I Swear I'm Not A Dark Lord!

The Colony

"It took them five minutes to adopt him. You'd think he was their long-lost son. When I left, he was following Blake around, holding tools for him. Blake never let me do that."

Curator Jane flipped to the next page of his report on the Hallam incident, and everything he'd learned from Kasper. "How does that make you feel?"

The question pulled him up short. Not only had she never asked that question before, she had never asked a question like it, not in the year they'd been working together. Her mana churned, in what he recognized as a quest-related change to her class.

"Did you just get a quest for this conversation?"

"You never told me you could detect class changes."

"I'm keenly sensitive to mana. Classes are magic. Do the math. And that doesn't answer my question."

Jane sighed and put down the report. "If you were paying attention, you'd notice I got the quest after I asked how you felt, not before. So I didn't ask for the class gains. You seem to want to talk about it."

"How could I not want to talk about it? I've lived in that house for ten years, and the most I saw of people for the first eight was the backs of their heads. The nursemaid literally left me for dead, and nobody even noticed. Kasper is there five minutes, and Blake lets him help with repairs? Now they're filled with parental love? I'm cursed. I get it. But I could have used just one, little, smidgen of that, for one day."

"It's not fair," agreed Jane.

"But life isn't fair, so I should just get over it, is that it?"

"That isn't what I was going to say. We're all … Bilius, we know we failed you terribly. We did. For years and years, we failed a child who needed us. Worse, it was our job to look after you, on behalf of your mother, whom we all loved. If we could go back in time and put a mask on you the day you were born so people could hold you, we would. But even the gods can't turn back time, or won't, which is the same thing. And now you're," she waved her hands in his direction, indicating all of him, "beyond coddling."

He sat in Jane's office, pretending he didn't want to cry.

"The question right now is, what do you want for Kasper? If his being around makes you unhappy, you have the power to send him away."

"No, I like Kasper. He's fun to have around. And he's honest. He should get a good family."

"Then we'll do our best to find him one. Until then, let the Blakes do for Kasper what they failed to do for you. Let it be a partial recompense for years of failure."

"I guess it's fine." He felt stupid for ranting about it, only to leave the situation as it was. But he wasn't about to kick out the wolfkin child. "He's high-energy, though. I hope they can keep up."

"That reminds me." Jane removed a book from her desk drawer and pushed it toward him. What To Know About Your Wolfkin Pup.

"Huh." Taylor took the book and transferred it to his bag. "I thought you were joking."

"I never joke about books."

Taylor felt better, and Jane's mana shimmered with minor quest rewards.

Business was more comfortable ground for them, so they returned to it like cats slinking away from a rainstorm. Mourne and Midway were owed bounties for Hallam and his crew, with Mourne taking the larger share because Taylor did most of the fighting and saved Watchman Patrick's life. They were getting a secondary windfall from the guild that insured their cargo: he was effectively getting a refund. The caravan was reported lost, and the company had started proceedings to either recover the cargo or pay out the policy. Both options would have cost them a lot of money. They still had to finish their investigation, but it looked like Township Mourne would receive a percentage of the policy's payout value for recovering the goods. To Taylor, it sounded like an exploitable loophole in the policy, but he was happy to take the money and put it to other uses.

"I have two more days of necessary roadwork, then I need a couple of days off to fish."

"You can't take extra days off. There's too much to do, and you have a wedding at the governor's in a few weeks."

"I pulled this from a walleye as big as I am." He placed the green-gold mana stone between them.

Jane plucked it up, held it to the light, and scanned it with a class ability. She was a scholar, and he'd shown her plenty of examples of mana stones and magic items lately. He hoped her skill was leveling up from all the work.

"Our species of walleye is not supposed to grow that big or have that many rows of teeth. Maybe it came from way out in Fingers Lake, and it's someone else's problem. But if it came from a mana vent close to home, I have to seal it."

The legate's most important job was defending his territory, and mana vents created monsters. This wasn't an optional assignment for Taylor.

Jane held the stone out to him. "Just promise that if you find another giant vent, you won't explore it alone. We can't afford to lose you."

"I promise."

When Taylor left on his 'fishing trip,' he took Kasper along with him. He didn't have much choice, as the child was waiting for him in the morning with a packed bag and a huge grin on his furry face.

"I tried to deter him, Young Master, but What To Know says we should encourage his adventurism. It's how the pups learn. And he thinks of you as a big brother."

The words big brother sealed Taylor's fate. Still, the kid had to be forewarned. "It's an overnight trip even if it rains. We're going do a lot of riding and only a little fishing. Are you okay with that?"

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

"Camping!" he said in Orlut. "Let's camping!"

"I've been teaching him some Orlut," smiled the dotting groundskeeper. "Early days, yet."

"Ride Tristan!"

"Fine. Show me what's in your bag."

As an angler who enjoyed the occasional summer night by the river, Blake knew what to pack for an overnight trip. And Cook (Mrs. Blake) packed several meals in magically sealed containers. The adventurers wouldn't go cold or hungry.

Tristan had body enhancements and free rein for much of the day. Taylor pointed him down any road that followed a stream deep enough for huge walleye to swim along, and Tristan's legs ate up the miles. Kasper stood on the saddle and held on to the horn with both hands, rocking with the animal's gait. As long as they were moving, he was happy. They followed all the outlets of the township's reservoir and all the irrigation canals, up to the township borders and well beyond. The townsfolk didn't know he could sense mana from a distance, so they probably thought he was taking a daylong joyride.

They set up camp in unincorporated territory well east of Township Mourne. Spring breezes blew blossoms everywhere, and Kasper kept trying to catch them by ones and twos. Taylor made a little cyclone that sucked in all the petals into a spinning cloud of pink, white, and red. Kasper spun in mad circles inside the pink tornado, grabbing in every direction, huffing and laughing until he fell, too dizzy and tired to get up. They fished for a while, then explored the forest around them. Kasper found and climbed the best trees, and Taylor found himself right there with him, bouncing on limbs and getting sap on his hands.

When it got dark, they retreated to the tent lit with Taylor's magic fireflies. It had a curtain down the middle, so he could turn off Riverstone and remove his mask. For safety's sake, he slept in a cloth that covered his eyes and nose. When he dozed off, Kasper's shadow was on the curtain, still trying to catch the insubstantial fireflies.

Taylor woke up to a heavy weight on his arm. Kasper was encroaching on his side of the tent, with the curtain still between them. He tried to push the weight away, but the boy was a limp noodle child with a seemingly magical resistance to being moved. In the end, he had to extract himself from the tent and leave the wolfkin where he was, softly snoring.

He said hello to Tristan, brushed his smoky coat until past dawn, and left him a good quantity of feed under the warming sun. They struck out in the lowlands, but he had a good feeling about the mountains. There was a second river, narrow but deep, that flowed into the town reservoir. It came from a pond upstream, held back by an old otter dam. It was barely possible, but a big fish could come from there.

He opened Cook's breakfast boxes and warmed them with magic until the smell of pancakes and sausages woke the wolfkin. Kasper wordlessly savored the fluffy cakes and herby, greasy sticks of meat. Taylor taught him how to break camp: wash dishes in the river, roll up the bedrolls, brush out the tent and fold it neatly, stow everything away, and search the campsite for loose items and trash. He taught his 'little brother' like he had taught so many boys and girls before him. In his rush to get stronger, Taylor had forgotten the pleasures of watching children learn something new.

Tristan enjoyed the easy canter all morning, but then took the hills more cautiously. Taylor didn't ride him very much for pleasure, so they'd been uphill only a few times.

Even if he couldn't feel the vent from a mile downstream, Taylor would have known they were close. The stream was bright green with stinking algae, and plants along its banks were dying. Kasper had to hold his nose against the smell of algae and decay.

"Smells bad!"

Taylor used the opportunity to teach him new Orlut words like 'stink' and 'gross' and their various forms until Kaspar could say with confidence, "It's the grossest stink that stank grossly!"

They reached the otter dam in the afternoon. It should have been a pretty pond, the kind that was too green to swim in but full of life, fed by cold water trickling down from the mountains to rest behind the dam of cut brush and deadwood piled up by yard-long otters. There should have been a myriad of bugs in spring, skimming the surface or buzzing around the shady banks. Birds should have been swooping low over the pond to skim the surface for insects, or stalking the shores with long legs and long beaks, searching for tadpoles and tiny fish.

Instead, a thick layer of algae lay on the water in random swirls of multi-hued green. It stank of green decaying things and rotten eggs. Nothing moved under that oppressive stench, because nothing lived. The nearby trees were leafless and bloomless, as if winter had never ended for them.

He took his sword in hand and slipped down from Tristan's back.

"Take Tristan uphill. There, where there's good sunlight. Wait for me there." He pointed to a position that let his horse and cub watch him, but was well away from the scummy pond.

"Is it strong?"

"Maybe."

"Are you going to fight?"

"No. I'm going to look. It's important to know what you're fighting, before you fight. So first, we look."

Enhanced for speed, defense, and perception, Taylor stepped cautiously into the zone of dead trees. Sickly, bare limbs felt dry under Taylor's hands. Even the trunks felt hollow when he pressed on them, and crackled ominously. A tree bigger around than he was tipped easily when he pushed, breaking off at the roots. He advanced slowly, feeling his way with mana more than his eyes, searching for the vent. All he could feel was the algae, which was so suffused with mana that it blocked his senses like a wall. There weren't any other strong sources of mana within a mile, he was sure. The vent had to be inside the pond, beneath the algae.

The scummy, mana-infused surface could be hiding anything.

Nervously, he approached the shore with his blade out and his protective sheath in his other hand. The surface moved. He expected ripples, but it was more like a lurch, and then the green mass was still.

He edged closer, until his feet were nearly in the water, but the green mantle continued to block his perception. He probed more actively, sending a pulse of magic into the water.

The surface lurched again. This time, it started as a wave at the opposite side of the pond and headed directly for him, gaining height and speed as it advanced. It grew taller than he was, and there was … detritus inside the wave. Rotting fish as large as his walleye. Otter skeletons. Decaying plants.

Just as the wave reached him, Taylor threw up an all-purpose barrier taller than the wave, extending ten feet to either side of him. It was expensive, mana-wise, but he only needed it for a few seconds. He needed to see what was inside the wave.

The foul mass of algae and decay slammed his barrier, then started to climb over it. It wasn't fast, but it was huge and it poured over his defense.

The algae was the monster in the pond. It was a colony, capable of movement, maybe even sentience.

Taylor leaped back and threw down several Slice spells and cut pieces off the colony's body. But whatever he cut off was rejoined to the advancing mass. He retreated again and again, and the algae kept chasing him, until most of the pond was outside the pond, trying to reach him. He kept hitting it with nearly everything in his non-systemized arsenal.

Spear did even less than Slice.

Pushback worked, but only on part of the huge monster, and the algae simply regained the lost ground a few seconds later.

Rock Shot wasn't any better than Slice or Spear.

Fog didn't confuse it.

Slip slowed it down, but only if Taylor covered everything with the friction-erasing effect, including trees. Without something it could pull against, the algae couldn't move.

Slip plus Pushback was very good at forcing the algae away, but it didn't hurt the colony at all. Also, the monster was over two acres wide. It could go around any slip-zone Taylor could keep free.

With his usually dependable arsenal rendered useless, he turned to standard spells and their so-called attributes.

Light Spear and Lightning Bolt both made the algae happy. Light made it grow, and lightning made it faster.

Water Ball was pointless. The algae lived in water. Giving it more didn't hurt it.

Fire Lance was more promising. The colony fled from fire, but water soon extinguished it. The damage wasn't enough, but it was a starting point.

When Taylor cut off a section of algae and purified the water, leaving behind a vivid green powder, the colony soon reclaimed its lost cells. But if he set the powder on fire, the colony ignored the ash.

He resorted to using his sword once, when the algae got tired of his experiments with fire. It surged forward and tried to envelop him. The besieged magician channeled fire magic through his sword and swung it in broad arcs, surrounding himself with flames. It was shamefully inefficient but an effective deterrent. The monster quivered and backed away. Taylor shot Fire Lances at the colony until it retreated beneath the pond's surface.

Then he climbed the hill and rested in the sun with Kasper, while Tristan sampled nearby grasses.

"Is it strong?"

"It's a colony, like the bees, but much, much bigger. And it's weird. So yes, I would say it's strong."

"You could use the smoker."

Taylor laughed as he dug for the last of Cook's packed meals. Blake must have introduced Kasper to his bees, and shown him how the smoke makes them docile.

"This monster probably likes smoke. But, just like Blake with his bees, we have to be smarter than the colony. And we need to be prepared."