Grand Game 360: Death Matters (Patreon)

Day Twenty-Four in Draven’s Reach

After Adriel left, Ghost and I spoke.

I filled her in on what had happened in the safe zone, and she told me her own tale. Ghost, it seemed, had managed to hide from the harbinger and the spores. That, however, had not stopped the oblivion spell from reaching her. It had not killed her outright, but like the lich had surmised, had hurt her badly.

Despite her fraying spirit, Ghost had ventured out to search for me as soon as the stygians had left. It was Ghost’s mind cries that attracted the lich.

A day after I’d been killed, Adriel had found the spirit wolf wandering lost and dazed. From what Ghost told me, she would not have survived without the lich’s intervention. Adriel had taken her in and kept her alive with her spells and rituals.

Once her tale was done, Ghost fell asleep, unable to stay awake any longer. Leaving the exhausted spirit wolf be, I lay down and considered what I’d learned. It seemed that I had a lot to be grateful to Adriel for.

That, however, did not lessen my trepidation regarding her tale.

✵ ✵ ✵

I awoke the next morning to the murmur of soft voices.

Turning around, I saw that Adriel and Ghost were already awake and chatting. Yawning, I sat up. I had slept longer than I’d expected and had clearly been more exhausted than I realized.

“Morning, Prime,” Ghost greeted.

“Morning,” I replied, stepping closer to her. Sleep had done wonders for Ghost, and she sounded better than she had yesterday.

I glanced at Adriel, who nodded, “She is on the mend.”

I smiled. “That is excellent news.” I paused. “Does that mean your spells will not be necessary?”

The lich shook her head. “Not at all. Ghost still has some way to go.”

“Oh,” I said, deflating. I turned to Ghost, taking in the mismatched body she occupied. Even a day later, it looked no less appealing. “Looks like you’re going to have to stay in there for a while longer.”

“I don’t mind,” she replied. And, strangely enough, she sounded as if she meant it.

“We’d better get started, then,” I said to Adriel.

“We will,” the lich replied. “After we finish the discussion we began yesterday.”

I nodded, my good mood evaporating. “Go on,” I said, sitting next to Ghost.

Adriel inhaled, nervous for the first time since I’d met her. “I guess I should start at the beginning.” She exhaled slowly. “I am—was, rather—from House Death.”

“House Death?” I murmured. It was not an ancient House I’d heard of, but that was not surprising given how little I still knew about the Primes. “Is that why you are a…” I gestured helplessly at her form.

Adriel smiled. “A flesh golem? Or do you mean a lich?”

I shrugged. “Either.”

“Both came later.” Her humor faded. “Believe it or not, but House Death does not look kindly upon lichs.”

I frowned, puzzled.

“Why will become clear soon,” Adriel said, seeing my look. “Given our earlier discussion, I assume you know of the conflict between the new Powers and the Primes?”

I nodded. “The new Powers overthrew the ancient Houses, and since then, they have been suppressing all knowledge of the Primes.”

“That’s about it in a nutshell,” Adriel said. “My own tale began during the war.” She gazed off into the distance. “I was in my home sector the day the insurrection reached House Death. By that point, there had been uprisings all over the Kingdom, but none of the major Houses had been affected yet and the Primes thought nothing of the threat.”

She sighed. “That day, we learned the folly of our complacency. Despite being one of the biggest Houses in the Kingdom, Death fell swiftly. Our Prime was overpowered, and the sector sealed. Then the slaughter began. Every scion, regardless of age or strength, was killed, one by one, over and over.”

“Couldn’t you rally in the safe zone?” I asked quietly.

“We tried to,” Adriel answered, still looking away. “But once you lose control of a sector, the last thing a safe zone is, is safe. The moment we were reborn, the rebels ejected us, and killed us anew.” Her lips twisted in something resembling a smile. “It was—and I suppose still is—a proven tactic for slaying players. If you know beforehand when and where a player will resurrect, and have overwhelming force on your side, killing them is simplicity itself.”

I nodded, realizing what she meant.

“That was when three of us decided to change the game. After dying and being reborn multiple times, we realized we couldn’t escape—at least not in the normal sense. So, we did something unexpected. Slipping the rebel’s leash, we took shelter in the wilds of the sector and managed to evade capture long enough to perform one of the most reviled rituals in House Death.”

Adriel fell silent then, and not wanting to interrupt, I waited for her to go on.

“We severed the links between our bodies and spirits— permanently—and became lichs.”

I felt Ghost’s interest quicken, and my own did as well. “You mean you deliberately recreated an event similar to the one that transformed Ghost into a spirit wolf?”

Adriel looked from me to the spirit wolf then back again. “No, nothing like that. What happened to Ghost was a mistake. Her spirit survived the experience but was left vulnerable. A lich’s spirit, on the other hand, is invulnerable.” Reaching into her robe, she pulled out a necklace. Hanging on the end of it was a tiny glass vial. “This is my phylactery. It anchors my spirit, Until it is destroyed, I will never die.”

I stared at the innocuous-looking bottle. “You weren’t wearing that before,” I deduced.

Adriel smiled. “Of course not. It is normally never on my person. I only brought it here today so you could understand the whole of what I am.”

My gaze slid to the flesh golem corpses still in the chamber. Adriel had not bothered removing them, and unlike ordinary corpses, they bore no stink of death. “Then those were—”

“—all incarnations of myself,” she finished for me. “Each time you slew one of my bodies, I slipped into another and returned.”

“I see,” I said. Then, screwing up my courage, I asked something I really didn’t want to, “Who did those bodies belong to before you…”

Adriel’s smile faded. “Before I stole them, you mean?”

I winced, but even knowing the matter was likely to raise Adriel’s ire and possibly turn her uncooperative, I could not let it go. “Yes, whose lives did you steal?” I asked more bluntly.

“Prime,” Ghost began. “You’re mistaken. Adriel would never—”

“Shush, little one,” Adriel interjected. “I appreciate your defense, but this is something for which I must answer on my own.” Adriel held my gaze. “The flesh golems are of my own making.”

I stared at her blankly. “What?”

“I mold flesh the way a blacksmith forges steel or a carpenter fashions wood.” She gestured to Ghost. “That is how I formed Ghost’s body.”

I sagged, relieved to no end by her answer. “Then you didn’t kill anyone to create your flesh golems?”

“I didn’t,” Adriel confirmed. “But.” She squeezed her eyes shut. “You are not entirely wrong. Crafting a proper flesh golem is not the work of an instant. It takes time and material. Over the course of my long life, I have oftentimes found myself short of both and have stolen many a body.”

“You possessed them, you mean,” I said flatly, feeling suddenly sickened.

“I did what I needed to survive,” Adriel said, not flinching from the accusation. “Can you claim to have done otherwise?”

I sighed, conceding the point. What Adriel said was true enough. I had slain no few to further my own survival. As repulsive as I found possession, in the end, it was no different to killing someone. Had I killed innocents? I didn’t think so, but some of my victims would likely contest that. Were I in Adriel’s place, would I have chosen differently? I didn’t know the answer to that either, and it troubled me. It was something to ponder later on.

Letting the matter go, I returned to her tale. “How did becoming a lich help you escape the new Powers?”

“There is a reason the lich-making ritual is despised. Severing spirit from body also breaks the bonds between scion and House. In effect, after becoming lichs, we were no longer players.”

“How did that help?” Ghost asked, sounding puzzled.

“It stopped her from resurrecting in the safe zone,” I explained before Adriel could answer. “And likely misled the rebels to believe she suffered final death.”

“Correct,” the lich confirmed. “The next time we died, our spirits returned to these,” she said, pointing to the phylactery on her necklace.

“You keep saying we,” I said. “Who do you mean?”

“Two others performed the lich ritual with me. Farren, my brother. And Loskin who was once a dear friend.”

“You’ve mentioned that name before,” I noted.

Adriel nodded somberly. “Loskin is the archlich.”

“Ah,” I breathed, not finding myself at all surprised.

“Are the other possessed lichs too?” Ghost asked.

Adriel shook her head. “The others are not like us. For one, none of them have the necessary skill in death magic. For another, the ritual for lich-making is one of House Death’s shameful secrets that neither Farren, Loskin, nor I would ever share with outsiders.”

“So, if Avery and Castor aren’t lichs, what are they?” I asked. “And how can they do what you do?”

“They can’t,” Adriel said. “Not entirely. But with their consent, a lich can affect a spirit jump—what you call possession—on their behalf.”

“Which also makes them dependent on the archlich,” I concluded.

“Exactly,” Adriel said. “The other possessed have no control over their own spirits and need Loskin to rehome them after death. It’s how he maintains his power over the group.”

I rubbed my chin thoughtfully. “But you said the others are scions too. Where do they come from, if not from House Death?”

“Getting back to my tale,” Adriel said. “After we became lichs, Loskin, Farren, and I escaped the sector. By then, much of the Kingdom was in turmoil, and none of the other Houses could provide us with a safe haven. That’s when the three of us hit upon the idea of entering a dungeon. Everyone was too caught up in the war to pay much attention to the Endless Dungeon. We selected Draven’s Reach for our new home and headed here. Along the way, we ran across other refugees. Many were scared and desperate, and Loskin offered them what, at the time, seemed a magnanimous choice.”

“Let me guess,” I said, “stay and die at the hands of the new Powers or join you in the dungeon as possessed?”.

Adriel nodded mutely.

“Why Draven’s Reach, though?” I asked.

“For many reasons,” she answered. “One, it was a high-tiered dungeon and therefore less likely to be heavily trafficked than other dungeons. For another, it had only a single entrance and exit, which made it easier to guard. Then, too, the dungeon would help us get stronger.”

I frowned. “Stronger how? I thought you weren’t players any longer?”

Adriel smiled humorlessly. “Being a player is the easiest path to power, but not the only one. Before our transformation, Farren, Loskin, and I were above rank twenty-five. We were destined for great things, which, incidentally, was why the new Powers’ insurrection galled Loskin so much.

“He was determined to continue the fight against them but was realistic enough to know that we would have to get stronger first, and that meant evolving into Powers. As a non-player, that is infinitely harder, but still achievable.”

“So, you came here for power,” I said. “Then what?”

Adriel nodded. “We did, but only Loskin has stuck to the task diligently. Both Farren and I lost interest after a few centuries. Loskin, though, is very close to his goal. Give him a few more decades, and he will be a minor Power himself.”

“Where do the New Havens fit in?” Ghost asked.

“They entered the dungeon centuries later,” Adriel said, “after their sector was invaded by the nether. At first, we celebrated that fact, thinking it only made our refuge more secure. With the entrance portal permanently closed, no one else could enter the dungeon.”

“But then the nether also came here,” I said.

“It did.” She eyed me carefully. “As have you. You still haven’t told me how you managed to get into Draven’s Reach.”

I shrugged. “I entered through a hidden portal. From another nether-infested sector, funnily enough.”

A frown marred Adriel’s forehead. “I see. It seems the stygians want this sector more badly than I thought.”

I could see the idea troubled the lich, but I was more interested in something else just then. “Back to the New Havens. Is it true that the possessed are keeping them from leaving?”

Adriel’s face smoothened, but she did not shirk from the question. “Yes,” she unanswered unequivocally.

“Is it also true that the possessed harvest the bodies of any player born in New Haven?”

“Again, correct,” Adriel answered, her expression opaque.

My own face tightened. “And you allowed this?”

Adriel finally looked away. “I did. But you must understand, we began with the best of intentions. At first, we welcomed the New Havens, and they, us. Our relationship was one of mutual consent. We ensured their survival, and they eased the hardship some of the possessed were experiencing with their fraying bodies. Then the New Havens completed their escape tunneland wanted out of Draven’s Reach. That’s when things changed.”

“But... but don’t the rest of the possessed use flesh golems like you do?” Ghost asked, her own voice small as she realized the magnitude of Adriel’s crimes.

Adriel sighed. “Sadly, little one, they can’t. The possessed’s spirits are not as fully separated from their bodies as mine is—or yours, for that matter—and they retain a certain attachment to their former physical forms. Because of this, they can only be spirit jumped into shells that are similar.”

“Shells, you say,” I said stiffly. “But you mean player bodies, don’t you?”

The lich nodded impassively. “Or more correctly, those bearing the blood.”

“You said things changed when the tunnel was built,” I said, ignoring this further aside, I steered the conversation back on course. “You said things changed. How?”

“Loskin took over the escape route, pronouncing it was too early for the New Havens to leave. By then, the city was well established, and its people had already been in the dungeon for over a century. What were a few more centuries? he reasoned. The archlich believed it would be better if we—New Havens and possessed—left the dungeon together as a unified force, one army under him.

“And was that when you turned exile?”

“No,” Adriel whispered. “Even then, I remained Loskin’s staunch supporter. Farren, Loskin, and I might not have any need for the New Haven players, but the other possessed did, and we needed them to defeat the new Powers in the coming war.”

I bowed my head to hide my expression. Adriel’s hands were stained with more blood than I could easily swallow. “So, what finally changed?” I asked softly. “When did you leave the archlich’s court?”

“When the stygians came,” she replied neutrally.

I looked up. “This was after the escape tunnel was built?” I asked. “A couple of centuries, give or take,” she replied.

“Why then?”

“At first, we helped the city fight the nether off,” Adriel replied obliquely. “But when it became apparent the void would not relent, when the harbinger arrived, when they began sowing the sector with seed after seed, and our losses kept mounting, then Loskin withdrew his support. He claimed it was better Draven’s Reach fell to the void than we whittle away our forces trying to stave off the inevitable. He believes the new Powers are the true threat. We had to stay strong to face them. I disagreed.”

“Why?” I probed.

“Because Loskin is wrong,” she said simply. “The new Powers are a… nuisance, compared to the void. It will swallow the Forever Kingdom whole if it is allowed to. And, more than most sectors, Draven’s Reach is crucial to the Kingdom’s wellbeing. It cannot be allowed to fall.”

My eyes narrowed. “Why is that?”

“There is a reason the stygians came here. A reason why they have deployed so many resources to ensure its fall.

“And what reason is that?” I asked.

Not answering, Adriel rose to her feet. “That is a whole another conversation, and one we can entertain later, but for now, I think it’s time to resume Ghost’s healing.” She stared at me piercingly. “Assuming, of course, you still desire my aid?”

I misliked that Adriel was keeping things from me, but right now that concerned me less than the question she had just posed. Knowing about the lich’s dark past, could I—we—accept her help? I glanced at Ghost. “What do you think?” I asked bluntly, despite knowing Adriel could overhear.

Ghost took her time answering. “I… like Adriel. Her thoughts are open and honest, her mind bright,” she replied. Despite this, she still sounded uncertain. “But… I don’t know. People can be confusing.”

I nodded. We could indeed. I rose to my feet. “I will have to think about it.” Saying nothing else, I left the room.