It is instead a pleasant, unattended bar;

with explosions visible out the window dominating the wall to his left;

and a winged person, with a tail hanging down over the seat behind him, nursing some sort of hot beverage.

He turns his head.

"Hi."

It’s a good thing for mysterious-winged-person that the war ended two years ago, because Vanyel fresh off a battlefield might have set the bar on fire out of instinct.

As it is, he’s got his shields up and Othersenses on alert, power crackling at his fingertips, before the harmlessness of the surroundings registers. He awkwardly lowers his arms. “Excuse me, why are you in my...“ back up and start over, “sorry, actually, where are we?”

"Place is called Milliways. Bar's a person who communicates by napkin, if you close the door you stop time whence you came, people apparently come in through lots of universes. What's yours like?"

Vanyel stares at the winged person for ten seconds while his mind churns and gets stuck on: alarm, confusion, disbelief, more confusion but this time with a burning itch to resolve it.

Person with wings. Room where there shouldn't be one. Which stops time on the outside? Bar that...communicates...via napkins?

"Er," he says finally, "can I test that? Is anything bad going to happen if I open and close the door quickly a few times? Also what are the explosions over there and are they dangerous?" The stranger doesn't seem worried but there are plenty of situations where Vanyel would be unconcerned when an ordinary un-Gifted person ought to be panicking. 

Belatedly, his manners catch up. "My name is Vanyel. Pleased to meet you. My world is... I'm not sure what the relevant parts are to describe. It has magic? People can have various Gifts that let them use it in different ways. What's your world like?" 

"I think the test is fine as long as you're on this side; door reverts to normal if you're on the other. Explosions are stars blowing up which is normally dangerous but the danger's not getting through the window. I'm Cam. Uh, where I've been lately and where I live where I'm at home and where I'm originally from are all three different worlds so it's kind of a long story."

"Um, right." Vanyel is slightly reassured; 'stars blowing up' is more alarming than generic explosions but Cam is very un-alarmed. "I'm curious to hear the long story but...maybe not right now, I'm adjusting. I want to be on this side anyway because the thing I'm testing is the time-stopping." 

(If time does stop outside when he's in here – which is one of the less impossible-seeming pieces, given his experience with the Shadow-Lover's realm – then he doesn't care whether Cam is telling the truth about anything else, he's going to stay and hear out the long story. And then maybe stay for another week or two until he feels ready to cope with his family.)

He opens the door, glances around to make sure the courtyard is still empty, and then uses Fetching to snatch a hand-sized rock from the nearby ornamental garden. He balances it in his hand, tosses it high into the air, and slams the door shut before it can fall. 

"Now I guess I wait for a minute." He tries to smile at Cam. "That was an example of magic in my world. It's called Fetching and it's one of my Gifts, it can move objects. Hmm, actually, I wonder if it works in here?" 

Cam tosses a Koosh ball that didn't exist a second ago at him.

Vanyel flings up a hand and the ball disappears in a puff of flame. 

"Oh gods I'm so sorry, I didn't – you startled me, I didn't mean..." Vanyel brings a hand to his forehead. "That was really rude, I'm sorry, but – I would appreciate it if you didn't do things that surprise me – there was a war back home, it's been a while and I'm better about not being jumpy. But, um, I'm sort of on edge because this entire place is surprising. Sorry." 

"Oh. Uh, sorry. I'll try to be... unsurprising. Or, uh, at least not startling."

"It's not your fault. Um, that was a different kind of magic that my world has." Vanyel stands awkwardly for a moment, and then remembers the convenient distraction of his test. He opens the door again and scans for the rock (which ought to definitely be on the ground by now is time isn't stopped.) 

The rock clunks to the ground before his eyes.

"Yeah, the kind of magical creature I am can make stuff," says Cam.

Vanyel closes the door, goes to the bar, and sits down. He'd want to do more experiments to confirm time is stopped and not merely slowed before, say, sleeping overnight here, but he's convinced enough that no one will bother him or start to worry for a candlemark or two. 

It's a giddy feeling. He hasn't had this kind of completely-unpressured time off since the incident with the family priest and accompanying visit to the Shadow-Lover. 

"Make stuff?" he says. "I don't think our world has any Gifts that can exactly do that. Any kind of stuff? Does it need to be made out of some kind of raw material? Is it tiring for you or can you do as much as you like?"

"There are things I can't make but they all one way or another don't fall under the most basic definition of 'stuff' - I don't know what level of scientific understanding you're coming from. It's not made of anything. I can do it as much as I like. What kinds of things do Gifts do?"

Vanyel's mind is tallying up a list of implications. Level of scientific understanding – of course if he's ended up in a place outside time, with a person who's had access to multiple worlds, some of them will be more advanced, that part is fascinating and he wants to know everything right now but one thing at a time. The ramifications of 'can make arbitrary stuff' are also...absurdly important, actually, if he can persuade Cam to help out with some specific problems. 

Gifts, though. 

"A wide range of things," he says. "I guess mage-gift is the most versatile. I have it. It can...explode things, very effectively. Make shields, against physical attacks or magic. Make durable artifacts with various purposes. Illusions. Instantaneous long-distance transport, although that one is very costly. Pave roads – I do a lot of that. And a mage can imitate most of the other Gifts, with enough technique." 

Pause to think. "Most people have fewer Gifts than I do, usually it's one or two. Other Gifts are... There's Fetching, which you saw. Mindspeech and Empathy are pretty important Gifts; I can read thoughts and also project my thoughts to other Mindspeakers. We use it for long-range communication in the kingdom where I live. Empathy can read emotions and project them. Farsight observes things at a distance. Foresight lets you see the future and there are two types. Short-range shows events minutes to candlemarks in the future; long-range is what I have, it usually comes as a metaphorical vision of events a long time in the future. Firestarting is exactly what it sounds like, I have it but pretty weakly so I tend to just use mage-energy if I need something on fire. Bardic Gift – somewhat like Projective Empathy, but specifically for music, can cause an audience to experience things. Healing can, well, heal people. Mindhealing is...complicated. Mostly what it sounds like. It's really rare and I don't have it. Animal Mindspeech is the other repeatable Gift I don't have." 

"I'd rather you never read my thoughts or emotions, please. Or did anything to them. Ever. Please.

"None of those do the thing I'm waiting here looking for, sounds like."

“Noted. Just so you know, that is the kind of thing that we considered very unethical to do without consent, so I wouldn’t do it anyway.”

Vanyel frowns. “I mean. I am considered to be...someone who’s willing to do some unethical things. But I swear that I haven’t read your thoughts or emotions, or done anything to them, and I’ll make sure to shield while I’m here so I don’t pick up anything by accident.”

He hesitates. “Er, I can’t imagine how I would end up in a situation where I needed to read your thoughts in order to save the lives of half a million people in expectation and there wasn’t time to ask permission. That’s the only circumstance I can imagine where I would consider doing it non-consensually, and if you’re telling me that you still wouldn’t be okay with it, then...I can promise that I wouldn’t do it even then. Anyway. What is the thing that you’re looking for?”

"...uh, I don't actually require you to draw the line as high as half a million. Like... one person would probably be plenty if you were actually really sure and it wasn't a really major violation, though I don't see how it'd come up.

"I want to resurrect some people."

Vanyel relaxes. “That’s, er, good to know - it’s not a promise I would prefer to make, all else equal, but I’ve learned the importance of respecting other people’s bright lines, and staying on friendly terms with the first person I’ve met from another world is worth a lot.”

He takes a deep breath, re-settling himself. “What, um, happened to the people you’re trying to resurrect? I might know someone who could help. Who could plausibly resurrect people in my world, at least, and who I’m...on friendly terms with.” It’s a strange way to describe his relationship with the literal god of Death but it isn’t false.

"Uh.

The entire planet they were standing on was destroyed."

“Oh. Gods.” That is so much worse than Vanyel thought an answer to that question could possibly be, but he’s relaxed enough that he manages not to instinctively knock over his stool or, fortunately, set anything on fire. “I’m - that’s - I’m so sorry. That’s awful. How? There’s somewhere that has weapons...magic...? that can destroy a planet?” 

The thought flashes through Vanyel’s mind that maybe he should bolt out and slam the door, no matter how interesting or potentially valuable as an ally Cam is, because as long as he’s on this side, and this place is a crossroads of some kind for other worlds, said weapon has a potential path to his world.

He decides against. More important to hear the rest. He can always run away screaming at a later point.

“Was it your world?” he adds, weakly. “Your home one, I mean.”

"No, it wasn't mine.

"I put it back. I can put most of the people back too but not all of them."

“Right. Making stuff. Useful.” Vanyel has about a thousand questions, mostly about the ‘can put most of the people back’, but, looking at Cam’s face, decides not to press.

“The...person...I mentioned,” he says finally. “Actually the avatar of a god. Of Death. We call him the Shadow-Lover. It’s a long story, but I have a bad habit of doing things that would get me killed, and then I end up in his realm and we talk and he sends me back. I’m pretty sure he could do it for people who’d been dead, er, longer, if he had a place to put them. In my world, anyway. Not sure he could do it outside of my world, but...I would ask. For this. Since I assume it’s a lot of people and that’d be worth it.”

"It's about a million of the species I can't put back. I... kind of doubt an extradimensional god of death can finagle it but I wouldn't tell you not to check, if you can."

“I kind of doubt it as well but it’s worth a try. Although I do need to arrange a near death experience, and I’m not sure how to do it in a way that’s safe-ish and doesn’t massively inconvenience anyone or upset my aunt, and probably I need to be back in my world...”

Vanyel shrugs. “I’ll mull it over.” And, in the meantime, maybe change the topic to something that doesn’t make him feel so glum. “Er, care to tell me about your original home world? Also, how do I get a drink like yours - ask by napkin?”

"She can hear you, just walk up to her."

It feels very awkward to address a piece of wood, but Vanyel leans forward. “Bar? Could I please, um, have one of what he’s having?” He isn’t sure if drinks in this place would go by names he would recognize.

Of course. The first one is free. A beverage appears.

"Right. Is there a specific kind of local currency you take, if I want to buy a drink, or does anything work?" Vanyel has a pouch of coin in the pocket of his Whites, which he isn't at all opposed to spending on drinks from a talking bar in a room outside of time; it's not like he has enough of a personal life to spend his Heraldic stipend anywhere else.

He sips the beverage, belatedly hoping it's not the case that winged, tailed magical creatures of unknown provenance have drastically different taste preferences from ordinary humans. Another question that got pushed down the queue, earlier. "Cam, what, er, species are you? If you don't mind my asking." 

I can take arbitrary currency and also barter.

The winged tailed magical creature apparently likes mocha.

"Uh, there's a translation effect in Milliways but in the language I've been speaking we're called 'demons'."

Vanyel is pleased to discover that he also likes mocha. 

"...That's a very unhelpful translation, sorry – in my world demons are...people call them evil, it's not really a useful categorization. They're from the Abyssal Plane, which is a sort of magical other level of reality, I don't know if your world has that kind of thing. They're extremely stupid, constantly hungry, and you can summon them if you want a thing eaten but that's about the only use case. You're clearly something different."

"Um, we - have mythologically-influenced bad PR, as a group - and can be summoned, but not especially the rest."

"Can all, er, demons – sorry, is there any other name I can use, I've had some very bad my-world's-kind-of-demon experiences and I don't want to be picturing a multi-legged black monstrosity flailing at my face every time I say it." Vanyel drags a hand over his face. "Can all of your kind make stuff? Is that generally what people summon you for?" 

"Is 'makers' better? Yes and yes."

"That's much better. And: wow. That must have a huge effect on your world – oh, can you be summoned to other worlds too? How does it work; do people arrange trades with you for things they want? I guess it doesn't cost you much to make stuff but it does cost time. And maybe annoyance, if they're annoying–"

Vanyel breaks off. "I'm sorry if that's too many questions, it's just, I'm really curious about everything now that I know there are more worlds out there. And I'm trying to figure out if it means anything relevant for my world, I mean, other than getting as long as I want to hide from my family. Which is really nice right now." 

(Vanyel is still thinking about a million people who are dead because their planet was destroyed, and it's rebuilt and waiting for them but they aren't there, Cam can't fix that part alone, and he doesn't – it probably won't work, asking the Shadow-Lover's help, it would be sort of ridiculous if it did, but it's a thread he can pull and he has to at least try.) 

"Summoning us - and the other two kinds, call 'em changers and movers I guess - might or might not work in your world. I have inconsistent evidence. Trades are typical. I don't really mind answering your questions per se but at some point I'm probably going to have to explain my long complicated story and I'm not looking forward to it."

"I'm sorry. Er, would it help if I told you my complicated story for why I wanted to hide somewhere? It's, um, related to a thing where I really screwed up. Several layers of screw-up. And...one part where I think I did the right thing, probably, but nearly everyone disagrees. It's all sorted out now, as much as it can be, but things are pretty awkward at home."

Another sip of mocha. "...Um, and if it wouldn't help, that's fine too." 

(Vanyel is surprised to find that he wouldn't mind talking about it. Maybe it's that he only has one reference for 'a place to hide outside of time', and it's the Shadow-Lover's realm, where he makes a habit of complaining about everything he never gets the chance to share otherwise. Maybe it's just that Cam is likable.)

"I guess it's the sort of thing that in principle might help but I don't expect it to, really."

“Oh. Um, that’s fine then, I don’t have to.” Vanyel pretends to stare intently at the explosions, to hide his flush of embarrassment, it’s not helpful to feel as unbearably awkward as he does but it’s happening anyway.

“I should eventually at least tell my Companion where I am,” he says finally, mostly to have something to break the silence. “Sorry - a Companion is an intelligent magical spirit in a horse body, it’s a thing in my kingdom. I’m not really looking forward to telling her, though, she’s...going to be weird about it. It’s not like she’ll worry, anyway, if it’s only been a few seconds out there.”

"What's she going to be weird about?"

"Hard to explain, and I'm not sure that she will, but...just that it's weird? The whole part with there apparently being other worlds and different magic. I think we have a communication issue around things that are weird." Vanyel shrugs. "I don't know how to point at it better without getting into, um, the really high context long story." 

"I guess that's fair."

"...You know, you would hate being Chosen. By a Companion, I mean. Given the mindreading and all."

"...yes. I would hate that a whole lot."

"The way it's supposed to work, where I'm from, is that if you're Chosen, your Companion is just in your head. All the time. It drove me up the wall at first. I guess it never occurred to me to wonder if the mindreading bothered me, it's so taken for granted, but the nagging got on my nerves. A lot. I...sort of stopped letting her read my surface thoughts, a while back." 

Vanyel's smiling. Kind of surprising, given the topic, but he's...cheerful? "Bar? Could I have another one of the same – actually, do you have a similar drink with a different flavor?" He pulls out his pouch of coins. 

Bar produces a caramel latte and a pricetag-napkin.

"It sounds less bad if you can stop allowing it?"

Vanyel glances at the napkin, checking if it's actually denominated in Valdemaran coppers or silvers. A drink at a cheap tavern costs around a copper, a good tavern might be five, but this is delicious enough that he wouldn't mind if it were more. 

"People with mind-Gifts in my world can also shield. That means, no one can read my mind against my will, except maybe a Mindhealer if they were trying for some reason, but they're generally ethical – oh! I wonder if I could teach you to shield. Then even if you run into someone with my world's kind of mindreading and fewer scruples, you'd be protected. Un-Gifted people in my world can learn to shield, usually, they just tend not to have access to training." 

It's two coppers.

"What kind of time investment are we talking about here? I'm not planning to leave Milliways till I find someone who can help with my million dead people."

"It depends if you pick it up quickly? Might be a candlemark or two, might be a lot longer, I haven't tried to teach un-Gifted people before. But I understand if it's not your top priority." 

Vanyel forces his teeth to un-grit. "...Given what is your top priority, I should make a plan for how to ask the Shadow-Lover, so you can at least cross that off if it's a no-go. And, um, there's someone else who probably can't do it himself, but who would definitely know for sure if there are any other powers in this world to investigate. I'm almost certain he would want to help given the payoff. The problem is the 'almost' – I can't verify what he wants or whether he's on, er, the side of good. I'm trying to think if there's a way that your making-stuff could solve that." He takes a deep breath. "I probably do need the whole story and all the context, to make either of those asks." 

"Right, that's reasonable.

Uh. I guess the short one without all the extraneous details is - I made a deal with an evil god. He has to stop... doing evil. That's verifiably enforceable. Unless I made a mistake with the wording it's a done deal. What he wanted was - not even the whole million of them, just fourteen - fourteen other gods dead. Only way to do it was to - destroy the planet. Without warning anybody.

I can put most of the planet and people back."

Vanyel absently gulps the rest of his drink while trying to figure out what in all hells is an appropriate thing to say. 

"That's really impressive," is what comes out.

Which is true but probably not helpful. "I, um, I mean – I'm sorry, that sounds awful, I'm...amazed that you're sane – I don't mean any offense by that, sorry..." He's doing such a terrible job of this. "I don't know what mechanism your world has for enforcing a deal like that–"

And Vanyel wants to know, it's exactly the sort of thing that might imaginably solve his little trust problem with Leareth (who he's pretty sure would also be impressed with Cam's scheme), and he wants to know how 'making stuff' lets Cam bring back specific people who were dead, but he so, so incredibly shouldn't ask right now, and especially shouldn't ask if it might extend to his world...

"But if you were justifiably confident it would work," he says, "if you're right about pulling it off, and if 'evil god' means the magnitude of awfulness that I'm imagining, then you did, well, at least I think you did the right thing. I'm sorry you had to. I really hope you find someone who can help you make the cost lower. With those million people. I'm going to try to think through exactly what other details I need before I go, er, ask, because I'm sure you don't want to talk about it any more than you have to." 

"Most of the people in that universe were - copies and copies and copies of people he'd captured, because they were a kind of person he could copy as many times as he wanted, and make experience time a lot faster, and then torture constantly. And he was definitely already doing it before he could offer to stop to get the other gods murdered. Uh, that kind of god - the fifteen big ones and the million-odd littler ones, collectively Ainur - plus a couple of the regular non-god species of the world - can make binding oaths. It would normally not make sense to trust an Ainu's oath because they have to actually speak it and not use an illusion or something but it turned out - tested with a friendlier one - that I can selectively conjure only the audio recordings of real spoken words, so I could tell if he'd really said the wording we gave him or not. - I was working with some people who were, uh, conducting a more recognizable kind of war with the evil god."

Vanyel's mind spends about three seconds diving into all his questions about kinds of people that can be copied and made to experience time faster and what that even means, catches on the 'torture constantly', and goes into lockdown, that's something he definitely isn't going to think about right now. 

"Smart that you tested it," he says faintly. "I'm glad you had access to a friendlier god, must've been helpful. I, um..." Ask the relevant questions, he reminds himself, not all of them at once. "Is the fact that the evil god could make copies of people related to why you can bring most of the people back? And it's the million little gods – the beings that could make binding oaths – that you need help with?"

"Yes and yes. The copiable people have - I'm guessing here based on your clothes and your money what kind of tech level you have, correct me if I seem to be guessing wrong - they have complicated tiny machines inside their heads, and everything that goes on in their brain, the machine records. If they die, you can dig out the machine and put a new body around it and they're good as new. If you're an evil god, you can dig out the machine and take the recording and re-write it to more and more machines and then without even needing a body they can think and feel. Also the machines sent their information to one of the fourteen dead gods and he could make replacement machines and bodies, if he wanted, to bring them back to life, and there were also some devices one of these people invented that took copies too. Makers can't make minds. If I made a copy of, say, you, it'd just lie there. Nothing smarter than a snail works right when we make it. But I can make the bodies and the machines and then copy the recordings off those devices, since I was working with the inventor's people. That' s how I'm putting the people on the destroyed planet back. I'm about halfway done."

"That's... I followed that but barely and it makes my head hurt," though how much of that is because it's horrifying, "and I...have more practice thinking about weird hypotheticals than most people in my world. So it's possible you overestimated our tech level, I don't know." Vanyel rubs his eyes. "So, right, I see how that's a case of just making 'stuff' – although I think it means your maker ability is a lot more powerful than I thought, if you can make a specific item without actually knowing all the specifics of it, just sort of...having a label? Magic in my world isn't like that, you get exactly what you put in."

Stay focused. "Anyway, so it wouldn't apply either for a person without a special machine in their head, like me, or for a god. Er, what kinds of beings are gods, in your– in the world where this happened? Are they magical? People in my world have spirits, that...get stored, sort of, if their body dies," and he's not going to think about that either, thank you, "but I assume that's related to how magic fits in with other natural forces here, so it won't necessarily hold for those gods even if they are magical in some sense." 

"Ainur are magical. They're something like a region of space in which they can control matter; they can use this to build and operate a body, but they aren't themselves the body or any part of it, and can do without one. And yeah, I can make stuff based on a label, like title and author for a book, but I can't get too cute with it."

"Huh. How does one kill an Ainu, then? If they're not really embodied or reliant on a body and they control the space around them? I'm also curious what 'too cute' looked like, er, but that's less important." 

"Uh. Is your planet understood to be a sphere?"

"Yes, we do have astronomy and some scholar somewhere did an experiment once – 'understood to be' might imply more of the population knowing it than I think does, but I am fairly sure our planet is spherical. Why?" 

"Planets are spherical because stuff, in general, goes toward other stuff; a planet is a lot of stuff that has done this and accretes in a round fashion because that's the way it can do it most efficiently. This is also why toward the planet is down.

"I made a lot of very very dense stuff in the middle of their planet. This didn't just eat the planet, it also turns out to have weird effects on space itself."

"Oh! I think I read a treatise once with a theory about that. Um, not the part where it eats the planet or gets even weirder, about that being why planets are round. What sort of weird effects?" 

"...I have an engineering education but not really a physics one. My deal with Melkor was to hole the planet - dense stuff is called 'black holes' - and was explicitly still on if it didn't work as long as it wasn't because I warned them to do magic about it. So exactly how it would kill them wasn't really at issue except that he thought it would work."

Possibly Vanyel needs to acquire a 'physics education', whatever that is. Not now, though. Focus. 

"Right. So if you, er, mess up the area-of-effect for Ainur badly enough, like by doing that to their entire planet, they die. Tell me if this is a useless line of questioning you've already been down, but...what does that actually mean? I understand what it means for a human body to die, physically, and what it means in our world for the spirit, soul, to get broken off from the body and go elsewhere. Do you know what happens to the Ainu that died, magically speaking, given that it basically is just a field of magic?" 

"Uh, no, but I could get more detail if any of the survivors from the other inhabited planet will talk to me. They might not. They're... upset. They can talk to each other inst- at any distance. And were talking to the ones I killed, in the background."

"Oh." Vanyel holds back on the 'that's horrible.'. "I'm calling that information costly to obtain, then. Probably not worth trying before I find out if the Shadow-Lover would even be willing to work outside my – his – world. I'm going to sit here for a bit and think if there's anything else he would be likely to ask me." 

Vanyel thinks. 

"If you know anything more about how their communication at a distance works, in the local magic, that would be useful? I might be missing something else obvious that I should ask."  

"I was about to say 'instantaneously'. You know how thunder is slower than lightning?"

"Yes – why?" It's going to be some other bizarre law of nature that Valdemar hasn't discovered yet, like how very dense things eat planets, isn't it?

"Light has a speed. The two planets are twenty five years at that speed apart. Uh, I think the translation effect is okay at units because I have a guess at what a candlemark is. But the Ainur talking to each other are really instant."

"Right, so they use magic to talk much faster than if they were, I don't know, beaming a giant flashlight back and forth? Is that very unusual?"

"Light is the fastest non-magical thing. The copiable people - they're called Elves - had invented ships that could go anywhere five days, but they didn't do that by traveling at a speed, they did it by doing some other thing I don't actually understand which made the transit time anywhere in the universe five days."

"That's – what does that even, how–" Not. The. Point. "Sorry. I'm going to think about this for a moment and then try to summarize." And maybe Vanyel will ask Bar for another delicious drink. He wants something to get ready for his upcoming appointment, the fact that he presumably has to ask Yfandes for help planning which means explaining, and he needs to go – right.

"Also, I forgot to ask. Door stays a door to here if someone's holding it. Can I, um, call someone else to do that?" Yfandes may or may not fit inside but could at least prop it with her body – but not if she's helping him orchestrate a deliberate near-death experience, and Savil is an even worse proposition than Yfandes... Lissa, maybe. She might actually be incurious enough to hold a door to an otherworldly room and make conversation with a winged tailed stranger without asking him any more questions. 

Yes, anyone from your world can hold it open to your world.

"If it's someone else from my world - my sister, say - could she close the door and hang out in here and then open it again later to let me in?" Vanyel is picturing Lissa's reaction to the whole thing, and the one thing he's sure of is that she's going to see a bar and want a drink. He frowns. "Oh, but I guess that would mean time was paused outside in my world, relative to here? That might be inconvenient if Cam is waiting on me to, er, get my answer." 

Yes, time will only pass in your world while the door is open, unless something unusual is going on. But someone else from your world can maintain door access in the same way you can.

“That’s very helpful. Thank you, Bar.”

Vanyel turns back to Cam. “Um, I wanted to ask. If there’s anything you can think of - with your maker power, or knowledge from more, er, advanced worlds - if there’s any definitely reversible way I can arrange to almost die. I was thinking I would use my magic to remove all the air from a shield-bubble that I’m inside, but...I expect it to be extremely not fun, and it’s not maximally safe since there’s not actually a Healer in residence in my father’s keep right now.”

"Uh. I went to medical school and could probably dose drugs for that without actually killing you but maybe you should ask the person staffing the infirmary to come with you. She can't help me with my thing, I checked, but she'd probably be able to spot you."

“You have an infirmary here? That’s incredibly useful, and yes, I should definitely do that if you’re comfortable with it, thank you!”

"It's around the corner. Uh, I don't want to actually leave the premises but I can administer at range if you don't mind being within sight of the door for it. This is so you can talk to your death god? He didn't leave a mailing address?" Cam gets down from the barstool and shows Vanyel around to where the infirmary is.

“...Yes. And no. I might ask him for one though.” Vanyel smiles briefly as he follows Cam. “Never had a reason to, um, contact him deliberately before, the other times were the an incidental result of someone trying to kill me. Or my being an idiot. I wouldn’t expect you to go out there and I don’t mind being within sight of the door.” He would slightly prefer a less public locale, but if it does bring his entire family running, at least he’ll have already accomplished the task.

The infirmary contains a woman who stands up and says, "Show me where you're hurt," when they come in.

"She's kind of, uh, weird," says Cam. "Her world has no published written material Bar can get ahold of - Bar is also a library - so I don't know how to figure out what her deal is."

“Huh.” Vanyel smiles at the woman. “I’m not actually hurt right now, but there’s something I, um, wanted to ask if you could help with...” He repeats the request.

"He isn't hurt but he is going to be. Can you come out and wait, and when he's hurt, heal him?" Cam clarifies when she looks nonplussed.

"Yes," she says.

She follows them out.

"Bar," says Cam, "is he pharmacologically human like what I trained on so far as you know?"

Yes.

"How old are you, do you have a preexisting caffeine tolerance, are you allergic to anything, do you have any conditions affecting your general health especially your heart and lung function, you probably don't know your blood type and it probably won't come up but -" He materializes something. "B-poz." It goes up in flames. "Do you know how much you weigh?"

Vanyel blinks at Cam for a moment. “I’m thirty years old - years in my world, I don’t know if that differs between worlds? I have no idea what ‘caffeine’ is, I’m not allergic to anything as far as I know. I did get stabbed in the lung once, long story, but I think it got completely Healed, I got stabbed in the gut on a different occasion and that one still bothers me sometimes but not in a way where it’s dangerous according to our Healers. One time my heart stopped when I had horrible pneumonia but I suspect that’s less because of anything wrong with it and more because the Shadow-Lover wanted to tell me off for being an idiot. I think that’s everything relevant there. I weigh nine stone.”

"...coffee, which you've now had two cups of, contains caffeine. Probably don't have more today if you're not used to it. You'll develop a tolerance and it's addictive and it can make you anxious."

“Oh.” Vanyel spends a moment trying to figure out if he’s anxious, or otherwise feeling different than he would expect. “...Is that why I’m in a weirdly good mood? That’s too bad because I wanted more, but I guess that makes sense if it’s addictive, and I won’t.”

"People can responsibly use caffeine to, like, wake up in the morning every day with a skipped weekend once in a while to ratchet their tolerance down, but you should be aware you're doing it. I use it to skip sleep because I don't in fact need sleep and can't be addicted to things, but you're a human."

“...I’m so jealous, needing to sleep is one of my least favorite parts of being a human. I’ll be responsible, though.” Vanyel glances at the door. “Shall we? I’ll need to give my Companion a quick explanation and then ask her to find my sister to hold the door open for us.”

"Go ahead."

Vanyel opens the door and sticks his head out. 

:Yfandes? I need you to find Lissa and drag her over to the chapel. And, um – something really important happened and I promise I'll give you all the details soon but I need you to be patient. Quick version is: I found a magical room outside time that connects other worlds sometimes, and I met someone from another world who really, really needs our help. In order to bring about a million people back from the dead, it's important. I have a plan to talk to the Shadow-Lover and I swear it's safe; the person I met, Cam, has a really powerful kind of magic and also access to a Healer, he's helping. I just need Lissa to hold the door so it stays open to the magical place outside time, and I need you to...be nearby. And not panic that I'm going to reversibly die for five seconds. And maybe while I'm at it, I can ask the Shadow-Lover about some of our other problems: 

Pause. 

:'Fandes, listen, we...could really use Cam's help. But he's not going to do anything else until he's solved this problem. Understandably. So I want to make that happen: 

:Chosen, are you INSANE?:

(There are mental horse grumbles. Vanyel pushes across some of his memories of the last candlemark. He doesn't back down. ) 

:Fine, I'm coming. But we need to have a talk after this: 

A while later, a girl comes jogging toward them, with a white horse following behind her. 

"Van, what do you – wait. What?" She reaches the door. "What happened to the chapel? Why is there – ooh, is that a bar? Who's this? Van, can you please tell me what's going on?" 

"It's a place outside time. At least when the door is closed and I'm inside. It's complicated. This is Cam – Cam, meet my sister, Lissa." Vanyel says it as matter-of-factly as he can. "Lissa, I promise I'll explain everything soon, but right now I need you to hold the door open so I can step out for a minute without losing the way into this place. I'll buy you a drink at the bar after."

He hands off the door to Lissa, steps outside, and waves to the woman in the infirmary. :Yfandes, sorry: 

"Cam, I think you can go ahead and, er, do the thing now." 

"It's nice to meet you, Lissa. You ready?" Cam asks the healer.

"...do you need healing?" she asks, confused.

"...go stand over there," Cam says, pointing where Vanyel is. "He's going to."

She goes and stands over there and watches Vanyel.

"You might want to, like, lie down," Cam tells him.

"Oh, right, that's a good idea." Vanyel lies down on the cobbles and crosses his hands under his head. :See, 'Fandes, we have a plan and everything: 

He waits, trying not to be nervous, it's not like he hasn't died four times already and this time isn't going to involve any stabbing. 

"Count down from ten for me?"

"...Um, sure. Ten, nine, eight..." 

"Honestly, Van, do I even want to know what you're doing?" 

Vanyel doesn't get to seven.

"- okay, now," Cam says to the healer.

The healer lays her hand on Vanyel's forehead.

Yfandes is an extremely unhappy Companion, but only briefly. 

Vanyel tries to sit up, fails, mumbles something indistinct, and settles for flopping over. 

"M'fine...just a minute... Cam, need paper. Notes. Useful conversation. Long though." He feels a lot like he was just woken from a deep sleep in the middle of the night after an evening of drinking far too much. He's also inexplicably freezing cold. Overall, though, it's one of the most pleasant ways that he's ever almost died. "Should we – door – inside?" 

Lissa doesn't let go of the door and run to Vanyel, but she looks like she wants to. Instead, she turns to glare at Cam. "You. What just happened?" 

Paper appears. "- uh, he decided to postpone explaining, so I think I'm going to defer to him on that? Please don't let go of the door -" He appears a wheeled platform under Vanyel attached to a rope, wheels it in.

"That's really neat! How did you do that?" Lissa aims the glare at her brother instead. "Van, you really owe me for this one. Oh – if we're all coming inside now, can I let go of the door? Van promised me a drink but he looks, um, indisposed. How do I order? I don't see anyone..." 

Yfandes stares longingly at the door, which is slightly too narrow for a horse to squeeze through. Vanyel is busy trying to write out a list, with dubious success. 

Cam hands Lissa a little sack of coppers. "The bar is magic and can hear you." And he makes toasty air around Vanyel. "Uh - Yfandes? You should be able to fit in, door's magic -"

Yfandes rushes through the door, which somehow gives her no difficulty, and settles herself onto the floor, resting her head on Vanyel's stomach. 

He shoves at her, not very effectively. "'Fandes, I'm busy." 

"Ooh!" Lissa beams at Cam. "That's incredible! Did you make this place too?" She darts over to the bar. "Bar? Can I get a – actually, never mind. Surprise me. Just make sure it'll get me tipsy." 

First one's free! Here is something fizzy and pale yellow.

"No, I didn't make it, I found it same as him."

Vanyel levers himself up on one elbow. He smiles in Cam's general direction. "You made the, um, the warm? Thank you, s'nice. Have some thoughts..." He rubs his eyes and then absently reaches for Yfandes' made. "Sorry. Had to write it down. Talked about some other things too, relevant to my world. Anyway."

He makes an apologetic face. "The bad news is that the Shadow-Lover doesn't think he – er, the larger god that he's an avatar for, that is – can help directly. Though he said I could try the same thing again in the world in question, and if I do still end up in his realm, They can try to follow me back."

Pause while Vanyel scrabbles at the paper. "The rest is, we mostly talked through half-baked ideas. Suggestions were, hmm... I experiment with my kind of magic in that world; which kinds work and how might tell us more about the way magic works there. In particular, could try scrying or Farsight on the affected area, um, where the planet used to be. And I could talk to other gods. Since they're not mad at me. Um, also. Really should bring in my, er, acquaintance. S'not just that he knows everything about this world – he's immortal, see – but he's smart, he thinks like...like you did, making that plan in the first place. He'll see things I don't. Problem is he might be evil. Dunno for sure how to verify he's not, but if you're willing to contribute your maker power, can arrange something." He grimaces. "You're not gonna like it though. Thing I need most is to read his mind. On neutral ground, safe... Could let him read mine too, just to – need trust. Unless you've got better ideas."

And he flops back again. "Might need a nap." 

Lissa nearly spits out a mouthful of her drink (which is delicious). 

"Van, what in all hells are you talking about?" She looks imploringly at Cam again. "Are you sure you can't explain? He doesn't seem like he's going to." 

Cam tows Vanyel toward the couches by the fireplace and heaves him up onto the couch, presuming Yfandes allows this. "Uh, this is a magic interdimensional crossroads place. I found it. He found it. He wanted to ask your world's death god something. She's a healer from another world - you can go back to the infirmary," he adds to the healer, who scurries. "And was on standby to make sure he was okay while I provided a safer near-death experience than his own idea. He asked the death god if he could help with some people where I came from who are dead and I want to resurrect."

Lissa's face goes through a series of interesting expressions. "Oh. I see. Right. That's...gods, that's the most Vanyel plan ever." She rolls her eyes. "Thing you need to know about my little brother. Is that he will look for excuses to do self-destructive things and argue he's being helpful. Not saying his crazy idea wasn't worth trying, just, try not to indulge him in future?" 

(Yfandes hovers nearby and watches Cam intently, but doesn't try to intervene.) 

Lissa gulps the rest of her drink. "Anyway, I'm sorry the Shadow-Lover doesn't want to help you. I'd offer to help but I don't have magic or anything, I'm just good with a sword. In case that's useful at all. Bar? Can I pay for another one of those?" 

"I don't think it is but I'll keep an eye out."

Two copper.

Vanyel lies with his eyes closed, snores briefly, wakes up and grabs for his paper again, blinks at the ceiling for a while, yawns, and finally sits up. 

"Sorry. I'm awake now. Lissa, I'm sorry I didn't explain. I think Cam covered it? Cam, if you have more questions, I know that came out pretty jumbled–"

"He most certainly didn't!" Lissa slams two coppers down on the bar, and then yelps. "Sorry! Bar, that was rude. I'm mad at my brother, not you." She spins back to face Vanyel. "First of all, are you friends with the Shadow-Lover or something? Secondly. Who in all of Velgarth is your 'acquaintance'? Immortal? Maybe evil?" 

Vanyel sighs. "Sorry. I should explain it properly to both of you at once. I want to hear Cam's initial thoughts, though." 

"Uh. If the both of you and whoever you're talking about are okay with trust-establishment mindreading between the two of you I don't really consider it my business to object, but I'm not clear on what help you expect him to be."

"I don't have specifics or anything. Just that he's smarter than me and he'll pull out something I would never have thought of. If he's telling the truth about his motives, he deliberately figured out a way to become immortal some number of thousands of years ago because he thought the world had too many problems and he needed to stick around longer to fix them. He's founded half a dozen empires and tried all sorts of experiments in government and written treatises on an unbelievable number of topics. Unsurprisingly, he knows more about magic than literally anyone else alive. And he hates the gods of our world and is trying to scheme around them, so he'd be sympathetic to your situation.

"...Um, also, the way I know him is that I've had a Foresight dream for the last, er, fourteen years, in which I'm facing off his army which is about to invade our kingdom. He told me that invading is the first step in a plan to fix everything. Since then we've had some further negotiations. Still haven't sorted it out. He might be lying about his values, but he definitely isn't lying about the immortality or about his competence." 

"If you want everything thrown at your problem, I think it might be worthwhile. Oh, and his name is Leareth." 

"...I could spy on his extant written works if he's the type to take notes? Uh, but if this guy isn't necessarily trustworthy I can also just wait longer for someone else from a world with more resurrection-friendly magic to come by. I'm immortal."

"You can do that? ...Right, your maker magic just needs a label. That's an excellent idea, he's definitely the sort of person who keeps records. If you can find the right query to get his personal journals or something, that'll tell us a lot more than his historical record-keeping, which is all I've been able to track down. Um, not to mention that you might find out more things about magic in this world."

Vanyel stares into the fire and tries to think. He really, really wants Cam to agree. He...isn't sure why. He wants Cam's problem to be solved, obviously – but, as Cam just pointed out, there are other worlds, and one of them might be better suited. It doesn't matter if Vanyel, personally, is the one to help bring back a million dead people, only that it happens.

He wants to know if he can trust Leareth. 

"It would solve my biggest problem," he admits. "Knowing whether I have to fight Leareth or, I don't know, help him fix everything in my world. So I guess I have a motive here. If it helped both of us, it would be a good trade."

"You're immortal?" Lissa breaks in. "How did you get that way? How old are you?" 

"I am a hundred and seventy two and in my original world people have afterlives whereupon we're indestructible. If we did certain magic in life, which I did, we also get to be a magical creature. I personally got that way when a guy murdered me."

"That's awesome! ...I mean, sorry, not the being murdered part, that's horrible and that guy was a bastard. But being immortal and getting to be a magical creature! Can people from other worlds do the magic? Because I want in." 

"At least sometimes. I don't know if it'd get you the afterlife situation."

"Lissa," Vanyel says, "can we, maybe, figure that out later? Cam, would you need any more information to try to grab Leareth's notes?" 

"No, but I do hesitate some about digging into people's personal writing without permission. What exactly is the deal with this guy, how are you acquainted?"

"Oh. I can ask him if permission is the issue. We've been speaking – in the dreams – for fourteen years. Um, you're welcome to grab my notes on the conversations to get a summary. We've made a lot of progress in building trust, just, not enough. It's a good test, actually. If he's been telling me the truth about his goals, I think he will agree, maybe with some caveats." 

Vanyel frowns. "My only way of talking to him is through the Foresight vision, which I don't control the schedule of, but it tends to happen if I've just gotten new information and this sure is that. But I'd need to sleep out in my world for a night." 

"Which would inconvenience your sister. Uh, you are... communicating via foresight? I'm not sure I follow."

"Fair enough. It's pretty weird and I think I keep not explaining it properly." Vanyel folds his hands carefully in his lap. "I have the Gift of Foresight. Right after I got that Gift, I started having a vision of myself fighting a powerful mage and his army, in a pass in the north. Straightforward enough. Then some months in, I was, um, practicing lucid dreaming, and something really strange happened and suddenly we were both in the same lucid dream and had a conversation. Then it kept happening. I've done enough external checks that I'm pretty damn sure it's real." 

"...sounds useful but confusing. How do you check whether a dream set in the future is real?"

"Oh. I mean, I don't actually know if the events depicted in the dream are going to happen. Sort of suspect they won't, given that I've got warning and it would be stupid to go meet him at the pass without my own army. But I'm convinced that me, in the present, is talking to him, also in the present. We've exchanged verifiable information that way. Um, Foresight doesn't normally work like this and I have no idea why mine is different either." 

"...huh. Well, you can tell him my mailing label. If he writes 'letter to Cam' - uh, hm, translation effect may spoil that. If he writes me a letter and puts 'letter to Cam' on it I will use the translation effect to sort it out from anything else he's writing."

"Sure. I can do that. Wish it worked the other way round – it's very inconvenient that I can't get messages to him except via the dream. Since I don't actually know where he lives except 'very far north'." 

"I don't mind holding the door," Lissa says brightly. "As long as Bar doesn't close at night. I've got money, I don't need to keep spending yours." She looks around. "Can 'Fandes and I take turns? I mean, she doesn't have hands but she can sort of stand in it." 

"Should work. Uh, Bar takes counterfeit, so you should absolutely continue to spend my money."

"Oh. Lovely. You're wonderful, did you know that?" 

Vanyel smirks. "Lissa, you have fun – er, maybe not too much fun, I know you're on vacation but this is kind of important." He's wishing he could think of a way to say 'please behave and don't try to seduce Cam, I'm pretty sure he's not into it'. "I, um, I guess I'm going to go get some sleep now. I'll see you in the morning." 

And he pauses to stroke Yfandes' mane, and then slips out through the door. 

"- there are hotel rooms upstairs if you want to try for useful time dilation!" Cam calls. "Though I'm not sure how horse-compatible the design is."

"Oh, hmm, I was worried the dream won't actually happen if I'm in here and not actually in my world, but I guess my other magic does work here – at least, I've tested mage-gift, and I can Mindspeak with 'Fandes."

Vanyel closes his eyes and focuses. "Farsight works, I can See the infirmary. Just a moment..." He Fetches his note-paper to his hand. "Check. I don't know if Foresight is different, though, or if I might get the dream but have Leareth shut out of it if we're in different worlds. But...maybe worth trying, for the time dilation part. What's your experience of different kinds of magic from other worlds working in here versus not?" 

"Uh, I can make stuff fine, I don't have much else to try. The healer's magic works. So does the Security guy."

"What sort of magic does the security guy have?" 

"It's very high powered and generic but only works in his world and here."

That's a bit vague but Vanyel lets it be. "All right. Hmm. If, er, he were standing right where I am, with the door open to his world, could he cast with his magic through the door. Or, maybe better question – if he was outside and had a friend inside holding the door, could he cast and affect this area?" 

"I didn't ask that, but I can while you nap if you like."

"...Might as well try it, then. Worst case I get a nap and the dream doesn't work and then we learn something. It's fine if 'Fandes needs to stay down here." 

(It's, perhaps, preferable if Yfandes stays downstairs. She's been doing the silent-and-cagey thing in response to all of his Mindspeech asides.) 

"Bet Bar can feed horses too."

Yfandes would like that! Even if she is kind of uncomfortable with the existence of a bar that communicates by napkin. Or a room outside time. Or a stranger with bizarre otherworldly magic using it to enable her Chosen to almost kill himself on purpose, 'safely' or otherwise. 

Vanyel shields her out, and disappears upstairs. 

Bar demonstrates her ability to feed horses.

Lissa sits down with her back against the door, legs crossed and feet propped up on the opposite side of threshold. She sips her drink. "Say, Cam, what happened to the dead people you want to resurrect?" 

"It's a long story. Uh, in brief, collateral damage in a very bad war. I destroyed their planet."

“Oh. Um, do wars where you’re from usually result in planets being destroyed? I guess my company sure did burn a lot of farms in the war with Karse. Never realized how many civilians starved thanks to us until my brother won the war for us - speaking of collateral damage, that. And they sent me over to be our Guard liaison with the new queen of Karse.” She makes a sympathetic face at him. “Did you win?”

"It's not usual.

We won."

“...You seem kind of upset about that.”

"...I murdered fifty-five million noncombatants. I've been putting them back, the ones I can put back, nonstop for months till I found this place, dozens every minute, and I'm only half done. Their planet had some irreplaceable magical properties, and all the vertebrate animals that don't lay eggs are gone because I can't make those right, and the property that lets me resurrect most of the casualties doesn't finish growing in till partway through pregnancy so I'm bringing back expecting parents without their babies. A million inhabitants of the world aren't the right species to bring back till I find a fix for that in here. It's not really the most important feature of the situation that I am upset but, yeah, I'm upset."

Lissa chews her lip for a while. 

"I feel like I'm supposed to say something consoling," she says finally. "But I'm no good at that. I don't know – that's terrible? That's too many dead people? No goddamned wonder you're upset. I'd be extremely concerned about being in the same enclosed space as you if you weren't." 

She falls silent, staring out at the courtyard. It's nearly sunset. 

"Was it worth it?" she says finally. 

"Think so."

"Mmm." 

Eventually, Yfandes finishes her meal and meanders over, nudging at Lissa's shoulder with her muzzle. 

"Oh, it's your turn. Thanks." Lissa absently pats her on the neck and stands. "Cam, I'm getting another drink, want anything? Also, would you like a hug? I don't know if you do hugs."

"...I sometimes do hugs?"

"Oh, you're like my brother. Well, it's fine if you don't want a hug from me in particular, I won't be offended." Lissa puts down a handful of coppers on the bar. "Bar, surprise me again with something else?" 

This surprise is cinnamony and white.

Lissa makes a suspicious face. "Is this even alcoholic? I mean, no offense, it's very delicious–"

It isn't. If you'd prefer it spiked I can do that, at least until such time as it seems necessary to cut you off.

"Listen, I just found out about fifty-five million people getting their planet exploded under them. Right after my brother stole my vacation like he always does. I want something that'll get me drunk." Cut off, she mouths at Cam, rolling her eyes. 

Once Bar fixes her drink, maybe she'll go curl up by the fireplace until Yfandes needs a break at the door. 

Cam finds a seat at a booth with a view of the explosions but winds up sitting on the table so he has the range of motion necessary to play violin.

Outside, night falls.

Shortly afterward, Vanyel wanders back down into the bar area, stretching and looking very well-rested. He hunts around for the source of the music, sees Cam, and hovers awkwardly until the end of the song.

“You’re very good,” he says. “What instrument is that? I’ve never seen one like it.”

"It's called a violin."

Vanyel wants to ask if he can try the instrument, and where Cam learned the song, and about a hundred questions about music in other worlds, but it really isn’t the top priority right now.

“Good news,” he says tightly. “Talked to him. Wait, is it still dark? Thought it’d be morning by now.” He hesitates for about half a second. “I’m going to get coffee anyway and then I’ll fill you in. Um, first thing: I told Leareth your ‘mailing address’ and he said he’d think about it. So you could check and see if he’s had the chance yet.”

Cam checks his mail. "I don't think you should be trying to stay on your usual daycycle in here if you might be here long."

There is not (yet) anything in Cam's mail. 

"Noted," Vanyel says. "Figure we have to keep the door open, then, give Leareth a chance to wake up in the morning and decide if he wants to write you anything."

He wanders over to the bar. 

 Lissa beats him there, requests 'another of the delicious one, spiked', and in response to his raised eyebrows, sticks out her tongue. "Look, it might be morning for you, but I haven't gone to bed yet." 

Bar obliges her.

Vanyel obtains a mocha, carries it across to Cam's booth, and sits. "Right. So, what we talked about. Leareth is – first off, I'm not at all sure he believes me. He mentioned wondering if I've gone insane, or if this is some kind of bizarre scheme against him. However. He's interested in learning more. He said that if I am telling the truth, and you're telling the truth – which, er, he expressed that he might want to verify in more depth before taking costly action based on your claims – then it's very relevant to his interests, and he...would offer his help in exchange for your advice? Didn't say advice on what, and I'm confused because, I mean, you are very competent at a surprising number of things but I don't think anything I said hinted that you were good at empire-building."

Vanyel sips the mocha and takes out his notes. "Next. Leareth said that in exchange for what he's going to write you at some point – if he decides to go ahead, he wasn't sure yet, but I'm almost certain he will – and then assuming that you want to proceed in getting his help, he would like every treatise you have access to on both magical and mundane natural laws of the world in question. Which he pointed out that he can't use against us, since if I'm telling the truth, we can arbitrarily pause time on him if he tries. A next step would be for us to arrange to speak to one of the other gods, obtain more firsthand observations on the deaths. At some point he'd be willing to figure out something to demonstrate trust, but he wants to think more about the details of how." 

Notes are flipped through. 

"Leareth told me he can't make sense of how any purely physical manipulation could permanently destroy a god which is a non-material ambient magical force over an area, though he admits other worlds could be different. Oh, and he has theorized about something similar to what you described, the 'black hole', I guess it's one of the treatises he never published and is in some cave somewhere." Pause. "Um. So. Questions?" 

"...we can't permanently pause him unless you never go home. It buys you a lot of prep time but you have to spend it all here. Uh, the books won't be in a language he can read, does your world have magic translation? It'll take ten days minimum to get ahold of a Maia and that's if a cooperative one turns up immediately on request, my door is on New Valinor and the surviving Maiar are on Endorë."

Vanyel presses his hands to his temples and tries to think. 

"You're right, the pausing-time thing has its limitations as a countermove. I didn't actually describe your powers to him, though, I let it seem like you used an artifact or force from that world, so that's something he wouldn't see coming. Er, for translation, I'm not sure how you're planning to read his writing, but he said you presumably had a setup to translate, and if you could give him a basic dictionary once you translate his work, he's got several millennia of practice with languages and he thinks he can figure it out. Maybe he does have magic translation, I don't know of any but wouldn't put it past him." 

He sighs. "Ten days. Not cheap to obtain. Probably want to at least be sure that he's definitely on our side, first. So I guess wait for, um, morning-out-there?" 

"I'm going to read his writing by being in Milliways while I do it. This won't really give me a leg up on helping him read Arda languages, though I could make it work with some elaborate technology."

“This place has built in translation magic? On top of everything else?” That is almost absurdly useful. “Would it work for me as well?”

"You can understand me, can't you?"

...That is, in hindsight, kind of obvious.

”Does that mean I could read the um, Arda books here?” Vanyel offers. “If I take notes those would presumably be in Valdemaran. Which Leareth speaks. That gives us a chance to vet what we’re passing along.” And an excuse to read about what sounds like a deeply fascinating topic. “Er, what’s the elaborate technology option?”

"I can make machines that can analyze the complete written corpus of a language - which I can also make - and figure out how to translate it. Not especially well, but the ability to spot check its work would help, and the Milliways effect would let me do that. In addition to letting you read books from anywhere."

"Oh, interesting. Is it very inconvenient to do that?" It sounds incredibly useful and Vanyel is also itching to know what kind of 'machine' can do this. "Oh, and I forgot, but you said Bar is also a library? Can I ask for books based on topic or do I need to know the specific title?" 

"It's not especially. She can do recommendations, getting books from me you need to know what you want. Or I do."

"Well, if you don't mind using the elaborate technology and it's not a lot of hassle, um, that seems really valuable and I would appreciate it a lot. Um, I think I want to read a bit about these Maiar and about Endorë. And Valinor, is that the planet that was destroyed?"

Vanyel means to go on with further sensible, plan-related requests, but his mouth doesn't cooperate. "Also that song. Where did you learn it? It's beautiful." And so fascinatingly different. He's never actually formed the thought before that music in his world gets kind of samey, but in comparison to this...

"Valinor's the destroyed one, yeah. Song's the not very inventively titled eighth sonata by Beethoven, I... conjured the sheet music and learned from that, didn't really pick it up in a specific place."

"...You can do that? Never mind, of course you can. Written music? I don't know that I can read it but I'm so tempted to ask you for all of your favorite songs – I guess I don't actually have my lute here and I don't know that it can play that song anyway..." Vanyel shakes his head. "Not actually the priority. I'll go ask Bar for recommendations on background reading." 

Lissa yawns. "Van, if you don't mind trading off with 'Fandes on the door, I'm going to go get some sleep." 

"...do... you want a lute?" Cam asks Vanyel.

"...I mean, if you don't mind, yes? I'm still getting used to knowing someone who can just make things like that. I don't know if 'Vanyel's lute' is specific enough that you can make mine in particular, but just any lute would be fine too." They're outside of time and maybe it's justifiable to take a few breaks once in a while and play. Vanyel is awfully tempted to ask Cam about all the other instruments from other worlds that he surely knows of, but that feels less justifiable. 

Vanyel's lute appears to be conjurable because here it is.

Vanyel is so delighted! "Thank you, that's wonderful." And now he's going to go over to Bar and ask for books about the Maiar and the history of Valinor and Endorë, and he'll have something to do when he next needs to take a break. 

Except that Yfandes has other ideas. 

:Chosen, are you sure about this?: She's trying to be gentle, but underneath he can tell that she's upset. 

:About what?: 

:The part where we're asking Leareth of all people for help. We can't trust him. You know that. I have a bad feeling about this: Unease, vague discomfort. :And messing with the gods of other worlds. I know you want to help, but you heard him – if he waits here, someone's bound to turn up eventually and their world's magic might have a better solution. We don't even know that Leareth CAN help, assuming he wants to. Don't you think Valdemar should be our first priority?: 

...If Cam is paying attention, he might notice that Vanyel has been paused halfway to the bar for a while, staring vaguely in the direction of the window-explosions. 

"...Vanyel? Are you okay?"

“Hmm?” Vanyel blinks at Cam. “Sorry, what? Oh. I’m fine.” :’Fandes, please. Let me be. We’re on vacation, remember?: He leaves the second half unsaid - that Valdemar doesn’t, particularly, want their help right now.

And he’s going to go back to his actual plan of learning important background on Cam’s problem via asking Bar for reading material.

What sort of books would you prefer?

"...Historical books? Um, maybe aimed at someone who doesn't have much context, so, introductory. Other than that I don't really know what different kinds of books would be available." 

He can get A History of the Eldar by a Rúmil, describing the awakening of a bunch of Elves near a lake as fully grown adults and their development of Endorë civilization, the terrorization under Melkor, the Valar's quelling thereof, and the transit of some Elves to Valinor.

Vanyel finds a booth, sits down, and reads through most of it, only stopping to ask Bar for another mocha; he has a tendency to get very absorbed in books. Outside, the moon rises. Yfandes leaves him alone, until eventually she politely asks for a break, and Vanyel sits with his back against the door and keeps reading.

Vanyel surfaces when he runs out of both book, and paper to keep notes. He politely asks Cam for a folio or something to keep his notes, but maybe he'll take a break for a little while to play the lute (not one of the godawful songs written about him during the war). 

Cam can give him a notebook.

Vanyel can play his duplicate-lute for a while until the sun rises. "Cam? Were you going to check your mail again? Leareth might've answered by now." 

"Sure." Check.

Cam will find the following message. 

Letter to Cam
I would not normally be so forthright with a stranger whom I have little reason to trust. However, Herald Vanyel is well known to me, and if he is telling the truth rather than mad, then I definitely wish to know more, and I very likely will wish to aid you in your difficulties. Your specified method of communication is one that, according to my understanding of the world, most definitely should not work; if it does, my understanding of reality is fundamentally wrong, and ‘there are other worlds’ is among the simpler explanations. It is not full confirmation that Vanyel is being honest or that his understanding of the situation is correct rather than misled, so I do intend to take precautions and will not yet share everything. (Although, of course, if your abilities are what I think they are and you are not friendly to my goals, I suspect you can learn it anyway.) 

As I am sure Vanyel will have said, it is not clear from your perspective that you ought to trust me either. This is reasonable and I will have to earn that trust. To give some background from my side of things: many centuries ago, in a kingdom that does not exist anymore, I decided that a number of problems were unacceptable. (An incomplete list: extreme social inequality and an entrenched nobility, the near-complete lack of an education system, high levels of infant mortality and death from illness due to a severe lack of trained Healers or skilled un-Gifted medics, minimal state policing of roads leading to excessive robbery and crime rings.) I became an advisor to the King, and made some headway on addressing these issues, and then events intervened and I did not succeed in my goal. Fortunately, I had already laid plans for immortality, since it was immediately obvious that one lifetime would never be enough and, given the history I saw behind me, I did not trust that anybody else would continue this work. It is a frustrating task in a world of meddling gods that, at this point, clearly do not wish for any mortal to succeed in changing the status quo. I sympathize with your situation, facing gods who sound significantly worse.

Also, you are someone who has fought a god and won, albeit at an agonizing cost. Given the analogs to my situation here in Velgarth, I would also appreciate your advice. 

If your method for receiving this message works as I theorize it must, then the following list of further resources ought to be easily obtainable. Vanyel has already worked to verify many of my factual claims. 

Yours sincerely,

Leareth

...

And then Leareth gives a list of books on various subjects, which he states are mostly written by him under other names, such as his work designing education systems, a history of the Eastern Empire, and further treatises on said Empire's supply chain logistics, economic policies, and examination-based selection of government workers, as well as his theories regarding his world's laws and behavior of magic. 

He also provides a map and specifies a location where Cam can leave a return letter. Vanyel can confirm that said place is just outside the Valdemaran border, but less than fifty miles away to the northwest. 

"He gave me a heck of a reading list."

Vanyel can’t help but smirk slightly. “He’s got a habit of that - and it’s a lot harder for me to hunt down his rare old book recommendations. Anyway, I’ve read most of those, if you trust my summary. Not recently though.”

"Maybe you can give me an idea of what order to read in, and I can catch up on all this with the door closed so I look very fast."

"Hmm. In terms of guessing whether our world has magic that can help you, obviously his treatise on magical theory – which I haven't read and I'm very curious if he's told me everything in it or held some back. If you want to get a sense of how he thinks, maybe the one on education? Or skim the early Eastern Empire history. He founded it, so a lot of the early decisions were ones he made or influenced, but he moved on to other things and its current state is less relevant. The rest are more specific so I'd save them for a deeper dive if you think that's worthwhile."

Vanyel grins briefly. "And, yes, it'll impress him to no end if you seem to read all of this in an hour. Though I don't put it past him to somehow guess about the time-pausing effect soon." 

"How is he expecting me to put something in this place? I can't see it. I can aim for it blind but I won't be able to hit a very precise spot."

Vanyel shrugs. "I don't know that he expects it to be convenient for you. We kind of wrecked one of his main courier systems within Valdemar a while back, so it may just be the most feasible for him. Or could be he's guessing at what your magic does and trying to test it. Anyway, I can ride there in, um, not no time but much faster than you'd expect, Companions aren't normal horses. Oh, and actually I've been to that border town – I can just Gate." 

And then he makes a face that he quickly tries to hide. "I wouldn't say I'm fond of Gating, but it's not far." 

"I could send a drone and use it to aim, I just wasn't expecting him to know that."

"...I can't imagine he's guessed that specifically, no, but I imagine he's wondering if magic that can pluck a letter from one place to another given just the first line and sender – which is really all I implied about yours – can also put it in an arbitrary location, and whether it comes with Sight to aim, and I'm not worried about an ambush but I do wonder if he'll have a spell set up to see if actually I just show up on 'Fandes." And infer what he infers from that, probably holding some skepticism that they're concealing Cam's full power. 

He's starting to relax, now that it sounds like he might be able to avoid Gating. "If what you need is something to aim for, I can find it with Farsight and then scry it for you – er, I could share the Foresight directly, I'm a strong enough Mindspeaker, but that involves some unavoidable level of mindreading even if I'm very careful not to actually look at your thoughts. Um, that's assuming you do want to let Leareth make guesses about how powerful you are, beyond the access to other worlds part." 

"I don't know if the scrying trick would work. Cameras don't - those are devices that can show a picture of a location in another location in real time."

Vanyel nods. "How do these 'drones' work, then, and why is that different? Would it be like, I don't know, sending a trained falcon and scrying from a focus around its neck the whole route, so you've seen all of it?" 

"So there's two ways I could do it with a drone - I could send the drone already carrying the letter, like a carrier pigeon, and have it drop it off, using a camera to steer. No making anything at a distance. Or I could have the drone fly there, steering to the right place with a camera, and then tell me exactly in what direction and precise distance it is relative to me - or, rather, my computer - and I can use that. But without a visual or proprioceptive direct lock on the place, or a really exact figure like 'fifty miles thirty-seven feet six inches, and another ten feet up in elevation' - I can't be sure I won't land the letter in a mountain, or worse in the middle of somebody waiting for it."

...That's a gruesome mental image. It does give him another idea, though. 

"I can combine Farsight and Fetching," he says. "Since I'm doing both. Farseeing from a map starts with something like aiming blindly down a bearing, and then once I've found the place, it gives me something like what I think you mean by 'proprioceptive direct lock'. On the one hand I don't have the strongest Fetching Gift and I've never tried fifty miles, but on the other, a letter doesn't weigh much. I'll be exhausted after but if I rest with the door shut and it won't matter."

He shrugs. "Your method would work as well, either way, if you're fine with him making some wild guesses about how your magic works based on it. Probably wrong guesses, since this is a machine and not a magical artifact, but still." He really needs to ask Bar for recommendations of books about computers sometime. 

"Making a drone has the advantage of being non-exhausting. Is it bad if he figures out how I work?"

"...Let me think about that." Vanyel closes his eyes, bringing his hands to both temples. "It's...not bad if he decides to help you. Which I think is, ummm, at least eight in ten odds? Maybe nine in ten?" He shrugs. "It only matters in cases where he decides to cause problems for you, specifically, instead. Which would be hard to pull off. If his goals aren't what he claims, he can definitely make my life a nightmare, but all you have to do is kick me out and close the door, and he can't get at you even in principle. Not to mention, I'm pretty sure your power has him outclassed no matter how much he knows about it. I'm in the habit of not revealing anything to him without a good reason, but that's mainly because I'm in a relatively vulnerable position." 

He frowns. "In case I'm missing some obvious vulnerability that he'll see and exploit because he's smarter than I am."

:'Fandes?: He's not sure he actually wants her advice, she's been strange and prickly about all of this, but he can feel her simmering unease even through his shields and he really ought to ask. 

She doesn't answer at first. 

:Leareth as good as told us he intends to fight the gods: she sends finally, mindvoice tense. :Doesn't actually matter what for – I'm not sure we should be giving him any more weapons for that: 

It's the same stupid argument they've been having for two years, and if he spends much longer at it, Cam is going to notice him staring into space again. :'Fandes, you know how I feel about it. It's really up to Cam, if he wants to help. I just want Cam to be able to bring back his dead people – is that really too much to ask?:

:He destroyed a planet and all the living things on it: Acid in her mindvoice. :Chosen, I know how you feel – it's done, he had a good reason, worth it, and now that's the world we're in and it's better if the million dead people can get resurrected. But, just... I don't know how to feel about helping him: 

...Is that what she's been upset about this entire time? It's not the ideal response, but Vanyel doesn't know what to say or do about it, so he blocks her, and returns his eyes to Cam, trying to look attentive. "Um, any thoughts?" 

"In my original world billions of people have known about daeva for more than a hundred years and have given some thought to what to do about how powerful we are. There are ways to inconvenience us but that boils down to not letting him see a summoning circle, and even if he did, there'd be more steps to inconvenience me personally about it."

"Huh. Then I guess you don't need to worry and the drone plan seems best. Honestly, I'm used to being the single most powerful person on this planet aside from him and still needing to worry, but you're in another league." 

(Vanyel wonders whether a Valdemaran god could inconvenience Cam, remembers what happened to the last god that was doing something he disliked, and quickly tightens his shields just in case Yfandes is listening, hoping that Cam doesn't notice his sudden wince.) 

If he sees it he does't comment on it.

"Well, do you want to read everything with the door closed first before sending a message? I was meaning to ask if there's anything I should read for more detail on the war and stuff. Since, um, I assume you'd rather not talk about it in a lot of depth, and also it'd save time if we can both be reading." 

"Go ahead and let the door close. Has the advantage of letting more people come in, maybe ones who can help either or both of us.

"I'm not sure what if anything has written up in the last few months. Bar might know. But it wouldn't surprise me if there were nothing, Elves are very - patient, meticulous, probably take more than a year or two to write a book."

This is the moment that Lissa chooses to come in, stretching and yawning. 

"Morning, everyone." She glances at the closed door, then shrugs and ignores it. "Cam, what's it like to have wings, anyway?" 

"Well, I like it, or I'd take them off. I could give you a set but humans find flying very tiring and can't heal trivially if they change their minds."

Lisa’s face goes through a number of fascinating expressions before she settles on a grin. “I’ll tell you if I want to risk it, then. Flying sounds amazing even if it’s tiring.”

She beams at Cam for a moment before heading for her brother. “Van, hey, come here.” Against his muttered protests, she drags him to a booth, which isn’t quite sound-isolated from where Cam is.

“You seem less miserable here,” she stage-whispers in his ear. “Anything to do with the incredible handsome winged person? I can’t seem to get his attention, maybe you’re more his type.” 

Vanyel makes a face at her. “Liss, please, can you not?”

Cam puts on some music rather loudly and starts plowing through his reading list.

Vanyel is peeved with Lissa, because he in fact wasn’t miserable and now he sort of is, not to mention embarrassed because he’s pretty sure Cam overheard, and honestly she should really have learned tact by now but he’s pretty sure she never will.

”I have reading to do,” he says sharply, yanking his arm out of her grip. “Go find some other way to amuse yourself.” 

He goes over to Bar and asks for books about the recent war in the Elves’ world, and, failing that, more specific background on the various gods involved.

Not so much with the recent war books. Bar can do newspapers? Would he like recent newspapers?

“Um, sure, whatever you’ve got.” Pause. Blink. “...What’s a newspaper?”

A publication issued on a frequent basis to keep recipients up to date with current events.

"Oh! Like a proclamation but written? What a good idea." It sounds way better than yelling in Mindspeech followed by passing on news to a town crier. Although it would take an army of scribes, or almost as many clerks to keep up with one of the printing devices he's heard of from the Eastern Empire– no, of course not, makers like Cam could just make a thousand of them, and there must be plenty of other methods in other worlds.

He has lots of time to read. "I'd like all of the ones since the war ended, please – um, and also any from during the war, if they were still publishing it then." 

That quantity of newspapers will not fit on me. Would you like my recommendation of the highlights of a single city's paper?

"Oh. Um, sure." On reflection it also makes sense that a world not reliant on an army of scribes could produce more written content than he's used to ever seeing in one place outside of the Palace library.

Here is a pile of newspapers from Brithombar in chronological order.

Vanyel carts the newspapers over to one of the booths, and goes back to ask Bar for a drink that isn't coffee – it's tempting, but he isn't sure how long he's been awake now given the confusingness of time here, and presumably he wants to sleep at some point. 

Bar provides him with a mango smoothie.

The newspapers describe the return of Melkor; the sudden anger of the orc nations at atrocities that never happened; the capture of anyone caught alive on the battlefield; the mustering of troops, the development of warplanes and tanks and weaponry. Rationing, air raid protocols, maps of more and more lost territory, reminders not to hold onto dead loved ones' chips because these too can be captured. President Círdan is reelected with 98% of the vote.

Noldor from Valinor arrive to help with high technology and mysteriously rapid production capacity - they have visited Brithombar, a winged stranger has been seen walking the streets handing out chocolate. Certain rations are increased due to foreign aid. There's a Noldo singer in town, he's very good.

Cities continue to fall, and the ways they die change faster and faster.

The war is over. The Maiar are inconsolable. The winged stranger, Cam, is responsible, in a deal with the Enemy - Valinor is gone, the Valar are gone, the Doriath forcefield is down -

- the orcs are suing for peace, they propose prewar borders, it is safe to go abroad again.

And on Cam's reading list: 

The Eastern Empire was founded more than sixteen hundred years earlier by the calendar of Vanyel’s world, in the chaos following the “Cataclysm” (which the book takes for granted and does not describe), by a band of soldiers and mercenaries stranded after a frantic evacuation.

One of the founders, though not the first Emperor, was a man called Arved. He was a mage, and a military commander who led much of the initial unification, and he was a scholar. His writings, while never included in the Imperial Law charter, doubtlessly influenced the early direction, and some of the surviving passages are included in the historian’s account.

Arved writes about the importance of re-discovering magical knowledge, training mages, and using that to address the problems of his time. There are an awful lot of problems. Constant famines due to the chaotic post-Storms weather and warped plant life. Long-distance trade is impossible, not just thanks to the frequent attacks by Changecreatures, or because the roads are crawling with bandit groups, but because no one knows who to trade with – mostly there’s no unit of leadership larger than a single family’s landholding. No Healers – well, presumably there are still children born with the Gift, but no one to recognize or train it. Up and down the coast, people are starving, sick, and dying, and they lack the resources or coordination to do anything about it.

But magic is working again now. Weather magic is a known technique; they’re just not organized enough to put trained mages where they’re needed. Transport of food and other goods was a solved problem before the Mage Wars, with the use of permanent Gates – they don’t have any permanent Gates, but they have mages who fought in Urtho’s army; they can piece together the technique, if they hurry. Mages can lay protective wards on roads, alarms for caravans to trip if under attack. They can communicate long-distance via a certain spell, and hold together an organized state. (But not a kingdom. Arved, at this point, is adamantly against hereditary monarchies, and aristocracies more generally.)

Some of Arved’s writing touches on the longer term. Once they have some kind of basic stable government over a region, they can build schools and academies. Some mages can focus all of their time on researching new techniques, to solve the next round of pressing problems. But not just mages, and not just the nobility – everyone can be educated. They can build on that; more trade and enterprise, skilled crafts guilds. They’ll want to grow, but in an ideal world they won’t have to conquer, because their neighbours will want to join.

Someday, generations in the future, survival will be secure, and they can have more than that. Arts, music, theatre, games: a world where people can flourish, not just avoid starving. It’s going to take centuries, but someday they can run an empire that’s better to live in than any from before the Cataclysm.

(According to a brief note in Leareth’s message, Arved was one of Leareth’s past lives.)

"Vanyel? This book isn't explaining what exactly the Cataclysm was, or the Mage Wars, can I have a one paragraph version?"

Vanyel is delighted to have an excuse to put down the extremely depressing newspaper reading. 

"I, um, we don't actually know a lot about it, cataclysms that nearly destroy the world have a tendency to destroy records as well. There was a war, presumably between very powerful mages, some horrific magical weapons were involved, it really, really messed things up. It was...we think about eighteen hundred years ago, and there are regions to the west of here, the Pelagirs, that are still uninhabitable. Lots of weirdly Changed plants and animals that try to eat you, enough ambient magic to change you if you wander around unshielded. The Tayledras – uh, friends of mine, live in clans in the northwest wilderness – have a pact with their Goddess to clean up the land, they've been working on it for millennia, all of Valdemar used to be Pelagirs. Whatever happened, it was bad." 

He frowns. "Sorry, I mostly know about the aftereffects, not the war itself. Leareth must know more, I'm pretty sure he's been around since beforehand. And the Empire might have more in their lore. Bet the Shin'a'in do as well – they're a sister tribe to the Tayledras, they...have a pact to guard the Plains, south of here, I don't know why but they don't let anyone in. I guess you can't find a book unless you know the title and author, though, you can't just vacuum up everything the Shin'a'in have written down?" 

"Depends on whether 'Shin'a'in' is a conjurable parameter. If it's all in a particular language it would be. What do you mean about the pacts?"

"Um, so, there's a goddess called the Star-Eyed – gods here tend to have territories and particular groups of people they, er, have influence over, and I guess She was the goddess of the Kaled'a'in people, who were around before the Mage Wars and are the predecessors of the Shin'a'in and Tayledras but that's all I know." He pauses. "Oh, by the way, Leareth's name is a Kaled'a'in word. It means 'darkness' in modern Tayledras, but in ancient Kaled'a'in it meant the night sky." 

And where was he going... "Right, so I don't know the details, but their tribes got flattened by the Cataclysm, and they prayed to Her, and She made some sort of magically binding contract with them and their descendants forever, in exchange for giving them some useful magic and maybe doing other stuff that helped them survive at the time. The Tayledras are magically bound to the land that She wants them to cleanse. I don't know how it works and I don't actually know what happens if they try to break it. They never seem to want to." 

Vanyel rubs his eyes. It must be getting late according to whatever time his body thinks it is. "Um, and Shin'a'in is a language as well as the name of their people, so if you can grab everything in their language, that would get it." He frowns. "...Ancient Kaled'a'in is also a language, so if any records did survive and we just don't know where they are because they're buried under collapsed cities or something, I assume you could get them anyway?" 

"I can, yeah, we're archaeologically useful. I can also get the ones that were in fact destroyed."

"That's pretty absurdly useful, yeah." Cam could take over Vanyel's entire world in about a week if he decided to try. Vanyel decides not to say that part out loud. He stifles a yawn. "Anyway, do you have more questions about the book? I can answer them, but I think I'll go get some sleep after."

"Go ahead and get sleep, I'm taking notes as I go and can write down any questions for later."

Lissa, who's been doing stretches and exercises in the corner, watches her brother go upstairs, and then wanders over. "I'm ridiculously bored. Anything I can help with? I can ask Bar for entertainment if it'd be more annoying than it's worth giving me something to do, but I'd rather be useful." 

"...uh, sure. I'm gonna give you a guide to creating realistic imaginary cultures and you can fill it out for where you live to give me an at a glance summary of stuff it'd be easy to forget to mention." He hands her a packet and a pen.

"Sure!" This is a lot less boring than she was expecting. (Lissa is not, generally speaking, a reader of dense books.) 

And in Cam's reading:

The early years of the Empire don’t exactly go smoothly. (Relatedly, the records are sketchy, and the historian’s account is guessing at the gaps).

About two decades into the project, they’ve built a capital city, and wrestled back control of several hundred miles to the south and west. Trade exists. Mages are being trained. There aren’t nearly enough of them, so there are financial incentives for the existing mages to pair up and have children.

This is the point at which the Emperor and most of his advisors, Arved among them, perish in a (somewhat surprisingly) successful assassination attempt by a priest-mage of an obscure religious sect.

There follows a messy succession crisis. After ten years of various coups and counter-coups, during which much of the progress made falls apart, the second Emperor takes the Iron Throne. He sets out the official Imperial Law code, which is heavily based around the theory that financial deterrence is more effective than physical punishment. For example, the punishment for rape, first offence:


The victim would be granted immediate status as a divorced spouse. Half of the perpetrator's possessions went to the victim, half of the perpetrator's wages went to the victim for a term of five years if there was no child, or sixteen if a child resulted. If the child was a daughter, she received a full daughter's dowry out of whatever the perpetrator had managed to accumulate, and if the child was a son, the perpetrator paid for his full outfitting when he was conscripted.

The second Emperor faces a number of problems, somewhat different from those of his predecessor. One of them is that, during the disastrous intervening years, many mages got into the habit of using blood-magic. It’s understandable – magic is working normally again, but the ambient sources of it, ley-lines and nodes, are still replenishing. Given the state of the land, it’s impossible to feed the population without Gating supplies around, and a mage needs power to Gate. Not to mention all the very important and half-complete infrastructure projects that could be done if the mage-energy was available…

However, blood-power has various negative effects: on the land, on its user, and, of course, on the unfortunate peasant or convict murdered for it. It would be preferable, if they need to resort to it at all, to at least do so efficiently. The second Emperor responds by formally legalizing blood-magic, and then tightly regulating it: only Adepts with specific training are permitted, in approved circumstances, they check the land for traces of it and anyone caught using it unapproved will be executed.

The second Emperor rules with a much tighter fist than the first, and manages to stay in power for almost forty years. Twenty years in, after several incidents, he legalizes the use of compulsion-spells for all government workers, along with the sworn oath of office, to prevent assassination plots from within. Thirty years, half a dozen more increasingly ludicrous attempts on his life, and he cracks down on religious groups and introduces a state religion of ancestor worship. He also studies life extension magics. Before having the chance to personally use them, he dies in a mildly implausible spell-research accident; assassination is suspected but never confirmed. The Empire passes peacefully to his next-in-line.

The third Emperor, trained in the same spells, lives to age 140, ruling for 90 of those, alongside several different surprisingly talented scholar-advisors (the first dies when an extremely well-engineered bridge collapses on him; the second is inexplicably murdered by a Shin'a'in Swordsworn wandering absurdly far from home). The Empire at this point is at peace, generally well-run, and one of the most authoritarian governments in the known world. 

"Not paranoia if they're really out to get you," Cam mutters.

Vanyel is busy completely failing to sleep. He doesn't really have an excuse (although possibly the coffee isn't helping); he's suitably exhausted, and managed to fall asleep quickly at first, but...the usual nightmares, and now his idiotic brain deciding to chew on what the Karsite newspapers would've said during the war if Karse had newspapers. (Nasty things about him in particular, he's pretty sure.) He could talk to Yfandes but he's sort of still mad at her for questioning whether they ought to help Cam in the first place. 

"Fine," he mutters to himself eventually, "this is dumb." He reluctantly drags himself out of the very comfortable bed, and sheepishly creeps back into the main bar area. "Er, Cam? Sorry to bother you, it's just – I can't sleep, this happens sometimes, I have herbs I take for it but I don't have them here and I don't really want to open the door to get them. Would you mind making them for me, um, if that's specific enough for it to work?" 

"Uh, it isn't - I could do 'whatever's on your nightstand' or equivalent if you want? Or you could ask Bar to prescribe something."

Vanyel stares into space for a while, trying to remember if it's on his nightstand or in his packs or, worst of all, somewhere random on the floor. (He is not a fan of travel.) 

"Um, maybe grab my travel bag if that works?" He's going to want other things in it anyway, and if they're not there he can ask Bar. Possibly he should ask Bar anyway, if she can produce stuff from other worlds then she might have something that works better. 

Bag!

"Thank you!" Vanyel digs around, and the herbs are there, but he'll ask Bar anyway because why not, now he has all the unspent Herald-stipend bags that he shoved into his luggage. 

Bar recommends this hot vanilla flavored beverage for his purposes!

Vanyel drinks it, and considers the merits of going upstairs again versus curling up on one of the couches by the fire. Upside: proximity to people, his sister in particular, and Yfandes even though he's sort of ignoring her. Downside: it's not out of the question that he could end up projecting a nightmare at everyone. 

People wins out, and he checks his shields very carefully and then smushes himself up on the couch. 

The packet asks Lissa a lot of questions that either don’t make sense at all, or where she doesn’t know what all of the words mean, but she can give it a go.

She isn’t sure how ethnic diversity compares to the ‘real world’, but Karsites are clearly a different stock from most Valdemarans. She’s never actually met one of the Tayledras but presumably they’re different again, and there are all sorts of other countries to the south.

She doesn’t know how long people have been in the world, or how they came to be there, but she doesn’t think they came from a different world.

There are about half a million people in Valdemar. She guesses the total population on the continent is around ten million, maybe as much as twenty, but there isn’t an official number. Haven, the capital of Valdemar, has somewhere in the vicinity of fifty thousand inhabitants if you could the settlements outside the current walls; it’s a very big city. Forst Reach Village has a thousand and is considered quite a substantial town.

There are nonhuman intelligent species! Lissa isn’t sure she knows all of them but she provides an incomplete list. Hertasi are lizards, she’s never met one but apparently they’re really, really absurdly helpful, Van said a mage from before the Cataclysm designed them to be that way. There are Companions, obviously. There are the Tayledras bondbirds Van talks about, Lissa knows that they’re cleverer than normal birds and can talk (in Mindspeech) but aren’t as clever as people. There are Suncats, which are like Companions except in Karse, as emissaries of their god Vkandis Sunlord. Legends talk about gryphons but she isn’t sure if they’re real.

...Aaaaand now she's bored and she's going to go get another drink, surely she's been awake for enough candlemarks to make that reasonable. 

Bar will give her what she seeks.

And in Cam's book: 

The next two hundred years of the Empire's history pass in fits and starts. The third Emperor rules for seventy years – life extension magic is useful for that – and expands the Empire's territory significantly. At this point they aren't exactly conquering; they're still ahead of the curve in terms of rebuilding civilization, and are absorbing land that no one in particular is ruling. Magic continues to stabilize in the aftermath of the Cataclysm. Techniques are invented to clear out some of the magical fallout – they aren't as effective as the rumoured work of the new Tayledras people further west, but they'll do. Permanent Gates are built. Crop yields improve. Trade blossoms. There isn't much of an Empire-wide education system yet, but the capital, Jacona, now has an academy and hosts dozens of crafts guilds. 

The fourth Emperor – who also wrote several treatises, the style of which mildly resemble Arved's – runs a brief experiment in democracy. It fails spectacularly, mainly because the top three candidates die in various unlikely ways before the final vote is counted. The fourth-up runner is technically the People's Emperor for about four years before a rebellion orchestrated by an underground religious sect breaks out. The main permanent Gate terminus in the capital is destroyed. Riots erupt. Tens of thousands of people starve before the transport of goods into the city can be restored. 

The old Imperial charter is restored, and the fifth Emperor rules for a hundred and twenty years. (A particularly clever scholar joins his team of advisors early in his reign, leads research efforts into perfecting the life extension magics). Long life is good for stability. Perhaps less good for the freedom of the people, but at least food is reaching the places where people are. Jacona's population hits a hundred thousand. Schools are built in outlying towns and rural areas.

The Empire's next round of expansion involves taking over some existing kingdoms. They're rather badly run, though, and probably their people are better off as citizens of the Empire. 

This is going to be such an interesting conversation when Cam talks to this guy if Cam winds up deciding he can reasonably have anything to say.

The rest of the Empire's history becomes gradually less interesting. If there are unusually creative and clever scholars or advisors sprinkled among the rest, they don't stand out much, but magical research continues to advance. Concert-work temporary Gates are perfected, and soon become commonplace. Weather magic is incredibly sophisticated, now, and crop failures are almost unheard of. While the Empire is very far from egalitarian, it's still more true there than anywhere else that an intelligent and hardworking commoner can obtain an education and rise to a position of great importance. The criminal justice system is a well-oiled machine – oh, certainly some highly-placed people are able to skirt by without punishment, but for a commoner, the streets of a city in the Eastern Empire are among the safest place to be in the known world. Every once in a while, bribery, internal conspiracies, or illegal use of compulsions or blood-magic are uncovered within the bureaucracy, and suitably punished and rooted out. 

The Emperors regularly live to two hundred and rule for a hundred and fifty of those years. Succession isn't free of drama, but usually this comes in the form of fierce behind-the-scenes political wrangling in the decade before an Emperor's expected death, and the actual ascent of a new Emperor is bloodless. Assassinations are next to unheard of; it's difficult to kill a leader when the best mages in the Empire are vying to serve in their Court and, of course, take the expected oaths and loyalty-compulsions. 

The internal investigations become rarer. Eight hundred years in, they still happen occasionally, but tend to have obvious political motivations. It's unspoken but taken for granted that there will be internal conspiracies, and highly-placed officials will obviously bind their own subordinates with illegal compulsions and even try to sneak their agents into the Emperor's Court. Use of blood-magic (usually used with convicts, but those are more and more likely to be political prisoners, or prisoners-of-war from new conquests) skirts by the letter of the law, but no longer especially obeys it in spirit. 

The author of the text doesn't say it in so many words, but Cam might notice that the Empire begins to resemble a carefully-built machine now running on its own, without the supervision of its creator. 

It's a remarkably stable machine. The Empire is still extant, with the same Imperial Law (at least in theory), at least sixteen hundred years after its inception. 

Cam idly makes a teeny desk-size model of the capital city as of the last time covered by his reading.

The next book, "A Lesson on Lessons", is much more recent than the Empire's founding, only nine centuries old. (The history tome did briefly mention some reforms to the academies and examination system in the ensuring century, but the title and author's name were too obscure to warrant a mention.) It lays out theories of pedagogy, the importance of training the teachers, the relevance of tests that can be run identically across the entire Empire, and thus give results that can be compared, when it comes to selecting which candidates from outlying provinces will be accepted to the central academy in Jacona. It discusses tests that measure specific learning, versus raw potential, and under what conditions to use which one. 

It's...not quite the same style as Arved's writings. It's not a grand vision, or even especially a policy proposal; at most, after all the discussion it offers some modest recommendations. Still, some resemblance shines through. 

At this juncture Cam tires of using stylistic resemblance and conjures the title pages (alone) of the complete works of Leareth to see what names are written on them and who they correspond to in the histories.

It's quite an extensive list! 

There are about two hundred title pages that look like published treatises, on various topics – economics, math, architecture, city planning, it goes on and on. 

There are also, interestingly, a set of numbered 'Personal Records' titles, each with a name and a date range. The numbers run from three to forty-two (fourteen and twenty-nine are also missing). The date ranges are everything from eight months to ninety-five years, with a trend toward earlier numbers covering shorter periods. The names very nicely match up with the ones on the various published treatises. 

Arved, the second Emperor, the third Emperor's two ill-fated advisors, the fourth Emperor, and various authors of works mentioned in the Empire's later history all correspond to names on the list. 

Cam makes a list of all the names and refers to it throughout his reading.

And there's a book on theories of magic! This one is much more recent, only three centuries or so, and it doesn't look as polished – more like someone's personal notes, bound for convenience and maybe shared with a few friends but not widely. The name matches Leareth's record-keeping name from the appropriate dates. 

Vanyel and Leareth's world is known to have multiple planes, described as similar to parallel dimensions that have some permeability and interaction with each other. Mage-energy is a sort of universal fuel, able to affect the matter of any plane in a very large number of ways – and to build passages between them. Invisible to un-Gifted humans, it nonetheless behaves somewhat like water, gathering into river-like ley-lines and eventually into dense, turbulent 'nodes' of power. What makes a person Gifted is that they possess 'channels' in their mind, which can take in mage-energy and direct it to some useful purpose. 

Different planes have widely varying levels of ambient mage-energy. Human mages and those of other intelligent races can, via using mage-energy form purely mental projections to other planes. 

The plane where humans live is generally called the mundane or material world. The spirit world, also referred to as the Moonpaths and/or Ethereal Plane, is believed to be where dead spirits reside, although they're difficult both to find and to communicate with even for Gifted people capable of visiting. There are additionally four Elemental Planes (Earth, Air, Fire, Water), named by some long-dead mage for metaphorical resemblance and not because the comparable mundane substances originate there. All are much 'hotter' than the mundane world, in terms of their density of ambient mage-energy. Beings of varying levels of intelligence and power live there, able to dimly sense the mundane world, and mages can summon them by opening a passage that allowing said being to project a magically-constructed body.

The Abyssal Plane is host to 'demons' (an image of something with a random-seeming body plan consisting mostly of legs and eyes), which can also be summoned, although they're very stupid and the only reason to do so is if the mage wants something dead in a messy and disturbing fashion. The Empyreal Plane is believed to exist, and be the primary home of the gods (which are fully multiplanar beings, able to influence all of the other planes), but outside the reach of mages.

There's also the Void, which is a sort of sink – adjacent to all of the planes, it becomes the eventual resting place for all mage-energy, which is eventually returned via some sort of weather-like cycle that isn't fully understood even by Leareth. His top theory is that living things (in all planes), known to be generators of excess mage-energy, are actually pulling from the Void. Space is known to behave differently in the Void; Gates exploit this by routing through the Void to link two places that are distant in mundane-world space. 

Leareth adds the novel hypothesis that the sentient races in the mundane world – those capable of Mind-Gifts – are also multiplanar beings, that a 'Mind plane' exists, separate from the spirit world, and that humans and other races have metaphysical appendages of some kind extending into it. He thinks that routing through this plane could explain why Mindspeech and similar Gifts are so widely found, and how a Thoughtsenser can read the thoughts of anyone, Gifted or not. 

Leareth also theorizes that the Gift of Fetching, the part of it where objects can instantly be transported long distances, works by cutting through the Void in a similar way to Gates, though through a dedicated mind-channel that doesn't leak characteristic Void-energy in the same way. 

Cam writes the outline of a letter, though while all this is interesting it's neither something he has an angle on nor something that will let these people help him.

The rest of the book is mostly some even less organized notes on weird phenomena related to Gates.

Gates don't have to be built on a threshold, though it takes incredible mental discipline for a mage to build one in thin air. Gates don't have to face the same orientation – a clever mage who's mastered threshold-less Gates might, for example, jump down into one built flat on the ground and come flying out somewhere else at his enemies. 

Gates don't always need a specific destination. A mage can instead anchor on an artifact if they know its magical signature, even if they don't know where the artifact is. 

Permanent Gates don't have to be anchored on a threshold either; they do need a focus and a power-seed, but the focus can be a person. The book neutrally mentions a long-ago historical case of a mage successfully attempting this; the name of said mage matches one of Leareth's past lives. The power nearly killed said mage, and left his body fragile, but until the end of his life he could instantly and effortlessly Gate back to the other home terminus, without actually needing to raise a threshold that enemies might follow him through. 

Two ends of a Gate terminus don't have to be in the same plane. A mage could raise a Gate directly to the Elemental Plane of Fire, for example. Which has been tried, because it seems there are people crazy enough to try anything. It mostly results in a very loud explosion – that Plane being much 'hotter' than the mundane world in terms of mage-energies, a rapid 'downhill' flow of power ensues, shortly ending in the death of the mage and collapse of the Gate. Leareth wonders if this is the secret behind the incredible power available to Adepts of the reclusive White Winds school. You can also Gate directly to the Abyssal Plane, if for some inexplicable reason you wanted to. 

Gates...don't always work like Gates. There's a reported incident of a mage – not a very competent one, it sounds like – attempting the spell from instructions in an old book, not knowing its purpose, and accidentally snatching up a different Adept mage who had been in the process of stepping through a Gate several hundred miles away. It's bizarre and hard to believe, but the source is reliable, so Leareth speculates on whether this is a case of Gating imitating Fetching. Both route through the Void, after all. Fetching from a distance can only grab a precisely known object from a precisely known location; in this case, the mage was able to nab a random Adept, but only because he happened to be the only Adept in the world midway through a Gate and thus closer than usual to the Void.

Leareth thinks that this was only a necessary component because the spell would otherwise be underspecified, and fail in the same way that a Gate fails if the mage's sense of his destination is hazy. The Gift of Fetching isn't very flexible, but he muses on whether it would be possible to develop an equivalent spell to Fetch a known artifact from anywhere, as in the case of Gating with said artifact as the destination, or even to Fetch a particular Adept if the mage knew them and their magic intimately enough. 

The section ends without saying whether such a spell was ever developed. 

Cam adds a paragraph to his draft.

Curled up on the couch, Vanyel stirs restlessly. 

The soldier’s name was Galrich. He was twenty-two years old. Once he had been a little boy, leading a tame pigeon through the streets of Sunhame, and now he was dying on the gilded floor of the temple. Blood bubbled at his lips, and then the bubbles stopped, the light fading from his eyes. Everything that was him was escaping, a tide of warm, wild, living power–

–It tasted metallic and sweet and not like a node at all–

... 

What Cam will observe is Yfandes leaping up from the corner and bolting in Vanyel's direction, half a second before a tide of projected sick-horror washes over all of them, cutting off when Yfandes' muzzle touches Vanyel's shoulder, and Vanyel yelps loudly and sits up, staring wide-eyed at the fire. 

Lissa, who's been comfortable installed in a booth with her drink and her packet of papers, belatedly scrambles up and makes a beeline for her brother. 

"whatthefuck!"

"Sorry sorry sorry–" Vanyel looks mortified. "I – gods – I'm so sorry, did I – I checked my shields – sorry..." He trails off, and drops his head into his hands. Lissa is beside him now, muttering something that Cam can't hear. Vanyel seems to be ignoring her. Yfandes looks upset, which is an impressive amount of emotional range to show on a horse face. 

Finally, Vanyel frees himself from the pair of him and gets up, giving Cam a sheepish look. "I had a nightmare, um, about the war. Sometimes when I have a really bad nightmare I project it by accident, but it hadn't happened in ages so I thought it was safe. I'll, er, make sure to either sleep upstairs or with Yfandes closer by, um, in case it happens again..."

And now he's going to go get some coffee, because he probably hasn't slept enough but he's definitely done trying. It would be so incredibly convenient if he could use it to replace sleep like Cam does.

Lissa glances around aimlessly, lands on Cam, and smiles brightly at him. "Did you learn anything interesting in your reading?" 

"Uh. Yeah, lots of stuff, some of it even maybe relevant."

Vanyel stands with his mocha and glares at the fire for a while. He's having trouble even remembering what he was supposed to be doing before the very failed attempt at sleeping... 

:Newspapers: Yfandes helpfully reminds him. 

Right. Which is why he went to sleep thinking about the war, and proceeded to completely humiliate himself in front of Cam. 

Finally, he gathers up the courage to wander over– "Oh! Is that – I haven't read that book! The one on magic theory. It's probably from one of his private collections. Anything interesting?" He would be hurt that Leareth shared a book with Cam and not him, but that would be kind of dumb at this point. "Um, also, what do you think overall? Of Leareth, I mean." 

"It's interesting, yeah. Uh, he's. Very persistent."

Vanyel barks out a short involuntary laugh. "That's for sure. I guess not much else for him to – oh!" He spots the pile of title pages. "What's this? You've got – oh, you have a list! That's incredible, I should go through and check how many of my guesses were right." He blinks, shakes himself. "Er, is that all of the reading list then? Have you decided if you think it's worth sending a message?" 

"Definitely going to send something. Weird application of Gates might conceivably work."

Vanyel stares blankly at him for a moment, trying to silence the sudden litany in his mind of why does it have to be Gates, why can't it be literally anything else. 

"Oh," he says finally. He licks his lips. "Er, good? That's promising, right?" It's unclear. Cam doesn't look all that happy. 

"Is something wrong with Gates? This guy is apparently intermittently into magic powered by human sacrifice, so maybe he wouldn't have mentioned if something is wrong with them?"

Vanyel winces – now he's thinking about things that he really doesn't want to be and, uh, definitely meant to tell Cam about sooner but it somehow ended up not happening and now it's awkward. 

"...Oh, right, Gates. No, there's nothing wrong with them, er, at least not the same kind of thing as with blood-magic. They don't involve killing people or cause environmental damage or anything. They're one of the most costly spells in terms of energy input, so they're tiring, that's a practical issue. And, um, I do have a problem with Gates specifically, but that's just a me thing, it's a bit mysterious but it's probably because of how my Gifts were awakened." He sighs. "If it were anything else I'd be a lot more confident I could go from his description and invent the spell for you – I mean, hells, he's the one who taught me most of what I know about spell research. But not Gates, I'm afraid." 

"There are a million dead Maiar, so anything that goes through a single volunteer probably doesn't work if it's not as scalable as what I'm doing with Elves anyway. I guess unless we get one and they can get all the rest but if they can do that they might get the Valar and if they do that then all the humans and Dwarves on Endorë can't summon and die without afterlives."

Vanyel thinks for a minute. 

"I don't know how your method scales," he says slowly. "I suspect inventing a technique is something only Leareth could do, but it's a lot easier to train mages to cast a known spell – once it's defined enough, you can even build the hard parts into an artifact, skip most of the training. I'm sure Leareth would have people loyal to him he could bring in, if you were willing to trust them. Also, as long as time is paused in our world, and he had a power source," unfortunately the easiest one would be blood-magic and that's obviously not feasible and he's not sure if another world would even have nodes, "it's possible Leareth wouldn't mind getting the casting down to a minute or whatever and the spending the next decade casting it all day every day until he personally hit the full million. Like you said, he's persistent. So far he's spent fourteen years on the project of trying to convince me to work with him, and I don't think he even puts high odds on that succeeding. I don't either – er, or hadn't until now, the fact that he gave you so much information brings me a bit closer to trusting him."

Vanyel clears his throat. "Trusting that his goals are what he says, I mean – I still expect him to do horrible things to accomplish them, it would be understandable if you're not okay with that." And swing back to the second half. "The Valar... I think I don't completely understand what they are. Why would they prevent people from summoning? Er, sorry if you explained and I missed it. Also, um, I think I saw some references in the newspaper but I didn't follow up – what are Dwarves?" 

"Uh. The Valar were very conservative, didn't like summoning just because it was different and figuring out how to make it work with how they wanted things would have been hard? Dwarves are a species, yea high, beards, very capitalist, and they don't have machines in their heads like Elves do, so I can't bring them back. Elves I can do dozens every minute once I have the setup for it. I need personnel to shepherd them all away from my location because otherwise it gets crowded, and the personnel explain things to them, but the resurrections are just a few more months if I don't take breaks."

Lissa grins. "They sound like fun! I'd love to meet them. Ooh, speaking of fun – reckon you'd be up for having some for once? This is exciting, right? I mean, even if it's not definitely going to work, you've got a better chance of bringing your dead people back than earlier, so I think that buys you at least two hours of not being glum about it. Do you like getting drunk? Um, I mean, if you can, if your species can't then we could do something else." Her eyes light up. "Do you dance? That would be a good party. What do you think?" 

"...uh, I'm not wholly opposed in principle but you have managed to guess two things that would not be fun at all. I can get drunk but don't care for it and I'm too clumsy to dance without falling over."

Lissa goes quiet and thoughtful. (It's an odd look on her.) "Um... Music? You play really well." She shoots a sideways glance at Vanyel, who rolls his eyes. "I bet my brother would enjoy hearing some songs you've picked up from other worlds, and maybe he can play you some of ours." A sly grin. "There's some pretty good ones written about him, from the war. He hates them, though. You ever get songs written about you?" 

"Not under my own identity. Unless they've already published some about the black hole while I wasn't paying attention. Uh. There are songs about a thing I did anonymously."

"I'm guessing you don't want to listen to black hole songs for fun," Lissa says, "so let's not look. Anonymous adventures are neat! Are you allowed to play it for us? I promise I won't reveal your secret." She glances around. "Get your lute over here, Van. Want me to grab you a drink?"  

Vanyel makes a face at her. "No, actually, since I just woke up. If you want to buy me more of that coffee with Cam's counterfeit, go ahead, I won't complain."

"Is your water supply not safe at home?" wonders Cam vaguely. "There's no question of not being allowed, I didn't promise anyone anonymity."

“What?” Lissa says absently over her shoulder. “Oh - I mean, the water’s fine here except sometimes in bad storm seasons, and the Palace is safe too. Smaller towns can get iffy, and I guess during the war there wasn’t any safe water for years. Van has a spell to sanitize it but I don’t.”

“Huh,” Vanyel says. “You should’ve said - I could make a portable artifact. Like the big fixed one in the Palace. No one ever asked me to for some reason.”

"Explains rampant alcohol. Water purification's doable with tech, probably scales better if you have the logistics to get the things everywhere they'd go anyway."

Vanyel rolls his eyes. "I think Lissa just likes being drunk, actually." 

Lissa sticks out her tongue at him and then turns back to Cam. "Huh! That's neat. We can pretty reliably get things places but not always fast." 

"Tech also improves on the fast but with more infrastructure requirements."

"Amazing! ...Vanyel, no, how about you don't go ask Bar for books on it right this second, you're the worst, this is having-fun time. If you don't go get your lute right now I'm going to start singing 'Demonsbane'." 

Vanyel gives her a withering look, but he does go get his lute from the booth where he left it.

Lissa will swing by Bar to get him a mocha and herself something alcoholic and surprising. 

Bar complies.

Cam picks up his violin, why not.

Lissa will sit and listen. She thinks Cam plays beautifully, though it's not like she's as good a judge as her brother. 

They do not get to find out what Cam did anonymously because he doesn't sing, just plays a cheery little song, looking at sheet music on his computer.

Vanyel wanders up in time to catch a glimpse of the sheet music. “Oh! What’s that?”

"Sheet music. I didn't memorize any of the songs on this subject."

"Oh!" Vanyel leans closer to look, fascinated. "Is it hard to learn to read it? Do you need to have heard the song before or is this enough by itself? We've got some music notation conventions but it's generally not enough by itself, it's more of a memory aid." 

"This is enough by itself assuming you're prepared to do your own artistic license and, like, know how to play the instrument and stuff. It takes a while, most people from my world learn it at the same time as they learn to play though."

"That's pretty incredible." Vanyel has a new item on his list of 'things to learn which he can justify while outside of time'. "Er, I guess it's my turn. I'll, um..." He has the first few stanzas of 'Demonsbane' stuck in his head now, thanks to his damned sister. He casts around for literally any other song. "Um, this is my mother's favourite song, it's kind of stupid but the instrumentals are interesting. It's called My Lady's Eyes." 

He perches on the booth table and starts playing. 

My Lady's eyes are like the skies / A soft and sunlit blue
No other fair could half compare / In sweet midsummer hue 

Cam records it into a melodic dictation program and then produces a hard copy for Vanyel when he's done.

Vanyel is suitably pleased and impressed. He's curious if he can figure out how the notation works backward, from the fact that he knows the song, though he's planning to go ask Bar for an instruction book or something later. 

"Cam, your turn!" Lissa says brightly. "Play us the anonymous heroics song?" 

"That was the one I played before! There are others but they're not as good, or not suitable for violin."

"Oh." Lissa makes a face. "But what was the heroic thing you did?" 

"Oh, uh, it's possible to summon creatures like me and I publicized that information, it had been secret before."

"...And you got everyone the magical creature afterlife if they wanted it? That's neat!" Lissa bounces a little. "Well, it is still your turn, maybe you can play us a song from the other world, the one with the gods and the war?" 

"I didn't learn their music and their sheet music is different. Also it wasn't about the afterlife, I didn't know that at the time, it was about - shipping and goods and healing and stuff."

"Ooh, right, it was just that people could summon magical creatures like you to help them with things?" Lissa frowns. "Does your kind of magical creature have healing power or is that something else? I feel like I missed some explanations." 

"I have medical training but mostly people get angels to do that for things other than limb replacements or organ transplants."

Vanyel twists around. "You can replace limbs? Um, I mean, not you, but 'angels' – is that what you were calling 'changers' before? That's amazing." 

"Limbs are easier for us than for angels - those are the changers, yeah, sorry. They're better at, like, infections, sealing up incisions, knitting broken bones - I can apply antibiotics for the infections and I have cheats for incisions and bones but they're better at it assuming equivalent training."

"...I have a friend who would really like to talk to you about healing," Vanyel says. "Though it'd be impractical because she's all the way in our capital. Er, did you want to play us another song or should I do one? I don't care what it's about or anything, music from other worlds is just neat. Oh, and..." he hesitates, "...I'd really enjoy trying the violin at some point. If that's all right with you. It sounds beautiful and it's so different." A brief, tight smile. "I also know someone – a couple of someone's – who'd be delighted with all your music, but unfortunately they're in Haven too." 

Cam offers him the violin.

Vanyel takes it. He’s been carefully observing how Cam holds the instrument and the bow as well as his fingerings, almost without realizing it, and he gets it settled under his chin and tries to play a note.

The first one comes out as a screech and he grimaces, but the second is clearer. “Um, any pointers?”

Sure, Cam can give him a violin lesson.

Vanyel is delighted to have a violin lesson! He’s pretty quick at picking up new instruments - it has strings, it’s not that different from what he’s used to.

Then soon the violin will not sound like a dying cat.

"Are you having fun yet?" Lissa says brightly, when Vanyel is busy playing some unknown Valdemaran song and managing to mostly not sound like a dying cat. 

"...I guess? Sure. Music doesn't actually usually cure depression but it's still fun."

Lissa gives the shrug of someone who has no idea what to say in response, and goes off to get herself another drink. 

Vanyel finishes the song and offers the violin back. "Thank you, this is a lovely instrument and I might want to try her again later. I think right now I want to get more coffee and then find reading material, though." 

"Anytime," says Cam. "Take one home with you after we're done here if you like, I'm not short on them." But he accepts it back.

Vanyel starts to walk away, and then stops. He turns around slowly, staring at a point above Cam's left shoulder. 

"...I used human sacrifice magic," he blurts out suddenly. "During the war. It was in an emergency and it's complicated and a long story, but – I kept meaning to tell you and didn't, and I feel like it's something you deserve to know about me. Um. So now you do." 

He turns again, stiffly, and marches in Bar's direction. 

Lissa, frozen for a moment with drink in hand, starts walking again, coming close enough to lower her voice.

"He killed six enemy soldiers who'd ambushed him and our aunt, who was unconscious with backlash and totally helpless because she held a three-hundred-mile Gate for half a candlemark. He would've had to fight them off anyway, he was just too exhausted because he'd been acting as half our firepower all damned day, and I was an idiot and didn't think to give him a guard. He made a lot of mistakes – main mistake was not telling anyone but Savil – but it just went public and he went under trial with the Heralds' Court and they exonerated him. He and Savil would've died otherwise and we would've lost Sunhame and the war would probably still be happening now. It's not – I can't say it wasn't wrong, it was, and he made mistakes to end up in that position at all, but...so did I, and everyone else involved, and gods, I can't... Just, circumstances, right?" 

She takes her drink to a nearby booth and sits down and props her chin in her hands, staring vaguely at the explosions outside. 

"Thank you for telling me."

Neither of them answers him.

Cam works on his letter.

Vanyel asks Bar for reading recommendations to learn more about computers, and if there are any beverages with caffeine in them that don't taste like dessert. 

Unsweetened tea? And a book called Babbage Onward.

The tea will do just fine. Vanyel sits down, a good distance from both Cam and Lissa, and rubs his forehead for a while before trying to focus on the book. (He's an irritating combination of very tired and not at all sleepy.) 

Eventually Cam is done with his letter, and asks quietly if one of them would rewrite it in the local language and then hold the door so he can send a drone with it to the place Leareth will be looking.