Ar'Kendrithyst

Chapter 159, 1/2

Wrath filled Erick’s brain and chest and forearms like he was being stabbed by knives made of ice.

He sat up in his chair. He was inside his yurt. Poi sat upon his own bed, to the side, looking away from Erick, seeming as if he had failed to do something important.

With a level voice, Erick told Poi, “I need you to tell me why you look guilty.”

Teressa was outside, sitting in her large chair on the front porch. At Erick’s tone, she whipped her head around and got up. In a second, she was inside the yurt. Jane followed her inside with a suddenly concerned look upon her face. Nirzir was still inside the yurt, but she was just reading. When she heard the tension in Erick’s voice it hit her like the sudden breaking of glass; she had no idea what was going on, but she was worried.

Poi breathed. He said, “You never spoke to me about your talk with Linxel and you offered the man confidentiality, which he took and you honored, so I had no way to tell you that I thought it was a very, very bad idea to have a break in your conversation with that man.”

There were other words Poi was not saying, but Erick could guess at those. Perhaps, he knew that there were face stealers among Green Grass, for the Mind Mages would certainly know of all that. It’s just that the Mind Mages were also sworn to never reveal what they know to others.

Erick felt crushed in an entirely new way. “You should have just told me, Poi.”

“I cannot.” He softly said, “I cannot tell you what goes on in the minds of others, or what I think might happen, based on that knowledge.” A bit stronger, he said, “Confidentiality is sacred. Even you know this. I had to pretend like I saw nothing.” Poi said, “But I can say that based on what you are seeing now, that the individual confidentiality you promised Linxel is no longer applicable, for even if his face has not been stolen, Linxel might be soul fucked. Perhaps this is some ploy? Someone wants you to attack the potential face stealer and show that your promise of non-violence is a lie. Perhaps, at the very least, they want you to show that you will break confidentiality whenever it suits you.”

Erick already knew everything that Poi was saying, but sometimes the words needed to be said for the others in the area. Jane certainly heard what he was saying; she focused on a smaller part of Poi’s words, though.

Jane looked at Erick, her words filled with dangerous undertones, “The warlord you met was Hunted?”

Erick quickly explained to everyone, “His soul was dark blue and now it is sky blue, and [Telepathy] returns static. He might have had a traumatizing recent event, but I don’t think so.” Erick’s gaze shifted back to the Ophiel still floating near the Twin Rocks, still only a stone’s throw from the yurt of the man in question. “When I last saw Linxel, with the dark blue soul, he spoke of how he did not want to uncover the face stealers in his midst, for there were dragons in there too, for sure. I spoke of how I would help him and other True Traveler clans to counter-Hunt those evils, and then he said he would need some time to talk to some people. And now… He does not want my help to counter-Hunt. He is moving to block my attempt to join in the debates at Ooloraptoor. And now, [Telepathy] to Linxel returns static, and his soul is a different color and—” Erick stopped talking. He was repeating himself.

Jane said, “They had to know you would see something.”

Nirzir rapidly said, “Surely they knew. Just like with the Headmaster, Erick’s known abilities are highly documented. Everyone knows you have all the normal mana sensing abilities and others besides, and dragons are not stupid unless they’re near other dragons. Whoever did this had to know you would see something.”

Teressa stared daggers at nothing in particular, then she turned and asked, “Could someone be using hostages against this guy? One of his family members killed and the other held under danger, in order to make him change his mind? I would think a warlord would be hardened against such soul shifts, but it could happen.”

… That was a very good point.

Now that a few minutes had passed, and he had talked to everyone else, he had gained some perspective on the situation. Perhaps it wasn’t as bad as it appeared to be? Maybe? Erick breathed deep, then let it all go. He was glad he had taken a moment. Now, he knew what he needed to do.

Jane saw his sudden resolve. She said, “Be subtle, dad. But be vicious.”

“That is the new plan. Thank you, everyone.” Erick added, “Be on the watch for some sort of nearby attack. Ophiel is already on high alert.”

With hard-edged feathers and narrowed eyes, Ophiel fluffed himself upon the perch. Every Ophiel everywhere whistled a dangerous guitar thrum; He was ready for shit to hit the fan. Everyone else began to get ready, too. Conjured armor and weapons. Spellworks of various kinds.

Nirzir’s white skin turned pearlescent, as she tentatively asked, “What should I do?”

“I would like you on anti-attack protocol.” Erick said, “Don’t expend power trying to destroy; try to preserve all the life you can.”

Nirzir looked suddenly relieved. She nodded.

“And one last thing, just to check.” Erick looked to Poi. “Would the Mind Mages ever be willing to forgo their silence and help end this worldwide threat of face stealers and Hunters?”

Everyone looked to Poi.

Poi said, “I have been told that we tried that. Historically. It did not work out for us.”

“I wish to be briefed on that later.”

Poi paused, then he slowly nodded.

Erick turned his gaze back toward Clan Green Grass.

- - - -

Barely five minutes had passed since Erick had first seen that Linxel was gone.

‘Linxel’ had vanished into his yurt three minutes ago. A few clansmen hung out on Linxel’s porch, sitting by the entrance to the warlord’s yurt. Those clansmen now looked Ophiel’s way, wondering why he was still here. Had any of those people been replaced since Erick was last here? Maybe.

Erick’s three Ophiel and his chairs and perch remained where they were. His half-feathered lightform self had remained ‘standing’ on the ground beside his chair, unmoving since Linxel’s public proclamation.

And what an announcement that had been!

Clan Green Grass was a clan of several smaller groups that all traveled separately; just like Clan Pale Cow. This particular group of people camped out at Twin Rocks numbered around 200, which was an average number. According to Erick’s oversight of their whole compound, about half of the people were outside of their yurts, doing something. Eating, cooking, milking cows, making leather goods; whatever. Most of those people were now watching Erick and Linxel’s yurt. About twenty of those people were looking at Erick with disguised hate in their eyes, wishing for him to go away.

Some people noticed that each Ophiel held spiky silver shields around their tiny sunforms, and they knew what they were seeing; Erick could tell by the quiet panic happening in their eyes and in their hearts.

Erick flexed Ophiel’s lightform and his feathered avatar took a single step forward, toward Clan Green Grass. A few people subtly panicked, but no one did anything besides watch. A few more people came out of yurts here and there, for they heard something happening, and they needed to see. Erick took ten steps toward Green Grass, and then he stopped.

He had an Ophiel turn off their [Greater Lightwalk] and turn on their [Physical Domain], and then Erick quietly spoke through the nearest three kilometers of space, “I am searching for someone. Please pay no mind to the light that shows up around you.”

Many onlookers instantly ducked back into their yurts.

A [Cascade Imaging] blossomed in the air above—

A dark blot of shadows came out of Linxel’s yurt and erased the spell as it was forming, as the imposter burst out of his yurt, running toward Ophiel as he called out, “Go away, Erick! You are not wanted here! Shadeling puppeteer! Master of Shades! Sword of Melemizargo!” He stopped twenty meters from Erick’s avatar, saying, “I give you the chance to leave now, before we come down on you like the righteous hand of Sumtir!”

Ah.

It was going to be like that, eh?

An Ophiel in the sky cast a spell.

Far above, a star appeared. Abyss swelled. Tendrils of light and shadow danced down from darkened heavens, at the same time Erick’s avatar solidified into something more. The pressure of solid light crashed out of him, like a contained [Force Wave], cracking the ground, scattering dirt as Erick remained standing in the air above a widening crater.

‘Linxel’ did not like this.

The fake warlord cast a dangerous magic at Erick, but Extreme Light from the Star above stripped the man’s spell from the air before whatever it was got a meter from Linxel’s apoplectic form. Linxel tried again, and failed again. He tried to summon armor, and a weapon, and all his power broke away like so much scattered magic. He did not try to run, though.

Other people tried to blip away, but [Teleport] failed. Others tried to fight against the thing in the sky with ineffectual [Dispel]s, like Linxel had done against Erick’s [Cascade Imaging], but not a single person spent enough mana to overcome the Star, and the Star was already pulling far, far ahead of what anyone here was capable of breaking. Others tried [Ward]s to protect themselves from the staring abyss above. Some prepared for melee, but their conjured weapons broke as they were cast.

Extreme Light broke every attempt at magic, for all was under Erick’s power, if not his Domain as well, and all resources were sucked away by the growing abyss above. Some people got the bright idea to simply physically run, but for those people, Ophiel merely appeared in front of them and blipped them back into the center of town, into a suddenly-prepared holding tank of [Quick Wall]s, shaped into a bowl. There were some minor issues when someone tried to cast a spell to get out of the tank, and the [Luminosity] anti-magic spellwork of [Undertow Star] ate away at Erick’s own [Force Walls], but Erick patched up those problems quick enough. No one escaped.

Into this mess, Erick cast a [Cascade Imaging] large enough to cover all of Clan Green Grass, with the Imaging sized to the full kilometer spread of the clan. White mist began to appear on the edges of all surfaces, but the map was too big; it would take minutes to come into existence. Erick had time, now, though.

Some cows started to freak out. Erick didn’t need to deal with the cows, for some level-headed cowherds were calming them down with calm voices and commanding presences.

Erick’s voice was an airy thing that dominated the world, overriding all other voices, “Here is what happened, for those of you not in the know: Linxel met with me. We discussed the culling of face stealers among your people, and among your allies. And then he asked me for three hours to think about it. I assume he went to some other people in the meantime, to speak of what we spoke about.

“Normally, I would not speak of what happened behind a Privacy for I honor the idea of confidentiality. But now, Linxel, if this person who looks like Linxel even is Linxel anymore, has decided not to counter-Hunt the face stealers among your people. If this was all that had happened, I would have gone away. But as you can guess, something else has happened.” Erick said, “Linxel’s soul was dark blue not three hours ago, and now it is sky blue. This could mean a few different things, but when I tried to contact him through [Telepathy], all I got was static.”

A good twenty people gasped. Many others fell silent in contemplation. For some, panic started to give way to cold realization. For others, their panic only heightened.

Erick had hundreds of eyes and several mana senses open and active across all of Clan Green Grass by now. He watched a few people try to contact Linxel, or other people, but their spells were canceled by the [Undertow Star] in the sky. They gasped as they met static, too. That… could be a problem.

Before too much of a misunderstanding could take place, Erick added, “You’re all under a suppression effect right now, so those [Telepathy]s you tried will meet with static. When I am done with my investigation of what has happened here, then I will retract that suppression, and you can resume normal operations. At that time, we will all know what happened to Linxel, and if other people here were involved in what happened to him. Speaking of which, it looks like the map is finally populating.”

Erick had also cast normal Imagings far outside of this place, looking for more tracers from Linxel, but this map here might give specific, interesting information, which was why he layered it across the whole of Clan Green Grass. As the second white star in the sky finally began punching a map out of the mist rising out of Green Grass, it was only a matter of time before it began shifting parts of it to blue, to show the locations of Linxel’s DNA.

Erick already had a suspicion which people were fake, and which were real, based upon their reactions to his proclamation, but actual proof would go a long way toward a proper outcome to the day’s shit show. Of those who had tried to run, all ten of which were now all contained in a see-through area of solid Force in the center of the clan, all had looks of terrible realization upon their faces, as though all of their crimes were finally coming for them. Some of the smarter ones did not run, though. There were undoubtedly some face stealers hiding among the rest of the clansmen, and Erick could not forget ‘Linxel’ himself.

From twenty meters away, the warlord stared at Erick’s avatar, looking down his nose, saying nothing because he could not speak; he had tried at first, but Erick’s [Physical Domain] prevented him. He did not smile. He did not try to move, or to fight. He just watched as Erick did what Erick wanted to do. Linxel certainly looked vindicated, though.

Linxel looked a bit more blue than before, too. His skin was already dark blue, like his soul used to be, but now a cerulean glow began to rise up from his skin.

All around the clan, the same cerulean glow began to overlay the white map of the area.

Erick said, “If you look around you, some of you might see a blue glow. This is where Linxel has recently been. This blue glow is a track. As expected, your leader gets around your land. This is normal.” Ophiels flew through the clan, letting Erick see what he needed to see. He saw a lot. “Some of you have marks on your faces and hands. If you shook his hand recently, or if he spit on you, then that would explain some of these sights. But I doubt Linxel went around spitting on people, now did he!”

One man, who was eighty, was already looking at his wife, who was likely also 80, but who had blue all upon her hands and on a stripe down her face. And a little bit in her hair. The wife stared at her husband as he stared at her, his eyes going wide, her eyes narrowing.

This was not the only pairing to be subject to such an event.

Not many people were marked in blue like this. Maybe only thirty or forty people in the whole clan. But they were clearly blue, and in an odd, splashing sort of way. Some markings were old, and a dimmer sort of blue. Some were very recent, and bright, bright blue.

Erick discarded the idea that there were orgies happening among Green Grass rather quickly, though.

There was no blue upon the lips that wasn’t already on the whole face. There were no beds covered in blue except for Linxel’s own (along with most of his yurt, but that was to be expected). Mostly, though, there was nothing that indicated that these blue markings were anything but blood splatter, and on a level that Erick did not expect to find.

Yes; people in these sorts of places sparred with swords and other weapons all the time. Some blood was to be expected. But not this much. Not this recent, or in such quantity, though.

Erick was rapidly arriving at an odd conclusion...

“You know...” Erick had arrived at the center of the camp, at the people he had contained behind [Force Walls]. “I doubt all these people here were extremely sexually active with Linxel in the past few hours. Just look at them. They’re covered in Linxel’s markers. So the only explanation is that they got a lot of Linxel’s blood on them. And why would that happen? Do training exercises around here often result in one’s leader getting most of his blood put on the outside? Doubtful. I saw no Blood Magic books in Linxel’s yurt, so I doubt he’s a Blood Mage.”

All ten people who tried to run, who Erick contained inside [Force Wall]s, were practically glowing blue. Some of them almost fully.

Many people in the clan had come out when Erick’s calm voice gave no hint of true violence. Many people were actually outraged that Linxel didn’t want to do a proper face stealer search, though Erick had cut off many of those conversations when he extended his silencing into the clan.

Erick relaxed his silence, now.

The mooing of cows returned, first, though he kept those kinda quiet. He had kept an eye on the cows, too, and some of them were blue, but that was to be expected since everyone worked with the cows. None of them had blood splatter on them, though. (Wouldn’t that be odd if the face stealers hid as cows before they Hunted their targets? That’s a pretty sinister way to Hunt, but it would probably work rather well.)

Erick waited for people to start talking.

Still, no one spoke.

Erick asked the people in the pen, for the benefit of those outside, “Did you attack Linxel as a group? Did you meet him somewhere, and then kill him in an ambush?”

No one spoke.

He didn’t really need them to speak, though, at least not for his own proof. When he started speaking he saw the truth of what had happened in their intakes of breath, and in their thrumming hearts, and in the micro expressions of their faces. He did need them to speak for the benefit of everyone else, though.

The person wearing Linxel’s body had followed Erick into the center of the clan, and now he spoke for everyone else, “You poor delusional man. Fighting the Shades really fucked you up, didn’t it.”

Erick ignored the liar and began lightly plucking samples from every single person inside the Walled space. No one in the immediate area noticed the small bits of light that touched the back of a leg, or the side of a thigh; not when light and shadow was twisting down from above, and the Health and Mana of everyone in the entire clan was being stripped away. Most people were long since empty of Resources, by now, so it was much less scary than it had been, but it was still easy to hide his sample-taking among the twisting light.

He took some time to look around, too, to see what effect his words were having on Clan Green Grass. A few people had completely moved on from the drama happening around Erick and ‘Linxel’. They were consumed with the problem staring them in the face: the blue markers they saw upon the faces and hands of their loved ones.

An old man asked his old wife, “Where were you an hour ago?”

To which the old wife replied, “I’m a Healer, you dolt! People were injured in training! That’s probably all the archmage’s blood magic is pointing at.”

The old man frowned. “But that’s Linxel’s marker upon you. And no one has been able to touch him in combat in a long time. The only time he’s ever suffered a loss was that one time when he took on twenty people at… once...”

The old woman said nothing.

The old man stepped away from his wife, his eyes going wide as the full situation registered. Erick could practically read the guy’s mind. ‘Why isn’t she defending herself more’. ‘There has to be an explanation’. ‘Why isn’t she telling me the truth?’.

The old man whispered, “But we talk telepathically every night… Except when we didn’t for a whole month. You had headaches, you said… that was almost three years ago.”

The old woman said nothing. She didn’t have to.

One of three people asked the fourth person in their group, “I saw you go with Toizag to the river but I didn’t think anything of it. You still hate him, don’t you?”

To which the fourth person replied, “I made up with him.”

And then another person in the group said, “But that doesn’t explain why Linxel’s blue is on your face. And on your knife. It looks like smeared blood. It looks like [Cleanse]d blood splatter.”

The fourth person said nothing.

The rest of their group backed away from the fourth.

All around the clan, variations of a scene played out.

And then a woman, middle-aged, probably a mother, walked away from her yurt and headed toward the Walled space in the center of camp. She headed straight for one of the people inside, who was younger; her son, based on looks.

Outwardly, Linxel was the picture of calm professionalism. Inwardly, he was panicking.

The woman stood on one side of the transparent Wall and asked her blue-marked son, “You went with Kuli somewhere an hour ago, didn’t you?” When the son said nothing, the mother turned to the left, asking a young man also inside the Walled space, “Kuli… Where did you take my son?”

The son blurted out, “You don’t believe the mad archmage, do you, mom! It’s me! We spoke through [Telepathy] just last week!”

Kuli, the other boy, completely straight-faced, said, “We broke into Linxel’s yurt while he was away to steal his spare armor and we wore it. It’s fucken’ embarrassing! But we ain’t no face stealers.”

“Yeah!” The son said, “That’s what we did!”

The mother gave a serious nod; she believed her kid. She turned toward Erick’s avatar, and said, “You heard the boys. Please let them go.”

Erick said, “While I was doing this, here, I checked for markers for every one of the people in this pen.” He conjured a thousand kilometer map of the greater area onto the ground outside of the pen, large enough for everyone to see. Then he conjured an image of the place he had found. It was a trio of rocks, the size of the Twin Rocks, near a different river to the west. Erick suspected it was called Three Rocks, though he did not know. “Can anyone tell me the significance of this place?”

Instantly, almost every single person who had Linxel’s markers on them went tense. A few who were clean went tense, too. Some people with markers gave no reaction. Though there were sure to be some false positives and negatives, but if what he was seeing was correct, Erick was pretty sure that he counted twenty three face stealers among the hundred people here. Since a hundred people were still out in the field, there was likely a similar number of face stealers among those people, too. Or something to that effect.

The mother of the boy in the box stared at the image. A long, terrible moment passed, as she recognized that Erick was not going to let her boy go, and also that she knew what that meant. Her voice cracked as she named the location in his image, “That— It’s Three Rocks.”

Some people nodded at this.

Erick asked, “Has your clan been there recently?”

“Not for a year!” said some likely-innocent and very angry man standing off to the side; he had no markers on him at all.

A chorus of confirmations came from other onlookers, while the people in the pen looked more condemned with each passing moment.

Erick said, “This place is about three hundred kilometers to the west. Linxel’s markers are all over the place, alongside the markers of every single person in this pen, and several other people outside of this pen. I have [Witness]ed Three Rocks, and I saw a few of the people here in the surroundings of that space. They were there an hour ago. I likely would have seen the attack, too, but the recent history of the area was erased from the manasphere, so I have no way of knowing what, exactly, happened there, either to Linxel, or to everyone else who attacked him. There are some dark magics happening here. Dark purposes. Evil intent. Face stealers or soul mutilation and probably a combination of both, but I know not what. Not yet. But I will know, and soon.” He turned his avatar toward Linxel, and demanded, “Who are you?”

Linxel smiled a nervous smile, and then he laughed a nervous laugh. And then he sighed, and said, “You just killed my father and sister, Erick. The dragon had them and now they’re dead.”

The clan gasped. A few shouted, “Dragon?!”

“Lies.” Erick said, “Tell me the truth.”

“Tha…” Linxel’s brow furrowed. “That is the truth…” He deflated. “You pompous ass.”

A man in the clan whispered to a nearby person, “But his father and sister have been dead for years? A decade? Right?”

Erick was not the only one to hear the man whisper that. He made a point of turning his avatar the man’s way.

On the other side of the clearing, a woman said, “Yeah! Linxel’s father and sister were killed by a Sky Tether horde twelve years ago!” The woman was about Linxel’s age with dark blue skin and some of his size, but no horns, said, “Linxel’s my cousin and his soul used to be bright blue; I ain’t never seen it, but that’s what the old Speaker said. And then his half of our family was killed by sky tethers and his soul darkened.” She asked Linxel. “Do you not remember that? Linxel?”

Linxel just stared at his cousin, saying nothing, his face set like an uncomprehending stone.

Other people spoke up, confirming Linxel’s family’s fate.

Linxel finally broke. “No! I just saw them. They’re alive!” He roared, “They’re alive! They’re ali—” He twitched. His soul broke inside as his head turned left and his body turned right. He collapsed to the ground—

He was not dead, and Erick made sure that he stayed that way with a quick [Greater Treat Wounds].

Erick declared, “Maybe he was just soul-fucked.” He turned to the people in the force cage. “But these people helped Linxel to get soul-fucked, and I don’t know what that means, yet.”

The people inside the Force cage were already worried, but whereas before they thought they could lie themselves out of their problem, now they knew they could not. Some of them went crazy, screaming obscenities. The face stealer in the form of the woman’s son started bawling. The boy’s ‘friend’ went over and smashed his fist into the son’s face, roaring hate about how much of a terrible Hunter he was.

Erick spoke to the entire clan, “I see you, face stealers. Hunters. Come forth. Now.”

At that, many of the obvious face stealers stopped trying to hide.

Some came forward willingly, like the old woman who claimed to have healed Linxel from a fight, and that’s why she had his blood on her face. Her husband of what he thought was many decades, turned out to only have been her husband for the last three years. The old man looked on as his old wife’s killer and impostor declared the truth of herself. His heart was suddenly heavy with pain, and his eyes heavy with tears. The woman’s name had been that of the Speaker of Green Grass, but when she revealed herself, she said her real name was Roia, and that she was sorry. The old man did not want to hear it.

Erick held back the sudden mob from murdering the woman, because Roia was cooperative and he needed answers. A simple blip extricated Roia from the problem of mob violence, placing her inside the Force box, for now.

The fourth person of the group of three tried to run. Erick blipped the killer into the box in the center.

The less obvious face stealers kept hiding.

Everything got very confusing, very fast.

And then people started to come in from the outside, trying to blip into their clan, but hitting the [Spatial Denial] instead, and ending up disoriented upon the grassy plains.

Erick helped those people with a blip of his own directly to the side of the center of camp. Every time one more person arrived it was a new problem. Sometimes people tried to [Scry] ahead, but [Undertow Star] burst those spells before they could fully manifest.

After an hour, 179 people were under Erick’s [Undertow Star], and there were at least that many private inquisitions happening, everywhere, all at once. None of the face stealers were dead, yet, though some of them would have died if Erick hadn’t healed them from sudden, terrible violence. No one had any Health right now, so everyone was vulnerable to every punch or stone throw, and many of the attackers (and defenders!) had Strength scores in the 50s.

It was all confusing. It was all terrible. The truthstones came out of storage but none of them worked because Erick’s [Undertow Star] was still high in the sky, still Draining everyone and canceling all spells except for his own. There was still a bit of annoyance when [Luminosity] touched some of Erick’s Force spells, but Erick fixed those issues before they became problems. Erick wasn’t about to turn off the Star, though, and when some people asked him to turn it off, others rapidly shouted them down, talking about how the face stealers could get away.

Some people were beyond furious at the face stealers.

Other people had different reactions. Some were quiet. Some broke down. Some people were stuck in disbelief.

The Speaker’s husband came forward, demanding to know who Roia was. Roia could only say that she began to love the old man who was her unexpected husband. The plan had been to replace him, too, but she couldn’t. Erick had to prevent sudden, overwhelming mob violence against her, since it was her fault, as the Speaker, that the anti face stealer protocols had been corrupted so very, very much; that so many people had been turned.

And all the while, Erick watched over the unconscious Linxel.

He watched as something slowly broke inside the man’s soul, and as black soulstuff invaded the rest, like a dark blessing unleashed. Nothing was constrained, nothing was diminished. Nothing was heightened, either. Everything was just… changed.

Erick didn’t know what that meant, exactly, but he was glad that he didn’t go with his first instinct to kill the (possible) impostor.

‘Linxel’ had been an impostor, for sure, but he had just been a different version of himself, perhaps. Perhaps he was a version that was brighter and more easily handled with threats of an entirely mundane nature; with threats against a family that no longer existed. But in the act of soul fucking, the dragon (Maybe it was a dragon, maybe not?) that did the soul mutilation had to have known that they changed Linxel’s soul color. And in that knowing, they knew that this plan (whatever it was supposed to be) had a very high failure rate.

Maybe the dragon deemed the risk as acceptable. A missing Linxel would have set off way too many alarms while an imperfect actor would have been seen through, right away. A perfect actor might have been possible, but to acquire a perfect actor, with the correct soul color, with only a few hours prep? Erick wasn’t sure, but that seemed impossible. Perhaps, whoever set this up was making do with what they had on hand, and what they had was just not good enough to fool him.

But if this man was truly Linxel, then why didn’t [Telepathy] work?

Perhaps, [Telepathy] tried to connect to the soul, but with the soul changed so drastically Linxel truly wasn’t the same person?

Back when Jane guided Champion Yetta through Ar’Kendrithyst, to kill Shade Planter, her soul had changed from Script blue to dark blue. And yet, Erick never lost [Telepathy] contact with her.

Maybe the loss of contact here was because it was an artificial soul shift?

- - - -

Erick briefly came fully back to himself. About an hour had passed so far, with him giving small updates to everyone when he could. Jane, Nirzir, and Poi were still on high alert, but less so, since nothing had happened right away, and whoever had done this likely knew exactly where Erick was already. The only one visibly doing something was Teressa, who was sitting in her chair, her eyes glossed over as she shifted her Sight toward the future, hoping to see something before it happened. Poi was the first to notice that Erick was almost fully back, though.

Erick asked, “Does a mangled soul change how [Telepathy] works? Would that interaction look like a [Telepathy] going to a dead person? I’m not sure how [Telepathy] works, exactly.”

Teressa blinked, her sight coming back to the moment, as she came back to the present. Jane said nothing, for she had no answers. Nirzir had an answer, but held her tongue.

Poi said, “I only know the broadest of answers to that. Hold on.” He glanced away, the tendrils around his head extending outward.

Nirzir spoke, “I think the answer is yes, but I’m not completely sure on that.”

Poi came back almost right away, blurting out, “Sometimes, when a necromancer or soul mage operates on a soul more than a small change, they will accidentally shift the color of the soul, for they have introduced a cascading trauma into that soul, and the shifting of a soul’s color always indicates a large trauma.” He said, “Naturally occurring soul trauma that comes from within does not interfere with normal spellworks and interactions, such as one’s ability to enchant, or to communicate through [Telepathy]. Soul trauma caused by outside sources, such as a Soul Mage or necromancer, almost always interferes with everything the traumatized person does, from spell creation to connecting with [Telepathy] to enchanting. Sometimes, if the shift is not done properly, then such a shift can revert and cause even more damage in the reverting.” Poi looked to Erick, saying, “You need to get Linxel to a proper soul healer. Having him active and whole would go a long way toward fixing the problems of Green Grass.”

All good things to know. From Nirzir’s expression, she didn’t know much of what Poi had explained, either.

Erick agreed with Poi’s assessment, saying, “Please inform the Palace of the Eternal Court that I am bringing them a patient and that I expect prompt service.”

Poi gave a tiny, involuntary gasp, covering the action by saying, “At once.” After a moment, he came back. “Bring the warlord to the eastern courtyard; it’s visible from the air. They’ll have a Soul Healer waiting for him.”

“Thank you.”

While Teressa shivered, Jane winced, and Nirzir frowned a little, Erick cast his gaze back to Green Grass.

- - - -

Ophiel dropped the insensate Linxel upon the soft grasses of the eastern courtyard of the Palace of the Eternal Court, while Erick’s avatar stepped out of the light, to stand beside the soul-fucked or face stolen man; Erick wasn’t quite sure yet.

To the sides of the courtyard, under sloping eaves, were nice yet utilitarian classrooms, where many chairs all faced podiums which stood next to chalkboards. Only a few classes were in session today. Older teenagers poked their heads above window frames, to see Erick and the warlord. A few teachers had stopped what they were doing to allow their charges to view whatever was going to happen outside.

The initiates were marked by loose, thin gold chains around their necks. The teachers were marked with thicker gold chains, almost like solid bands. Their guards wore no gold at all, as they stood at attention atop the corners of the roof, and down in the corners of the courtyard, their eyes open for anyone trying to enter, or escape. The guards noticed Erick and Ophiel and Linxel, but they did nothing, for they knew what was going on. All of that was just window dressing.

Erick saw the person he was to meet for soul healing, and a tension relaxed from his chest. He could trust this person.

Elder Arilitilo looked exactly the same as before, though it had only been two weeks last he saw her. She looked well. She had students now, too. Five older teens stood behind Ari, each of them wearing small gold chains and nice grey uniform robes; same as all the other students nearby.

Erick rapidly said, “Elder Ari. It is good to see you. Please tell me that you can fix whatever soul fuckery is going on here, or find out what is wrong with him. I need him alive and well because we’re in the middle of an active face stealer situation up north, and he’s the warlord of a clan. I think we’ve got a good hundred face stealers, at least, and other trouble worse than that.”

Ari listened, then she immediately moved to the warlord, saying, “Good afternoon to you too, Archmage Flatt. I was quickly briefed, but it is good to have the whole story.” She knelt down upon the grass and put her hands upon Linxel’s chest. A faint red glow lined her purple skin as her eyes turned from violet to maroon. With an unfocused gaze, she asked, “What do you think happened to him? Exactly?”

Her students looked on, rapt in attention, their eyes shifting from Ari, to Linxel, to Erick, to Ophiel, then settling back to Linxel, to see whatever it was Ari was doing to the man.

Erick explained, “His soul was dark blue when I first met him and he was willing to think about counter-Hunting face stealers. Three hours later, I met him again and his soul was sky blue, and he did not want to deal with the face stealers in his clan, or in any of his allied clans. I escalated. He broke down when he knew he was not going to get his way, saying stuff about how his father and sister were now lost to him. From other people in the clan, I learned that his father and sister were eaten by sky tethers 12 years ago, before he became warlord. When his family had been killed, that was when his soul shifted to a darker color.”

“Okay,” Ari shifted her glowing red hands atop the man’s chest, tapping upon the soul inside and eliciting echoes in return. As she tapped, the fractured dark blue and bright blue parts of Linxel began to even out, like she was untangling knots made of clumpy water. “I understand now. This was a soul shift done improperly and under dire circumstances in an attempt to influence the man in a specific way. Whoever operated on him was highly skilled, but also rushed. Healing unnatural damage is easier than causing damage. It will take an hour to get the warlord walking. Three hours for a full healing. What is his name?”

“Linxel Green Grass.” Erick asked, “Can you tell if he is a face stealer, or not? How would you tell?”

Ari frowned a little, as the light around her hand magnified. “I do not believe he is a face stealer, though I will know more later, once I have had a chance to fully examine him.”

“Okay. Do you need me to remain here?”

“Your assistance is not required for this part, Archmage.” Ari said, “Check back in an hour, please.”

“Thanks for this, Ari.”

Ari spoke to her students, “Attend me, children; Watch as I coax Linxel’s soul back together by having him notice the fractures and—”

Ophiel departed.

- - - -

Erick’s avatar had never vanished from Clan Green Grass, but people had noticed that his attention had wavered. Now that he was fully here, all he heard was screaming and threats of violence and a hundred and fifty people, desperately wanting to know what the fuck was happening to their clan. Erick had separated the face stealers from everyone else with a lot of [Quick Wall]s, but he also had to separate some of the face stealers from others of their kind, with even more Walls; There was discord in those ranks.

Secrets were coming out and it was not pretty.

Erick silenced everyone and waited a moment for them to understand that he was going to speak, now. He didn’t have to wait long. As eyes turned to him, Erick raised his voice to calmly say, “I have taken Linxel to a soul healer. He was soul fucked by someone in an attempt to prevent a counter-Hunt. He was not face stolen. Soon, we will have better answers. Soon, there will be an even greater counter-Hunt among your people, for I doubt that Linxel would not proceed with a true counter-Hunt now that he is on his way to being of sound mind, and soul. But that will take two hours.

“As of right now, I have already found every single person of Green Grass who I believe to be a face stealer, and I will reveal the reason that I am counter-Hunting in your lands.” As clansmen went wide eyed, Erick stepped toward the Force cage in the center of the camp. His avatar stared at those behind the Walls of Force. “A dragon attempted to assassinate me, and so I am trying to find out why, in case there is some misunderstanding that we can clear up to prevent further aggression. You are all collateral damage. I see you do not believe me— Ah. I see at least one of you does believe me, and isn’t that interesting…” His voice trailed off as he took in everything he was seeing.

Erick looked to Roia, who stood alone in a separate cage of Force, looking utterly resigned to her fate as she stared right back at Erick’s avatar. When Erick had mentioned dragons, and while everyone else had varying reactions from surprise to disbelief to fear, Roia was merely resigned, as though someone had taken apart her life and showed her the problems that she had made for herself.

According to what everyone was screaming, the fake Speaker of Green Grass was high up in her organization. Other face stealers had tried to kill her already, which was why she was alone. An oddity (or perhaps not that odd at all) was that the husband of the body Roia had stolen had taken to standing just outside of Roia’s prison, staring hate and sorrow at the woman, while his soul shifted colors from sunny yellow to something dimmer, getting darker with each passing moment. Roia couldn’t even look at him.

Erick spoke to everyone, “I am after dragons. These dragons are behind many of the plots against Integration, and also for Integration, no doubt. They orchestrate your clans at cross purposes, or for their own gain, or for whatever reason they have; I know not what. All I know is that one of them tried to kill me a few weeks ago, and I am here to find out why. But to get to them, I apparently have to go through every single hidden society there is, of which the face stealers and Hunters are one.

“If anyone here wishes to be a part of that counter-Hunt and to tear these plagues from your homeland, then let me know now. You will become a volunteer force and I will help you find every single face stealer that hides among you.”

He let them speak. It took a few seconds for the gathered people to realize that they could talk, and then the flood came all at once. A good 40% of people wanted to join Erick’s counter-Hunt. The rest wanted to know more. And so, Erick explained how he would counter-Hunt the face stealers among them, and among other grass traveler clans. It took an hour, but it was time well spent.

Soon, one major person stood out from the crowd.

Forage Leader Ooloori publicly declared her intentions to aid Erick in whatever he needed. She hadn’t been in camp when all of this started, but she had come in from the outside and was rapidly brought up to speed. As she was the effective co-leader of this encampment of Clan Green Grass, her declaration began to solidify an organized base of support among everyone else.

By the time that happened, Linxel was awake.

- - - -

Erick’s avatar descended into the courtyard.

Ari stood to the side with her students behind her, while a pair of guards empowered a dome of Force in the center of the courtyard. Their spell was a shield of [Draining Void], or something similar, and it completely cut Linxel off from the rest of the world, while simultaneously Draining him. The warlord was awake and very active inside that spellwork, but most of his actions were just punching at the transparent walls and getting nowhere. He was furious, but he was also fully himself again. And then he saw Erick’s avatar. He roared out inaudible expletives; his cage had sound dampening functions.

Erick asked Ari, “Is he good?”

Ari stood straight, saying, “I have healed the man. He is once again himself. Please take him away.”

“Thank you, Ari.” Erick said, “I owe you another one.”

“This is a boon I doubt I will call upon except in the most dire of needs.” Ari bowed, then rose, saying, “Whoever worked the soul mutilation upon Linxel was a skilled hand. Be careful with any interactions you have with such a force.”

“I will.” Erick turned toward Linxel, who was now furiously staring at him, but at least he had stopped trying to break the spell around him. Erick asked the guards holding him down, “Can he hear me?”

“Yes, sir,” said the man on the left. The one on the right just nodded.

Erick nodded in response, then said to Linxel, “I uncovered 23 face stealers among your people. Forage Leader Ooloori is taking over your clan in your absence. Do you want to go back? Do you want to solve the face stealer problem that you thought did not exist among your people? The dragon problem? If you do, then you will be put back among your people right now. If you do not, then I will sequester you elsewhere for a few hours so that Ooloori can solidify her power in your place. What say you?”

Even though it was inaudible, Erick saw Linxel say, “I accept your help in counter-Hunting all the face stealers and dragons among Clan Green Grass. Get me out of this house of necromancers.”

“Then we have an accord.” Erick asked the guards, “Please release him.”

The guards released their spell and stepped away.

Linxel just stood there, breathing deep, gaining control of his emotions as he glared death at Erick and everyone else within sight. Some student onlookers flinched at his gaze but the Drain had removed all of Linxel’s resources, so it wasn't like he could do anything to anyone. And yet, he still managed to look dangerous.

“We’re going now,” Erick said.

A wrap of light moved them along.