Chapter Thirty
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While the bipedal golems slowly strolled down the long, empty sidewalk, I rode my steed up and down the street, getting a solid feel for how it moved and responded to my directions. I did have some experience in horseback riding, though that only helped me stay on its back. Unaided, my mount was going probably around sixty miles per hour, though I honestly had no way of knowing for sure without a speed gun of some sort. All I could tell was that I could make it from one end of the long street all the way to the other in just under thirty seconds. My best guess was that the street was just under a half mile long, which was how I calculated my speed.

When I pushed my magic into the quadruped golem, that speed increased dramatically. It was even harder to tell at that speed just how long it took, but I was pretty sure it was around twenty-three seconds.

Of course, speed wasn't the only important point, as the mount's maneuverability was just as, if not more important. The golem was small enough that I could weave in between traffic, but I didn't quite trust it to run. However, I could use my druidcraft control to tighten up all the gaps and empty space inside the equine construct. It reduced its top speed by a noticeable amount, maybe to around fifty miles per hour with my magic, but it made a visually notable difference in its size as well, meaning I had much more faith that it could easily fit through traffic.

He could also easily clear cars with a jump, which I tested by having the bipedal golems stand in the road. I might have clipped them a couple times as I was getting used to everything, but soon, we were easily jumping them. The controls for the steed were tuned pretty well, using a combination of movements, sound, and the reins. The golem interpreted my commands and movements precisely, and I knew as I got better, so would the stallion.

To say I was absolutely ecstatic with my creation was an understatement, especially considering that this was just the beginning. The best part about golems was that they were massively customizable. Not only could I remove the golem core and upgrade it any time that I wanted, but I could also affix various magical items to the golem as well, letting them do basically anything I could think of. I was still limited to ritualized items at this point, but that was hardly a shallow limit. I already had plans to add stun wands to their arms when I got around to making those.

On top of all that, I could also physically modify the golem as well. Typically, that would involve removing the golem core and physically modifying or repairing the golem frame, but I had my druidcraft, so shifting the shape of my living golems was easy. I already added a vine and bark side holster for my staff alongside my steed, the chunk of blue crystal poking out the top.

While I was testing my top speed, it didn't take long for me to lose track of time, galloping up and down the road, laughing and cackling at my successful creation. Unfortunately, while the street was mostly shops, businesses, and office space, there must have been someone around to report me.

About an hour into my totally necessary and definitely not just for fun experiment, I could hear the sounds of a distant motor. It got louder as it got closer until it came around the corner to reveal a motorcycle. It was the standard cop cycle design, with emergency lights along its front and back, cargo on the back half, and a chunky front end. It was painted mostly black, with gray highlights and the PRT logo along both sides. Riding it was Miss Militia, who parked the vehicle and climbed off, stopping as I approached her, still on my mount

"Arcanum…wanna explain what's going on here?" She asked as I approached. "We got a complaint of some sort of horse riding cape running up and down the street. You're lucky they got a good enough look at your face to describe your mask; otherwise, I would have shown up with the cavalry."

"Sorry about that, Miss Militia," I said, chuckling at her joke as I dropped down off of my golem, patting his side as I got closer. "I didn't think anyone lived on this road, guess I was wrong. I'm just doing some testing of my new ride."

"About that… what exactly is... it?" She asked, gesturing to my golem.

"First off, let me just say that it's not actually alive," I explained, holding up my hands. "Well… technically, it's a tree, so it kind of is, but it's not like a new life form or anything."

The female hero gave me a very not-impressed look, and I couldn't help but chuckle and nod.

"Yeah, okay, fair enough. So I've mentioned that internal power source I have? It lets me do everything I can, and I recently discovered it has some plant manipulation abilities. Like a plant control Striker ability, to put it into PRT terms."

"... the rapid production trees at the old camp," She said, her eyes going wide. "Those were you! We thought you had inspired another cape to try and give back!"

"Yeah, that was me, but to be clear, I am not a bio-tinker," I explained, wincing at the visible flinch that Miss Militia had at the mention of "bio-tinker." "I'm not creating new life, just enhancing and manipulating what already exists. Striker, not bio-tinker."

She nodded before suddenly tensing up. Her hand went to her hip, where her power was already shifting into a standard-issue police pistol. As she drew her weapon, she stepped closer, but also around me, keeping her weapon aimed downward as she put her hand on my shoulder, trying to push me to the side. I turned to see the four bipedal golems had finally caught up, stepping through the light of a lamp a bit further down the road.

"Oh, I made those too," I explained, whistling for the golems to stop. "Same concept, different shape. They are defensive… well I've been calling them golems cause it fits. Think of them like tinker constructs."

She stared at the constructs, then back at me. Slowly, she holstered her weapon, which, rather than simply sitting in her holster, flickered into a switchblade, then back into a Colt revolver. It made me wonder if she was doing it on purpose or if flipping its shape around was more like a nervous tik.

"What are they for?" She asked, watching as the hunched-over constructs of wood, bark, and vine settled to the ground on my order.

"To protect the homeless community that hangs out not far from here," I said vaguely, trying to give the woman deniable plausibility when it came to their location. "They should heavily discourage any further bullshit from the E88."

"So… you're not going out hunting for them?" She asked, sounding surprised.

"What? No!" I responded with wide eyes. "Not yet, anyway, I don't have the kind of experience I want, nor do I have a proper grip on my power. Eventually, I plan on… well doing something about them, but that's in the future. Right now, just making sure that the community is left alone is my priority. If they attack me there... well, there's not much I can do about that."

"That's good to hear," She said, seeming genuinely glad. "Rogue or vigilant capes rarely survive long on their own, especially when they push back against established gangs. Your powers may be extensive, but that can only get you so far."

"I'm aware," I said with a smile, though she couldn't see it through my mask.

For a long moment, she was silent, and while I assumed someone was talking in her ear, we were too close for Alya to whisper to me. After a few seconds of silence on her part, she nodded.

"Arcanum, influencing living material like this, even if it's only a striker ability, it sets off a lot of red flags," She explained. "We already have samples of the fruit and trees-"

"The trees should be dead by… well, honestly, you should have already started to see some minor signs of degradation," I pointed out. "Unless you already cut and burned them down?"

"We monitored the area, but since they didn't seem to be putting out any pollen or other contaminants, there was no need to cut them down," She explained. "Are you telling me they die on their own?"

"When I have them producing so much food, yeah," I responded with a nod. "And they weren't making pollen because they were sterilized, as were all the fruits. Nothing will grow from them. They won't even accept grafts, and if you tried to take one, it would wither in just under an hour. Even if you managed to connect a graft to a new tree in a few minutes, it would kill the tree by the end of the day. Producing that much fruit that fast is hell on the tree."

"So they have no way to reproduce, and they would die quickly without consistent attention," She confirmed, to which I nodded. "That is good. Those sorts of limitations make people feel much better. And their fruit is safe?"

"Yeah, of course, I wouldn't have bothered if it wasn't. I've eaten some myself," I explained with a shrug. "It's just normal fruit stuff, just grown really fast. I have no intention of selling any of the produce. Hell, it's not even that high quality."

"What do you mean?"

"I could make a tree produce the best apple you have ever tasted," I explained. "But it would take time. Not as much as a normal tree, mind you, but still a few weeks, at least. But the goal wasn't to taste amazing, it was to feed as many people as possible. All the fruit that the accelerated trees grow tastes vaguely off-season. Not bad, not great, just a solid meh."

Miss Militia, trying as she might to keep up, seemed a bit stunned by the deluge of information I was giving her. Honestly, I didn't mind explaining what my druidcraft was capable of because, at this point, it had very little bearing in combat. If it ever went up in level, that might change, but for now, it was a helpful tool that took time and effort to use and was, therefore, primarily useless in the heat of battle. Not only that but if it did level up, then plenty of what I was telling her would change, meaning any info I was feeding them would no longer be accurate.

"And what about these?" She finally asked, gesturing to my horse and the frozen-in-place golems, as well as my horse. "How exactly do these work?"

"Oh, they are something different," I said simply. "Like I said, think of them like tinker tech. They don't reproduce, so no worries there."

There was a pause as she waited for me to elaborate, a few seconds passing before she finally realized that I had no intention to.

"Very well, I suppose we should be glad that you didn't try and do this during the day," She admitted, giving me a harsh look. "Still, you're making a lot of noise…"

"Really? I didn't know they sent heroes out to investigate noise complaints," I fired back, chuckling at the idea. "Speaking of which, did they wake you up for this? Cause I feel bad enough now that I know I've been keeping people up around here."

"No, I take the night shift since I don't sleep," she explained, continuing when I tilted my head in the universal for confusion. "I'm a Noctis Cape, I don't sleep. I haven't since I got my powers."

"I… didn't know that was a thing," I admitted, though I regretted it the moment I did, as she looked at me strangely.

Now it was her turn to tilt her head in confusion, not understanding how I didn't know something that was apparently common knowledge. At least it was here. Mentally, I cursed my lack of knowledge. I did all sorts of research when I first arrived here, doing my best to catch up, but it still occasionally slipped my mind that I needed to be careful. I did my best to stay calm, though, using the same excuse I usually did for not knowing cape stuff.

"But that's what I get for not paying attention to the cape scene when I was younger and in school," I continued with a shrug. "They told me it was important, but… it never seemed like it to me, but now look at me, scrambling to do my research and still missing some stuff."

That seemed to satisfy her, and she nodded understandingly. After a moment, she broached a new topic.

"Arcanum, how against joining the Protectorate are you?" She asked, holding up her hand to hold off my immediate response. "I know you don't exactly trust this branch after what happened, but what about a different branch? You could do a lot of good in another city, but with the support system to keep you alive. Friends, allies, people to fight with you and keep you from being overwhelmed."

For a long moment, I stared at the patriotic heroine, shocked by her words. For all intents and purposes, running off to another branch didn't benefit this one at all. She wanted me to run to another city purely because she wanted me to have proper protection and support.

"I... honestly, if you had asked me that a few weeks ago, I might have actually taken you up on that offer," I admitted with a shake of my head. But now I have responsibilities here, people who are depending on me. I can't just abandon them now."

She nodded in understanding, as if expecting that response. She held out her hand, and we shook silently. She quickly climbed back onto her motorcycle before finally looking back at me.

"Well, Arcanum, I'm glad you're not running off to do anything stupid. Don't be afraid to call us if you need help." She said with a nod, her eyes crinkling with a smile. "And try to keep it down. People are trying to sleep."

"What? Not gonna say you have a perfect horse speed measuring device, we just need to go get some power testing done?" I asked, the military-inspired cape snorting as she hopped onto her motorcycle.

"I don't think we have a treadmill quite that big," She admitted, her eyes crinkling slightly in a way that showed she was smiling. "Have a good night, Arcanum."

"You too Miss Militia."

She started her cycle back up, and I easily remounted my four-legged golem. I watched as she drove away, turning onto one of the many intersecting roads and disappearing out of sight. I gave a soft whistle to the golems, all four of which left the sidewalk to follow behind me. We trotted away, eventually leaving the long road behind, making my way through back alleys and abandoned roads and entering the Docks proper.

From there, it was a short ride to eventually arrive at the outskirts of the Docks community. Rather than disturb anyone, I picked a random alleyway and got the golems to all fold themselves up and huddle into a corner beside a dumpster, which I then covered with a tarp. I then had my new steed lay down on the ground before curling up against him and using him as rest.

Between the magic inherent to a golem and the magic I was pouring into him as we ran up and down the long street, the stallion golem was noticeably warm. Between that and pulling off my overcoat to use as a blanket, I slept pretty well. I was sure I would have plenty to explain the following morning, but with me there, hopefully no-one would panic.
 
Chapter Thirty One
I woke up suddenly the next morning, the realization that I was not alone yanking me from any sort of natural, gentle waking process. I had managed to sleep the whole night through, kept warm by my golem horse, only to wake up to find a handful of people, all members of the Docks community, standing at the entrance to the alleyway, watching me sleep.

"What, never seen a life-sized wooden horse before?" I asked, startling the audience.

A few of the people left as I slowly stood up and stretched. As I did, my previous words rolled around in my head a bit, and I couldn't help but shake my head.

"Your name is Troy," I said, patting my now-named steed. "I can't believe I didn't think of that before."

I put my hand on the golem to inspect it with a spell, smiling as I helped it stand up completely. The golem core was keeping the living tree alive, exactly as it was intended to. I spent a minute inspecting it, making sure everything was in top shape.

"I would call you Trojan, but that's already taken," I said with a chuckle, patting Troy's back again before turning to one of the three remaining community members. "Go get Charles and John, would you? Tell them I have something to protect for the community."

The person I was talking to's eyes went wide, and they nodded, rushing back towards the warehouse. The other people, one of whom was getting pretty close to the tarp-covered golems, took a step back as I approached. With a yank, I pulled off the tarp, exposing golems to the air and sunlight. I whistled to them, and they slowly stood, turning to orient themselves to me. As I waited for Charles and John, I went over each golem, making sure everything was in order and that the trees that made up each golem were as healthy as I could manage.

"Arcanum, good to... what the hell is that!? What is going on here?"

I turned to see John and Sarah/Mary standing there, with Charles jogging to keep up. I idly noticed that Sarah, who was also carrying a bag of groceries, looked completely calm and collected, while John had clearly run all the way here to see me.

"I would like to introduce you to your first batch of defenders," I said, gesturing to the four bipedal trees. "Four living wood golems. They are much stronger than me, a bit faster, and just about as tough. They should be more than enough to defend against low-end attacks, and when I finish with the next batch, you'll be even safer."

For a long moment, the others were silent, staring back at me while Troy pretended to eat a small tuft of grass peeking up from the concrete under our feet. It was stiff and not overly convincing, but given time, they would get more and more life-like. They might even gain a certain level of intelligence.

"You made golems… to defend against Nazis?" John asked, his eyes still wide, before he started to chuckle, shaking his head. "You really don't know how to be boring or simple, do you, Arcanum?"

"What's the point of that?" I asked. "Much more fun being unpredictable. Besides, these guys are just what we needed, something to protect the community without putting anyone in danger."

"I… do they follow commands, or…?" Charles asked, being the first to step forward.

He slowly walked around the closest hunchback tree to see it from every angle. Once he stopped, he slowly reached out, stopping before his hand made contact to ask me permission, with nothing other than a raised eyebrow.

"Go ahead. I figured I could tune them to you, John, and Sarah. That way, there will always be someone around to tell them what to do," I explained. "Other than that, they will function predominantly on their own. They will scan the area for incoming threats and adjust accordingly. Now, mind you, they aren't geniuses, more brawlers than anything, but they will get the job done, especially when we start arming them and increasing their numbers."

"How many do you intend to make?" Jonh asked, still hanging back as he watched Charles inspect the nearest golem.

"Maybe another five or six," I explained with a vague hand gesture. "It kind of depends on what I can come up with. I probably won't make any more tree golems, even if I can whip them up the easiest. There needs to be some variety."

All three of them, even Sarah, seemed more than a bit lost about how exactly they should react to everything. Rather than let them flounder about, I started showing them exactly how they could boss the golems around, moving an old abandoned car from the parking lot next to the warehouse. A pair of golems lifted the majority of the vehicle up, carrying it away and tossing it far into a different spot so that they no longer had to worry about it.

"They aren't smart, so don't expect them to follow complicated instructions, but they should fight pretty well," I explained. "Chances are four of them could handle one or two capes, but past that, you're gonna want to sacrifice them to let everyone else run.

"They aren't… alive, are they? Like treants?" Charles asked, watching one of them carry a laundry basket of fruit away from the orchard.

"No, these are no more alive than any tree," I assured him. "Each one only cost me…. Like five hundred bucks to make, which is nothing with what I'm making from healing."

"Well… you convinced me," John admitted. "You said you could link them to us?" How would you do that?"

"First… I want you three to really, truly understand what's going on here. These are dangerous tools. Loaded weapons that I am trusting you with," I explained, looking at each of them with hard eyes. "My gut tells me I can trust you three. But if you betray that trust, I will be coming for more than a pound of flesh. These guys respond to me first, so don't think you can spin them around on me. I'm not saying you would…"

I raise my hand in defense as Charles gives me an indignant look, opening his mouth to refute the idea that he would spit on my goodwill.

"Like I said, my gut says I can trust you, but this needs to be said. I would be saying the same thing, even if I was handing these over to Miss Militia," I explained, which seemed to mollify Charles. "If I catch you throwing them around to enforce your orders, or they start roughing innocent people up, I will track you down, and you won't enjoy the results."

Once again, I looked at each of them, meeting their eyes and really staring into their souls. I trusted them to use the golems properly, but even so, I would keep an eye on them anyway. Each of the golems had a small record of what it had been ordered to do, which meant I could check up on what they were up to. It wasn't more than a few hours, but it was enough to catch any of them abusing their power on a random inspection.

As I looked into their eyes, Charles and John looked back with determination and eagerness. After all, I was about to hand them something they could use to finally truly protect their people. Of course they were ready and eager. Sarah, however… she looked conflicted, even a little guilty. Before I could say anything, she spoke up.

"I… Think we should talk before you link me to anything," She admitted, seeming hesitant and unsure for the first time since I met her. "I would never use these poorly, but… you should know some things first."

I nodded, confused but focused on getting John and Charles set up first. Charles and John were not surprised by Sarah's admission of having secrets, but then again, she was a woman who frequently changed her name, snuck around and had the tendency to show up at just the right moments.

"Okay, that's fine," I said with a nod. "Let's start with John and Charles first, then we can talk."

She nodded and hung back as Charles and John stepped forward.

"Right! Well, first, I'm going to need to cut your thumbs a bit, and then I'll have you bleed a bit on each golem-"

"What?"

"Seriously?"

"...kinda glad I didn't agree fully yet…"

"Guys, listen. My powers... they are strange and weird, and they clearly have a theme," I explained, trying to calm them down. "But I promise you, this is nothing nefarious. Giving them a sample of your blood links them to you. Think of it as a strange security measure from some unusual tinker tech."

Both of the older men thought about it for a moment before John let out a long, begrudging sigh, stepping closer to me. He pulled out a knife, but I shook my head.

"I got something for that."

I cast a quick spell to numb his thumb before casting another bleeding that came with the ritual crafting subject. Blood was a powerful ingredient in both ritual crafting and as a sacrificial ingredient. After I cast the spell, his finger bled a lot, enough to link him to all four golems. I had him smear a "J" onto each golem's chest, the blood getting absorbed in seconds, leaving the golem clean. Once he was done, I healed him and repeated the process with Charles.

"Alright guys… Could you…?"

Both of them nodded and left the alleyway, John patting Sarah's shoulder as he walked away. Once Sarah/Mary, and I were alone, she let out a long breath. She looked nervous but determined.

"So… I thought you deserved to know before you… well, before you hand me all that power. I'm a parahuman."

For a moment, I stared at her, doing my best not to react poorly. After all, she had no obligation to tell me, and we didn't even know each other that well outside of me helping the camp. In fact, that she is telling me at all should mean a lot. It still unsettled me, though, knowing someone around me had powers, and I had no idea.

"Anyone I would know?"

"No! Definitely not… I keep to myself on purpose," She explained, looking around for a moment before stepping closer to the alley wall.

As she stepped closer to the shadow, it got harder for me to focus on her, like my eye kept forgetting where she was supposed to be. As she got to the darker parts, she disappeared from my sight completely. After a few seconds, I watched the same effect but in reverse.

"I can blend really well with shadows. The darker, the better," She explained. "My night vision is perfect too and… I'm better when I'm in the dark."

"Better at what?"

"Everything. It's not a massive change, but I'm faster, stronger, smarter… I heal quicker, and my stamina is better. I even learn better, at least from what I can tell."

"That's impressive," I said appreciatively. "With a stealthy ability like that, I'm not surprised no one has noticed you yet."

"I try to stay out of sight, keep anyone from noticing me," She assured me. "The worst thing I've done is borrow some cash from the Merchants. I usually spend it on food for the community."

"That… is not what I would call staying out of sight, but I understand," I pointed out, putting my hand gently on her shoulder. "Why now, though? I can't imagine it was just about the golems."

"No…. I watched you help everyone when the Empire came knocking," she admitted, sounding ashamed and guilty. "I stood in the shadows and did nothing… with how dark it was, I might have actually been able to help, but instead I just watched… like a coward."

"No, Sarah. You watched like a normal human being, probably frozen in fear and conflicted emotions," I corrected, locking eyes with her as she looked at me confused. "Can you say I'm wrong?"

"I... No, I was terrified... But still should have helped!" She said with a deep frown. "I stood there and did nothing while you took on three Nazi capes by yourself."

"Sarah, do you know what kind of person jumps off of a building, throwing around lightning and fighting Nazis?" I asked, looking at her thoughtfully. "Crazy people, Sarah. Crazy people do that. Your reaction is the normal reaction. You've got nothing to be ashamed of."

Despite still being upset, she let out a slightly wet chuckle, shaking her head a bit and wiping at her eyes.

"What if… What if I want to be a crazy person, though? What if I want to help, jumping off roofs and fight?" she asked, frowning as if she still wasn't certain herself. "Watching you face down those Empire fucks… I should be doing more."

"Honestly, Sarah, just knowing you are around the community, even if you're just sneaking around, keeping an eye on people would be a big help. In fact, I could probably offer a few things to help out with that," I pointed out, waving away her confused look. "On the other hand, I won't say no to help. The Empire is going to come for me sooner or later. I wish I could just go around my own business, helping people, but they aren't going to let what I did to Alabaster go."

She looked at me for a long moment, the scarring on her face pulling and twisting as she tried her best to read me. After a while, she nodded.

"At the very least, I will continue to watch over everyone, and… I'll be more proactive in helping in the future," She assured me, though it sounded like she was assuring herself just as much as she was me. "And… maybe I'll be able to help soon."

"That's more than enough, Sarah, I-"

"Olivia," She said, cutting me off. "My real name is Olivia."

"Oh, well... It's nice to meet you, Olivia."

I reached up to my mask, and after looking around, I could feel Alya pull close and blow a cool, encouraging breeze over my shoulders. With a smile, I pulled off my mask.

"My name's William, but you can call me Will," I said, unable to keep from chuckling when she gaped at me before I slid my mask back on. "What? You told me your name and your power. It's only fair."

"You're an idiot," She responded, ultimately failing to hide her smile. "C'mon, cut me up already so you can get to making more of those fast-producing trees. I had to keep your fruit on me all day and night to keep people from eating it."

I smirked but nodded, helping her cut her thumb so I could link her to the golems. She then passed me the bag of fruit before purposely phasing into a shadow and vanishing. I couldn't help but chuckle as she disappeared.

"I'll talk to you later," I said as she faded away.

After a few seconds, I left the alley behind, the golems following behind me.



Hey everyone, just a reminder that I have a Patreon! Being a supporter has a lot of benefits, like early chapters and access to my original content. If you are interested in those benefits or just want to support my attempt to become a full-time writer, stop by and show your support. Every dollar helps!
 
Chapter Thirty Two
Hey everyone, just a reminder that I have a Patreon! Being a supporter has a lot of benefits, like early chapters and access to my original content. You could get up to eight chapters early from this story and either four or eight from my other two. Board Members even get to vote on story beats, interludes, names, and the bonus unlock during Arcanum's recharge cycle! (The first vote was for Geomancy, and the second was Druidcraft!)

If you are interested in those benefits or just want to support my attempt to become a full-time writer, stop by and show your support. Every dollar helps!




Despite the somewhat surprising news of Olivia's powers, I had stuff to get done, so I was forced to file it away and move on with my day. I'm sure we would have more time to discuss it eventually, and it wasn't like I could drag her out of the shadows and force her to talk about it. Even if I could, I obviously wouldn't.

Once Olivia was gone, I led the golems out of the alleyway and into the open space where the community spent most of its time. I ended up giving a separate seminar on how they worked and what they were for, this time for the general group. No one else got linked up to them, but I demonstrated how handy they were and that Charles and John had control over them. Between their reputations and my own, people seemed to accept them pretty quickly, especially when they started helping out with the heavy lifting.

For a homeless community, there was a surprising amount of organized work going on.

After I was done introducing the golems to the community at large, I spent a few more hours planting trees and growing them up, enhancing them the same way I had the others. I don't know where Olivia went to get these fruits, but they now had a few fig and cherry trees. It was getting to the point that the community had a pretty seriously sized orchard going on, especially when the golems tore up some of the already crumbling parking lot to expose more dirt to plant in.

Part of me was worried that the police or PRT would show up when we started tearing up the asphalt, but Charles just snorted and shook his head.

"We are in the Docks, Arcanum. Nobody owns them, nobody wants them, nobody cares about them," He explained, shaking his head. "The only people who might be interested in them is the city, but they are too broke even to consider reinstating the police patrol out here. Never mind inspecting what we do. Trust me, unless we start burning shit down, no one cares."

When I was finally done working around the community, and I left to make a run to the hospital, Charles was already putting groups together to make runs out to singular homeless people, a few smaller camps. People were grabbing bags of fruit to bring out and distribute to people who needed them.

Meanwhile, I was starting to consider the idea of starting to help the homeless shelters and soup kitchens around town. Providing them with fresh fruits could drastically cut their spending on food, and handing out bags of produce was a great way to help people who were struggling but weren't homeless.

I just needed a way to get around this world's ridiculous laws about capes selling things. I didn't plan on making a dime off this, but if I started providing even the tiniest, itsy-bitsiest fraction of this city's paying population with food for free, I knew for a fact I would be swept away in a legal battle, probably funded by the PRT.

When it was time to go, I hopped up onto Troy and guided him through the alleys to a populated road. This was the first time I was attempting to ride him through such a setting, and I wanted to take it slow at first. I pulled him out onto the street, speeding him up to keep up with traffic, basically riding him like I would drive a car, stopping and starting at stop lights and the whole nine years.

The temptation to peel off and push Troy hard, to weave between traffic and really get going, was massive, and it only got harder to ignore when Alya confirmed my own growing suspicion. We weren't actually traveling that much faster than I would be if I were running. So, I made the decision to travel as if I was on a bike rather than a car. I shrunk Troy down as much as I could before letting Alya guide me off the street and through another alley. Rather than following the strict road rules like a car, we were pushing the limits quite a bit more. We took shortcuts, jumped over fences, occasionally weaved through cars, and cut out intersections and lights when we could. I would have never been able to do it on my own, not without a substantial bit of magic, which would have probably required several levels of a whole new subject, but with Alya's help, it was easy.

With this new method, I was making considerably better time than I would have by running through the sidewalks or streets. Even better, I knew that in the case of an emergency, I could really start to ignore traffic laws and push Troy to his absolute limit to cut down on that time even more.

The first stop for the last few hours of the morning was the Central Hospital, where I spent a few hours cleaning up concussions, fixing a brain bleed, and treating a half dozen other problems. A not insignificant portion of the people who I treated with issues like unexploded aneurysms and minor brain damage were people from out of town, visiting specifically to meet me.

At the end of my "shift," I had treated twenty-five people in total, eight of whom fell into the paying category. My finances were already looking way better than they ever had back home, even if I planned on donating a chunk of it to shelters and soup kitchens.

When I was done at the hospital, I walked out to the parking lot, where Troy was "parked." Quite a few people had stopped to take photos of the wooden golem, who was lying down in one of the nearby parking spots, pretending to be a real horse. As I approached, I whistled out to him, and the golem slowly started standing up at my command.

After signing a few autographs and even letting a young girl sit on Troy for a few minutes, I was off. My geomancy absorption needed a refresh, and I wanted to do some work on making more golems. In order to do that, I needed to move my partional from my temporary home out to the forest, and I needed to do it while not seeming suspicious or drawing attention. Normally, I would just change into my civilian clothes and pretend to go on a hike, but Troy stood out like a sore thumb on fire.

I ended up riding Troy back to the Docks community. I left him in the capable hands of John and Charles, warning them that I would be back later that night with more golems. They assured me they would be waiting, and I left to get changed back into civilian wear, heading directly to my old temporary home. I quickly cut the partional up using the stone cutting spells I got from the geomancy subject, making sure to cut them in a way that I could easily put them together again. I put them carefully into a large bag before carrying them out of the city as casually as I could. It was just a few hours after noon when I finally arrived at the forest compound.

After spending an hour growing out a new platform along the ritual space, I then put the partional back together, fusing it with a stone fusing spell, and quickly the testing partional out by absorbing another pile of steel. I then realized that I had been an idiot and that the geomancy subject had already given me the perfect tools to construct stone golem frames. It had been so long since I had built anything related to geomancy that I had entirely forgotten the stone-working spells that came with it.

I ended up spending the rest of the day making three more golems, this time constructing them out of stone. I started by creating the three cores before gathering some rocks using my enhanced strength. Luckily, there were plenty of them scattered around the clearing and the forest. I would carry them back to the ritual platform, then, using a frame made from growing branches out of the platform, I stacked the rocks up, carving and fusing them together until I had the same general hunched-over shape that the living wood golems had. Then, it was simple to prepare the golem frame, cut a place for the golem core, and seal it back up when I was done.

Even better, when the first golem was done, getting the materials for the second and third was considerably easier since I could just order the first golem to go out and find me more stone.

The three stone golems were a bit slower than me, about the speed of an average person, but they were incredibly resilient and strong, much more so than the living wood golems. They would offer an excellent variety to the Docks community defenses, especially since when I was done working on the golems, I had just enough time to make four of the stunning wands that I had designed previously. They were simple little ritual wands, and while they would be useless against any brutes, once I worked them into the living wood of the older golems, they would let them take down normal thugs easily.

Once I was done, I finally headed back to the community under the cover of darkness. It was slow going since the stone golems had to move at a snail's pace in order to stay quiet, and even then, they weren't what I would call stealthy. As I walked through the city, I looked up to the sky, noticing that the moon was just a sliver of glowing white. Mentally, looking back, I was pretty sure that it had been a bit more full the previous nights, which meant that it would be a new moon soon.

That sent all sorts of ideas scattering through my mind, as full and new moon phases were both potent additions to quite a few ritual types if you were willing to work the proper part into the design. While there were dozens, maybe even hundreds, of ways it could play into a ritual, a new moon was particularly good for rituals involving hiding things and darkness, both of which I now had use for

"Alya… I want to run a bunch of rituals under the new moon," I said quietly as we crossed a street, the three stone golems following behind us, plodding along slowly. "I have some ideas for a gift for Olivia, and it's about time I finish making my house and layering over the hiding enchantments. If I tie them all together under the new moon, with a nice big ritual, and then cap that off with what I designed already, I think the whole compound is going to be pretty much unfindable.

"So then another day of shopping?" She guessed. "Will you be inviting Olivia to the compound?"

"No, I don't want to pull her into this any faster than she wants to," I explained. "Admitting what my powers really are is not something I plan on sharing with people until it's more than completely obvious I am not a parahuman."

"But you plan on giving her a ritualized gift to make her more powerful?" She asked. "How is that not pulling her in deeper?"

"I… see your point," I said with a wince. "Okay, I'll ask her first. Hopefully, she will be at the camp when we get back."

By the time we arrived at the community camp, it was starting to get really late, but John was still waiting for us in the central area between the two buildings the community had taken over as their own. The rest of the space was silent, with the four living wood golems standing along the wall.

"Well... those look a lot more like what you would expect from being called a golem," he admitted when he first saw the large stone constructs. "You sure they aren't gonna… fall over and break?"

"The stone ones are way more durable than I am, and I'm bulletproof to pistol calibers. At least for the most part," I explained. Technically, I hadn't been a hundred percent sure of that before Alabaster shot me, but he was packing some rather large pistols, so I was confident in my durability. "And they aren't like cartoon golems. These are some serious brutes. Trust me, if people start some trouble, these guys will end it."

We talked for a few minutes, during which John brought up that they planned to keep the stone golems, or more specifically, whatever I had shown up with for the second batch since they didn't know what they would be beforehand, a secret. They were worried that if they presented too strong of a front, the Empire would simply show up in full force and crush them flat. I pointed out that if that happened, they were supposed to sacrifice the golems and run, and he assured me that they understood that part.

"I think you're underestimating just how quickly Purity could flatten this whole area if she wanted to," John said, shaking his head.

"I got a little something for that as well," I responded, reaching into my jacket and pulling out the wands.

I only had four in total, one for each of the living wood golems, but each one of them could shoot a few dozen blasts of knock-out electricity, similar to the spell I used to keep people unconscious after I beat them. Thankfully, this one had a bit more range, which should let the golems shoot down any fliers that decided to target the community.

Even better, the golems' natural magical generation would allow them to recharge the wands, taking their daily limit from a few dozen to probably just over a hundred.

I spent an hour or so fusing the wands into the living wood of the golems, putting them into their arms so that the blasts of electricity would fire out of their palms. The range was something like thirty feet or so, which made the wooden golems' fifteen-foot vertical jump height all the more critical.

When I was done, I linked the golems to John before he offered me a spare bed to stay in for the night. Considering that I had been planning on going back to my temporary home to sleep on the couch, I accepted his offer. Unfortunately, it wasn't meant to be, as I was just about to step into the warehouse when my phone rang. Recognizing the number as being from Brockton Bay Central, I quickly answered.

"Hello, Arcanum here,"

"Arcanum, I'm glad you picked up," The familiar voice of my personal liaison came through. "Listen, we need you to come in… Amy Dallon just showed up with a broken arm and some serious head trauma."

"Details, now," I said, already turning away from the warehouse. Before he could say anything, I whistled, and from somewhere around the warehouse, I could hear Troy galloping towards me.

"We don't know much. It's a bit of a madhouse here with the PRT and Protectorate showing up and New Wave…" My handler, Dr. Palrisa, explained. "Nobody seems to be talking about what actually happened, but there is a lot of tension and…"

"The patient, Dr Palrisa, details on the patient," I said, stamping down my exasperation.

"Her vitals are what we would expect. We suspect there is some pressure building up in her skull, but it's at manageable levels as long as you arrive quickly," He explained. "She has a decent fracture in her skull and her arm… it's a significant break but not life-threatening or likely to cause permanent damage."

"I'm on my way. I should arrive soon," I responded, nudging Troy into a gallop, the golem mount charging through a nearby alley. "Please pass on that I'm incoming to everyone who should know, including the PRT and New Wave. I want you at the entrance ready to guide me to her."

The doctor gave a final word of confirmation before I hung up, leaning down to grip Troy tightly, pouring my magic into the golem. Sparks flew from his metal hooves as we flew down the streets, a sinking feeling already settling in my stomach.
 
Chapter Thirty Three - PRT Interlude
According to standard operating procedure, the Parahuman Response Team kept a standing, twenty-four-hour workforce. This was intended to be done in shifts, with specific irreplaceable staff members, such as the director or deputy director, letting their positions be filled with on-staff division heads, such as the Chief Medical Officer, or the Commander of the Response Teams. In the case of a B-class threat or higher, the director would be notified and brought back to base with all due speed.

Reality, unsurprisingly, doesn't always work out that way, especially for a branch that is as underfunded and understaffed as the PRT ENE. More often than not, Director Piggot and many other members of this branch stay far longer at their stations than is recommended. The city of Brockton Bay and its surroundings were just too busy. Half the villain capes in the city were classified as B-class threats on their own, with several groups and individuals being A-class or higher. Piggot herself was sure that the only reason she managed to get any sleep at all was because the Parahuman gang members themselves liked to enjoy a full night's sleep.

The fact that Director Piggot and a significant portion of her understaffed and underfunded subordinates so often burned the midnight oil made late-night meetings common. They ranged from simple, if not frustrating, conversations about budget concerns to much larger briefings between the Protectorate and the PRT. These briefings were often the longest, as the sheer amount that needed to be discussed would usually drag the meeting even later.

It did not help that Armsmaster used every single one as an opportunity to ask for a larger tinkering budget or some other tinkering toy or concession.

"Once again, Armsmaster, I am denying your request to expand your lab into the room next door," Director Piggot said, the rigid, power armor clad hero having finished his request. "Not only is the adjacent room being used, but your lab has already subsumed the office on the other side. Space on the Rig is finite, and you already have plenty of room."

It was difficult to gauge Armsmaster's reaction to the denial since not only was he normally inexpressive, but his face was mostly covered by his armor. Only his mouth and chin were exposed, and the majority of that was covered by his beard.

"Very well." He responded simply, the hundreds of micro servos in his armor whispering out the faintest sounds as he shifted back in his chair.

He shuffled his papers, clearly not intending to say anything else. Miss Militia, studiously taking notes sitting next to her Protectorate leader, wrote down something on her pad. Beside her, Assault leaned back in his chair, looking at the ceiling. Everyone present was studiously ignoring the fact that he was definitely asleep, as no one wanted to deal with his shenanigans during an already very late meeting. He wouldn't be there at all if he hadn't been assigned as a liaison to one of the Bay's newest capes.

If he started to snore, Director Piggot might order Miss Militia to shoot him.

With Armsmaster seemingly satisfied with her response, Director Piggot closed and pushed a file, the disturbingly thick proposal that Armsmaster had submitted, to the side before opening another. She then looked up to one of the other people at the meeting, a man in a lab coat with a thick mustache and perfectly trimmed goatee.

"Dr Allens, if you could?"

"Ah, yes. Well, as requested, we rushed the analysis of the samples from Arcanum's trees. There were quite a few due to the variety of trees planted, but we completed the process earlier this afternoon," He explained. "As procedure dictates, I immediately contacted you, Director, to confirm there were no dangers detected in our analysis."

The large, stern woman nodded, turning the page of the report before looking back to the scientist. Those who knew her, and cared enough to pay attention, could see that while she remained outwardly calm, there was an underlying tension that seemed to twist and turn inside her. It was as if she had a white-knuckle grip on her internal monologue and emotions and was only barely winning.

"If you could give us a brief overview of your findings…"

"Of course. We analyzed samples of bark, root, leaf, wood, and fruit from each of the trees grown alongside the homeless community, as well as several air samples," He explained. "This was difficult, as these samples withered away within an hour of being taken. None of the samples showed any signs of anomalous activity. The fruits were thoroughly sterile as well. As far as we could tell, none of the trees we found could reproduce, nor could they be grafted."

"What about the fruits themselves?" Piggot asked pointedly. "Any effects from consumption?"

"None that we could discern," he explained. "Beyond being thoroughly sterile, they act and decompose in a way identical to a normal fruit of the same kind."

"That matches with what he said to me," Miss Militia added, looking up from her notes. "That he has a striker ability to manipulate and control plants, not… not a biotinker ability to directly change them."

The tension inside Director Piggot seemed to uncoil a single notch, the woman still wrestling with herself, her paranoia.

"For what it matters, his report of the tree's withering and dying without him certainly seems true as well," Miss Militia continued. "The two squads enforcing the quarantine reported that every tree is completely dead."

"If that is the case, then he won't care if we cut them down," Armsmaster pointed out. "If nothing else than to eliminate the need to designate two squads to the site."

"... I'll have a clean-up team sent out tomorrow afternoon," Piggot said, giving Armsmaster a nod.

"What about the second orchard?" Armsmaster asked.

For a long moment, Director Piggot was silent. She weighed the options, keeping her thoughts as straight and controlled as she could. It was difficult, as her first instinct was to order Arcanum to be brought in and studied to absolutely confirm she didn't have a plant-based Nilbong on her hands. But she couldn't do that without proof that something was wrong, and according to Dr Allen, there wasn't. She was already on thin ice for

"Considering what tests Dr. Allens' team has done, and their results… We will hold off from intervening," Director Piggot responded. "We are unlikely to ever recruit Arcanum after our original actions, but alienating him further is unwise."

"Ma'am, with all due respect, are you sure that is the correct position to take?" Armsmaster asks, a hint of incredulousness leaking into his usual dull, monotone voice. "His engagement with the homeless community is a textbook example of gathering a power base."

"It's also a textbook example of someone wanting to help," Assault said, catching everyone but Director Piggot off guard. "Arcanum has shown every sign of being a reasonable, genuinely heroic Cape."

"He killed Alabaster-"

"That was bad luck," Assault said, shaking his head. "And a clear sign of him coming to the defense of others."

That particular investigation had revealed some interesting information. Apparently, there had been several instances similar to this, where a parahumans ability is hampered or damaged by destroying the Corona Pollentia. This is difficult to observe in anyone other than regenerators, as any damage to the Corona Pollentia would also significantly damage the brain enough to kill a normal person, even a normal cape.

As far as PRT records showed, this phenomenon had only happened a few times. Once, when a civilian killed a cape defending their family, and the rest by various accident.

"The Empire members we found on the scene said he gave no warning, no chance for them to surrender," Armsmaster pointed out with a frown. "And as Panacea still refuses to heal Empire members, they remain almost completely deaf and partially blind."

"While I agree the willingness to default to violence is worrying, given the circumstances, it is… understandable," Director Piggot said before diverting the conversation. "I am mostly worried about the plant constructs he has created."`

"He said that we should consider them tinker constructs," Miss Militia pointed out. "I didn't say anything at the time, but if they are tinker constructs that he is allowing civilians to interact with and control…"

"Then they must undergo a full review by the PRT," Director Piggot finished with a nod. "Good. Assault, I want you to reach out and talk to him about the process. Warn him that this is already an allowance. By all means, we should have confiscated all of them the second we learned about them."

Assault nodded, though he didn't exactly look thrilled about the whole idea. Not only did he not want to be the bearer of bad news, but he knew from his time with Armsmaster and Kid Win, as well as a few other tinkers, that they frequently did not like having their toys taken away.

"That said…" Director Piggot continued. "I am sticking by my statement that the second orchard will stand. That, as well as my previous instructions for handling Arcanum. The second orchard will be left alone, and Arcanum is to be treated positively, as a hero."

Armmaster seemed unhappy with her statement, but it soon disappeared under his usual dour look. Assault, however, leaned forward, a frown on his face.

"Now that we've finally reached the good part of this meeting, has there been any news?"

Piggot scowled and closed the file on Dr. Allens' tests and procedures, pushing it to the side. This time, however, she did not reach for a new file. For weeks now, the PRT had been investigating the origin of the fake orders that Assault received from the Console during his first meeting with Arcanum. They had been given to the Console operator in the form of written instructions, signed and stamped with Director Piggots signature.

Unknown to the Assault and Console operator at the time, the orders were a forgery, and that Director Piggot wasn't even aware the conversation was happening, as she was undergoing her daily dialysis treatment.

Of course, the problem was discovered almost immediately after it happened. Director Piggot, while ordering a full investigation, had also decided to take advantage of the situation to find out more about Arcanum, and to try and discover where and why the fake orders were given.

Neither of which had gone very well.

"The investigation has run into a dead end," she admitted. "Agent Sannis, who delivered the orders, is still missing. We are investigating them but have so far found nothing. Until we do find something, we have nothing else to go on. I am downsizing the investigation, though it will remain active for now."

Assault cursed under his breath, and Director Piggot found herself wishing she could curse as well. The idea that someone, most likely one of the gangs in the Bay, had infiltrated them enough to pass off fake orders was as infuriating as it was worrying. Several changes had already been made to the security. If there was a silver lining to this whole debacle, it was that eleven gang plants had already been found and removed.

"I still think we should admit that something happened," Assault said, leaning back in his chair, tipping it back on two legs. "I think it would go a long way to getting him to trust us. He reacted well to me opening up about what was going on."

"Procedure is to keep things internal until the investigation is complete, and it is that way for a reason," Director Piggot reminded him, giving him a harsh look that he handily ignored. "The only reason you weren't in more trouble for 'opening up' is because you had the common sense to keep the actual investigation out."

Assault very specifically did not mention his second conversation with Arcanum, the one that would likely get him in a lot of trouble. He had mentioned that something was going on behind the scenes, which was enough for someone smart to figure out that maybe something was going on that was out of the PRT's control. The fact that he even hinted at an ongoing internal investigation would likely get him into more trouble than he had ever been since he joined the Protectorate.

"While we are on the topic of Arcanum, given what we have learned, it's time to revisit his power rating," Piggot said, opening up her notebook and tapping it with a pen. "I believe it is time to officially label him a Trump as he continues to discover new uses for the power source he has described. We can revisit this status later, either by removing or lowering the number, should he stop discovering new methods. I suggest a Trump rating of four."

"I agree," Armsmaster said with a nod. "I suggest we add Tinker for his plant construct creations, but before testing their capabilities, assigning a number is impossible."

"The bipedal constructs followed his orders, that means a Master rating," Miss Militia pointed out. "As did the horse construct."

"Considering some of the footage we are seeing online of him running, both on foot and on his horse, he definitely deserves a Mover rating of three at least," Assault pointed out.

"Mover three, Trump four, while Tinker and Master levels will be determined later," Piggot said, marking down something on her own notepad. "His healing ability is hard to number since healing abilities don't quite fall on the scale, but the plant ability would rate a two according to witness reports."

"I believe we should increase his Brute rating," Armsmaster said stoically. "Not only have we confirmed that he is bulletproof, but we failed to take into account his ability to heal. I believe Brute four is more appropriate."

"And his blaster rating should be bumped up, too," Assault added begrudgingly. "During the testing, it took multiple seconds of chanting for him to use his largest lighting attack. According to the police response, he did not need to chant to use the same attack that killed Alabaster, which by all rights was more powerful."

"Blaster five." Director Piggot said, writing it down with a frown. "That means Arcanum is a Blaster five, Trump four, Mover three, Striker two, with a yet-to-be-rated Master/Tinker combo."

"Jeeze…. Talk about jack of all trades," Assault said. "I'm glad he is a hero, he would be a pain to fight, no way to predict what he might throw at you."

"There should be a note of that in his file," Miss Militia pointed out. "Having a Trump level warns about it a little, but-"

Before she could finish, the door to the meeting room burst open, and an agent stepped in. He quickly stood at attention, snapping off a salute.

"What is it?" Piggot barked. "This is supposed to be a secure meeting!"

"I know, ma'am, but this is an emergency," The agent explained with a wince. "According to incoming reports from Brockton Bay Central Hospital… Panacea has been injured. She is currently in the hospital for treatment. According to what we know, she arrived with a broken arm and a cracked skull. "

For a moment, the room was quiet from the shock of the sudden bad news.

"Fuck, alright. Assault, Miss Militia, I want you on the scene ASAP. Your primary mission is to keep everything from spiraling out of control," Director Piggot ordered. "Armsmaster, I want you on patrol, making noise. Make sure people know that we are around."

"Should I call-" Assault started, only for Piggot to cut him off.

"No, not yet. Let the family know you have his number and offer to call for them," She responded. "This is already going to be a clusterfuck. We don't need to make it any worse by inviting extra people."

"He works with the hospital," Assault pointed out. "He's probably gonna show up anyway."

"Then it's out of our hands," She responded. "and more importantly, into someone else's. Now, let's move people!"




Hey everyone, just a reminder that I have a Patreon! Being a supporter has a lot of benefits, like early chapters and access to my original content. If you are interested in those benefits or just want to support my attempt to become a full-time writer, stop by and show your support. Every dollar helps!
 
Chapter Thirty Four - Dallon Family Interlude
Hey everyone, just a reminder that I have a Patreon! Being a supporter has a lot of benefits, like early chapters and access to my original content. You could get up to eight chapters early from this story and either four or eight from my other two. Board Members even get to vote on story beats, interludes, names, and the bonus unlock during Arcanum's recharge cycle! (The first vote was for Geomancy, and the second was Druidcraft!)

If you are interested in those benefits or just want to support my attempt to become a full-time writer, stop by and show your support. Every dollar helps!




Victoria Dallon tried her best to be a good person. She was young, filled with teenage dreams, drama, and hormones, but she still tried to do what was right. Up until recently, she had seen the world as pretty clear-cut. Good versus evil, villains versus heroes, order versus chaos. Her mother taught her from a very early age that there was no gray area, that there was no middle ground.

At the time, she had thought that drawing such a firm line in the sand was heroic and courageous. To her even younger mind, her mother was refusing to back down from her beliefs, standing firm against the world's slowly weakening moral compass. Her mother taught her a lot of what she thought being a hero was about. About how clear-cut the world was.

But now? Now she knew there was no such thing as simple.

Before, she never understood how people would act surprised or shocked when their actions, or even their loved ones' actions, caught up to them. It was simple cause and effect. How could you not see it coming? How could you pretend everything was okay? These people were bad, they were criminals, so why were they shocked when someone stopped them?

But now, she saw the same thing happening while she was looking inward. Now, she was watching her family do just that. And she could feel it herself. Could feel the urge to sit down and be quiet. To put it off, to simply nod and believe that it wasn't a problem, that everything was fine. That this was normal.

Carol Dallon was an unmovable object, a force of will that never deviated from its path, because she knew she was right, and everyone else was wrong. But now Victoria could see it. Every time her mother said, "My daughter and Amy." The cold look Amy got when she did anything Carol could consider wrong. Carol didn't do that to her. Her mother would chastise, roll her eyes, or even punish her when she messed up. But never the cold stare.

And it only got worse. On an average day, Carol Dallon would make around seven physical gestures of affection to her daughter. Victoria knew that because she had been keeping track for a few days. Hugs, shoulder squeezes, face touching, even an encouraging nudge out of the house when she was procrastinating heading to school. Carol was never an overly affectionate person, but she tried for her daughter.

Victoria had been counting for four days, and she had yet to see Carol even pat Amy's shoulder. In fact, she hadn't even heard any words of affection or support. No advice, no commiseration, no offers for anything. They hardly talked at all.

Unless Amy did something wrong. In that case, Carol paid her plenty of attention. When Amy did something that Carol didn't like, she would have no issue explaining how annoyed, disappointed, or angry she was. She would spend hours putting her sister in her place, hammering the already stressed girl with angry words and disappointed looks.

She had tried, more than once, to convince her mom there was something wrong, to convince Amy she wasn't okay. To get her dad to pay attention long enough to realize that something was wrong. But nobody took her seriously, believed her, or could care long enough to hear her out. She tried again and again, to the point that she had given up. Amy was angry at her for trying to suggest she couldn't handle it, Carol was annoyed that Vicky would even suggest maybe finding someone they could talk to, and they were both angry with her for suggesting and trying to keep Amy from working in the hospital.

They weren't listening. No one was listening, and the worst part was that she knew what she needed to do about it. Arcanum's words played over in her head now, damn near constantly. Kick it up the chain. Someone needed to do something, and since her family wasn't, maybe her Aunt Sarah would.

But it wasn't that easy.

She had gotten close what felt like a dozen times already. Between pulling her aside at team meetings or trying to talk to her out on patrol. She had floated in the sky above her aunt's house and above her work for hours. She just couldn't do it. She was terrified of what would happen, about what might happen. What if she was just being dramatic? What if she was wrong? Would Amy hate her for not leaving well enough alone? Would her mother resent her for spreading lies?

Her constant worry and fear were wearing down on her. Dean had noticed immediately since he could see her worry and incessant anxiety, but she had brushed him off. Now, other people were starting to notice. They asked if she had been sleeping okay, if she was feeling okay, and if everything was alright. She just brushed them all off. Who cared if she could barely eat and hadn't slept well since talking to Arcanum? How could she care about herself when she couldn't get herself to help her sister?

Amy was suffering, and she was doing nothing.

And then it got worse.

News began to spread that Arcanum's healing had finally been approved by the PRT. Apparently, he was healing people at the hospital on the very same day. Immediately, Amy's mood plummeted. She went from grumpy and sarcastic to aggressive and mean, pushing everyone away from her. What little friends Amy had, soon began to ignore her, which suited the healer just fine, as she was no longer even considering socializing. It had taken a week for Vicky to learn just why Amy was so upset. Apparently, Arcanum could fix the one thing Amy was incapable of fixing, brain injuries.

Within a single day of working for the hospital, Arcanum had healed everyone Amy could not help, all while making a good amount of money. While she never said anything outright, it was clear that Amy had no tolerance for her fellow healer.

While Amy managed to keep her opinions to herself, Carol did not. She called an emergency team meeting. When everyone had congregated in the planning room built into the Dallon basement late one night, she revealed that they needed to come up with a strategy to handle the incoming danger.

"Danger? What danger?" Aunt Sarha had asked, looking confused.

"Arcanum!" Carol said, leaning on the table as she stood at the front end. "He murdered Alabaster, and is working on setting up a gang from Brockton Bays homeless!"

"...Alabaster's death was ruled an accident from poor power interactions, and was the result of self-defense," Uncle Neil said after sharing a look with his wife. "The PRT didn't even bring Arcanum in for questioning."

"They are trying to play nice with him since he can do what Panacea can't," Carol explained, patronizingly waving away Uncle Neil's concerns. "He is a murderer and the leader of a growing gang!"

Victoria looked around, gauging everyone's faces. Her father, Mark, looked tired and bored, his depression in full force. Everyone else, even Amy, looked at Carol in confusion. While Amy might not be Arcanum's biggest fan, she didn't deny he was trying to be a hero.

"Mom… I don't think Arcanum is a villain," Victoria said, chewing her lip. "I mean, we have all done some pretty brutal stuff to Alabaster to try and keep him down and out of the way, but he always pops back. How was any of us supposed to predict that there was an exception, if that's even what caused it?"

"It doesn't matter. The man is a murderer. He needs to be brought to justice before he tries to solidify his control of the Docks," She explained. "If he does that, he will clash directly with Lung and the ABB, and Brockton Bay will suffer for it."

That brought everyone up short. Not because they agreed Arcanum was trying to solidify a gang, but because if he continued to work around the Docks, it was very possible that he would end up getting on Lung's bad side, a dangerous place to be, for Arcanum and for the people he supported.

"Carol, there is no evidence he is doing anything but helping people," Sarah said, frowning at her sister's insistence. "But he may need to be warned about what happens to people who push into Lungs territory."

"Are none of you listening? He is already starting a gang!" Carol said, her volume rising as her sister's point was steadily ignored. "He has already killed to protect his territory! We need to come up with a plan to take him down before he-"

"Carol, I understand that you are worried about the Bay's stability, but we cannot 'take down' Arcanum, not without proper evidence," Aunt Sarah said, matching her sister's tone and volume. "The PRT's official stand is that he is a hero, so even if we did take him down, what would we do with him, stash him here in the basement? The PRT would just let him go, and probably demand we come in for questioning since we would have attacked a known healer and hero!"

For a long moment, the siblings stared each other down. Eventually, after looking around for any sort of support, Carol finally backed down. She sat down in her chair with a huff, defeated for now.

Since she had been the one to call the meeting, the session quickly came to a close after that. Carol pulled Aunt Sarah aside to have a loud, obvious, easily overheard conversation, while the rest of the two families went upstairs. As they usually did after team meetings, takeout had been ordered, this time Chinese, which arrived shortly after the meeting ended. While the food was being spread out on the table, Aunt Sarah and Carol returned. The latter completely ignored everyone and making her way upstairs, her face pulled into a thunderous expression that spoke volumes about how the private conversation had gone.

The after-meeting meal was tense and awkward, the absence of Carol weighing heavily on them. This wasn't the first time Victoria's mother had tried to push for drastic action, but it was the most out-there and confusing in recent memory. Victoria couldn't help but wonder what was going through her mother's head. Why was she so determined to vilify the hero? Was she being paranoid? Did she actually have a point? Why did she have such a large issue with Arcanum?

Victoria had a much easier time understanding Amy's problem with the hero. Frustration about a potent healer not sharing her beliefs, jealousy at his freedom and confidence, and envy of his ability to heal brains.

Once the meal was over, the two families split, saying their goodbyes. Sarah pulled Mark aside for their own private conversation, this one much more reasonable and quiet, while Eric and Neil headed out to the car. As Victoria gave her cousin Crystal a hug, waving as her older cousin walked out, she saw Amy make her way upstairs. Her sister was probably going to work on homework since she had only just returned home from the hospital when the meeting started. More importantly, though, she would be out of earshot.

Not long after that, Sarah finished her conversation with Mark, who immediately sat down in the living room in his usual spot, the TV already on. Aunt Sarah gave Victoria a quick hug before making her way to the door. Vicky gave a look over her shoulder to her dad, already dead to the world, as he watched whatever stupid reality television was on. Amy was upstairs, as was Carol.

This was her chance.

"Aunt Sarah, wait," Victoria said, floating after her aunt, following her out the door to the front porch. "Can I talk to you for a moment? It's kind of important."

Aunt Sarah stopped and turned, looking at Victoria for a moment, studying her face. She must have spotted something worrying because she immediately looked serious.

"Is everything okay, hun?" She asked, stepping closer and rubbing her shoulder. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

"I… no… Well…The thing is… I…Well-"

The young hero stumbled and tripped over her words, her mind beginning to fill with anxiety. She continued to talk, but it was a jumbled rush of words and mumbles. She did manage to get out that she was worried about her sister.

"Vicky, hey, it's okay, just take deep breaths," Her Aunt said, now looking properly worried. "What was that about worried about Amy?"

Victoria took a deep breath, forcing herself to calm down. She felt wobbly and unstable, like she was about to make a massive mistake but at the same time reveal a great dangerous secret. She could hear her heartbeat and her pulse race, nervous energy flowing through her that made her want to sit down or run away. She was sure that if anyone had been around that wasn't immune to her Aura, they would be freaking out.

"I'm worried, worried that-"

From further into the house, Victoria could hear an insistent knocking. She didn't even have to think to recognize it as her mother's. The fact that she could hear it from where she was meant it was probably closer to a pounding than a knock, but she didn't have long to think about that. The knocking stopped but was soon replaced by loud talking, then shouting.

When it became screaming, shouting loud enough that even with the front door shut, both Victoria and Aunt Sarah would have heard it. She could tell it was terrible because Amy never really shouted like that. She would stop before that, roll her eyes, and ignore Carol, taking whatever punishment her mother doled out, barely even shrugging her shoulders. But now she was meeting Carol's aggression, matching her shout for shout.

Both Vicky and Aunt Sarah rushed back inside, making their way to the staircase. Before they could reach it, the loud shouting began to move as the two people screaming at each other stormed down the second-floor hall. Carol shouted for Amy, demanding that she stop and not walk away from her, for her to come back that instant. After a moment, the sound of a slap resonated through the house, followed by Amy demanding she be released.

Both Aunt Sarah and Victoria arrived just in time to watch Amy tumble down the stairs. The sound of meaty impacts and snapping bones cut through everything. Amy came to a stop at the turn into the stairs, cracking a pair of balusters as she slammed to a halt. At the top of the stairs was Carol, her eyes wide as she looked down at the unmoving healer.
 
Chapter Thirty Five New
I galloped through the streets of Brockton Bay faster than I had ever pushed my golem mount before. Between my legs, I could feel the heat radiating off the golem core, the bright blue glow almost blinding as I dumped all the mana I could into it. Despite being well built and capable of absorbing a lot of my mana to burn as extra energy, the golem core still had limits. If I pushed too much energy into it for too long, I would burn out the ritual effects on it, reducing it to a fancy-looking but ultimately useless paperweight.

As Troy turned down an alleyway, leaping over a dumpster, I could feel I was getting pretty close to that point. At this point, the only reason I cared was that I would be stranded out in the middle of the city if I accidentally wrecked Troy's core. Troy was well-made, but he was still basically an inanimate object. Eventually, he could develop into more, but that was a one-in-a-million chance, and it wouldn't happen any time soon. For now, I would happily throw his core into the ocean if it meant saving a single life.

Especially as important as Panacea.

I mentally cursed myself, unable to throw the feeling that this was somehow my fault. I had put off looking into her and Glory Girls' situation for too long despite my gut telling me that something was wrong. Glory Girl's reaction to our conversation, plus what I had learned later from the medical director, had been more than damning enough for me to act or at least ask more questions, and I had put it off until later.

When I finally arrived at the hospital, I ignored every bit of signage and parking instructions, instead cutting through the front lawn, leaping over a hedge, and jumping off of Troy, barely pausing to grab my staff from its "saddle holster." As I pushed through the front door, I used a quick spell to coil it back up and hook it onto my hip. I could hear people gasping and pointing at Troy, but I knew he would be fine, and it was not like anyone could tell him what to do.

As I stepped inside the building, I immediately spotted Dr. Palrisa and Assault waiting for me. Without a word, Dr. Palrisa turned and headed down the hall, and both Assault and I followed after him.

"Arcanum, listen…" Assault said, easily keeping stride with us as we climbed into an elevator. "There's a lot of tension going on right now, and… Look, Brandish didn't react very well when she heard you were coming. There is a chance she won't let you heal Panacea."

I turned and looked at him, reeling back in shock.

"Excuse me?" I asked. "Brandish, as in Carol Dallon, Amy's mother? She won't let me heal her?"

"She didn't say it exactly, but it was close," He corrected. "The whole family barely managed to convince her to put off surgery for now."

I gritted my teeth and flexed, cracking my back as I once again cursed my inaction. I understood that some people were skeptical of parahuman healing, but the mother of the greatest parahuman healer ever refusing parahuman treatment…

When the elevator door finally opened, Dr. Parisa led me out and down the hall. We passed a nurse's station and turned a corner to find most of the New Wave sitting or standing in the hall. I recognized them from pictures, though identifying them without their costumes was a bit more difficult. On top of that, Miss Militia was also there, standing beside Glory Girl, rubbing her back.

The masked woman stood out among the plainclothes heroes, all blonde and looking worried, though even with her mask, I could tell she was just as worried as the rest. I stepped past my handler, only to stop and catch Glory Girl as she flew to me the second she spotted me. Her eyes were red and puffy, and as she wrapped me in a hug, her grip was bruising even through my steel absorption.

"Arcanum! I messed up, I should have said something! This is all my fault. Please help her, please, please!"

She begged, holding onto me tightly. I looked down at her in shock, before looking up at everyone else. They all looked equally surprised at Glory Girl's, or Victoria's in this instance, immediate attention.

"I'll do my best, I promise," I said, patting her back a bit awkwardly, looking around, focusing on her mother, who was standing nearby, her arms crossed. "What happened?"

"She fell down the stairs," The older woman responded. "We were having an argument and… I unfortunately distracted her at the wrong moment. I was following after her and… She was focused back on me when she missed the first step."

I couldn't help but frown at her open hostility. Even if Assault hadn't warned me, it would have been impossible for me not to know that she didn't want me here. After a moment, I looked at the man standing next to her. Flashbang, or Mark Dallon, has his arm on her shoulder, supporting his wife. Beside him were Sarah and Neil Pelham. While Mark didn't react at all to his wife's explanation, the reaction Sarah and Neil had made me very concerned. It wasn't flat out that they thought she was lying. Instead, it felt more like they were worried they had missed something, that they couldn't deny or confirm her statement.

"Right, well, why don't I heal her up," I said, patting Victoria again before gently encouraging her to step back. "It sounded like time was of the essence. I-"

"And what makes you think we want you to heal her?" Carol demanded, pushing off of the wall and stepping closer, rolling her shoulder to dislodge her husband's hand. "Nobody asks you to come, we-"

"I did," Victoria said, cutting her mom off. "I told the doctors to call him."

Carol turned to her uninjured daughter and frowned. She opened her mouth to say something, but at this point, I was done beating around the bush. Amy Dallon was severely hurt, and she deserved treatment. It was the least I could do considering her selflessness, even if it was unhealthy and misdirected.

"Ma'am, are you saying that you do not want your daughter, Panacea, to undergo parahuman healing?" I asked. "Even though my healing abilities have been tested and verified by the PRT as safe and without drawbacks?"

Unsurprisingly, she immediately picked up the subtext I was dropping, no doubt her experience as a lawyer coming in handy. The idea that she would deny Panacea parahuman healing would send ripples outward that she would have no way of controlling. Panacea was the world's greatest parahuman healer. But if her own mother didn't trust a verified cape healer, what did that say about what her daughter could do?

It wasn't quite a threat, but the way she looked at me, I may as well have been holding her at gunpoint. She opened her mouth, her face pulling into a scowl when her husband spoke up first.

"You have my permission," he said, pointedly ignoring Carol as she whirled around to face him. "That's all you need, right? One parent's consent?"

"That is, in fact, all I need. Let's go get your daughter all fixed up," I said with a smile, stepping past the hero mother to pat her husband on his shoulder.

Dr. Palrisa led us into Amy's room, standing aside so that we could all enter. I made a beeline for the bed, stopping by the young woman's side. She was looking rough, with a temporary cast on her left arm and a bandage around her head. There was no blood or anything, but I could see bruises covering her body.

"I'm going to begin now. Don't be startled by the lights or chanting, it helps me focus my ability," I explained before putting a hand gently on Amy's forehead and stomach.

To start off the healing, and to know just how bad she was injured, I started with an in-depth scan. When it was complete, I almost cursed out loud at the list of issues she was experiencing. The first and most prevalent issue was the skull fracture and brain swelling. She was pretty stable, considering her injuries, but the sooner I treated that, the better.

Next, she had several minor hairline fractures around her ribs, arm, and leg, as well as the more obviously broken arm. The break was not compound, and the muscle tearing was minimal, but the fracture was messy enough that she would have likely spent a long time in a cast.

After that was the bruising, which was expected and lined up with a serious fall. I would be able to get rid of those with a general healing spell once all of the other major issues were taken care of. There was a bruise on her right arm that looked a little too much like she had been grabbed roughly, which was worrying enough on its own. After her bruises were the background issues.

She was showing the beginning signs of hypertension due to stress, a mind-boggling concept for someone her age. While her body was physically slightly larger than was "optimal," she showed signs of malnutrition, with my scan concluding her diet was exceedingly poor for a long time. Her lungs were filled with enough tar that she had to have been smoking regularly for at least a year, or less regularly for more.

Her body was a mess, and it read as someone significantly older than she should be, like she had been through the wringer and was being overworked to the point of being unacceptable. The only positive thing I could say was that, beyond her current injuries and other issues, I could see no sign of systemic physical abuse.

I immediately healed the primary concerns, namely her head, brain, several minor fractures, and her arm, before pulling back. Dozens of people could verify that her skull had been fractured and that her arm had been broken. For everything else, it would be my word against the families. I didn't even heal the bruising, which left a pit in my stomach. I mentally promised that I would finish healing her the second I could.

When I was done healing the important bits, I stepped back, making more room for her family to step closer.

"I fixed her skull and the brain swelling, as well as her arm. She had a bunch of minor fractures as well, which I also fixed," I explained. "Right now, she is pretty heavily asleep and probably will be for a while."

Victoria gave me a smile before floating around and down beside her sister while her father stood on the other side. Carol stood beside him, his arm crossed as she looked down at her sleeping daughter. After a moment of observing them, I turned to leave. Dr. Palrisa started to follow me out, and I turned to him and gave him a harsh look.

"Stay here," I ordered softly. "Do not leave Amy alone with anyone."

He looked confused for a second before something must have clicked in his head, and his eyes went wide, looking between me and the family gathered around the still-unconscious hero. For a moment, I thought he would say something, but after a moment, he nodded. I left the room in a rush, and the aunt and uncle immediately stepped forward as I did.

"I healed her head and arm, she is just sleeping," I explained. "If you'll excuse me."

If they noticed my brusqueness, they didn't mention it, immediately stepping inside. As soon as the door was shut, I turned and quickly walked back down the hall, making a turn and stopping at the nurse's station. As I did, I whispered to Alya.

"Go back to the room and watch over Amy. Do not leave until I call for you."

I could feel her agreement as I walked, arriving at the nurse's station just after she pulled away. At this point, it was getting pretty late. Visiting hours must have been up, so I could only assume they were turning a blind eye for the sake of Panacea. That said, despite it being late, a nurse immediately spotted me. As chance would have it, I recognized her as the calm nurse who had watched me heal the poor young girl on my "smoke break."

"Arcanum, you finished helping Panacea already?" She asked, looking surprised. "We-"

"I need you to get the highest-up doctor in the hospital here, now," I said, cutting her off, the Nurse's eyes going wide. "Someone who knows how everything works, who can make decisions, takes their job seriously, and would hear how I'm talking to you and would respond by telling me to get the hell out of the hospital without blinking an eye. Do you understand what I need?"

It took a second for her to recover, but she seemed to get the gist of it as she immediately picked up the phone. As she talked in hushed tones through the phone, I realized that I wasn't exactly alone.

"Arcanum, what's going on?" Assault asked from behind me. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing I can tell you," I explained, which really got Assault's attention. "Go wait outside Amy's room."

The Protectorate hero clearly understood that something was wrong, and from his complete shift in demeanor, he clearly knew it was serious. Instead of asking again, he nodded, immediately turning around and heading back to the room.

It took several minutes for whichever doctor the nurse called to arrive, approaching me the second he saw me. He was a middle-aged man, maybe late thirties, with a clean-shaven face and a pair of reading glasses hanging around his neck. He approached with a frown on his face, which told me he was expecting to have to put someone in their place for being rude to his staff.

"Arcanum, what exactly is going on?" He asked, giving the nurse at the station a look. "I understand Panacea is important, but you cannot go around bossing my staff around just because-"

"Sir, with all due respect, that is not what is going on here," I said, gesturing for him to follow me a few feet away from the nurse's station.

"Then what is?" He asked, his tone wordlessly conveying that I needed to get to the point as quickly as possible.

"You need to start whatever process this hospital has for abused or neglected children," I informed him, his eyes widening as I spoke. "I have no way of knowing if her mother's story is true, but I can say without a doubt that Amy Dallon is being neglected by her parents. Her body is falling apart from stress, and her brain is an absolute mess from lack of sleep. She is suffering from low levels of malnutrition for half a dozen vitamins and has been smoking for at least a year, potentially longer. Now, I can wash all of those issues away, but her parents let them happen in the first place, and that is unacceptable."

By the time I was done, the man's jaw was hanging open. He was speechless, staring at me as if I had just declared myself the king of the moon.

"Doctor?"

"I- Yes, but, they are…"

"I don't care if they are the goddamn Beatles!" I said, poking the man in the shoulder, hard enough to knock him back a step. "Amy Dallon is being criminally neglected by her parents, and it is your job to start whatever process that entails. So start them!"



Hey everyone, just a reminder that I have a Patreon! Being a supporter has a lot of benefits, like early chapters and access to my original content. If you are interested in those benefits or just want to support my attempt to become a full-time writer, stop by and show your support. Every dollar helps!
 
Chapter Thirty Six New
Hey everyone, just a reminder that I have a Patreon! Being a supporter has a lot of benefits, like early chapters and access to my original content. You could get up to eight chapters early from this story and either four or eight from my other two. Board Members even get to vote on story beats, interludes, names, and the bonus unlock during Arcanum's recharge cycle! (The first vote was for Geomancy, and the second was Druidcraft!)

If you are interested in those benefits or just want to support my attempt to become a full-time writer, stop by and show your support. Every dollar helps!




The Doctor, who I later learned was Dr. Gomez, quickly left after I laid out what was going on and what my scans had picked up. I could tell that he was unnerved and unhappy with what I was accusing, but he was too much of a professional not to do his due diligence. According to him, the first step of the process was reaching out to the Department of Children and Families and making a report. From there, several nurses were in and out of Amy's room, taking various blood samples and the like.

I hung around for a while, using the excuse that I was healing people, picking up Panacea's slack while she was injured. Considering we were waking people up to heal them, I wasn't sure who actually believed that excuse. Still, it kept me close enough that Alya could keep an eye on everything while I kept out of view of the family, my partner giving me steady reports on what was going on with Amy and around the hospital.

Now, like most people, I was relatively ignorant of the DCF or CPS process, past understanding that people like Doctors were mandated reporters and what I had seen on TV. Once I passed it off to the doctors, I was cut out of the problem. My services were no longer required. I stuck around, though, because I still had an uneasy feeling about the situation. Despite my ignorance of the system, I was pretty sure that the family of the potential victim was not supposed to learn about the accusation so quickly, if at all.

That made Alya's warning that Carol Dallon was hunting me down through the hospital, followed closely by her sister and daughter, all the more concerning.

Rather than run and hide, I finished healing my current patient, a poor old woman with pretty severe arthritis and some lower back issues that I did my best to ease, I made my way to the nearest empty room I could find. The Doctor guiding me around looked at me funny as I walked into the empty room, but when Carol came storming down the hall, demanding where I was, he directed her inside before running away.

Smart man.

"Alya, blow the door shut when they come in," I whispered just as the older woman spotted me through the doorway, charging directly in with a thunderous expression, her daughter following her in.

"You fucking bastard! How dare you accuse me of abusing Amy!" She shouted, the door thankfully already shut behind Sarah Pelham. "What right do you have-"

"Right? What right? It has nothing to do with rights." I fired back, cutting her off. "I have a responsibility as an adult to report any potential child abuse or neglect I see."

"I didn't push her down the stairs, she fell!" She responded, her fists clenched. "When she wakes up, she will collaborate that, and I will fucking bury you."

"I don't appreciate threats, ma'am," I responded. "Besides, I didn't report you for the injuries. I reported you for everything else."

"What else? I have never laid a hand on her!"

"I performed an in-depth scan of her before I healed her to make sure there wasn't something the doctors missed. It's something I do for all people I heal, at least when I have the time. Usually, it reveals some older injuries or some small thing like a stubbed toe or a pulled muscle," I explained, unable to keep the scowl off my face. "Amy's revealed she is a smoker, malnutritioned, and severely overworked. In total, she hasn't gotten more than twelve hours of sleep over the last four days, and I can see the effects of chronic sleep deprivation riddled through her brain. She has more stress in her body than any of the people I have scanned since I got my powers and way more than is even remotely close to what a girl her age should ever have to deal with."

The silence in the room was heavy, and I could see the tears starting to well up and fall from Victoria's eyes. Her mother and Aunt just stood there, dumbfounded.

"I also know that she spends almost every free waking moment at the hospital, enough time that I'm pretty sure the hospital is violating child labor laws," I explained. "I also know that she considers her only self-worth to be her ability to heal."

"I… That…"

"Knowing all of this, Ma'am, how could I do anything else but report it? Your daughter is suffering, and I will not let that slide."

"You… You're making this up!" Carol said, pointing an accusing finger at me, her shock morphing into rage. "I knew you were a villain. I knew it! Now you're trying to weaken New Wave, so we can't stop you! Well, we-"

"MOM! He isn't lying!" Victoria shouted.

A wave of admiration and awe flowed over me, and for a long, floating moment, all I could focus on was Victoria. Thankfully, before I could even start to think too deeply, Alya gave me a bit of a mental yank. It was enough for me to push down the emotions she was forcing on me, giving me a bit more self-control. Victoria was floating a foot or so off the ground, staring at her mom angrily. Behind her, her aunt was looking at her niece with the same awe I'm sure I had, but Carol was looking at her with wide, terrified eyes. Then, as quickly as it had arrived, it vanished, the emotional weight cutting off. All three of us took a moment to recover, but it seemed like Carol's anger let her push through first.

"Victoria Dallon, you did not just use your Aura on me! I-"

"Just shut up!" the teenager shouted. "I'm sick of you ignoring me! I've tried to get you to see, I've tried to get Amy to see, but nobody will listen, and now, because I'm a coward and couldn't speak up sooner, Amy got hurt! Aunt Sarah!"

Victoria whirled around to look at her aunt, with tears still dripping down her face.

"Mom… Mom treats Amy badly. It's never violent, but she… She never shows her affection, never hugs her, never reassures her. She calls me her daughter but never refers to Amy like that. It's constant, and I can't believe I never noticed! She yells at her more, chastises her more, punishes her more! Amy can never do anything right, and anything she does well is ignored. Amy thinks… she thinks that the only thing that matters about her is that she can heal people. She puts it above everything, even her own health! And Mom encourages it!"

The weighty silence was back as Mrs. Pelham stared at Victoria, her eyes wide and her jaw hanging open. Eventually, it seemed that she had managed to process everything that Victoria had said, because her gaze turned to her sister, locking on to her with a hard stare.

"Is that true?" She asked, her willpower tested. When her sister failed to respond, she asked again, her hands starting to glow. "Carol Dallon, so help me god, is that true?!"

"Of course it's not true! I fed her, clothed her, put a roof over her head!" She shouted back, her ire redirected at her family. "I might not have loved her like my daughter, but I still took care of her!"

"So you did the absolute bare minimum?" Mrs Pelham asked, her voice filled with disgust. "Goddammit, Carol, she is a child, and you raised her like that? How… how could you do that to her? How did I not see it?!"

"You pushed her on me! I said no, and you insisted! And it's more than she deserves!" She shouted back, her face turning red. "It's only a matter of time before she turns into a monster like her father!"

The ranting woman stopped suddenly, having realized what she said, and immediately started to backtrack.

"No, wait, I didn't mean that," She said, shaking her head. "I'm just angry, she- I-"

I lunged forward, intercepting Victoria before the monstrous haymaker punch she was throwing could land. I barely made it, just able to snag the crook of my elbow along hers. I could feel my bones and muscles scream as her super strength completely out-scaled my own. Still, I was able to pull her back, mostly because I wasn't her target, and she didn't really want to hurt me.

"How could you say that! She has dedicated her life to helping people, and you call her a monster?" The teenager shouted as I pulled her back a few more feet, only managing to because she had stopped fighting me. "She… she isn't perfect, but she is not a monster, you are!"

"I'm… I'm sorry, Victoria… I-" She started to say, her voice much quieter.

"Sorry? SORRY?! I don't want an apology! You haven't been emotionally abusing and neglecting me!" She shouted back, her voice breaking as she sobbed. "No, instead, I'm an accomplice. I lived happily, smiling and feeling loved while my sister suffered. I don't want your apology… Carol. I don't want anything to do with you."

By the end of her rant, Victoria was no longer shouting. Her words were quiet, and her tone was cold. Carol visibly flinched when she called her by her name. When she was done, the teen hero pushed off my hands and gave me what looked like an attempt at an appreciative look before she walked out of the room.

The door slammed behind her, and I looked back to Carol, who looked lost and empty, while Mrs. Pelham looked tired, disgusted, and angry. She stared at her sister for a full minute before finally speaking.

"You will not interfere or interact with DCF or CPS except to answer their questions honestly," she finally said, staring down her sister, who barely reacted to her words. "Amy is going to move in with us, if they don't take her away completely. You will never be alone with her again, and if you attempt to push or pry at this, I will publicly kick you from New Wave and start the process of getting an official restraining order. At this point, I still might."

When Mrs. Pelham was done laying down the law, she turned to leave, gesturing for me to go with her. I nodded and followed the woman out, leaving her still shell-shocked sister alone. When I exited, Mrs. Pelham shut the door behind me. When the door latched shut, for a moment, she nearly collapsed, leaning hard against the door. I reached out to catch her, but the slightly older woman waved me away. She took a moment to collect herself before finally standing up straight.

"Arcanum, I…"

She trailed off, looking at me, clearly trying to figure out what she was supposed to say but unable to really figure out how to say it all. I reached out and put my hand on her shoulder.

"It's okay, I can't imagine how insane this is to you," I said. "I would say that you shouldn't blame yourself. We are often blind to the things closest to us, and that isn't more true than it is with family. Just promise me you'll get Amy real, professional help."

"We will, there… I already made a mistake convincing Carol to take her in the first place. I won't fail Amy again," She assured me before starting to walk down the hall, away from her sister. "A lot of things are going to change for us. I just hope our family survives this."

"Will Vicky be okay? Living with her?" I asked. "I know it's invasive, but…"

"No, after what you just witnessed, you have every right to question it," She admitted, shaking her head. "I will talk to her. Mark… Mark struggles with depression, I don't know…God, I don't know if he can take care of her… But she is seventeen."

"How long has he been dealing with that?" I asked before wincing and holding up a hand. "Sorry, that was too much. I've gotten used to asking more questions when people tell me about injuries and maladies."

"It's fine, Amy is the same way," She admitted, though she didn't turn around. "And to answer your question, we aren't sure, but he has been treated on and off for several years. He played football when he was younger, it's how he got his scholarship."

I chewed my lip, my mask hiding my expression as I weighed the options for what I was considering.

"Listen, I only healed Amy's most pressing injuries, but I would like to finish the process now that… you know what's going on," I explained. "There is also a chance if it was caused by repetitive impacts, that I may be able to fix Mark's depression as well."

That got her attention, whirling around and focusing on me entirely.

"How?"

"I can't fix the natural state of the body, so old age and genetic disorders are out of my reach. But I can fix the symptoms, and I can fix damage. If he has a natural imbalance, then there isn't much I can do for him. But if it was caused by playing football, constantly getting tiny repetitive trauma… I might be able to fix it. Old injuries are harder to work with, so… It's a toss-up. I apologize, I know this isn't the best time, but…"

"No, if you can help Mark, then now is as good a time as any," She said, shaking her head. "It is a lot, but I know you have good intentions."

I nodded, and we quickly headed back to Amy's room. Miss Militia and Assault were both still there, now sitting down across from the door. Mrs. Pelham stopped to talk to both of them while I stepped into the room. Victoria was sitting by Amy's bed, her head lying on the rail of the gurney. On the other side was Mark, sitting stoically by her bed. They both immediately looked in my direction, both looking at me with different levels of confusion. I wondered if Victoria had explained what was happening to her dad, but judging by his expression, he had no idea.

I quickly explained that I needed to finish healing Amy, and Mark simply shrugged, sliding his chair back to give me room. I quickly cast a half dozen spells, cleaning up her lungs, healing the damage, and wiping away some of the worst symptoms from her stress, poor diet, and chronic sleep deprivation. When I was done, Amy Dallon was the healthiest she had been in an unfortunately long time.

When I was done, I turned to Mark Dallon.

"Sir, I've been told that you struggle with depression and that you used to play football in college?" I asked. "Do you mind if I scan you like I did with Amy? There is a chance I might be able to help."

"You can cure depression?" He asked, looking skeptical.

"I can cure some of the brain damage that is often associated with depression," I corrected. "If you don't have that type of damage, I'm afraid there is very little I can do."

"I… wouldn't mind being scanned."

I nodded and reached out, placing my hand on his shoulder and quickly casting the scanning spell. He was, frankly, in near-perfect condition. His body was perfect, with zero health issues anywhere outside of his brain box. Inside that, however, was precisely the kind of damage I was worried about.

"Well, Mr. Dallon, you do, in fact, have some traces of brain damage consistent with repetitive trauma," I confirmed. "Would you like me to try and fix it?"

"I… what sort of effect would it have on me?" He asked, sounding thoughtful.

"Unfortunately, I have no way of predicting that," I admitted. "It's a very old injury. I might not be able to repair it fully."

For a long minute, he chewed his lip before eventually shaking his head with a frown.

"I need to talk about it with Carol first," he explained. "I'm already going to be in trouble for giving you permission so quickly."

"I understand," giving Victoria a look before she spoke up. "The doctors have my number, as does the PRT if you change your mind."

He nodded before silently retaking his position beside his now much healthier daughter. I gave Victoria a nod before quickly making my way outside the room. All three of the heroes were still there, now joined by Mr Pelham. All four of them turned to look at me as I shut the door behind me. Letting out a long breath I stepped closer, Assault stepping back slightly to let me into their little circle.
 
Chapter Thirty Seven New
As I stood with the other heroes, Sarah Pelham paused whatever she was saying for a moment to nod and greet me.

"Hello, Arcanum, are you finished?" She asked, seemingly fighting the urge to check on Amy herself. "Is Amy okay?"

"Yes, Ma'am, Amy is in near-perfect health. She is lucky that her smoking didn't cause more damage," I admitted with a frown, unhappy with how close it had been. "I was able to heal and clean them up pretty well. I also made my other offer, but…"

"I already told them everything," Sarah assured me. "Or I plan to, at least."

"Ah, I see. Well, I scanned Mark and concluded his previous head trauma is affecting his current state of mind," I explained, now going into detail. "I offered to try and heal it, but Victoria hadn't explained what had happened yet, so he defaulted to waiting for his wife to discuss the possibility."

"Dammit… okay, I'll talk to him," She said, pausing for a moment before looking at her own husband. "Actually, Neil, it might be better for you to do that."

"Yeah… you're right. I'm on it," The older man said with a grim nod, leaving the group to head inside the room.

A few seconds later he returned, his brother-in-law following him out and down the hall towards the nurses station. When they were out of sight, Mrs. Pelham let out a long sigh.

"I really hope you can help him," She admitted. "But he is going to wake up to a whole lot of problems."

"Sarah, if you could…?" Miss Militia said, prompting Mrs Pelham to nod

"Right. As I said, once Amy is given a clean bill of health by the hospital, she will be taking a prolonged break from healing," She explained. "She needs time for herself, both to figure out what is going on and to come to peace with it."

"Sarah, while I understand that she needs time…" Miss Militia said, wincing as she spoke and sounding unhappy with what she was saying. "And I truly wish this wasn't the case because she is a kid, and she deserves to have time to recover and heal… but the PRT depends on her to an unfortunate degree. Without her here to help keep us going after we are injured… we won't be able to keep up."

For a moment, I frowned, opening my mouth to respond, only to realise she wasn't entirely incorrect. A quick bit of mental math showed that the Empire alone dwarfed them in size, and they even had access to a healer. Without Panacea helping to keep the Protectorate up and pushing back... Miss Militia was correct.

"I wish she wasn't right," Assault added, shaking his head. "We should have seen this coming and prevented it, but we depend on her powers."

I could see that Sarah Pelham wanted to be angry with what she was hearing, but in the end, she could only mutter out a curse. Before she could say anything, I spoke up.

"I'll fill in for her," I volunteered, the group turned to focus on me. "At the PRT and here at the hospital. With some triage measures in place here, we could cut the amount of healing down to a level I am comfortable with."

"I'm not sure we can afford your rates," Miss Militia admitted. "At least not for consistent injuries."

"Then we can negotiate a temporary alternative price. I refuse to work for free, but while I'm covering for Amy, I can afford to take a hit."

Miss Militia gave Assault a look, and the red-themed hero nodded, stepping away from the conversation and putting his hand to his ear. Meanwhile, Sarah Pelham reached out to my shoulder and pulled me into a hug. It caught me off guard, but I managed to not make an idiot of myself.

"Thank you," She said, pulling back with a small smile and watery eyes. "Thank you for everything you've done for Amy and our family. This is… all of this… Thank you."

"Of course," I responded simply, giving her a nod as she pulled away completely.

It took a few minutes for Assault to finish his conversation, during which Mr. Pelham and Mr. Dallon returned. The depressed father gave me permission to heal his brain injury, and after I warned him it would likely be a slow, gradual transition, I fixed him up. It took a bit of juice and one of my more powerful spells, but the results were positive, and I was hopeful that he would be able to finally shake off his issues.

For now, though, it was still affecting him, and after a shallow thank you, he returned to Amy's room to sit beside her bed.

"You should keep an eye on him as well," I pointed out once the door was closed. "He is going to be looking at a lot of his past through a different lens now. Chances are he isn't going to like what he sees."

"Do you think he is…" Sarah asked, trailing off before actually asking if he was a danger to himself.

"I would love to say no, but he… well, he basically watched his daughter get neglected. Kind of neglected her himself…"

Mr. Pelham let out a curse under his breath, sitting down heavily in one of the nearby chairs. His wife looked about, ready to join him.

"Just keep an eye on him. If he seems to be spiraling, then you can react from there," I explained, Sarah Pelham giving a firm nod in understanding. "He should steadily improve over the next few days, but if he doesn't, call me."

Assault came back not much later, and after getting my permission, he gave Director Piggot my phone number. The woman in charge immediately used to call me. After some discussion, we agreed that for emergencies, I would come to the PRT, and for non-emergencies, they would quietly bring their people to the hospital. That way, I could get all my healing done at once, in one place.

Not long after that, I had a similar conversation with one of the medical directors of the hospital. Until Panacea and I could share the load of healing, they would create a list of people who needed my help. No illnesses that could heal on their own, no bone breaks that weren't dangerous, anything that wasn't life-threatening or life-altering would be treated by normal doctors. If they had insurance, I would get paid, and if they didn't, I would do it for free. Of course, as usual, my guidelines were a bit more flexible for children, but they were mostly the same.

With the stopgap in place, I finally left the hospital. It was way too early to still be up, and I had a long day ahead of me. I had quite a few rituals to prepare for if I wanted to take full advantage of the new moon. I made sure that Mark, Sarah, and Victoria all had my number, with permission to distribute it among the rest of their family, before setting back out to the Docks community. I needed to sleep, and not only was there a bed for me there, but since I also needed to talk to Olivia, it was convenient.

I was thankful that Troy could basically guide himself, especially to locations he had been to before, because I fell asleep twice on his back, trotting down the empty streets of the Docks. When I finally arrived, I made my way quietly into the same sleeping space that I had before, happy to find it unoccupied. I crawled onto the foam padding and was out before I could even put the covers up.

The next morning, I woke up tired but managed to wash away some of the fatigue with a general healing spell. With any luck, a cup of coffee or two would solve the rest.

I left the sleeping area and made my way into the open space around the community. While enjoying an apple and an avocado for breakfast, I made my way around the community, asking about Olivia. I made sure to use one of her fake names, handing out healing as needed. After about ten minutes of getting no answers, the woman herself showed up.

"Heard you were looking for me," She said in a severe tone, pausing for a moment before smiling. "What's up?"

"I wanted to ask you something. Would you mind…?" I asked, gesturing to an alleyway that led away from the general community area.

"Ooo, ominous," She said before giving me a shrug. "Alright, fine, lead the way."

We left the community behind, Troy following after us as we looked for a private spot. Alya confirmed we were alone before we both sat down on an old, crumbling set of concrete steps.

"So, I wanted to make you something," I explained, getting right to the point. "Something to work with your powers. I wanted to know if you were interested since it could…. Well, it could lead to more eventually, and I wanted to know if you'd prefer just to stay out of it completely."

"What do you want to make me?" She asked, raising an eyebrow. "And what's the catch?"

"I haven't decided yet, to be honest," I said with a shrug. "But it would synergize with your powers, at least thematically, if not actually helping you with them. As for the catch, there is no catch, I'm just hoping you'll help defend the community or even work with me, but it's not a requirement."

She looked at me for a moment before snorting and shaking her head with a chuckle.

"Your such a fucking boy scout," She said, considering my offer for a long moment before nodding. "Alright, yeah. I can't promise how much of a help I'll actually be, but yes, you can make something for me, even if it draws me into this whole cape thing."

"Cool. Then I need to go find some containers," I said, standing up and dusting myself off. "When I do, I'm going to need a big vial of blood from you. That acceptable?"

"Really not inspiring confidence by asking for my blood," She pointed out, shaking her head. "But yes, it's fine."

"Good. Stick around for a bit," I instructed. "I need to go shopping, but it shouldn't be too long."

I quickly changed out of my uniform, pulling a set of civilian clothes out of Troy by using my plant manipulation spell to open a partial cavity in his chest. When I was done changing, pointedly ignoring Olivia's wolf whistles, I stuffed my costume back into the same cavity.

After a quick goodbye, I left the alley at a jog, leaving Olivia with Troy while I made my way to the more populated streets of Brockton Bay, eventually hailing a cab. I stopped by several stores, stuffing a duffel bag full of everything that I wanted or would need and running up a significant cab fare before having the driver drop me off nearby where I had left Troy. He was still there, waiting for me, and as I approached, Olivia appeared out of a shadow, fading in from the relative darkness.

"'Shouldn't be too long,' huh? You were gone for almost two hours!" She complained. "You're lucky I happen to be a fan of lazy mornings."

"I miss lazy mornings," I said with a chuckle, carefully putting down the duffel bag full of supplies I had bought. "Come here and sit down."

She nodded, once again sitting down on the worn concrete steps. Using a bloodletting spell for ritual crafting, I filled up a twenty-milliliter glass vial with her blood, stopping it with a natural cork. I now had hundreds of the same vail, thanks to a relatively well-stocked arts and crafts shop. A quick healing spell later and her finger was all healed up. I was very careful to direct the magic to her finger and keep it away from her scars. When the wound disappeared, she looked at her finger for a long moment.

"You could fix me, couldn't you?" She asked, looking up from her finger, her mismatched eyes locked on to me. "My scars, I mean."

"I could," I confirmed with a nod. "I was advised not to bring it up when I first saw you, though."

"...and my eye?"

"Yes."

For a long moment, she looked at me, studying my face. Eventually, she slowly reached out and took my hand, pulling it to her face until my palm was over her eye.

"Please. Just fix the eye," She said, sounding guilty of all things.

"Of course. Hold still, I might have to cast it multiple times to deal with the set scarring."

When she nodded, I focused my magic and chanted softly so I didn't startle her.

"Oculum laesum sana, visum ei restitue."

A triplet of arcane symbols glowed around the back of my hand, gathering healing magic before it pushed through me and into Olivia's eye. I repeated that spell three more times before finally pulling my hand away.

Olivia's eyes fluttered open, revealing a pair of bright green eyes, both of them completely clear of any scarring. I healed just enough of her eyelid that she could comfortably blink and look around, her eyes latching on to mine.

"Not bad, huh?" I asked. "Thank you for trusting me to help."

"It wasn't really about trust, but thank you," She said, standing up and looking up at the sky, then back down to me. "I think I need to go, but I'll see you again soon, yeah?"

"Gotta give you your gift eventually, don't I?" I responded with a small smile. "I'll be around, and you have a habit of finding me pretty easily."

"Hard to miss you," She shot back, turning to fade into a nearby shadow. "See you around, William."

"See you around, Olivia."

She vanished, leaving me 'alone' next to Troy. I quickly put my costume back on, storing my civilian clothes before climbing up onto Troy's back. I could feel the weight of the blood vial in my coat pocket, as well as the more physical weight of the duffle bag full of materials on my back.

By this point, it was only about noon, but already, I needed to get back to my forest compound. There was a lot I wanted to get done today, or more specifically, tonight, which meant I had a whole lot of work to do in the meantime.

The sooner I got to work on what needed to be done, the sooner I could start to prepare for the new moon and the several rituals I wanted to perform in order to finalize my compound.

I quickly rode through the city, making my way out past the outskirts and eventually heading into the forest. I made a decision that I would come and go from the forest as Arcanum, and then once in the city, I would take my costume off if I needed to attend something as a civilian. At this point, the only thing I really did as a civilian guise was shopping, mostly because I didn't want people to associate Arcanum with buying a two-hundred pack of glass vials with a natural cork seal or a second package of slightly larger vails.

When I finally got back, I let Troy wander around a bit as I offloaded everything that I had bought into the storage tree trunks. When I was done, I grabbed one of my enhanced metallic acorns, eager to get to work on my bedroom tree.



Hey everyone, just a reminder that I have a Patreon! Being a supporter has a lot of benefits, like early chapters and access to my original content. If you are interested in those benefits or just want to support my attempt to become a full-time writer, stop by and show your support. Every dollar helps!
 
Chapter Thirty Eight New
Hey everyone, just a reminder that I have a Patreon! Being a supporter has a lot of benefits, like early chapters and access to my original content. You could get up to eight chapters early from this story and either four or eight from my other two. Board Members even get to vote on story beats, interludes, names, and the bonus unlock during Arcanum's recharge cycle! (The first vote was for Geomancy, and the second was Druidcraft!)

If you are interested in those benefits or just want to support my attempt to become a full-time writer, stop by and show your support. Every dollar helps!




I spent about an hour growing my new living space, starting from a single ritualized acorn and ending up with a massive towering oak with a thick, overgrown base. I considered trying to camouflage the base a bit better, but it was a lost cause. Between the ritual platform, which was only a dozen or so feet away, and the plans to grow more buildings later, there was really no disguising the compound from the ground. I would just have to rely on my redirecting magic for people coming from the ground and the dense canopy to hide us from the sky.

The final result of my efforts was a pleasant, if a bit small, living space, complete with a wooden bedframe, furniture, some shelves, and other storage. It felt a bit basement-like, with no windows and only one short stairway leading up and out, but I was fine with that. The room was really only to sleep in, as the general design of the compound was outdoor-focused, and only when I wasn't sleeping in the community. I realized, rather embarrassingly, that I had no reason to pick a location and declare it my only sleeping spot. I could choose to sleep wherever was more convenient, bouncing between here and the Docks as necessary.

Along the outside of the living space, I grew what would eventually become a private outdoor shower. I was pretty sure I could ritualize a wooden vessel to pull in moisture from the air to fill it up, as well as keep the water clean and warm. Unfortunately, while I wanted to do that now, I didn't have the time. Time was running out to take advantage of the new moon, and I wasn't about to let an opportunity like that pass by.

In rituals, material sacrifices ranged from everyday objects to rare, priceless ingredients. Basically, rituals create an effect, either connected to a location, person, or item, and a material sacrifice stabilizes it, making it permanent or sometimes strengthening the effect. You could also tie a location or events going on around it to a ritual as another stabilizer. Material stabilizers came in all sorts of shapes and sizes, and sometimes, you wanted a stabilizer that couldn't normally be gathered or contained by mundane means.

I knew this for a fact because my knowledge of druidcraft, which contained a dozen or so rituals to enhance plants and harvests, had a ritual that required "the first sunlight of spring," as a sacrifice material. As far as an abstract, unobtainable concept, sunlight that shone on a specific day was pretty high up there. Contemplating the material showed me that the ritual could be done on the first day of spring, just as the sun was rising, or I could use a small glass vessel that contained a slight glow inside, with a single drop of dew hanging from the stopper.

So I knew gathering stuff like that was possible. On top of that, because of a connection through that knowledge to the ritual design and crafting subject, I could even sense quite a bit of information about how a material stored like that could be useful.

The problem was that as useful as such a storage method could be, I had no idea how to make them. The vial, which my knowledge insisted was responsible for the state of the esoteric ingredient, was a complete mystery to me.

The fact that it wasn't etched with symbols meant it was unlikely to be enchanted, and while its ability to trap otherwise ethereal ingredients could be due to what it was made of, I had to hope and pray it came down to a ritual. The fact that such a crucial material-gathering item wasn't covered by the "crafting " portion of my ritual knowledge meant that it could just be more advanced than I had easy access to.

I grabbed one of the vials from storage and sat down by the ritual platform, flipping through my notebook before eventually starting the design process. I had a feeling that the process would end up being a complicated ritual, since holding onto something that was inherently ethereal or conceptual couldn't be a simple task.

I spent an hour and some change working on the design, brainstorming ideas and potential solutions, before taking a short break to eat some lunch and drink some coffee. Before I started the design process again, I spent some time building a boardwalk-like platform around the living space tree, eventually connecting it to the ritual platform. When I was done with that, I worked on a golem core, dumping a significant portion of my supplies into it before I got back to work, finally finishing the ritual two hours later.

The process of making the containment vials was as complicated as I had feared, but with my knowledge of ritual design, I managed to predict what kind of material sacrifices would work with them, meaning I already had everything I needed to make them. It wasn't perfect, not by a long shot, but it would certainly do for now. Even better, I could perform the ritual in bulk, so I would only need to do the ritual once to get everything I needed.

I carefully traced out the ritual, which took up a significant portion of the platform. It took twelve material sacrifices, half of which were a bit of a stretch, each of them fitting in a small circle around the large ritual. When I was finally done, I carefully placed a hundred and fifty glass vials in the center circle, before feeding the ritual my magic.

Once it was complete, I tested one of the vials by quickly leaving the forest and holding it up to the sky, the sun shining down on me. Following my mental influence, the bottle gathered the essence of sunshine. When I felt that the bottle was full, I corked it, the small containment vial holding what looked like a tiny ray of sunlight inside, shifting and changing as I turned it in my hands. I could, just by holding it, see and feel that the vial contained sunlight with no extra concepts or additives.

I rushed back to the compound and threw together a simple ritual to test the containment vial's effectiveness as a ritual component. I quickly drew the ritual out before placing the vial in the center circle, with a singular candle as a material sacrifice. The result was a sealed glass vessel, similar to the original containment vail, with a flame inside. It put out a good amount of light but was only slightly warm to the touch.

"Well, looks like it works," I said with a smile, tossing the glowing light to Alya, who was just corporeal enough to catch it. "And I solved our lighting problem. With enough of those, I won't have to use the generator to charge a battery bank to plug in the string lights."

"Well done, William," She commented with a smile, turning the sealed vial over in her hands. "The original vial was stable?"

"As stable as I could get. They might break down after a few years, but I'm pretty sure I'll be able to transfer them over if I manage to grab anything interesting," I assured her. "They work with a lot of intent, so I'm pretty sure just holding them against each other, their mouths pressed together, would be enough to transfer them. If not, I'll think of something else."

She nodded and, after a moment, floated over to one of the storage cabinets, returning with a length of twine. She floated upwards, tying the bottle to one of the branches and letting it hang down by the string. It wasn't much light, but a dozen of them would keep the ritual platform lit pretty well all night.

"Good call," I said with a smile. "Once I'm done with today and tonight, I will make a few dozen of those and hang them around the compound."

After a short break to let my brain recover, I knuckled down and started designing the process for making Olivia's gift. I already had the designs for the final rituals for securing the compound, including the massive one, so they were all set for later. The gift, however, was turning out to be a rather large and complicated creation. I had several materials I wanted to work into the creation process, and that alone was going to make for a complicated ritual. For each extra material sacrifice, I needed to enhance and concentrate on the aspects I wanted while pushing back and filtering out everything I didn't.

By the time I finished the design process, I had been forced to turn on the generator so I could see what I was doing. The sun was setting, and the forest was quickly getting darker and darker. Still, it wasn't quite time to start yet, so I drew out the first ritual before stopping to eat a quick dinner. When I was done, I could feel that it was finally time. The sun had set completely, and the forest around me was completely dark. I flicked off the generator, looking up to the sky to see it filled with stars and nothing else, the moon dark.

My first task was to finish the basic rituals for hiding and protecting the compound, emphasizing and doubling down on the avoidance, discomfort, and forgetfulness aspects of it. In total, I did four more rituals, the magic seeping into the land around me, filling the clearing with a low glow before fading away. For each ritual, I could feel the new moon feeding into it, tying the effects to the concept of darkness and the unknown. Finally, when the last protective ritual was complete, it was time to tie it all together.

"Are you sure about this?" Alya asked. "I know I don't have to tell you that this is a big deal, but are you sure you want to go through it? We could find other options."

"I know, but none as good as this. I'm serious about making this place a safe place. Not to mention all of the other benefits," I pointed out as I continued to draw out the ritual lines. "Right now, it's just a simple living space and this platform, but eventually, I want to make this place a fortress. I plan on having allies like Olivia, a team, and I might even bring people here to protect them… Hell, I might even make this into a whole village for the Dock community. I want this place to be safe and well taken care of. The perfect place to practice and study magic. And in order to do that, someone needs to be in charge."

She let out a sigh and nodded. I could feel that she agreed with my decision but still wanted to make sure I understood the risk of what I was doing.

Once the lines and arcane symbols were finished, I laid out the sacrificial materials. Carefully, I placed down a wolf skull and a small ivory broach carved with a mother's name. A hand-made replica of the mother idol figure made from terracotta clay. A completed golem core, as powerful and complex as I could make it. A pile of dirt from the center of the clearing, a singular enhanced acorn, and finally, an ancient arrowhead knapped from volcanic stone.

When all of the materials were laid out, I did one final check of the ritual. I only had one shot at this, and while I was certain the ritual would function, it needed to be perfect. I checked every little detail, making sure that all of the arcane symbols were pulling from the right aspects of the items and suppressing everything else.

The last thing I checked before continuing to the next stage was that the ritual was pulling the concepts of new beginnings, new cycles, and fresh starts from the new moon. When I was certain the ritual was as perfect as I could make it, I made my way to the center, where a crude stone bowl, carved by my own hands, was waiting. I squatted down, careful not to disturb the ritual lines, before using the blood-letting spell.

For nearly two minutes I held the spell, filling the bowl completely, a carefully measured three hundred milliliters, around five percent of my blood, or just enough to fill a good-sized ceramic coffee mug. It wasn't enough to hurt me. In fact, it wasn't enough for me to even feel, but it was still a lot.

Especially when you considered that I would never be getting this blood back.

Using blood in rituals was a rather common thing. Blood was powerful, especially the blood of a mage, and functioned well in several roles. However, this was different. Here, I was not using it as a reagent or a magical conductor. I was sacrificing my blood, five percent of it, to this ritual. I would always have five percent less of my blood from now until the day that I died. It wouldn't affect me physically, a man of my size could lose that much blood with no noticeable effects. However, it did put me in danger of bleeding out faster since any wound would have a three-hundred-milliliter head start.

It was a sacrifice, but one that I needed to make. This was a significant step, something that would start to build now and would only become more and more powerful over time.

When I was done bleeding into the stone bowl, I wrapped my finger in a bandage. I couldn't risk any healing magic getting through and trying to restore my lost blood. Later, no amount of healing magic would bring the blood back, but for now, restoring my lost blood would remove my connection to what I had just given up.

I carefully exited the ritual circle before kneeling down beside it. After a long moment of staring, I took a long, deep breath. After slowly letting it out, I began to feed the ritual my magic.

Immediately, I could feel the arcane symbols and lines greedily drinking my mana. This was a deep, powerful ritual, so getting it started would take a lot more mana than I could give at once. So rather than try to blast through it after the initial contact, I slowed down, slowly feeding my magic into it. It took nearly an hour for the ritual to fill, the night getting darker and deeper until, finally, the lines and arcane symbols pulsed with my magic. The sacrificial materials began to dissolve, feeding themselves to my blood and the stone vessel, which itself began to glow a dark purple-blue.

Finally, when all the materials were gone, the blood-filled vessel seemed to collapse into itself, folding and cracking as if being sucked into a black hole. My blood was consumed by the magic, and suddenly, with a final snap, the vessel disappeared, a wave of magical energy rushing outwards, passing through me, flowing through the rest of the compound.

For a moment, everything was quiet. Then, suddenly, a massive wave of pressure rolled over both Alya and myself. I collapsed to my hands and knees, my fingers smudging the burned-out and completed ritual, even as Alya was forced to disperse, retreating inside my soul as she was banished in a split second. For a long moment, I struggled not to collapse further, as I felt something study me, taking a measure of who I was and what I wanted. Finally, after what felt like hours, the pressure passed, and I could feel a gentle hand caress my cheek, tilting my head upwards and helping me back to my knees.

For just a second, standing in the center of the now inert ritual, was the barest hints of a person. A humanoid form, female, almost entirely transparent, but still colored like a black and purple sky. She reached out, waving her hands, grabbing onto something, and pulling it into herself. As she did, I could feel all of the protective rituals I had performed pull tight, merge, and strengthen.

Then it was gone, the figure vanishing. For a moment, something touched my back, rubbing it soothingly before retreating completely. A comforting feeling spread through the compound, sinking into every stone, tree, and blade of grass.

And just like that, a Genius Loci was born.
 
Chapter Thirty Nine New
For a moment, I knelt there in the dark, my heart rate slowly lowering as I looked around the compound and the clearing. All around me, I could see and feel the weight of heavy, potent magic. As I watched, it slowly dispersed into the rocks, trees, and dirt. It felt like watching water get greedily sucked up and absorbed after being poured on parched, dry dirt or sand.

I let out a long, steady breath, satisfied that the magic had settled. As the moment passed, I delved into myself to check on Alya. I was once again reminded that while my companion was extremely useful, she was also highly specialized, meaning she was physically weak. The pressure wave of magic alone had been enough to knock her for a loop and force her back into my soul, just like when she had passed out after using too much energy. She would be back eventually, probably by the time I woke up in the morning.

Still shaking off the jitters of the rather extreme experience, I quickly stood up from the ritual platform and sat along one of the roots of the storage trees. I looked around carefully for a moment before speaking out loud.

"I know it's rather quick, but do you think you could clean the ritual platform for me?" I asked out loud. "It's okay if you're tired or low on energy, just ignore-"

Before I could finish my statement, a roil of magic, dark blue and purple, waved over the platform, washing away the soot left behind from the previous ritual. In fact, the platform was the cleanest it had been since I had made it.

"Thank you, I appreciate the help," I said with a smile. "I know physically manifesting is going to be difficult, but do you have a name? If not, you're welcome to pick one, or I can pick one for you. It's up to you."

I could feel a warm feeling on my chest, right above my heart, like someone was pressing their hand against me. Then, a soft touch on my lips, accompanied by a general happiness. The connection was nothing like what I shared with Alya, as the emotion was… much more simple and straightforward. Alya and I could talk entirely without words, using complicated emotions, general tugs, and mental gestures to communicate complex ideas and concepts.

What the Genius Loci was doing was a lot more simple, like painting a picture with only primary colors, whereas Alya got a much more generous color palette. Still, they managed to get the point across, the warm touches and emotions telling me that she would be happy with any name I gave her as long as it came from my heart.

"How about Kali?" I asked, "It's a Hindu Goddess, which I admit isn't my strong suit, but she was supposed to be a divine mother, and her name is connected to the Hindu word for black. Considering how you were born..."

A faint, loose hug tightened around me for a moment before it faded, leaving me with a smile. She was happy with the name, even if she was too tired to tell me herself. After the hug, I could feel her disappear, feeling the connection spread to the entire clearing. It wasn't too dissimilar from how Alya would disperse into the air, but where I could feel Alya directly all around me, I could only feel Kali in her metaphysical weight.

As she faded into a sort of dormancy, I looked down at the now clean ritual space. This was exactly why I wanted a Genius Loci around my home. Once she was properly awake, filled with mana, and had a little experience under her belt, she would be able to help me in a hundred little ways, making every task I did at the compound just a bit easier and cleaner.

Eventually, she would be a god in her domain, able to wave her hand and create or do whatever she wanted, shifting the world to her whims. A Genius Loci was fundamentally tied to their location. They were the land they inhabited, and so it followed their wants and desires.

Of course that was hundreds, if not thousands of years from now. Kali would need a lot of time, experience, and effort to reach that level of power. Until then, she would help where she could, maintaining the forest, the compound, and the people in it. A guardian angel for my new home, lending a helping hand or a gentle nudge whenever I needed it, all the while absorbing the residual or dispersed mana coming off from my rituals and other magic I performed in the forest.

I smiled and stood up, dusting myself off and turning the lights back on around the ritual platform. With Kali summoned and tied to her new domain, it was time to work on Olivia's gift.

I quickly copied the complicated ritual from my notebook and onto the ritual platform. This particular ritual was all about imbuing an aspect into a specific item, namely a long black cloak that I had bought used from a second-hand store. It was a bit worn but still in good shape, which was good because objects with history tended to work better for a lot of magic, even if it could make them a bit less predictable.

It also had a little tag worked into it. While the cloak would be Olivia's, it was still made from my magic. I made sure to strengthen that bond quite a bit, so that if I wanted to, say, give it a mental yank while she was close by, and turn it into so much fluff and torn cloth, I could. I got a good feeling from Olivia, and I felt like I could trust her to help me keep an eye on the Docks community, but I wasn't crazy enough to leave her completely unchecked with enhancements I made. And since it was something I had to consciously do, rather than some sort of hidden mechanism or triggerable consequence that might pop up if she wasn't careful, I felt comfortable not telling her about it.

When I was done, I carefully laid the cloak down in the center circle of the ritual before then placing out all of the material sacrifices. First was the vial of Olivia's blood, which would hopefully give Olivia a sort of claim over the cloak. It wasn't enough to keep other people from using it entirely, but it would undoubtedly give Olivia an advantage, while giving everyone else a disadvantage.

After her blood was in place, next came a vial of my shadow, taken with as much light contrasting it as I could, so that the shadow was the darkest and most well-defined. While the containment vial was filling up, I focused on the idea of general human shadow, rather than mine specifically, something the ritual symbols doubled down on.

Looking back, I could have also used a sample of Olivia's shadow, maybe to run counter to the "general" sample. If I wanted to upgrade this cloak or make her a new one, that was something I could consider, but for now, I would rely on the blood sample to connect the cloak to my friend.

Next was a sample of dark, moonless light, which looked beautiful inside the containment vial. It was a swirling black liquid dotted with stars that twinkled as the liquid moved. I made sure to grab a dozen samples of that, just in case I wanted some for later.

The rest of the samples were more mundane. A trio of onyx gemstones, several raven feathers, a jar of black ink for fountain pens, and finally, a container of deep black paint. If I had been making this for myself or anyone else, I would have most likely included something like coal, dark smoke from a fire, or even ground-up charcoal, but judging from the burns on her body, I knew Olivia had a bad history with fire. I wasn't about to traumatise her by making the cloak smell like ash or billow like smoke.

Once everything was in place, I quickly shut down the generator, and the clearing almost went completely dark. With a frown, I looked up at the hanging, newly made glowing light that Alya had hung from the protective canopy above the platform.

"Damnit…"

I cursed, looking around for a way to get the light down without damaging the ritual. I was about to get up and start manipulating the tree with magic to pull down the branch when suddenly I could feel Kali again. It was subtle, her energy barely rising from dormancy to tap the small glass vessel. The light inside dimmed for a moment before going out completely, leaving the entire area nearly pitch black.

"Oh… Thanks, Kali," I said with a smile, settling back next to the ritual.

Unlike the previous ritual, which had created an entire sentient entity, this ritual was much lower on the power scale. That meant that once I started pushing my energy into the lines and arcane symbols, I only had to keep pushing my mana for ten minutes before everything flared up and activated. I watched as, one by one, the material sacrifices fed into the cloak, fading into nothing as the ritual progressed. I could feel the excess energy being pulled back into the space around me, as opposed to floating free and fading into nothing. I could also feel Kali, still quiet and mostly dormant, reaching out and prodding the ritual, using her influence to enhance and reinforce the result.

Once everything was done, I quickly turned the lights back on, rushing to the center of the now burned-out ritual to pick up the cloak and inspect it.

Any sign of wear that the original piece of clothing bore was gone, completely healed by the ritualization process. It was also a much darker black, going from your average black cloth to a much deeper, almost illusory black, a color that wasn't natural.

I resisted the urge to try it on, wanting Olivia to be the first to wear it. I was honestly not entirely sure what it would do, but it was so steeped in the concept of shadow and darkness that I knew it would interact with her powers.

Once I was done examining it, I carefully folded it up and put it inside a paper bag before finally storing that inside Troy's chest. I had one last task for the night, something simple that I would need when I woke up. I quickly copied down an old ritual, one that took heavy inspiration from a ritual designed to make planter boxes self-watering from the druidcraft subject. When it was done, I put it onto the large water storage bucket I had grown with the creation of my private outdoor shower.

I could once again feel Kali poke and prod the ritual as it was underway. This time, as I wasn't so laser-focused on the ritual, I could really watch and feel what she was doing. Kali's understanding of magic was instinctual, as she was born from it. She was magic, and as such, she could feel it as easily as I would feel my breathing. She could also feel what I wanted, and as the spirit of the land, of my home, she could nudge the ritual as she pleased. I had hoped she would be capable of helping with my magic, but to watch her do it so easily, so quickly after she was given form was astonishing. It completely validated my decision to make her in the first place, as well as the price I had paid to do so.

With the water-gathering bucket finished, I pushed it into place above the shower, growing a tangle of branches and vines to hold it in place. Already, the interior of the vessel was looking moist, as if dew was collecting on the interior, dripping down the side, and pooling together.

When I was finally done getting my morning shower started, I made my way around the living space tree, heading down inside before shutting the simple door behind me. The interior was still pretty threadbare, as the bedframe was still just a frame, but that wasn't something I couldn't solve. It took me a good thirty minutes to get it right, but eventually, I managed to grow an interwoven lattice of tree branches to create a spring-esque mattress. I covered it with my overcoat for just a bit more of a cushion.

It wasn't optimal by any means, but I could remove the lattice work easily with another spell later. Besides, all things considered, it was actually pretty comfortable. Or maybe it was just that I was so incredibly exhausted from doing ritual work for literally eight hours straight. Either way, after rolling up some bags to use as a pillow and lying down, I fell asleep almost instantly.

The next morning, I woke up to the smell of coffee and toast. I nearly jumped out of my bed, my brain confused with what was going on. When I finally gathered my wits, I stopped and tilted my head. There, sitting on the small table next to the wicker, woven chair, was a steaming hot mug of coffee, two pieces of toast with peanut butter on them, and a perfectly sliced apple. All things I had brought with me from my temporary shop home, but obviously in different states.

"It was Kali," Alya explained, sitting on the edge of my bed in a semi-corporeal state. "It was here when I regained consciousness, and it's all stayed at basically the same temperature."

"Jesus, really proving me right here. Thank you, Kali. How are you feeling?" I asked as I gently sat down at the table. "Is there anything I can do for you?"

A gentle hand rested on my shoulder, and I could feel a happy smile radiating from the Genius Loci. After a moment, though, it shifted to a slight hunger, a question of how she would grow.

"Well, any ritual or magic I create here should help you grow," I pointed out. "I'm sure you could feel the rituals I did after I woke you up. Plus, all the trees and rituals for protection."

While the hand pulled away from my shoulder, I could still feel her confirmation that she was pulling the excess mana from what I had created. It was hesitant, though, as if she was worried about the amount.

"Well… I could also feed you magic directly?" I suggested, getting her attention. "Maybe a necklace that absorbs and pushes out my excess mana constantly. In fact… I bet that would help me increase my mana reserves, as if I was constantly using it…"

I considered the idea of a few seconds. The ritual of creating such a thing would be remarkably easy. I could easily create a simple temporary version with no material sacrifices just to test if it works.

"That's what I'll do, and I'll wear it around here so that you can absorb all my extra mana," I confirmed, getting a happy, eager feeling from my latest friend. "Also, I plan on making you a few golems. They should put off some extra magic, and you can influence them directly to do your bidding. That way, you don't have to do everything to manifest your higher powers. I'm sure this took a good chunk out of your energy reserves, didn't it?"

I guessed, gesturing to the food, only to chuckle at her response. It felt like every stereotypical mom or grandmother waving away compliments for her food or hard work.

"I appreciate it, Kali," I repeated with a smile. "I'll need to go shopping a bit to make more golems. I used the last of my gemstone resources to make the one I used to call you forth. I can do it between going to visit the Docks and the hospital.

I chatted with Alya and Kali for a few minutes, finishing my breakfast. When I was done, I grabbed my clothes and carried them outside with me to my shower. I nearly cried when I realized that Kali had heated the water for a ridiculously luxurious hot shower, with no need to go out and fill buckets or anything. Even with it being a bit short, it was well worth the work I put into making it.

When I was all clean and ready for the day, I dressed in my costume and quickly applied a steel absorption. When that was done, I whistled to summon Troy, climbing onto his back and riding him out of the forest, heading for Downtown.



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