The Power of Ten

It was later in the day in Australia when I arrived to begin my Mapping there, an event the locals were anticipating and dreading at the same time. Any thoughts they might not have a Felldeep had vanished when I released my early Communes from circumlocuting the country, and they saw all those deep places with who knew what within.

If they had a Felldeep, they had a Strata, too.

Pointedly, I started it at the former heart of the Sydney Shroudzone.

There was a new temple there, built by Faux Tens, Druids and Priests coming together to build something that could represent all the Faiths in one way or another.

The Temple of the Good Stewards, it was called. It was open air, carved and Shaped from wood and stone, with growing things coming up to defy the lifelessness of what had dwelled here before.

There were a LOT of Faux Ten Priests and Druids in Australia now, per capita the highest in the world. Some had even reached Faux Eleven.

The Hallows to get rid of the Blighted land here had taken months of work to accomplish, but they had their own Glory Award accompany them when they succeeded, scores of Priests and Druids of multiple Faiths joining hands to cleanse away what their foolishness and mule-headedness had made worse.

Teams of them had gone out to every Blighted area in the whole country by now, Hallowing them and cleansing the cursed landscapes. Great Ceremonies to return life to the barren soil had followed, Plant Growths and the like, even taking place out in the waters to restore the dead coral reefs and seaweed that had once lived offshore.

Shrines of the Good Stewards were thus in place all over the country now.

Luminous Chalker had put his money where his mouth was, and taken up Levels in Druid as his Helix Class, driving up the Theurgy of Balance so as to fully embrace both sides of the equation.

In doing all this, the Good Stewards had transformed the local Church of Imprus to something much more positive than it had been, a remarkable transformation over the course of a year. The whole idea that Imprus’ Church defined what kind of King He would be to the people placed all that responsibility on His Priests, and they would be held responsible for their deeds in pursuit of that image.

If they wanted Imprus to be the wise and benevolent King... then they had to be wise and benevolent, and do so in deeds, not words.

They were working a lot closer with the White Churches these days, and Australia also had a competition for Kingship going on.

The frontrunner, remarkably enough, was Kentai Miyamoto.

He wasn’t a Source or a Caster, but he was a Dragon Warrior, and he came from a line of great leaders and generals.

He’d also had Evil strike right at the heart of his beliefs, costing him dearly in his oldest friend and his beloved daughter, displaying clearly the ruthless tools that Evil would use in pursuit of its ambitions.

His people had followed him into atonement in China, and they had reduced the Nanking Shroudzone and all those undead who hated the people of likewise-fallen Nippon to vivus over the course of time. They then continued the task of taking down other Shroudzones that also had the bloodstains of Nippon upon them.

The Aussies had not gone so much to help as to get in their own Leveling, and naturally had worked with someone they knew. They could not help but be impressed by the grim and stern wounded warrior leading his people on a quest of repentance, and even the incoming Druids could not find fault with him.

Indeed, his wisdom and astuteness had been responsible for much of the speed of their Leveling, and being able to expand their Stewardship.

The Church of Imprus loved him. He had lineage, he had ability... and he had helped expose the deeply-hidden corruption infecting the Church. Cracking open that hidden door, members of the Church had even brought in Harse Inquisitors to ferret out the heretics infecting them... and, although they admitted nothing, the Brothers of the Light and the Scepter.

Those discoveries, ranging up to and including Pact Patrons of Law, had spread literally across the world. If the sheer idiocy of the stuff they’d been pulling in North America hadn’t been proof enough, finding how many of the powerful of Imprus had other loyalties had only shown a hard, sharp light upon the Faith.

The purges had been sharp, often bloody, and if I really had no respect for The Imperial God, I had to admit He had a cleaner Church now then He’d had a year ago, and when the time came He’d likely approve of what was done.

After all, He didn’t want to be associated with Hell, either.

Miyamoto was waiting down there, in the low circle of stones at the center of the amphitheater here. There was no one else with him, not that he needed them. A Ten Dragon Warrior was plenty capable of taking care of himself, and he had nothing to fear from me.

His Aura had more silver than blue now, a sign of decisions he’d made and beliefs that had changed in doing so. Quiet sorrow and grim resolve ran along his Aura like ripples of blame and repentance.

His Landbound Aura was evident, too. Shvaughn had helped him gain it six months ago, while Sama had Marked him up. He wasn’t in Allegiance, but he was in the contact loop, and he had taken the Tattoo Artist Ranks to personally administer the Marks to those loyal to him who deserved such things.

“Master Miyamoto,” I greeted him, studying the Ocean-centered flow of his Chi. Sama had refined upon and built up the arts of the Light-Sparkling-Water school, exposing him to the full knowledge of the House of the Ocean Dragon. His swordsmanship and the lethality of his Forms and Techniques had exploded under her advice and guidance, and she had named him a Master of the Ocean Dragon when he’d unleashed his first Tsunami successfully.

Like many of her students, especially ones with builds as powerful as his, he’d taken the Crystal Dragon as his secondary School, fervently working the toughness and power into his techniques, aiming for the full array of Mud and Ice to work with. His capabilities had expanded in many areas.

“Lady Traveler.” He bowed deeply to me as I drifted down the rough steps. “My apologies for intruding upon your first visit here. I wished merely to thank you in person for your gifts, rather than through channels.”

I bowed back to him, not quite as low. He already had the Noble Status of a King, sitting firmly at 11, not leaning on the back of his Warlord Levels. I was holding a minimum of 20, making him far subordinate to me, even if this was his homeland, such as it was. “It was unnecessary, but I thank you for your time and personal honor. Have you seen the Temple before?” I stopped before him, closing my eyes and spinning around slowly to feel the place at many levels.

Death, despair, corruption, fear, strife. The echoes of them were there, but being soothed under the balm of peace, life, light, new hope, and harmony hard-fought and hard-won, showing what they had risen from.

The Land was healing, as was the spirit of those living upon it.

I could feel his chi humming as he joined me in feeling it, relaxing imperceptibly. “It is good to feel that we can still build such places together,” he sighed softly, standing there and sensing the whispers below the serenity.

“It helps to actually be able to see the Good in people,” I agreed. “I can tell you have questions. Please, go ahead with them.”

“They are many who are calling for me to become the King of Australia.” He paused to check my reaction, but I showed nothing. “Do you think that is a wise move for me?”

“Mmm. I think that is an incredible move for Silver on the board of the game of gods. It will show that they are truly transcending racial politics and trusting a responsible man to do the job right. You have what it takes to do the job, and you’ve already taken that first step. I think you are asking a deeper question, yes?”

He sighed in defeat. “It is the dream of my people...”

I shook my head once. “You are Landbound to Australia now. You can never be King of Japan regardless. That dream is now for the next generation, and will probably not happen until a King is born of the islands. Indeed, getting all the islands to embrace the same King will probably prove more difficult than you think.

“Stand in Australia and make it and all its people into something greater. Japan is now a wasteland, basically going to be nothing more than a colony once its Shroudzones are addressed. I understand you have been beginning that work, and inviting Juniors in to participate. It is a wise move. The Shroudzones are densely packed, yet still far inferior to Russia. It is a good place to quickly train more Juniors.”

He sighed as if a load had been lifted from his shoulders. “There have been calls that when this is over and the Shroud is gone, we should return to settle the homeland.”

“You were born here. This IS your homeland, as the islands of Nippon will inform you directly. It does not mean they will not accept you, but you are not born of their soil, and the fact your forefathers were is irrelevant to them. Bloodlines are a human thing, not a Place Spirit thing.

“They are also ignoring the fact that when the Shroud goes down, it is not the end.”

He took a deep breath. “It is a new and very perilous beginning.”

“Yes.” I opened my eyes to look at the seats and stands carved all about, the time and effort that had gone into this.

All grayed by the Haze, and losing something because of it.

“Having the undead to focus on right before you is a wonderful thing. Defeat them, and all problems are solved. But when the Shroud goes down, the Stages begin, the Divine and their competition look your way, and suddenly, there are far, far more problems to deal with than before, and they are neither simple nor so basically dealt with as the undead.

“You have a shadow of those Stages visible in the Felldeep and the Hollow World. Magic breeds mutation and monstrosities. The Divine often have favored races and servants they bring into the worlds beneath them. For instance, Angar happens to love the yuan-ti. What do you do when the serpent-men have a Divine backer who starts increasing the numbers of them born among humans?”

Kentai frowned deeply, and sighed again. “What is the term? There are so many ways for powerful entities to fuck with us?”

“You’ve been listening to Sama,” I smiled slightly. “And that is exactly true. The solution?”

“Get powerful. Protect yourself. Protect your own. Protect everyone else. Make a difference,” he recited promptly.

“A King is solidly right there on Make a Difference. The bloodline of those from Nippon does not have the power nor the numbers to secure the islands against what is coming, especially since you will be de facto invaders for this generation.

“Were I in your place, I would first defer any attempt to settle there for a decade in the future, in order that the people can fully adjust to what a true magical life will bring, and if you can even afford to spend the people to do the job.

“I would then only dispatch Seniors there, specifically those willing to bring up a second family in a dangerous environment. Their children will be the new natives of the island.

“I expect the island will change VERY quickly once magic comes and there aren’t humans around. The native spirits and the gods will have great fun with the remnants of the culture, and Fey and magical creatures are going to proliferate like mad there.

“You aren’t going to be able to just resettle the islands. With magic coming, you’re going to have to win them back.”

“First, defend what you have,” he agreed quietly, nodding. “By only allowing Seniors to go there, that gives us eyes on what happens there, without risking our younger generation.”

“This generation grew crazy powerful, crazy fast. Future generations aren’t going to be able to do the same... but they won’t have the Shroud suppressing them, either. They won’t have to resort to Double Helix nonsense to Level. But there is an exception, and that is if the things that are out there decide to make things... interesting.”

His dark eyes flashed, and his hand dropped to the katana at his side. “Living in interesting times...” he murmured knowingly.

“A generation. You’ll be a King for one generation, maybe two. When you’ve prepared a successor and you know the world, aye, if the people don’t need you any more, lead some dreamers back to Nippon and see what you can do there.

“But you’d best prepare well, because it won’t be like the dreams left behind a century before.”

He nodded once again in understanding. Prepare in the peace... except there would be no peace, only change...