Grand Game 490: Ancient Debts (Patreon)

“Now, that everyone is caught up,” I said, after I’d explained the contents of the letter and its implication, “Adriel has something that she wants to share.”

I turned to the lich. Her eyes were closed and her face smooth. If I didn’t know better, I would’ve said she was sleeping. 

“The Primes broke the world,” she said without preamble.

I stiffened, shocked by the stark statement.

“What do you mean by that?” Safyre asked slowly.

Adriel opened her eyes. “Just that. The aether, the nether, the sectors—islands floating in a void—they’re all the Primes’ doing. The ancients fractured the world in a titanic war long before I was even born.”

“How do you break a world?” Teresa demanded.

Adriel chuckled. “A good question. Sadly, though, it’s one to which no one living knows the answer.”

Pressing my palms tightly together, I rocked back and forth, one thought running through my mind: Loken had been telling the truth—at least in part. 

When we’d last met, he’d told me the Primes were the ones who’d shattered the Kingdom, that that was why he and the other new Powers had rebelled. 

“If the Primes did that, why are we trying to bring them back?” a confused Terence asked.

“Another good question,” Adriel murmured, but it was not to Terence but me that she looked, almost as if she could tell what I was thinking.

“Why didn’t you tell me about this earlier?” I asked softly, not oblivious to the irony in me asking her that.

Adriel’s lips quirked. She, too, recognized the reversal in our roles. “At first, I didn’t know you well enough. Then, I feared it might affect your determination to set things right.” Her amusement faded. “But no excuses. I should have shared this tale with you when you told me about Loken’s version.” She stared at me steadily. “But the trickster did not tell you everything. There is more to the story.”

“Go on,” I said, willing to hear her out.

Adriel turned back to Terence. “Like I said, the world’s breaking occurred a long time ago. Before the Houses became a thing, actually. It happened when the Primes roamed the world, sometimes alone, sometimes in packs, seeking out and destroying their rivals, whether of their own bloodline or not. It was an evil era by all accounts.” She sighed. “And ever since, the Houses have been trying to make restitution.”

“Restitution?” Anriq asked. 

Adriel nodded. “Forget not the breaking. Forget not the dead. Forget not our ancient debts,” she quoted. “That was House Death’s motto. Most Houses had something similar. It served as an unsubtle reminder of the breaking and our duty to fix it.”

“Fix it?” Safyre asked, a trace of disbelief in her voice. “How can you fix the aether? The nether? How can you fix a world split apart?”

“With the Game,” Adriel replied succinctly.

My eyes widened. “What?”

“The Game, the guardians, the Adjudicator, they were all created with one purpose in mind,” Adriel said, “and that purpose was—is—restoring the world.”

“How?” I demanded. “How can the Game do that?”   

Adriel laughed ruefully. “I don’t know. I’m not even sure most of the Primes knew. But there is purpose behind the Game. There is purpose behind the Adjudicator. The Game was not created on a whim.”

“What about the stygians? Nyra asked, breaking out of her shell to join the conversation. “How do they fit into all this?”

Adriel’s lips turned down. “That, too, is something I don’t have the answer to. But by every documented account I’ve read, the stygians did not exist before the breaking. Whatever happened when the Kingdom was shattered brought them here, and ever since, they’ve been trying to make the world theirs.”

“And the new Powers?” I asked, intrigued despite myself.

“While the Game began with the noblest of intentions, it did not stay that way. Over time, it became corrupted. The new Powers are the ultimate manifestation of that corruption. Power for the sake of Power.”

Teresa scowled. “What are you saying, then? That we—” she spread her arms to encompass the players in the room—“that all of us were brought to the Kingdom to fix the Primes’ problems?”

Adriel shrugged. “Maybe. Like I said already, I don’t know how the Game is supposed to mend things.”

“Where does that leave us?” Safyre asked quietly, looking at me.  

“The same place we started,” I replied just as softly. “Except, with a different perspective, maybe.”

✵ ✵ ✵

We took a short break thereafter. 

After Adriel’s revelations, everyone felt the need to clear their heads, me included. Standing alone in the snowstorm—it didn’t bother me like it did the others—I stared out onto the tundra.

Thus far, I’d been operating on the assumption that the Primes were good, and the new Powers evil, a naïve world view admittedly, but not one I had questioned too closely. Now, though, I was forced to face the question head on…

If Adriel was to be believed—and I didn’t doubt her—Wolf and his kin had committed deeds as black, if not blacker, than Loken and his fellows. In fact, nearly everything about our present circumstances could be traced back to them and the decisions they had made. 

The Game. The world’s breaking. The stygians.

It was all the Prime’s doing. Of course, I didn’t doubt the new Powers were any better. But Adriel’s story had called into question my commitment to restore the Houses—just as she feared it would.

I sighed. Why is nothing simple?

A soft chuckle sounded in my mind. “Perhaps because nothing is ever black and white.”

Glancing to my left, I saw Duggar approaching. 

“Deep thoughts?” he asked as he drew to a stop next to me.

“Maybe. I’ve just realized the task I set myself is not as simple as I anticipated.” I laughed. “On second thought, it was never simple to begin with.” I rubbed my chin. “Only now…”

“You’re wondering if it’s the right choice?” Duggar suggested.

I nodded. “I am Wolf. I am certain of that as I am of little else in this world. He sings within me.”

“He does,” Duggar agreed.

“But about the Houses…” I laughed sharply. “I’m less certain about them. After Adriel’s revelation, I find myself wondering if I should bring back the Houses, or if it would not be better for the Kingdom if they stayed dead.” I glanced at Duggar expectantly, waiting to hear what he had to say.

But the big dire wolf said nothing. Standing companionably next to me, he stared off into the tundra.

“What?” I prompted. “You’re not going to convince me otherwise?”

He snorted. “I’m not Sulan. I respect Wolf, but I don’t revere the ancients the way she does.”

“I see,” I murmured, staring out contemplatively over the horizon. “You know,” I said after a moment, “I thought by raising House Wolf, I was being true to the Primes, doing what they wanted.”

“And you probably were,” Duggar agreed. “House Wolf was the old Wolf’s dream.” He turned his great head my way. “But you forgot one thing.”

“Oh?” I asked, meeting his gaze.

“Wolf always follows his own path.” His piece seemingly said, the alpha turned tail and headed back to the den. “It’s too cold out here,” he growled.

I smiled. “It’s refreshing.”

Snorting disdainfully, Duggar didn’t bother to reply.

“You know you haven’t made my decision any easier?” I called after him.

The alpha chuckled. “Who told you it was going to be easy?”

Before I could think of an apt rejoinder, Nyra stuck her head out of the central igloo. “Michael?” she yelled. “You coming? Everyone is already gathered. We’re just waiting on you.”

Swiveling about, I followed after Duggar. It was time for some decisions.

Difficult though they might be.

 ✵ ✵ ✵

“So, what’s next?” Terence asked the moment I seated myself.

“We decide our next move,” Safyre replied.

“Which is no easy task,” Teresa said heavily. She gestured at me, “considering how many open tasks you have.”

I nodded. “That is true enough.”

“Then, let’s start by defining our priorities,” Safyre said. “What are they?”

“Cleansing sector 18,240 of the nether,” Teresa declared immediately. “If the sector falls to the void, we lose access to Draven’s Reach.”

“Reclaiming sector 12,560,” Terence added. “Erebus dungeon is too important a resource to ignore.” He gave me a lopsided smile. “And I miss Saya.”

“Gaining more blood memories,” Anriq volunteered. “Without Michael getting stronger, we’ll be hard put to hold any sector.”

“We also have to secure the Guardian Tower and restore the Nexus guardian,” Adriel put in. “Even if I am not the one to take Kolath’s place, someone has to.” 

“Why bother with the tower at all?” Safyre asked curiously.

“Nexus is the heart of the Game and the key to everything, and what the Guardian Tower has to offer in this respect cannot be ignored: a means to enter and leave Nexus without alerting the Triumvirate,” Adriel replied. “With a guardian in place that’s friendly to our cause we secure the Tower the same way Draven does the Reach.”

Safyre nodded thoughtfully. “Good point.” She scanned the room. “What else?”

“Returning to Draven’s Reach,” Nyra said softly, “and convincing New Haven to join our cause.”

“Awakening Draven’s brethren,” Duggar said in my mind, and acting as his voice, I repeated his words aloud for the benefit of the others.

“Reclaiming the Wolf Torc from Dathe,” Anriq said.

“Getting Michael’s money!” Terence added with a laugh.

“Don’t forget about the lost Prime,” Safyre said. “We have to find her.”

“There is also House Death to consider,” Adriel said. “We must raise it, and the other Houses too if we can manage it.”

Safyre nodded. “By my count all that makes ten.” She made a face. “We’re not short on priorities, at least.”

Laughter rippled across the room. “Does anyone have anything else to add?” Safyre asked when it subsided.

No one replied.

Safyre looked at me. “Michael, you’ve been quiet.” She smiled. “But I’ve never known you to be without an opinion. You must have some thoughts as to our next move?”

“Just working through some stuff,” I replied. Duggar’s words were still ringing in my head and the more I considered them, the more they resonated with me.

“Care to share?” Safyre asked pointedly when I didn’t go on.

I held up my hands, palms up. “Sorry, you’re right. I should share. Keeping my own counsel has become... habit, I suppose.”

“We know,” she said solemnly. “But tell us, please.” 

 “Alright.” I exhaled. “I agree with everything everyone has said. Those are all priorities. But there are even more things we can throw on the list.” 

Raising my right hand, I began ticking off points on my fingers. “Things like acquiring allies—be they the bounty hunters, the Blades, the under-dwellers, or even the brotherhood. And learning everything we can of the stygians. Or finding out what is so important about the artifact Loken wants, or going one step further and figuring out what game he is playing at. Then there is exploring Erebus’ dungeon and making contact with those already resisting the new Powers—I even have an inkling where to start with that one.” 

I threw up my hands as I ran out of fingers. “Let’s not forget leveling up and skill training. I can go on, but sixteen different priorities are already too many.”

Safyre tilted her head to the side. “So, what are you saying?”

“I’m saying…” I began, then stopped.

“I’m saying,” I said more slowly as my thoughts crystalized, “that it’s premature to focus on our next step just yet. We can’t do that, not until we agree on what we’re trying to achieve.”

“I thought we already knew what that was,” Anriq said, looking confused. “We’re trying to restore House Wolf.” When no one said anything, he looked around. “Aren’t we?”

“That’s part of it,” Teresa agreed, “but we’re not all Wolves.” She jerked her chin in Adriel’s direction. “Nor can we ever be as the lich pointed out earlier. Our goal should be broader. What we should attempt to do is resurrect all the Houses.”

“Including whichever Cat one we spring from,” Terence put in.

“But reviving the Houses is not all that we’re about, is it?” Nyra asked. “We also want to defeat the stygians.” 

“And vanquish the new Powers,” Safyre asserted, “freeing ordinary people and creatures from their stifling rule.”

“All of those things are just a means to an ends, though,” Adriel said softly, her eyes on me. “Ultimately, we want to settle the ancients’ debts, don’t we?”

I met her gaze. “Why?”

Her brows drew down. “What do you mean why?”

“Why do we want to do that?” I asked.

“To fix what’s broken, of course,” Teresa said, almost scornfully.

I turned to her. “And what good will that do?” 

“Well, for starters, the world will be whole again!” she snapped.

“How is that good?”

She glared at me. “It’ll get rid of the stygians for one.”

“We don’t know that,” I pointed out. “Even if we can fix what’s broken, it doesn’t mean things will go back to the way they were before the breaking.”

“What are you getting at, Michael?” Safyre asked.

“That it has been eons since the world shattered,” I said, spreading my arms wide. “People have adapted. The land has adapted. Tribes and nations that were split apart have evolved and developed separate identities. Sectors have been resettled. Those who preferred isolation fled to the deepest darkest corners of the world.” I brought my hands together. “Now imagine, if we forced all those disparate peoples, places, and cultures together again. What do you think will happen?”

“Chaos, mayhem, war,” Anriq replied.

I nodded. “Exactly.” I turned back to Adriel who was watching me intently. “It’s too late to fix the Kingdom. Trying to right that ancient wrong will only inflict a greater wrong on the world.”

She stared at me unblinkingly. “What do you suggest then? Leaving things as they are?”

“No,” I said firmly. “The new Powers are tyrants, I agree with you on that much.” I paused. “But the Primes were no angels either. They and the Houses are largely why we are where we are today.”

Teresa, Anriq, and even Terence opened their mouths in protest, but Safyre raised her hand, silencing them. “Where does that leave us, Michael?”

I exhaled sharply. “With no choice but to start something new.”

Silence.

“Something new?” Nyra asked tentatively.

“Yes, new,” I repeated. “Why should we follow the same tired old patterns? Why should we try resurrecting something that we know does not work? Why should our goals be the same as those of Primes long dead?”

“Because the bloodlines give us power,” Adriel rasped. “The power to change things.”

I waved aside her words. “I’m not suggesting we abandon the bloodlines. On the contrary, we have to do everything we can to gather strength and that means reviving the bloodlines. What we don’t need are the Houses.”

“Which means what?” Adriel asked with growing impatience.

I leaned forward. “Don’t you see? With all this talk of Houses and bloodlines and already our goals have started diverging. The twins want to raise their House. You need to raise Death. I want to revive Wolf. How much longer before we part ways entirely? And how much longer after that do you think it’ll be before we start warring against each other?”

I sat back. “For better or worse, the Houses are gone, long dead, and that leaves us with a unique opportunity. Why recreate separate Houses for Wolf, Death, and so on? Why divide non-players from players, and Forcesworn from scions? Why not bring everyone under one roof?” I blew out a slow breath. “No artificial separation. No unequal rights. No special privileges.”

“Keep the bloods, do away with the Houses, is that what you’re suggesting?” Adriel asked, not sounding convinced.

“Something like that.” I opened my arms wide. “We’ve already started down this road by appointing all of you—non-Wolves—to the inner council of House Wolf, but I realize now that that doesn’t go nearly far enough. We should assume a common identity, one that does not favor any bloodline.”

Adriel shook her head. “You’re ignoring the reason the Houses were formed in the first place. It’s true the ancients’ system was not perfect, but there can be no question that the Houses worked, that they stopped the endless cycle of wars that was so prevalent before them. Without the Houses, the world would have suffered a second breaking, I am sure of it.”

I smiled. “You’ve just proved my point.”

Her brows furrowed.

“What did the Houses bring?” I asked rhetorically. “Unity and structure, that’s what. Both of which reduced the conflicts that flared up, and when they did, provided a mechanism for regulating them.” I stared hard at the lich, willing her to understand. “What I’m suggesting is the same, only I propose taking it a few steps further.”

“One House in the place of many?” Safyre murmured.

I nodded, not looking away from Adriel. The naked skepticism had disappeared from her gaze, and I could only hope she was actually thinking through my words.

“You think it will make a difference?” Adriel asked eventually. “You think it will stop the infighting and power grabs?”

“Maybe, maybe not. But if we don’t try…” I shrugged.

Adriel sighed. “I’m too old for this,” she muttered.

I straightened, sensing capitulation in her words. “Then you agree?”

“I won’t go that far,” she said dryly. “But I’ll allow that your idea has potential.” She paused. “You do realize you’re going to have a hell of a time convincing Ceruvax though? That old wolf is unbending.”

My smile broadened. “Leave Ceruvax to me.”