‘Assistants’ and ‘The Joined’.”

  “They probably forgot their own proper names, or they chose to forget them, or any number of other explanations. I’d say the translation magic was messing up, but the sigils they used were cobbled together to mean those words, too. They truly don’t care about the past.”

  Mark said, “That kinda makes me feel good and bad… Like, at least I think they’re not as much of a danger as Andria thinks they are. They want to be left alone. They don’t want to deal with humans. They’re not going to go back to Two Worlds and fuck everything up like imperialists.”

  Tartu didn’t agree with that. He had said so earlier, alongside Andria, but he reaffirmed that stance when he said, “The barest touch of the elves on Earth or Daihoon would be disastrous, even if they don’t actively do anything to humanity. They could show up at a news broadcast, talk to the goblins, and suddenly become a true, major problem.”

  “... yeah, maybe.”

  “At this point…” Tartu lined a whole bunch of things up in his mind, and then he said, “The Skull Priests of Kabberjaw think that Kabberjaw is the draconic skeleton of the Dragon King, after he joined with thousands of demons to repel some ancient threat, and that is why the Dragon King’s story ended 4,000 years ago.

  “According to the Ice Walls, the elves keep out the outsiders, or whatever you want to call them.

  “According to the elves, they have actively chosen to forget the past, because to remember the past makes them a little crazy.

  “According to Planty, Resurrection Magic is banned because it led to a whole lot of terrible shit in the past.” Tartu finished with, “I don’t have all the facts lined up right now, but I’m guessing a few different things out here are all connected, and that you truly did become an Inheritor of Xerkona through your actions… whatever that means.”

  Mark nodded a little, feeling like he was walking on top of some thin ice. Soon the world would open up and they’d all fall into the deepest shit possible.

  Mark asked, “Was coming here a step on the moon?”

  Was coming here the prelude to a Second Reveal?

  Tartu didn’t want to say the words himself, either, so he said, “It’s been a crazy journey into Endless Daihoon… not the moon. This is not… that.” And then he added, “There’re a few ways this could go. If the elves come back and fight, then it’s a fight. If they tell us to fuck off? Maybe we can break through the shield around the spire and get you the mana that way, maybe. BUT, if they tell us to go up there and grab the prismatic mana for you, and then leave peacefully… That will be the easiest way for this to go. Someone, somewhere, in their society knows about the ‘dreamways’, and we can probably take them back to Earth or Daihoon. And then we can leave this place behind and probably be interrogated for a few months by the Empire before we’re allowed to go back to our normal lives.”

  Tartu had a better opinion of the Empire than Mark.

  Mark looked over to the screens on the wall, at the rolling, fertile fields, at the cultivated lakes and rivers, at the fields of wine grapes, and at the occasional elf, coming out from hiding and going back to their normal schedules. A lot of the elves came out in 2s and 3s, to look up at the ship. Some of them were clearly talking to each other about coming up here, but then their friends shook their heads most violently, and the one ‘joking’ about coming up here just laughed it off.

  Mark said, “They don’t care to interact with new things, unless those new things are what they wish to interact with.”

  Tartu gestured at the view of some guys fighting in the distance, adding, “It’s not all peace and flowers.”

  Mark and Tartu watched the long-range view of a pair of elves fighting. They really went at it. One was a flying sword martial guy who used swords and air platforms to jump around and slice around the battlefield. The other was a wispy kinda guy, wielding freezing winds that locked down the flying swords, and then he used flickers of light to teleport around the battlefield.

  The wind-stepping elf was already down 1 arm. Wind-dude had lost half a leg. Blood flowed. Faces grimaced and words roared from raw throats.

  Quark translated some of the words as ‘Give us back what you stole’ and ‘You hid instead of fight! It is your own fault’.

  Whatever story was going on out there was not a part of the Dreadnought’s incursion into the realm… maybe. Perhaps the one guy had used the Dreadnought’s appearance and the complete hiding of every elf to infiltrate and steal something? Hmm. Maybe.

  Tartu added, “So some elves might want to visit Earth and Daihoon, just to see what was up with the place… and maybe some already have? They could be hidden out there, working in the shadows. Maybe we already know the Endless Court, but they go by a different name.”

  Mark said, “I haven’t been to the depths of any of the empires, Aluatha included, so sure, there could be a lot of hidden shit, but even the gods didn’t know any of this stuff…” Mark glanced upward, sensing Lola’s vector fervently going back into prayer, adding, “Everyone is all wound up now over learning stuff we didn’t know, including the Pantheon. And that means that the elves truly haven’t been a part of the Two Worlds for thousands and thousands of years… Have you tried communing with Verdago?”

  Tartu’s face did a little wince. Not a frown, not a sigh. He said, “I have communed with him. He’s waiting and seeing. He’s not talking about any of this stuff, either. The whole Pantheon is silent and thinking.”

  “A sensible strategy, I suppose—”

  Red warning flashes appeared at the top of a few viewing screens and Quark rapidly adjusted the largest screen in the room to a specific view, coming from the north, from the spire, as he spoke on the intercoms, “Attention. There is a vessel approaching from the direction of the target spire.”

  Mark was already up and out of his seat, rushing upstairs to get out into the open.

  Soon, Mark was on the deck of the Dreadnought with Sally running up from the hub and Isoko settling down beside Mark, on the wind. Sally tapped off of the ground and crossed the intervening 100 meters with a single bound, her TT reaching out like crystal sparks to grab the ground before she landed and more firmly grabbed the ground, to stand equal with Isoko.

  Derek was still at the hub, and at the forecastle, and at the viewing deck on top of the main castle, while everyone else was either looking directly or at screens. Lola said something about not looking them in the eyes for there were certain magics that could work that way, though she admitted in the very same sentence that she was likely being paranoid. Still, though, it was common knowledge not to have everyone on a team looking at the actual threat, so Derek, Andria, and Tartu were looking in other directions, and through screens. Eliot and David were checking over the Dreadnought.

  About 3 kilometers away, level with the Dreadnought, an elven ship slowly approached. Very slowly. It had appeared suddenly but now it was obviously coming in like a statement, and the whole thing looked extravagant. Could just be their style, though.

  It looked sort of like a town square, with a big tree growing in the middle. Not a BIG tree. Maybe only 20 meters tall. The whole thing was sweeping bronze and subtle gold stretched over a large square of white stone, and it was more like a pleasure barge than a real hovership.

  The elves on the ship had set out a large spread of food on a long table, and though there were no chairs there were plenty of sitting pillows. The tree sort of grew at an angle, sweeping backward before it grew toward and over the center of the floating town square, where the food lay. The tree’s roots grew into the ‘bronze’ curling around the edges of the barge, and Mark assumed that the roots and the metal were the same.

  “That is the weirdest ship I have ever seen,” Mark softly said.

  Eliot said on the comms, “I’ve seen stranger, but not much stranger. Don’t fly over there. I’m sending up platforms now.”

  The cargo of the Dreadnought slipped open and several hover platforms came out and settled in front of Mark and the girls. Mark got on the big one, and then Eliot controlled them to lift off, with the girls following.

  Quark picked out the elves on the platform before Mark did.

  Kialo of the Plains stood beside the tree, dressed a lot nicer than before. He still had on his plain steel jewelry, but now he also had one of those white swords that Mark had disarmed off of the elf that tried to behead him in the first encounter, in the village. That sword held at Kialo’s hip, in a plain white scabbard. Myranial of the Library was beside Elder Leeom, beside the fruits and the table. Myranial still had her white book and her white jewelry. Elder Leeom was without ornamentation at all, except for the dots of black on his ears, fingers, and the line of adamantium he had as a necklace. All of the elves were wearing billowy white or pastel colors, and darker undertones.

  The central person, the last and the main person, was a female elf who wore black jewelry, just like Elder Leeom, but she had a much fiercer look in her eyes. She did not have one of those white swords that Mark had disarmed off of that guy in the village. She had an adamantine-black staff, and it was half a head taller than the elf holding it. The weapon seemed more like a pillar than a weapon.

  … Mark took out his fragment of a divine mirror, now that he thought about it, and he looked at the elves through it, almost blinding himself with the prismatic white light that shone though. Perhaps, if he had mortal eyes, then he would have been blinded. Even so, it was a near thing, because it wasn’t a real light. It was spiritual. Magical.

  Mark softly told everyone, “The elves are brilliant white inside the view of the mirror, along with all of the land around us. It might be the prismatic mana. But they also have golden outlines to every one of them.”

  The only thing that didn’t radiate light was the black staff in the woman’s grip. That thing drunk in the light. It was absolute black adamantium, and it was also an absolute void in the light of the land.

  Mark told his team, “I think that staff might be a soul-killing weapon. Something real special.”

  Sally and Isoko heard and understood, though they said nothing.

  Mark put the mirror shard away.

  Everything right now was an affectation, because this was two cultures posturing at each other. That tea ceremony had been the second test, and that ranting elder had been the first. If Mark wasn’t mistaken, this lady with the staff was an actual elder. This was the Big Test.

  Their hover platforms stopped in front of the barge.

  Mark Called out, “Greetings. It is a pleasure to see you all again, and this new person. I am Mark. Who might you be?”

  Quark translated Mark’s words through speakers on his orb. The four elves each glanced from Mark to the floating orb, their ears twitching. Mark got the distinct impression that Quark was doing an alright job, and that they were marginally surprised.

  Mark was pretty sure that they didn’t like Quark talking, though, and that could be for any number of reasons. It was only a vague dislike, though. They might not even mention it.

  The staff lady spoke in English, “I am Enforcer Eria of the Central Spire. I have heard that you are seeking a wash of prismatic mana for your soul, to heal your injured Binding, and that your detectors pointed you this way. I would see this detector, and then I would take you to get a wash of prismatic mana, and then I would bring you back, and let you recuperate. In several days, after you wake, I would then escort you to the dreamways, to send you on your way. As a gesture of goodwill, I also give you this book for children on how to build a house. It contains a First Pebble, upon which the rest of the house can be built.” She lifted her staff and a small pink pillow floated out to Mark, carrying one small book. It was plain white, with golden filigree upon it. No words. It looked almost like a fancy, blank journal. “Only one, because only one of you is in danger of catastrophic soul collapse, and we do not know who your people are, so one is good enough. Should you perish on the way back, then you will be revived here, and we can see about getting you back safely.” She telekinetically pulled back the pillow, saying, “You use it by holding it while you sleep, and then you will fall into your soul, whereupon you can begin to build a house. I will put the book onto your body when you get your prismatic mana bath, and then I will deliver you back here, whereupon you can recuperate.

  “I invite you to come aboard now, but know that I wish for you all to be safely gone from this land within 3 days. Come aboard, and we will engage in minor talks until we are satisfied.”

  ‘We’, not including Mark and them.

  Mark nodded, and Quark moved the hoverplatform forward, onto the ship, as Mark asked, “Is there no need for translation magics anymore?”

  “All intentions are known through all communications while Peace is in the sky,” Enforcer Eria said, “Peace is stronger than the Speaking you attempt when you talk.”

  Mark stepped onto the ship, well aware that they were trying to get rid of him and his people in what could have been the nicest way possible. But also, these people lived in an endless churn of lives that they chose to live, and they had resources beyond any known capabilities of the Two Worlds, so maybe they were actually being quite rude? Hard to know. What Mark did know, however, was that a lot of this felt very Xerkonan in process and intent.

  Be gracious toward friends, be helpful even to your enemies if that will keep the peace, but be ruthless toward enemies of the world in every way it is possible to be ruthless. Mark did not want them to be ruthless, and he certainly didn’t want to be ruthless himself.

  So Mark went the other direction.

  Mark knelt onto the stone floor of Peace, kowtowed once, and looked up at Eria of the Central Spire, who looked quite amazed at that moment, and said, “We apologize wholeheartedly for any offense we might have caused bashing in the back way. Of course you can see the device we used to find this place. I wouldn’t want my paradise disturbed by outsiders, either, and I am sure you wish to devise a way to protect against our scanners. But our paradises are always disturbed, every day, and we truly did not think that elves, or anyone, was living in this land, so we came in anyway, and now we are here, and we are sorry. Please accept our apology.”

  Isoko picked up what Mark was putting down, and she kowtowed about 10 seconds after Mark did, keeping her head fully bowed the whole time.

  Sally… took about 15 seconds, and she did not seem comfortable doing that at all. She kowtowed, though.

  Mark looked up at Eria, watching her expression, feeling her surprised vector, and the vector of the others on the flying barge they called Peace. Myranial seemed almost tickled. Leeom nodded, as though Mark had done well. Kialo smirked, and leaned against the tree.

  “… Perhaps we can speak a bit more than simply sending you on your way… I suppose,” Eria said, fractionally less hostile. “Very well. You have earned yourself a fourth day. Please stand and join us at our table. We can see the device later.”

  Soon, Mark was sitting on a surprisingly sturdy pillow at the long table, on the long side facing the Dreadnought, with Isoko at his left and Sally at his right.

  Eria sat on the other side of the long table, toward the tree. Kialo sat across from Isoko and Leeom sat across from Sally. Fruits and small bread-things of all kinds abounded, with some truly decadent cakes of several tiers, layered with cream and sliced fruit. Big bottles of wine sat to the side, and Mark knew that those bottles would be opened if things went really, really well here, but from the starting point, he doubted things would go that well.

  For now, Myranial was doing another tea ceremony, and this time she went all out. An immense pot of tea boiled by itself, briefly, as Myranial scattered bits of tea leaves into the pot. She cut up slices of citrus to rim the edge of each tea cup with the taste of fruits as the tea steeped. She poured out the first steeping onto the roots of the tree that wound all across the barge, and then she began serving the first cups, expertly shifting her hands to move the saucers and cups first to Eria and Leeom, then to Mark, Isoko, and Sally, and then finally to Kialo and then herself.

  It took about 10 silent minutes.

  It was peaceful.

  Eria lifted her cup toward Mark, saying, “To the pleasures of life.”

  Mark gave his own toast, “Toward ensuring a better world for all.”

  They sipped.

  It was good.

  Eria said, “You say, ‘toward ensuring a better world for all’, but you barged in here and one of your men killed one of ours.”

  “Ah… that was a deep mistake,” Mark said. “Are they okay, now?”

  Eria frowned a little, then said, “They are fine. They chose to ignore that death, and so they only lost a few minutes of memories. This is no bother. But you had no way of knowing that. Your man truly did kill another man. You don’t know what a house is, and you don’t know how life works here. All you knew is that you were killing someone, therefore the guilt of the action still remains.”

  Mark countered, “We knew we were killing a monster in a strange land that had attacked us, which is a normal and good thing to do.”

  Eria scoffed. “You would go around killing things that you don’t understand!”

  And now it was Mark’s turn to frown. Mark said, “I’m not sure how you think the rest of reality works outside of your paradise, but monsters attack and kill people all the time out there. Killing the things that attack oneself is common sense.”

  Mark could have countered ‘your people attacked us’, but then Eria would just say that Mark was the invader here. So Mark did not choose that path. Besides, Mark was pretty sure that all paths in this conversation would lead to one place, because Eria had something to say, and she was just waiting for an excuse to get there.

  “This! This right here,” Eria said, looking at her companions, and then back to Mark. “This is why I want them gone as fast as possible. They are barbarians, unable to weave around the problems of life, so they cut and they cut until there are no problems left, except for a dead world and dead friends, and for all the things they did not cut to come back strong against them. Thus perpetuating a cycle of violence.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with cycles of violence, Eria,” Kialo commented. “Violence is quite fun.”

  Eria countered, “I’m talking about true violence, Kialo.” She looked at Mark, Isoko, and Sally, saying, “Outsiders bring true death, each and every time they are here. It might be one killing now, and Jasapi is fine, for a loose definition of ‘fine’, but how long until the barbarians decide to kill and take and kill and take, until they decide to take our very souls? A year? 100 years? It will happen, and today marks the starting point of another Great Horror.”

  Eria’s black staff floated menacingly behind her.

  Mark began calmly, “A great many people from my world deal with the tragedy of true death all the time. True violence. It might not be the same as yours, and I might not understand you completely, but I fear you have gotten the wrong impression of us as some sort of barbarians, which we probably are, to you. But we still cherish each other. We still have rules and laws and understandings between each other. One of our greatest heroes of the recent age is known to say that ‘people help other people’, and I have taken that to heart. Many of us humans have taken that message to heart. We are the same, in this regard, no matter how many years our realms have been ignorant of each other. That saying holds true even now. You are people, we are people, and people should help other people.

  “So how can we help you to understand that we’ve meant no disrespect, and we bring no true violence into your lands?”

  Eria was undeterred. She shook her head. “That’s how it always starts. A peaceful reaching of hands toward each other…” She lost some of her anger, and so she was not willing to finish that thought. Instead, she said, “I am glad to see that you speak these words so very truthfully, but the fact remains that today will mark another Great Horror somewhere down the line.”

  Mark countered, “Are there ways to prevent such a thing from happening, without violence?”

  Kialo had smirked until Mark added ‘without violence’, and then he snorted. Leeom almost snorted, too, which is why Mark had added ‘without violence’. Myranial was tense with a small frown. She was worried about violence, and she did not want it in her life at all.

  Eria said, “Perhaps, if you would have come in through the dreamways, then those of the Endless Court could have seen your issue and helped you and then solved it all that way. Quietly. But not anymore. The breaking of the realm lock ensures that we’re entering a time of troubles, and none of us want that.”

  “I want that,” Kialo said.

  Eria scoffed and told Kialo, “You are a stupid child right now. If you knew who you really were then you would have no lust for battle at all.”

  Kialo said, “I want to go with them back to wherever they came from.”

  “It’ll be a bunch of hovels!” Leeom called out, half ranting. “Hovels in the dirt, and half the time you won’t even get hot water from the springs! Not happening. You are not bringing that life to the realm, and you are not leaving here to join the barbarians for a romp in the mud, and especially not killing innocent animals. We should request a total realm wipe, Eria, after these people are gone, and forget this whole thing ever happened.”

  Sally scowled, saying, “You’re a bunch of demon-enthusiasts anyway, so we don’t want you on our Two Worlds, either.”

  The elves were stunned for a moment.

  Myranial asked, “What’s wrong with daemons?”

  “Wanna go for a round?” Kialo asked Sally, at the same time.

  Leeom also spoke out, saying, “They even name their realm as dirt!”

  Eria said, “No one is traveling with these people. We’re not mixing cultures right now.”

  But Mark focused on one thing in particular, that seemed like a vast difference between their cultures, asking, “What do you mean ‘innocent animals’? Those animals are meters-tall monsters that eat people and destroy everything and constantly attack our city walls, trying to break in, all the time. Some of those ‘innocent animals’ are as large or larger than our ship back there, and they come in and break the walls, if they can. Those large ‘animals’ are animals we call kaiju. They are all monsters. We fight those monsters in order to survive as a species.”

  That shut the elves up real quick. They looked stunned; stuck in disbelief.

  “You would kill a lizard if it found its way into your home?” Myranial asked, as though she couldn’t believe it.

  Mark said, “If that lizard breathed fire and sought to eat my neighbors, absolutely.”

  The elves were still stuck in disbelief. Leeom was about to go much further toward disbelief, to openly denouncing Mark’s words—

  But Mark continued, “Myranial spoke of this earlier, at the previous ceremony. She said that you could avoid the monsters by walking around them, or living around them. But while some of our cultures can abide by that, specifically The People who speak Waterpeople, who weren’t seen on our worlds until 80 years ago, when the Reveal happened and Earth reconnected to Daihoon, even The People need to use city walls. You, yourselves, use the ‘realm walls’. No one in their right mind would ever trust simple magics against the vagaries of monsters that are absolutely out to kill any people they find.” Mark looked to Sally for a moment, then back to the elves, as he said, “And Sally here speaks from a deep hatred of the demons, which we all share. I’m not sure who the ‘daemons’ are, but if they are the demons, then the daemons are a lot different from who they used to be.

  “To us, we have stories of how the demons categorized magic long ago, and how they were useful long ago. Several thousand years, at least. But now they play with humans, making Contracts with the purpose of gaining bodies to experience life again. Some humans can and do Contract with demons on the side of civilization, but the demons capitalize on that, all in order to kill and maim and turn us against each other. The demons in the mana send those monsters and the kaiju against our city walls all the time, in order to kill us all.

  “My friends and I are on this journey for many reasons. One of those reasons is to heal me. Another is to run from empires that have recently started trying to assassinate me, even though I have done everything I can to follow their rules and whatnot, but I am getting too powerful for them, and they cannot abide others having power.

  “Another main reason for this journey is to find more power for all of us, so that we can better battle the kaiju and the monsters that constantly plague our lands, that kill our people, that have overrun the Two Worlds and that seek to kill us, always. And so, we seek power. And now, we seek to finally heal my Binding, so that we can go back home and keep defending our lands from the aggressions of demons and other destructive forces.”

  Kialo approved of power-seeking behavior. Myranial did not. She was much more interested in the history, which was weird to Mark considering she and all the other elves had excised their true selves from their current selves. But whatever. Culture, and all that. Kialo was convinced that he was making the right decision to come with Mark and them back to the Two Worlds, though wherever he got the idea that Mark and them would allow such a thing… Well. Maybe Mark would? Hard to say.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  Elder Leeom seemed more and more unsure about everything.

  Enforcer Eria took Mark’s words at face value, though she did not want to. She asked, “Do you have any proof that this is how your worlds are? That the animals are… are monsters, and the daemons are now evil-corrupted-wretches?”

  Whatever translation magic was in the air did not quite know how to handle the pure vehemence Eria had let loose when she said that last word.

  Myranial gasped, and her reaction was much the same as the other two elves, though she actually gave voice to her thoughts, saying, “They cannot have been corrupted?”

  She used a much tamer word than Eria.

  Eria said, “Corruption does happen…” She went silent.

  Isoko had an idea, and she shared it, saying, “We have a few recordings of our lives and pasts. I believe, Mark, that we also have that recording about what a new mage should know, going into Mage Society? The ten-part series?”

  Quark said to Mark, “I have that recorded.”

  As Eliot also spoke into their ears, “I have that! I can send you a holoprojector.”

  From the way the elves’ ears twitched, they heard Eliot in their comms.

  As the other elves were unsure, Myranial said, “I would love to see recordings! Though I am unsure what you mean by ‘recordings’? Records, perhaps? Wouldn’t you listen to those, not see them?”

  Mark had no idea how they knew about ‘records’ but not about recordings. Mark barely knew about records, but he did know those things were like… 100 years old? Right? Something like that.

  Leeom asked Eria, “Peace is working, yes?”

  Eria told Leeom, “Peace is still working, yes.”

  Sally suddenly asked, “How old is your civilization? Where do you actually come from?”

  The elves had no idea what to make of that question.

  Mark explained, “We come from a planet named Earth. We evolved into being on that planet some hundreds of thousands of years ago, from monkeys that differentiated into people, and then mana showed up something like 12 to 15 thousand years ago. No one really knows. And then that mana made a facsimile of Earth, called Daihoon, and the Dragon King was around about 7,000 to 4,000 years ago, and then something big happened to him, the world broke in what we now call a Magefall, and the way between the Two Worlds broke. It happened so long ago that we don’t know the actual timelines at all. Perhaps you know better? Where do your people come from? How did your people originally learn to interact with humans?”

  “Like… originally, originally?” Myranial asked.

  “Sure?” Mark asked, unsure why she needed the clarification.

  Leeom scoffed. “Monkeys, huh.”

  Eria rolled her eyes at Leeom, and she made sure Leeom saw. Leeom scoffed again. Eria looked to Myranial. Kialo looked to Myranial, as well. Soon, everyone was looking to Myranial.

  Myranial was ‘the Librarian’, after all.

  Myranial looked at everyone else, and her face got a little red. “I’m not sure I want to speak about it.”

  Eria said, “I certainly don’t want to talk about it.”

  Everyone continued to look at Myranial.

  Myranial wrestled with herself for a good 20 seconds, and then she sighed out, and said, “Our Progenitors came to Earth… a long time ago. At least 5 generations ago. Maybe some of them are still around…” She looked up and out, saying, “And if they are listening, then they should come and talk about it themselves.”

  Silence.

  Wind in the trees.

  More silence.

  Kialo teased Myranial, “No such luck.”

  Myranial sighed, and then rapidly said, “A long time ago, some of our parents left Homeworld and came to a planet, stepping out of the dream and onto a moon in the sky over a lonely blue and green world that I assume you call Earth. Humans weren’t around, but they were on their way. Or the elves helped them come around. And then stuff happened. Friends, family, lovers, wars, reconciliation, children, separation, death, destruction, more friends, more family, more wars. And then separation. Too different to interact except in small doses. Too similar to not get swept up together when they do interact. And too bountiful to not be noticed by Others.

  “The Progenitors helped the humans to make a System, to ward off the Others.

  “And then we left the humans to it!

  “And that’s our deep history.”

  Mark was stunned, and not because of what was said, but instead because of everything that was left out. Myranial was clearly bullshitting to get through something uncomfortable as fast as possible. Sally openly scoffed, feeling the same way.

  Isoko commented, “That’s not enough information. You can’t tell us that the System was made to ward off Others and then not elaborate.”

  Mark thumbed at the sky behind them, where the Dreadnought had burst through the realm barrier, saying, “Is Big Silver one of the ‘others’?”

  The elves looked embarrassed.

  “... Well?” Mark asked, anger flickering.

  Eria said, “We don’t know about him.”

  Leeom said, “Could be someone’s defense against the others, right?”

  Eria shuddered.

  Leeom pulled back, deeply embarrassed. Was he wrong? Was he right?

  Who the fuck knew!

  Mark was not sure what was happening right now, but it made him angry. He contained his anger, not sure where to direct it, but that anger did slip into his voice as he said, “Please tell me that the problems of our Two Worlds are not because of the incompetence of the elves, and you all not wanting to fix the problems you caused.”

  Eria instantly, strongly said, “No one is at fault here! The Others have probably… corrupted…” Eria’s voice got softer as she continued, “Perhaps they have corrupted the System.”

  “What the FUCK does that even MEAN?” Sally said, more exasperated than furious, but fury was close at hand.

  Mark made a decision, saying, “Eliot. Please send in that holoprojector, so that these people can see the common things that mages should know before they join Mage Society, including the waterwheel of the Veil that powers the System, that the demons use to strip mana from everyone. It probably does a whole lot more than that, and these good people might know about it. A few history videos, too. Print up some books of history, if we got ‘em— Quark can help.” Mark said to Eria, “I would like to leave all of that with your people so you can see it as your leisure. I would like to get that prismatic bath now, take a long nap, and perhaps, in the future, our people can meet and speak of a great many things in a much less hostile and ignorant manner.”

  Eria rapidly said, “I still need to see that detector.”

  “Eliot,” Mark said, “Rip out the Storm Prism and send it here, along with the technology needed to operate it— along with the books and videos and make it good enough for them to be able to look at for a while, to share, please.”

  Eliot spoke up from the hoverplatforms sitting behind them, so that everyone could hear, “I’ll take about 30 minutes.”

  Eria announced, “Sounds like we wait, then.” And then she relaxed, and gestured to the spread before them. With a lot less anxiety and worry in her vector, she said, “Let us enjoy the joys of those who enjoy creating for consumption.”

  Mark ate his first bite of crisp, crunchy, apple tart, and he forgot all about his problems for a brief moment. It felt like food. It tasted like food. And Mark really, really liked good food. Who didn’t like food! Crazy people, that’s who. And Mark was certainly not crazy, nor going crazy.

  He was just eating elf food, in a hidden elven realm, made by people who were either running from something, hiding from something, or just desirous of easier lives.

  Civilians.

  … And in that moment, with that thought, everything made a whole lot more sense. The elves were civilians. Mark was 50/50 on whether Eria was a civilian or not, but if she never fought monsters, if she never had to actually fight for her life, or for the lives of others, then she was a civilian. Even cops were civilians, after all.

  Kialo struck Mark as someone who lived a life that was more intense than the Hero/Villain Program, but less intense than a real fight, with any real enemies… Or maybe Mark was misreading that.

  Leeom was a teacher.

  Myranial was a librarian.

  Sure, they had some part of themselves purposefully locked away because they didn’t want to be those people. And that part of them might be truly dangerous.

  But these people, right here?

  Civilians.

  They talked about nothings; on how the cake was baked, on how the fruit were harvested. They named the fruits with words like ‘redberry’ and ‘groundmelon’, and when they named the realm, they just said ‘the realm’. The names were simple, descriptive. Mark imagined that these things had had larger names in the past, but those old, real names were not being shared, and Mark and his team did not ask deeper in those directions.

  And then Leeom asked them all, “You all cleave with the Assistants, don’t you?”

  Eria, Mryanial, and Kialo both twitched their ears. Eria looked at the team, and said, “Do you?”

  Mark asked, “I’m guessing you’re talking about the divine entities that help the System and the people in the System by granting powers through the Chosen System?”

  Mryanial eyed them funnily. “Divine? No… But? I suppose so?”

  Leeom said, “I believe that’s right. But none of you have their touch upon you, except in faroff ways.”

  Mark said, “They helped us all gain their real Bindings, most of us as a part of this trip itself. We’re all practically paladins, if you know that word.”

  Three elves gasped.

  But Leeom happily announced, “I knew it! They’re pilgrims! No wonder they found us!” He happily got up and grabbed a bottle of wine—

  “Leeom, no,” Eria said, “I mean… Yes. But he’s sick. He can’t have any right now. We’ll do that later.” And then she scoffed at Mark, directly and said, “You should have led with that.”

  Mark had a surreal moment, and then he exclaimed, “How the heck was I supposed to know that mattered!”

  “They should have told you?” Eria said, not sure why Mark was being weird right now.

  Mark felt dumbfounded.

  Isoko said, “Eliot. Give us a Reveal history video, too, please. Include the parts about how there were no gods 100 years ago.”

  Tartu softly mumbled something that Mark did not catch. Maybe the elves did? Who knew!

  Eliot spoke up from the hoverplatforms, “Almost ready, and yeah, I’m including one of those.”

  Mark said, “I’m sure Quark has one,” as he made a floating black screen to the side, adding, “Keep it coming, Eliot, but we can do this one right now. Quark, please? Pick a relevant video about the Reveal. Thank you.”

  Quark flickered silver onto Mark’s floating screen, expanded to fill the rectangle, and began playing a video.

  The video started off with a boom of light and fire, and a city street exploding as monsters tore right out of a rift that appeared in the middle of some ancient city with tall skyscrapers, open roads, and now it had civilians running and screaming for their lives. People died in gory splashes as the title card rolled onto the screen and the narrator spoke about the Reveal. Cut to the moon, to an image of the lunar lander, and to that guy stepping off onto the grey dust of the surface. The illusions shattered. The black sky peeled back, stars replaced with dark prismatic auroras, and then came more narration and less direct horrors, though that stuff still happened a lot.

  Mark hadn’t ever seen this one before, but Isoko had. She nodded with approval, and then she went back to eating her giant cake. Mark and Sally continued to eat their pastries, too, and sip their hot tea.

  The elves were equally horrified, entranced, and sobered.

  Myranial gasped again, when she saw ‘70 years ago’, saying, “Oh so soon! You have lived through so much!”

  Isoko said, “This was before our time, but it still colors everything to this day.”

  The elves paused— Something exploded on the screen, and most of them turned back toward the short movie.

  But Myranial asked, “How… it is rude to ask. But I have to… How old are you three?”

  “All of us are 19,” Mark said.

  It was like all of them suddenly touched a red hot stove.

  Gasps, outcries of horrors of child soldiers, and more.

  And then Sally said, “A hundred years ago, and for the last several thousand years, the System used to forcefully induct everyone on Daihoon into the Tutorial at age 12. The parents usually didn’t even name their kids before that age, before they survived the Thresher. Many children were had and then thrown into orphanages that took care of them, none of them getting names at all.” With real anger in her quiet voice, Sally said, “Countless millions of kids born and raised into orphanages, just so that there might be a chance of more humanity later, and so that the parents didn’t have to see them or know them. Most of those kids died. If they came out of the Thresher alive, at age 12, then they were ‘real people’. That’s what the demons of the System did before the Gods of the New Pantheon came around and fixed it as much as they could. All while you people, you elves, abandoned the problem you created, discarding your trauma into books on shelves and so you can pretend to be new people and forget about the bad things in life.”

  Myranial had wet eyes. Tears fell from Eria’s eyes, while Kialo and Leeom were deeply sobered.

  “They’re civilians, Sally,” Mark said, cutting her off before she got too heated. “They want to be civilians. They’re civilians. Maybe they can help, but not without knowing how to help. That’s all we can truly hope for here.”

  Sally sighed.

  Silence.

  Myranial softly said, “Please… continue the illusion. I want to know everyth… I want to help.”

  Eria did not agree with that; she felt for the humans, but she still wanted the humans gone, now more than ever. Leeom was getting sick to his stomach, but he was holding it back, too.

  Kialo withheld a desire.

  “Thank you, Myranial,” Mark said, and then he nodded toward the screen.

  Quark played on.

  Mark wasn’t sure what he enjoyed more, at that moment. Horrifying elves with the facts of his normal life, and the lives of the people of Earth and Daihoon, and maybe causing them to act to help in whatever ways they could… or the food. The food was really good.

  Sally wanted them to see some basic information about demons, next, and so Mark showed them that.

  They were even more horrified.

  When Eliot’s delivery flew over and settled down onto Peace, it resembled a command center that had been ripped out of a room and then the pieces stuck back together so that it could work on its own. The Storm Prism rested in the middle of it all, on a pillar.

  Eria took one look at it, and then looked at Mark, and said, “That’s a standard Seeker? You came in here with a standard Seeker? How?”

  Myranial was pale with what she was seeing on the screen about the demons, but she still managed to say, “I believe someone on the ship has Fated business here, Eria. That is why they are here at all.”

  The word ‘Fate’ reminded Mark about the Three Fates of Xerkona, which had helped humanity through the Reveal by telling people what they needed to do to survive. And that reminded him about that ‘Inheritor of Xerkona’ nonsense that he had heard the other day, from Thrashtalon. Which then reminded him about Grax ‘adopting him’ under the System.

  Mark wondered what was going to happen next, even as he lined up the words in his mind, and then he spoke them aloud.

  “One of the evil Assistants of the System named me as the Inheritor of Xerkona, which is one of the Three Great Empires of Daihoon, including Okuana and Aluatha. At that same time, some maybe-elf legally adopted me as his son under the System. This was about 5 days ago. It was a confusing time, and I still don’t accept any of it. But that happened.” Mark asked, “What do you all think of that?”

  A moment passed.

  And then Myranial, Kialo, and Leeom all pulled their invisibilities back over their bodies, rapidly leaving the encounter.

  Eria stood up, the world warbling around her a little as she wanted to go invisible, but she had a job to do. She said, “This is too much. I’m getting you healed, putting you on your ship, and sending you away.”

  Mark stood up. “Okay. Let’s go.”

  Kialo peeked out from behind his invisibility, almost said something, but then he rapidly put his invisibility back.

  Eria said, “Please… accept the hospitality of the food here, for your friends and… others. And take back your scanner and other… things. We do not need them.” She waved her black staff and a few circular meters of Peace’s white stone floated into the air. She stepped onto it, not looking directly at Mark anymore, saying, “Let us be off, please.”

  Sally said, “I’m not leaving him alone with you.”

  “Me either,” Isoko said.

  Eria instantly, strongly said, “I swear on my life that I will let no harm come to him, but you two are not welcome… this whole thing is… not welcome. I wish for it to be over and done with soon… so if you must come, then you may come.” She waved her staff and the platform extended. “I am close to escaping with my life and telling others to deal with you, so please do not extend your stay here any further than it has already gone… Inheritors, my stars.”

  Mark stepped onto the platform, beginning to ask, “What is an Inheritoooo—”

  His words were stolen from him as they moved across the sky in less than a blink of an eye, passing through a prismatic barrier, and then slamming into prismatic airspace.

  Light thrummed the world straight ahead.

  It was power overwhelming, and Mark felt himself melt, disintegrate, and then rebuild all at the same time. His insides went wild as everything inside of him spilled outside. Adamantium poured out in black rivers, and then came the blood. Where the black stopped and where the red began was anyone’s guess.

  Eria grumbled, “I almost wish this would have killed you. It would have made things so much simpler. But no. You had to be telling the truth… Well get on in there, ‘nephew’. Be rebuilt properly. Or do you need some help to get in there?”

  Mark stared at the glowing prismatic pulse in front of him.

  It was one of the many hearts of the elven realm, beating with a pulse that echoed into Mark’s chest. It glowed too brightly. It burned away Mark’s adamantine, but it wasn’t hot. It was a flensing. A cleansing.

  Like forging flakes falling off of a red hot piece of iron, Mark felt his adamantium peel away.

  He felt lighter.

  Mark needed more, but it was all he could do to stand, and yet, as he reached...

  Mark did not step off of the platform at all, and the platform didn’t move, but somehow Mark floated into the sky, into the heart of the elven realm. Mark did not lose track of any time at all, but time did go a little more wonky.

  ‘Ah, darn?’ was about all Mark could think, and even that was difficult.

  His legs turned to putty, twisting and black, his chest splashed apart, revealing nothing, and then his chest splashed apart again, revealing a heart. Mark’s eyes tumbled free from his skull, and suddenly Mark was just himself.

  A spot of absolute black, a heartbeat, drinking in the light.

  The world pulsed into him, and Mark pulsed back—

  And then he was on his back, on the platform, looking up at Eria who stood to the side, eyes forward, not looking at Mark at all. The sky flowed past them, and then Eria looked down. She nodded a little, then she set that house book down onto Mark’s chest.

  Mark felt himself twist a little.

  Something changed.

  A spot of gold plunked into his vision, and then faded.

  And then Mark felt warmth, and softness. Blankets surrounded him. He was in a bed, in a wooden room. Lights shone overhead, and Mark’s eyes were way too heavy, but he couldn’t sleep yet. Not yet. Black scales fell away from his skin, revealing pale skin underneath, and then Isoko was there, standing over him, saying soft things, gripping his hand. Sally stood to the other side, tears in her eyes. Mark reached with his other hand, and then she was there, holding his hand.

  Mark felt something better than softness.

  He felt safe.

  Ahhh.

  He was safe.

  They were safe.

  Everyone was safe.

  “I’m glad you’re all okay,” Mark mumbled.

  And then Mark let go, and tumbled into dreams.

  - - - -

  The chair was uncomfortable, but Isoko supposed anything she sat on would be uncomfortable right now, as she looked upon Mark, in his bed. At least Mark wasn’t a giant puffball of adamantium right now, killing everything and everyone around him. That had been the worst case scenario.

  This scenario?

  No one knew what to make of it.

  Mark laid in bed, and he looked almost like his old self. But he wasn’t. The scans had already confirmed that much. He was not flesh and bone… well. He was. The scans confirmed that, too. But he was also kinda… melty, when his eyes flickered too fast under his eyelids. He flaked adamantium off of his ‘perfectly normal looking’ skin, too. That adamantium then kinda disintegrated and vanished, but it was really flowing back into Mark’s body.

  All of Mark’s metal was inside of him now, settling into his bones, and into his astral body, or at least that’s what Eliot was saying. Quark was gone. Re-absorbed into Mark. Everyone hoped he came back, when Mark woke up.

  Mark had already destroyed two beds.

  Everyone was still worried about a puffball scenario. And so Mark’s recuperation house was positioned on a platform that stuck out from the front of the ship by about 200 meters, in a very sturdy house that he had destroyed once already. It was dangerous to be that close to him, which is why Isoko was actually located in the depths of the Dreadnought, and using a VR helmet and projector to appear to be near him. Some animatronics and some might-as-well-be-magic-holograms from Eliot, and Isoko was able to stay by his side, as much as anyone could stay by his side.

  It felt wrong to be with him like this.

  But as Isoko watched Mark, something flickered around him, and Isoko’s readout of her connection started throwing red lights everywhere, and then the connection broke.

  “… Ah, fuck,” Isoko said, staring at a bunch of red warning lights.

  “Replacement proxy on the way,” Eliot said, already on it. “You want a break, Isoko?”

  Isoko pulled off her helmet for a moment, and just stared into space. “… Any idea what’s happening to him, yet?”

  Isoko, Sally, and Eliot were in the command center. Tartu and Andria were talking magic in the other room. Lola was praying upstairs, and David was on high alert, looking for elves. But ever since Mark mentioned ‘Inheritor’, the elves had vanished from sight, and from sensors. Derek was out there, being polite as he moved around, looking for people. He still occasionally reported people looking at him. But they all vanished fast when they noticed him noticing them.

  Eliot said, “Not yet; not really.”

  Sally said, “Andria still swears that he’s absorbing adamantium into his astral body, like a Mithrilkinetic, but Tartu says that is impossible and violates a bunch of known facts about adamantium. So they’re debating it. Tartu hopes that Andria wins the argument, but he’s not convinced she has any basis for her theory except ‘elves are magic’.”

  Eliot nodded a little, saying, “Replacement proxy is in position.”

  Sally made a gimme motion with her hands, saying, “You go take a walk. Go talk to the nerds.”

  It had been four hours already… Isoko handed over the helmet and got up to go take a walk.

  Sally sat down in the chair, and then put the helmet on, and Isoko knew that the hologram now looked like her, sitting beside Mark. Isoko wanted to be there when Mark woke up, but… But this was how it had to be.

  Isoko frowned, saying, “He can feel that we’re not near him.”

  “He knows we’re here, though,” Sally said, sitting and not sitting beside Mark. “He looks peaceful.”

  “Except for the melty bits.”

  “Yeah… No idea what that’s about— Oh shit. He just melted off onto the floor.”

  “He won’t get through the forcefield without actually poking at it, so…” Eliot’s hopeful voice trailed off as he looked at monitors. “… Okay. That’s… dangerous.”

  Isoko watched Mark through monitors as he spread out on the bed, like a cloying flesh-slime, ripping it apart— Mark suddenly splashed back together onto the bed, which was now broken as fuck, along with the entire animatronic hologram proxy. Sparks flew, and didn’t seem to bother Mark at all.

  “He’s fine,” Eliot said, “Didn’t get past the floor. Sending a new bed and another proxy.”