A half-hour later and I am still sitting beneath the fig tree, recovering my senses and sorting my thoughts on the Kiln, Proximo Aetós, that I just consumed. ‘He sounded like he was a decent man in life, but he still ended up in Tenebrous. Is that how it’s supposed to be?’

Next to me is Terra, who is preparing to attempt the contract between the Dualistic Kiln and me, and Earl, who is staring off into nothingness and tapping her fingers against the ground.

Terra takes a deep breath and says, “Okay, luckily, I think I can still support an intermediary contract like this. I’m going to give it a go if you’re ready.”

{What is thy limit when it comes to contracts, as in, how many can thou support or make?}

While her quill grinds against the pages of her silver tome, she purses her lips thinking. “Hmm, right now, I guess my limit is a single lifetime reciprocal contract, a handful of lesser subordinate contracts, and then this domination contract as an intermediate. I might be able to make my own domination contract if I can get my skill points distributed.”

I tilt my head. {Aye, I have the same issue with skill points. I have them, but they seem to be going a tad slower this time around. I think it is because I have not been doing what I need to in order to get them to go where I wish.} A thought crosses my mind, so I ask, {What is thy level, by the way?}

“Getting into the Cosmic System gets you from level 0 to level 1, and your first ten skill points.” She lifts her hand with four of her fingers extended. “Since then, I’ve been able to get three more levels.”

{Thou art level 4!? I only just got level 3 in my flame; my shell is only level 2!}

Terra tilts her head. “Yeah, I got one, almost two, from the rat and flies. Then I got the last bit of level 3, plus one more, from squashing bugs that left the sewers for several days with Lorcan, Summer, and the other escorts. It takes more and more Essence to level every time, though.” Thinking for a moment, she finally asks, “And did I hear you correctly when you said you had two different levels?”

{...Thou doth not?}

“As far as I am aware, everyone only has one level,” she responds.

Earl’s lantern squeaks as she shakes her head at Terra. “Statement: That’s not true for Kiln. Kiln level their shells and flames separately, and they receive skill points for both of them.”

“So she’s essentially level 5? Why have two different levels?”

“Response: Because Kiln are typically separated into two parts: physical and spiritual, soul and consciousness, shell and flame. So it’s natural that they would have two levels and why the Cosmic System acknowledges that flame and shell are both the same but also different. That’s also ignoring the more intricate parts of the Kiln.” Earl turns away from Terra, signaling she is not interested in any further questions. “Query: If the contract is going to happen, should it not happen before the five hairy fleshies return?”

“Yes, yes, as interested as I am, it should. Then Constance can put her arc suit back on, and we can discuss other things.” Her eyes turn toward me. “Speaking of which, are you ready, Constance?”

{Aye, I am.}

Flipping her tome to a particular page, she stops it with her finger, looks it over, and then places the silver tome between the Kiln and me. “This isn’t a reciprocal contract, so it should be a bit less complicated and involved,” she says.

A rather sizable blue wall appears before me.

My eyes scan the blue wall. I read it slowly and carefully, allowing myself time to understand it. ‘Well, this is certainly different from the Hex Church’s contracts. The Hex Church’s contract felt very formal and, I suppose, ‘human’ in nature. This one seems more open-ended and speaks of spiritual things as if I should know what it’s speaking of already. It does warn against breaching the contract and going beyond what one is capable of, but it does not state each and every stipulation or boundary like the Hex Church’s.’ Reading the latter part of the wall, I glance at the weak Kiln. ‘I doubt they shall have much reaction, seeing as they cannot move, so aye. I shall extend the offer.’

I feel a tiny bit of push back, but it fades a second later.

We sit silently for twenty or so minutes, waiting for the wall to see if the wall will change to something else.

Earl huffs. “Statement: The other Interface is indecisive. This one thinks it is likely why the Kiln ended up in the coffin in the first place.” She grins and adds, “Suggestion: Retract the offer and wait for the Interface to panic.”

“Yeah, waiting a few minutes isn’t a bad idea,” Terra says, nodding in agreement. “As far as they’re aware, they may never get a third chance, so they might be quicker to just allow the contract to go through.”

{That seems a touch mean-spirited if I am honest.}

“Of course, we all want to be ‘good-spirited’ about this...” She glances at Earl before continuing, “...But there’s really no point in us sitting around waiting for them to think it over. As bad as it sounds, they don’t really have a choice, and we are being generous with this offer. If they deny this contract, the only thing we could offer them would be a worse variant of this contract.”

{I… I suppose.} With a tiny nod, I state my desire to retract the offer in my head, and the wall vanishes. {We cannot leave this position until they provide us an answer, and this is already the best contract we could safely offer them, so waiting does indeed accomplish nothing.} 

While we allow some time to pass, I talk to Terra about the contract, and we compare her past experiences with the contract I just extended to the Kiln, Fey. When twenty more minutes have gone by, we once more extend the contract offer. 

This time the second wall does not even have the chance to appear.

From Terra’s tome, a familiar violet flame rises from its pages. The violet flame is at first alone, but this only persists for a moment because a second, unfamiliar flame soon joins it. This second flame consists of both the colors white and orange that wind together, forming a single complete flame that rivals the size of my own. My violet flame breaks away and encases Fey’s Kiln. Fey’s orange and white flame does the same, except it enters my haze and surrounds my kiln. A symbol that looks like two girls holding hands, one orange the other white, twists itself into shape above both of our kilns. Then atop the girls rises the outline of a willow tree with a noose dangling from one of its limbs.

Everything sinks into the shells of our kiln, and then another blue wall appears, replacing the one from before it.

The wall vanishes just as I look toward the little Kiln laying across from me. ‘Aye, it is done. Let’s see if the future holds anything for us, Fey. When and if I can repair thy kiln, I pray that thee art reasonable and we can work together like the other Kiln were with each other.’ My haze starts drifting back into the Arc Suit. ‘I must admit it is nice to have found someone like me… Though I love speaking to Terra, and I shan’t stop doing that any time soon, there are some things that others just cannot understand until they have experienced it themselves.’

“Everything okay, Constance?” Terra asks, closing her tome with a tired sigh.

“Aye, everything is fine. I was just thinking it shall be nice to have someone that shares my experiences to talk to.” My vision darkens as my body drifts into the arc suit, and I push my head into the helmet. “To be honest, it feels like every day my world grows larger with more variety and opportunities. I am very thankful for that.”

Raising myself, I see Terra’s smiling face. “I know how you feel.” The sounds of a man, an ape, and three rats echoes from a nearby thicket. “Oh, and hey, you and Lorcan share a few things in common, and you still need to learn what sign language you can from him.”

‘I share a few things in common with Lorcan…? I suppose I had red hair when I was living, but I am not certain what else we could have in common.’

“Ah, and tomorrow, I’ll be handing your list off to someone who’s going to inform the individuals privately, but I think we’ll be publicly announcing the group winners.”

“I suppose it is so the groups cannot hide that they have been given tokens from their own members?”

“Yeah, and the individuals will be told privately to protect their safety. We’ll be doing the expedition the day after tomorrow, so you and Byron can get to work.” She smiles and continues, ‘And you aren’t off tomorrow either, because we have those remote meetings with the Consortium and the military.”

My body slumps and slides back to the ground. {Aye. I thank thee for the reminder.}

---

---

It’s the next day, and I am walking through the camps, attracting lots of attention as I always do nowadays—quite a difference from when I was just a haze girl hiding in the hedges. 

Not long ago, I left the remote meeting with the Consortium, and it was exhausting. Good lord, they yell a lot and talk about nothing but ‘profit margin,’ and for the first time since becoming a Kiln, I thought I might legitimately fall asleep.

Speaking of which, I am actually walking by a special tent the Consortium erected to function as a store, except they are not selling any supplies; they are renting something.

In a low and somber voice, a woman begins to speak, “We here at the Consortium greatly value your business during these hard times.” The somber voice is replaced by one that is much higher and perkier. “And that’s why we’re running a special rental program in your area only!” An image of a bronze clicker appears on a board outside. Next to the clicker is a family staring at it curiously. “Meet the Cog™, a never before seen defensive unit that can help you, the common man, protect your family for an affordable price as low as...!” Overtop the clicker appears both the numbers ‘$1,333/3hr,’ and an image in the background of children playing with toys while the clicker floats above them. “That’s right! All you need to do is schedule a start and end time for your Cog™, and for $999.99 an hour or for today only $1,333 for three hours, you can have this state-of-the-art technology keeping your family safer, or your money back GUARANTEED!”

This store and the ‘promotion’ are part of the agreement we made with the Consortium. I did not understand most of it, but to summarize what I did understand, the Consortium just unveiled the clickers to the world, and now they want to use New York as a ‘proving ground’ for the clicker and any future devices. They were doing this in Anchorage to an extent, but they said New York has humans, more variety, and is closer to Chicago, so they can save money doing it here.

The clickers are their first product, of course. Their plan consists of them renting to people for defense, and later, to people that want to enter the Tower. We did not agree to allow them into the Tower yet, but we did agree to consider it when the Tower was in a better place. All of this was in addition to us agreeing to provide them with 10.37% of all sable, 3% of all vermillion, and 1% of all heliotrope haze that is extracted from the Tower. 

They fought tooth and nail for that additional ‘0.37%,’ and good lord, we spent over an hour arguing over nothing but that ‘0.37%.’ I would have given them a lot more to just let it end, but Terra said we cannot afford to bend too easily or they will keep trying to ‘push us around’ in the future.

What we added was the stipulation that they transport it all themselves and inform us of anything they discover about the haze. In addition to that, we convinced them to give us the equipment they used to siphon haze in the past. The main thing we get out of all this is that they shall continue to provide us with a certain amount of goods for as long as our deal remains in place. They will also assist in any government dealings and help keep them from directly interfering.

All of that is contingent on us siphoning a sufficient amount of haze, and I still do not know how much we can actually remove from the roots before it’s an issue.

Behind me, someone yawns and then says, “Yo, yo, Fairy. What’s up?”

I spin around, finding the face of a slim, sweaty man with black hair and brown eyes displayed upon the front of a Consortium scouting orb.

We agreed to one other thing: I would help ‘advertise’ the clickers by allowing a group of five clickers to be my guards while I am moving around the camps. It was actually Terra that asked for this. She has been more protective of me since the Kiln incident a few weeks ago.

The man on the scouting orb is, of course, Gary.

“So, what’s on the agenda?” Gary asks, sitting up in his chair and brushing some crumbs from his shirt. “You don’t really have to tell me if you don’t want to, by the way. I’m just curious what I should be prepared for.”

Looking down at the whiteboard in my hands, I write, “I am going to visit the chamber pot tunnels to see how they have changed.”

“Chamber pot tunnels? I assume you mean the sewers. Well, with five Cogs, that shouldn’t be an issue, but I recommend we don’t go in.”

“I am just looking. There are things I want to do, but I cannot commit the time nor justify the risk just yet.”

“Cool, cool, well, I’ve been told not to bother you too much, so I’ll do my best.”

“I am counting on thee, Gary.”

Reading my words, Gary smiles and gives me a thumbs up. “Yeah, o-of course.”

So as I informed Gary, we walk toward an area where I heard the ‘Orm’s Finite Scale’ was slaying bugs that were abandoning the chamber pot tunnels. They sound like a dubious bunch, in all honesty, but if they are defending the camps, they are among the strongest of the people. At least it seems like a natural assumption that the people who believe there are only so many levels and have spent every day fighting bugs would be some of the highest leveled individuals.

Making my way along the edges of the camps, I avoid as many people as I can until I arrive at the most southwesterly point of the park. It’s here that groups of people have gathered around in an area that has numerous entrances that would allow access to the chamber pot tunnels. They seem to have removed all the metal plates that once covered the holes and gathered around in groups in a five hundred foot area called ‘Columbus Circle.’ 

I stop near a rather tall monument and turn my head upward. The monument consists of several statues at its base, a fountain, and then a bronze statue of a woman riding a seashell chariot being pulled by three horses at its peak.

‘I thought it was just that one group here, but this seems closer to a festival than a battlefield.’

“Ah, lost toe roundabout.”

Hearing Gary speaking, I lower my gaze from the monument.

“That’s the name Lincoln and Pierce gave this area after someone shot their toe, and everyone decided it would be best to start using bladed and blunt weapons instead,” Gary says, spinning around in a circle. “Over here, you got Broadway, the Maine Monument, and then the big globe sculpture. All this beautiful architecture and the whole area absolutely stinks because of that...”

I turn in the direction Gary is facing, where I find heaps of rotting meat and carcasses. There are around a dozen of these heaps in total, and all of them are both taller and wider than most men are tall. The heaps are full of what appears to be a disordered mixture of giant, twisted bugs and rodents. Looking at the ground around them, I also notice there are several areas where piles of cold ash are strewn about, indicating that they have burned some of these heaps in the past.

‘It feels like a waste to burn so much meat….’

Gary turns away from the heaps of insects. “They toss them in a stack like that and let them rot. Doing that attracts even more bugs from the sewers, which they’ll then stab and then toss into the pile in a neverending cycle of disgustingness.”

Writing on my whiteboard, I ask, “These insects are only around the size of a watermelon, are there bigger ones?”

“...Well, first, I’d like to point out that bugs are not usually ‘the size of a watermelon,’ but to answer your question, yes. Since you’re a loose Consortium associate, I can tell you that we’ve seen government reports that stated they’ve seen bugs the size of small cattle. They are however thought to be much lower in numbers and stay down in the sewers where they inhabit areas that have larger entrances and exits for their bodies.”

‘The size of small cattle. That is rather big, but it’s not abhorrently giant at the very least.’

“Doth thou knoweth the nearest area with entrances and exits of that size?”

“Yeaaaah, I think it was just over a mile to the northwest of Bethesda Terrace, at a pumping station.” Tapping his finger against his desk, he shrugs and then says, “That doesn’t mean there aren’t other places they’ve squirmed their way into, but that’s the closest one I’d know about.”

“Is there anything else thou can tell me about those types of locations? Like their present condition and such?”

“All sewage treatment plants, pumping stations, and their immediate surroundings have been abandoned or evacuated by this point. I can say that New York has two sewer lines and they are both changing differently. Anyway, if you want to know more than that, you’d have to go and deal with all the backed-up sewage, bugs, and whatever is happening down there yourself.”

‘Something to keep an eye on in the near future perhaps, but I do not have the time for such a thing right now. Though, I have only vented haze into the chamber pot tunnels near me. Does that mean other Kiln are venting into the other tunnels? Interesting.’

“What is the state of the rest of the city?”

“Hmm, well, water is still being pumped to areas that don’t have frozen or burst pipes and the city is somehow managing to provide around eight hours of electricity a day. Grocery stores are struggling to get any food at all, never mind fresh foods, and hospitals are overwhelmed, running on generators to keep going, but fuel is becoming a serious issue…. Yeah, so all in all, not great.”

I nod. ‘Aye. Things are barely holding up.’

Hearing some cheers from a particularly loud area, I turn to see a giant roach with countless legs growing out of its front and back crawl out of the tunnels. Before it even has the chance to feel the sun upon its carapace and numerous legs, a spear stabs it in the back, and it’s flung into the heap of meat.

The people notice my presence, and whispers begin to spread as one person after another turns to look at both me and the clickers floating around me. A look of realization spreads through the crowd. Many start to don serious expressions and gather around the open holes leading to the chamber pot tunnel’s as if they are soldiers prepared to strike at any enemy that emerges. Though they act like they are ready for anything, I can see many of them are exhausted and barely standing.

“They’re trying to impress you for one of the tokens.” Gary laughs. “A month ago, half these people hadn’t done a day of cardio since they were kids. Now they act like they are monster hunters.”

While I watch the occasional insect crawl up and out of the chamber pot tunnels, I also take the opportunity to see what kind of relationship has been established between the local groups. In one corner I can see Church in Light standing around together, attempting to speak to those around them, but no one really seems intent on humoring them. Next to them is a group of people all speaking what I assume is a foreign language, making them totally estranged from those around them. In the very back, behind everyone else, I can see the smaller groups have been shoved away from the holes leading into the chamber pot tunnels, and these smaller groups are forced to watch from afar.

The splits developing and the clear hierarchy in the making are a tad worrying. These are the same things I used to watch occur between the noble boys in London. The children of merchants made friends with the children of other merchants, the royals with other royals, old money with old money, and so on. This sort of thing would often cause issues if left alone for too long.

Two men break away from separate groups and hastily walk toward my line of clickers. One man has light brown hair, a clean-shaven face, and a more rounded face. While the other man has blonde hair, a red beard, fair skin, thin lips, and a long face.

“Hey, Fairy,” one of the men says. “I’m Ethan Green, with the Towering Swords Camaraderie.”

“Back off,” the other man says in a thick accent. “We’ve been here longer than anyone.”

Ethan raises his hands and replies, “Fine, I’ll wait my turn then.”

The man with the blonde hair and thick accent attempts to enter my circle of clickers, but they close up. “Sorry, kid, but you aren’t allowed in without the Fairy’s permission.” Gary turns toward the crowd and says, “Not while she’s protected by Consortium technology, available for rental at the Consortium’s tent in Sheep Meadow!”

He stares at the clicker, unsure how to respond to Gary’s floating face.

Sighing, Gary looks back at me, and I motion for him to move aside.

‘I am the Fairy right now, so let’s try to handle this as a knight would.’ 

While Gary moves out of the way, I write, “Perhaps it is rude of me, but I do not seem to recognize thee. Couldst thou do me the honor of an introduction?”

He stares at the whiteboard for a long time, and I can tell he is having a hard time reading such flawless handwriting. “I’m Swedish, but my English is pretty good. Still, that level of cursive is hard for me to read.” 

I mark out my words and rewrite them with less superbness and then show him once again.

Studying it for a moment, he nods. “Ja, sorry. My name is Nyle Olsen. I’m Orm’s grandson and the current pontiff of Orm’s Finite Scale.”

‘Ah, this was who I was looking for. Orm must have been alive not that long ago. I would think Nyle’s father would be pontiff, though.’

Setting my thoughts aside, I write, “Well met, Nyle, just call me Fairy, I suppose. Now, it seems there is some type of issue?” 

I presume he was expecting more of a confrontation because now that he has my attention, he seems slow to speak. “...It’s good to meet you too, but yes, there is.” He points at Ethan behind him. “Why does this group of hardly twenty people get three tokens, one great and two lesser, when our group of almost a hundred fifty only get one lesser? They’ve done hardly anything, and only just started their little group two days ago.”

“We’ve been a group since we arrived three weeks ago. We just added the ‘Towering Swords’ a few hours after the Tower appeared,” I hear Ethan say from behind him. “Honestly, I’m surprised they even got our name change so quickly.”

‘I likely would not have if Gen and the Elderly Rats did not ruin some of the papers. Terra had to make a new list while I changed my muddy skirt.’ 

“Either way, my point still stands,” Nyle says once more, waving toward Ethan.

Glancing around, I can see everyone is watching the spectacle. The only sounds are whispers and the crunch of steel running through the occasional insect.

The squeak of my marker against the whiteboard causes the whispers to cease. “And what is it thou hath done that makes thy group worthy of a greater token?”

Nodding his head at the piles of insects, he says, “Half of those were made by us. We’ve been out here defending the camps from those things.”

“Aye, and it is appreciated. Everyone in the camp owes thee, and all the other people gathered here thanks.” Removing a cloth from my pouch, I hold up my finger, erase the whiteboard and then write, “However, am I correct in assuming that thou wouldst be doing this regardless. With or without the camps?”

“Yeah, maybe, but we are helping the camps, so don’t we deserve one of the top one hundred tokens for that?” Nyle answers.

“Nay, because this is not about helping the camps, this is about thy desire to gather Essence.”

Showing Nyle the whiteboard, he reads it aloud, goes quiet, and shakes his head. If I had to guess, he is having a hard time understanding, perhaps partially due to differences in language.

Ethan shuffles between two clickers and shouts, “She’s saying you’re out here killing bugs for yourself. That it has nothing to do with you wanting to help anyone, and you’d be doing what you’re doing now either way. So you’re basically asking to be rewarded for just existing.” 

Removing my sticky papers from the pouch around my belt, I pen a note, finishing just as Nyle’s frustration is starting to build.

As Nyle is about to turn around and yell at Ethan, I grab his shoulder. I hold up the whiteboard that reads, “Speak to the ‘Free People’s Beast Directory Project’ and see if thou may help them. I also desire the same things as they do, but either way, it is a quest for thee that is not quite so self-serving.”

I hand him the sticky note, and everyone around gasps, causing me to narrow my eyes and glance around. The word ‘quest’ spreads like fire across a wheat field. ‘Why do the oddest things cause people of this era to react like this?’

Taking a second sticky note, I leave Nyle and hand the second note to Ethan. He looks at it and reads it aloud. “I beseech thee, select one other pilgrim from a group that is not from thy own for a quest. I request that thou and thy partner capture and transport any living creatures that have evolved or mutated to me or, if I cannot be found, the Free People’s Beast Directory Project. Those that deliver me the most impressive and unique creatures will each receive a greater token. The pair beneath them will each receive a lesser token.”

While he stares at the note, I return my pen and sticky papers to my pouch and then write, “This quest is open to anyone that is willing to try, but more importantly, is there something thou needed?”

Ethan looks away from the note and then nods. Taking a breath, he hesitates before saying, “Yeah, I’ll jump straight to the point and say that I’m the head of the Towering Sword Camaraderie, and we want to turn down the top one hundred token you rewarded our group.”

I tilt my head, flip the whiteboard over, and write, “May I ask why?”

He reads the whiteboard, sighs, and then rubs the back of his head. “Well, to be honest, we were all pretty stoked at first when we received word, but word spread fast, and people weren’t happy to hear such a small and unknown group got three tokens. We’ve been harassed all day, and we don’t have the numbers to keep people off our backs.”

I glance back at Nyle, who turns away. “They do not believe that the Towering Sword Camaraderie deserved the greater token then?” I write, showing it so that only Ethan can see.

“I mean, I guess so. It’s just been a lot to deal with already, and I don’t really want to see it escalate.”

Thinking for a moment, I shake my head. “It was given to thou because thy group was qualified and also the only one that said they were willing to protect the Tower if it came down to it. Everyone else just wants to take from the Tower, but the Towering Sword Camaraderie was the only one willing to step up if the need ever arose. That is why the Mistress thought thee were worthy of recognition.”

“Is… is that what it was?” he asks with a small laugh. “It just seemed like it made sense to protect the thing that was trying to help you, y’know.”

“That is an admirable thought, and it’s certainly not a common one right now when people are worried about their own futures.” I erase the whiteboard with my cloth and then continue, “But if the token is causing issues, instead of trying to turn it down, why does thy group not prove they deserve it instead? If not, then I shall take it back.” I nod at the little sticky note in his hand. “This is thy chance,” I scribble onto my whiteboard.

Tucking the whiteboard beneath my arm, I wave farewell and then turn to leave with the clickers before someone else grows confident enough to approach me. This whole business is not my forte. I am just acting the part of what I think a knight should be and repeating things that I always wished someone had said to me. If I stay around too long, there’s the risk that my facade will collapse, and I shan’t be able to recover it.

“Yeah, thanks. We’ll give it a shot,” I hear Ethan say.

Glancing over, I see and hear Nyle murmur, “The first quest and we have to do it with an outsider? Ridiculous.”

‘Were people actually expecting a quest or something? Why? ...Why would people think I would offer quests?’ As a flurry of snow starts to fall over the crowd, I shake my head and commence walking back into the park. ‘Aye, I do not know, but I still have to sit through another one of those awful meetings. This one is with the noble’s military too.’

Tomorrow the groups and token holders will come together for the first expedition into the Tower. It is also when I can begin to experiment with the Tower’s future residents.