The Fool 26

As they jogged to catch up to the racing boy, Orison thought, "It's a bit more rustic. The buildings are made of this 'living' stone stuff instead of crystal but it's the same layout and design. It's a First Family floating city!"

As they neared the 'Council House' a holograph appeared and said in a pleasant voice, "Welcome back, subject E, shaman's familiar. Please follow the light strip for decontamination and healing."

As soon as a track of soft yellow lights appeared on the floor, Heath took off like he was trying to catch the moment they appeared.

They went to follow but the hologram interrupted. "Honored guests, the central building and its inner structures are prohibited. Please take leisure at the guest house... currently under construction... or enjoy fine dining at... currently under construction. While you wait for your audience, you may also utilize the exercise and recreation facility... currently under construction."

Unable to help himself, Orison laughed. The hologram's sensor turned towards him and the pleasantly bland woman switched for a military uniformed man. "Chief Engineer Cantrip, your presence is needed in... all red labeled zones... all amber labeled zones... all yellow labeled zones, as soon as possible."

"He is required nowhere because access is denied to all yellow through red zones," an authoritative woman's voice said.

"Apologies, Custodian Ezra. Orison is an official citizen level First Family member with emergency bureaucratic authority. Your request cannot be completed," the pleasant prerecorded woman's voice said.

"That wasn't a request, you stupid operating system. I thought that all but the green and blue zones were off limits," the authoritative woman's voice said in irritation.

The pleasant OS's voice replied, "Apologies Custodian. Your clearance level only allows access to public and residential areas."

An wavy black haired woman with olive skin rich and rich, brown eyes walked out of the Council house holding Heath's hand. The boy was ridiculously happy as he pulled her over to Cray and grabbed for the archer's hand with his free one. The man and woman looked at each other warily for a second before looking down at the boy with different shades of helpless indulgence.

Addressing them, she said, "Since the stupid system has already introduced me and I've been waiting for Orison since a few days ago, who are the two of you."

The young mage interrupted. "Introduce each other, not yourselves. I never got around to telling you about some things. I'll need to do that soon."

Ezra rolled her eyes but didn't contradict. After the awkward formalities were over, she lead them to her 'apartment' in the Council House. While everyone ordered a meal off the wall mounted screen's menu with novel delight, she looked them all over.

Turning to Orison, she said, "So, Osmos Nine recognizes you. Well, then forget what I said about not being allowed into the inner sanctum. See what you can do about getting this b*tch working again."

The young mage said, "Um, okay but even if I do, its not like any of us will get to enjoy it. It'll just boot us off and go to find a 'real' First Family member."

She went to say something and then paused, smiling widely. "Holy sh-oot! I don't have to a-butt kiss the First Family name anymore!? That green juice I drew from 'E' over here actually broke the imprint!"

She reached over and ruffled Heath's hair. Even Cray would get an annoyed hiss for doing that but all she got was narrowed eyed tolerance. "H-heet"

Pointing to himself, he repeated, "eye me Heet. Yoo E Shama."

Chuckling, she pointed at the others. "Who are they?"

He looked at her finger and then the rest of them. "Teet E Shama, Pa Kay..."

Seeing the kid looked stumped while pointing at him, Cole had Cray tell the boy, remembering what Orison had said earlier, as Ezra smiled faintly.

A look of embarrassed aggravation was on Cray's face as the young mage said, "How was I supposed to know that saying it just one time would make it stick? At least part of your name is in yours. He's pretty much calling me the candy dispensing healer."

Ezra looked at him sharply. "You have junk food!? Gimme now!"

Chuckling nervously, Orison handed the last few pieces out of the opened bag to her. There was another, higher quality one and a small bag of sugar but those were his treasure and he would be carefully rationing those out. He would have been more stingy but they had been preserved inside a pocket of healing mud for so long, now that they weren't everything was half-life jumping every couple of days.

Though he tried not to notice, Ezra had a strangely puffy panty line for a woman of her age. Digging through the pin storage item, he dumped half of the feminine products onto the table. Although it wasn't the best of deliveries, she still scooped them up with a cheerful face.

"You're like an evil genie. Couldn't you have, I don't know, done a discrete side moment!? Either way, thank you... Where did you get them?" she said.

"Some rusalki didn't need them anymore. There's not a department store nearby or anything like that, if your asking," Orison said woodenly.

While they enjoyed their bland but nutritionally balanced meal, she talked about how systems began failing a few hundred years ago. She was the last child of a custodian and half sisters with the last adopted First Family member. To grant her access to the last functioning set of automated materialization machines, her half sister granted her the job of 'custodian' and a comfort companion before life sustaining functions failed in her stasis pod.

Heath and Ezra had been spending most of their time sleeping over the past 800 years or so. Heath could come and go for some reason but Ezra couldn't leave the city's phase field or she would dust. Orison explained that the 'Gates of Reincarnation' should have reset her maximum reality law allotted time. That was, until she explained that she hadn't died and been 'reborn'.

Taking just enough time to send Heath to investigate a strange energy anomaly, she had went back into stasis. She had been determined on outlasting the undead empire and seeing people return while she was still young enough to be a part of it. When Heath had been caught in the reincarnation bomb, the city itself had intercepted and used that energy for something else even though she was compelled to draw it.

Looking embarrassed at the looks of sympathy they were giving her, she said, "What? Do you think I've lost my screws since my sister passed? For me, it's just been long enough to get over the grief, a year or so. As far as being trapped in the city... It's all I know anyway. Besides, if you can get her up and running, I can cash in my citizen credits. There's some stuff still left in the depository that can probably fix my little problem."

Orison said, "Don't lay too much hope on that. There's a shell display over the actual inventory. When things were going south, the evacuating members took everything that the system would let them. That's why family servants and other 'fresh blood' integration breeders were the only people left here.

"Did you check the logs for birthrates after the evacuation? Fertility inhibitors were placed in your food. The closer the system came to exhausting its remaining resources, the fewer people were capable of having children."

With watery eyes, Ezra said, "Are-Are you trying to depress me to death?"

Orison said, "No. I only want you to have realistic expectations. I'd rather you dislike me for telling the truth than hate me for telling you a lie."

Sensing an emotional episode in the making, he added, "I'm going to go check the engineering room. I think I'll spend the night there. Don't follow me down, guys. Defense mechanisms are still mostly operational."

Wandering down into the bowels of the grounded floating city, eventually he came to a sealed door. "So, do you want me to see what I can fix, or do you want me to stay out? Your clueless clone upstairs has me a bit confused."

A tired and ancient feeling psychic signal pinged off the young mage's own weak, reawakened talent. "Proceed but prepare yourself. If you show signs of distress or fear, my instincts may dictate my actions regardless of desire."

Sending the command, bolts and locks unfastened and slid into their waiting position. As he walked, he passed four more 'Ezra's in tanks along with a couple of other different men and women who shared a close family resemblance. Entering a large chamber area, within gloom two dinner plate eyes made of dark tinted indigo spirit essence stared back at him twenty feet from the floor.

Under spirit sight, Orison took in the outline of a skeletal dragon with a pulsing purple mass of essence in its chest. "A dracolich. If Hunter was here, he'd be beside himself in awe and fawn over you like you've never been fawned over before."

"In centuries past, I was worshiped as a god. Your claim has scant validity," the ancient voice said in mild remembrance of amusement.

Orison replied, "But have any of your worshipers looked at you like you were the s*xiest damn thing they ever saw while telling you how awesome you are sheerly for the purpose of making sure YOU knew."

The ancient psychic voice chuckled mirthlessly. "Surround yourself with fanatics and lunatics long enough and there isn't much of the extremities of mortal possibility that you will not see. My current state does not afford me the ability to enjoy diversions of that nature any longer.

Lowering its massive head til it was at eye level with him, the undead dragon projected, "But enough of this. Tell me what you desire to allow me to claim the horde I have guarded for centuries."

The young mage sighed, "It would be more constructive for you to tell me what you wanted. Just because I can reach it doesn't mean I can get it all. Any attempt to forcefully seize more than a certain amount could possibly end with the city self destructing, taking us all with it."

The dracolich's eyes blazed fiercely. "Then we are at an impasse. I cannot see the real... invoice of supplies. I also cannot trust you to honor any arrangement we might make to the utmost of your ability. You will steal what you want while I receive only that which you do not."

Orison sighed and said, "Osmos Nine, I need to share current available inventory with the custodian for organizational purposes."

A secret transmission popped up on his screen. Between the memories of his time on Osomo and the trainers information he had absorbed, it wasn't difficult for him to whip together a simple interface 'spark' from the few motes he had remaining with the OS's help. The real difficulty was keeping the incoming essence transmissions and said OS from seizing and 'repairing' them properly.

From the interface screen, he chose what would be visible to the creature. In truth, there wasn't much to begin with. And the few items he was most concerned about the dracolich seeing, Osmos Nine didn't want it seeing either.

The creature read over the list and laid back down to block the way. "There are no vials of fantasia, phoenix downs or angel tears... I will wait until this place collapses into dust and sift through it myself in a few hundred years."

Orison said, "Thank you for telling me what you want. Trade between operating systems is atrociously expensive but the one reachable probably has one of those."

The dracolich paused before raising up. "I want as many as you can get."

That confused the young mage but it wasn't as if he cared to understand the inner workings of a lich in any variety. Before he became any more distracted by errant thoughts in his tired state, he soldiered on to the 'repository'. Within was all the souls tied to the floating city and its sparks.

The plan was to flush all those souls to Osomo in exchange for some things he wanted. Trying to use his own gifts to take as many unclaimed sparks and the few neat artifacts he could was icing on top. He was getting ready to sign the manifest and flush the souls to the shifting coordinates slate he had in his space when he paused.

Behind him, down the hall, the dracolich was becoming agitated when it sensed his hesitation. Orison quickly explained that he may have thought of a way to get a whole lot more, even if it was just a maybe. A 'whole lot more' sounded great to the creature who couldn't come in anyway, no matter how agitated it got.

He focused on the Entanglement Key. Its low hum of protest turned a bit higher pitched as Orison reached out to Wick. It might have been when 'Al' was riding along with 'the boy' but there was a lot more of Al's soul stuff in there when Wick was their passenger instead of Duran's. Since Wick was an incredibly soul sensitive entity with mysterious properties itself, he didn't see where giving contact a solid try would hurt much of anything and that tree could play Osomo like a fiddle.

Contact was only the lightest touch before his key became so dangerously weak, it began wavering in and out of existing. That was enough for Wick to reach back and grab hold, stabilizing their connection. The next moment, the world around Orison shredded to reveal a sadder, much more bleak one.

He felt the edges of his pattern grow fuzzy before snapping back as himself. Wick had spared him the sight of whatever it was his soul had been physically riding around in. It must not have been pretty because a lot of the additional spiritual essence he had to burn to fuel Wick's arrival had came from the 'real' memories he had since he arrived on this world.

Of course, Wick wasn't physically there but a giant 'impression' of the tree was. It gently and lovingly mauled the undead gathered in a circle around where the young mage stood in a overwhelmingly lethal wave of strangely neutral but undeniably pure and even 'holy' essence. It was an exceedingly kind being that 'loved' ALL undead to DEATH.

While a stream of dark souls streamed towards the tree, a steady trickle of golden essence poured into Orison. As the young mage looked around desperately for sight of his companions, he saw the three standing stock still in their fully activated suits. Nearby, three smoking bodies moaned weakly. Behind the blasted remains of lesser undead a dragon made of bone gave out one last weak roar of protest before a phylactery the size of a garbage can shattered, releasing one large and many smaller souls.

Since he had a spiritual connection with Cray, he could share the grace that he somehow knew would be able to restore the man and make him whole again but had no idea what to do about Hunter and Cole. Sensing his dilemma, the 'holy' tree pulled the souls out of the standing suits and drew them to its real body through the impression, assuring the young mage that they'd be given a fresh start and a fighting chance elsewhere.

From within the impression of Wick, an impression of Duran emerged. He was barely recognizable. Tall, sturdy and heroic, the man he had become showed no sign of the taciturn and unsure boy he had once been.

"I would spare this from you if I could, as your need is great. But it is the balance and I would be doing you no favors shifting the balance of indebtedness to me," Duran said before every piece of equipment belonging to every enemy slain was either destroyed or consumed by the impression.

Before he disappeared back into Wick, Duran added, "I have not forgotten your kindness and generosity. Nor am I under any illusion of who was responsible for it. Wick feels the same. Until we meet again, I will hold faith that your future days will become brighter, Orison."

With a flash of gentle light, night surrounded once more but the moon was clear and the field was wide and relatively free of obstruction, save for the occasional large shard of stone or tree. The major exception being where the young mage stood. In a circle of standing stones, an ominous red veined pillar jutted towards the sky as if Hell itself was giving the finger to the loftier heavens.

He immediately moved away from it and beyond the circle. A pervasive whisper promised anything desired. Orison had no doubt that the cost would always exceed the goods. And even then, would likely have ruinous 'side-effects'.

Another weak, sobbing moan broke out from the smoking bodies reminding him that the situation wasn't quite resolved yet. After piecing together what he could, the young mage felt he had pinpointed the moment things had gone disastrously wrong. When he had destroyed the overly prepared vampire lord, he had a blank spot, even within the false memories.

Some things he knew he had done in reality. 'Snow White' had controlled him and he had erased his true name from the circle and from her mind. He had NOT won the battle with the phylactery soul in his space. Fortunately he was 'inedible' or his fate wouldn't have been as kind as to find himself placed in some poor corpse's shell. The best he could figure, the man had taken his body and then used the last vial of fantasia 'Snow White' had taken from him to return to devilish vampire status.

The rest was as clear as mud but one thing was certain. His companions had paid dearly for it. It was time to pick up the pieces and insure three 'friends' found themselves IN some.