Grand Game 370: The Nether’s Newest Creature (Patreon)

It took the harbinger another five minutes to arrive. During that time, none of Loskin’s retinue reappeared, and I could only assume the distraction we’d arranged was working.

The focus crystal I’d broken was a valuable artifact, and according to Farren, the possessed had only one other replacement—which it so happened was stored in the very same vault on which I stood on, a vault that only Loskin could get into.

In the interim, the movement of players in and out of the mansion had only grown. But, without Loskin or any of his immediate lieutenants to direct them, the other possessed appeared at a loss on what to do.

The conflicting report on the archlich’s location added to the chaos. Some possessed insisted he was at Regus’ house while others claimed he was directing matters from the mansion. A few had nonetheless run off in the direction of the security chief’s house, but now that I’d spotted the harbinger on the horizon, I no longer cared what messages they carried.

We’d passed the point of no return. And whether they liked it or not, the possessed would soon be battling the harbinger—without a shield to hide behind.

I slinked to the northern end of the vault’s roof, the side directly bordering the courtyard. None of the possessed below had spotted the approaching stygian yet. A silent, ominous shape gliding on outstretched wings, the harbinger was homing in on the buried seeds.

Drawing mana, I waited.

A second passed, and another, then finally a possessed spotted something amiss.

“Hey! Look at that!”

“Look at what?”

“That smudge in the sky. It wasn’t there before.”

“Pppft, you’re jumping at shadows. That’s nothing.”

“No, she’s right. I see it too. And it wasn’t there before.”

“Is it a cloud?” someone asked doubtfully.

“Can’t be, it’s growing too quickly for that.”

“Well, what is it then?” A sergeant snapped impatiently.

“Damn, where are Loskin and Farren?”

“I k-kn-ow wha-at that is,” the spotter added, her voice trembling.

“What?” a chorus of voices barked.

“It… it’s the… harbinger,” the sharp-eyed possessed replied with undisguised fear.

There was silence—profound and disturbing. And for all of five seconds, the possessed were shocked into inaction, neither moving nor tearing their gazes from the sky.

“She’s right,” an archer whispered finally. The confirmation galvanized the possessed into action, and chaos expelled. In the space of a single breath, conflicting orders, accusations, and even panicked screams were voiced atop one another.

Smiling, I rose to my feet. The harbinger was close enough now that no one could mistake him for anything else. Likewise, he could not miss me on the roof of the vault.

Multiple unknown entities have failed to pierce your disguise.

“Look! There’s Loskin.”

“He’ll save us!”

“What are your orders, boss?”

Ignoring the possessed below, I kept my eyes pinned on the harbinger as I raised my right hand languidly to point not at him but at the the buried seeds.

The stygian Power must have had some premonition of what I intended because he broke his silence then to snarl in wordless rage. My grin broadening, I released the pent-up mana gathered in my hand.

You have cast darkness bolt.

You have destroyed a stygian seed!

You have destroyed a stygian seed!

…

...

In the blink of an eye, all six seeds were turned to dust.

Satisfied with my work, I glanced upward at the harbinger. I’d timed things perfectly and he was still too far away to retaliate effectively. That did not stop the stygian from attempting a response, though. Magic, dark and malevolent, gathered in his open beak.

Preparing my own counter, I waited.

A split-second later, the harbinger’s spell boiled out of his mouth. In the same heartbeat, I released my own casting.

A stygian harbinger has cast nether’s cloying touch.

You have cast windborne.

I set the ramp of air on the roof, directing it back the way I’d come. It would have been simpler to jump off the building into the courtyard below, but I’d not forgotten the watching possessed. From afar, my deception might go unremarked, but from up close, someone was sure to notice my un-Loskin-like behavior.

You have evaded a harbinger’s attack.

Zipping along the windslide, I somersaulted off the far edge of the roof to land lightly on the ground below, and without hesitation, wrapped myself in shadow.

Multiple hostile entities have failed to detect you! You are hidden.

I chuckled quietly, imaging the harbinger’s fury at my escape. Whether the stygian knew who Loskin was or not, I had no idea, but I was certain he would give the archlich a warm welcome when he eventually did arrive. Rising into a half-crouch, I tiptoed away.

My part in the battle was done.

Now, it was up to Loskin to save his people—or not—and, more importantly, to show up and defend his phylactery.

✵ ✵ ✵

I felt the harbinger’s landing. The entire court did, I suspected.

The ground rumbled and shook, knocking many of the possessed off their feet. As if that were not enough, the harbinger threw back his head and cawed; an angry announcement of his presence.

That will certainly catch Loskin’s attention, I thought, snickering in delight.

“Lich, show yourself!” the harbinger bellowed.

I paused in my retreat. There was really no reason for me to hang about, and every reason not to, but I couldn’t resist the temptation to witness the coming confrontation.

Just a few seconds, I temporized. Then I’ll go.

Tiptoeing to the corner of the nearest building, I peeked around. The harbinger had landed in the centre of the courtyard, next to the fountain, destroying it in the process. His hind legs stiff and erect, the stygian stood protectively over the dead seeds’ remains.

An armored fighter rushed in from the side, his axe raised, but the harbinger barely glanced his way. Extending his right wing, the stygian battered the hapless possessed aside.

“LOSKIN!” the stygian roared again.

So, I thought, the harbinger and archlich do know each other.

A gaunt figure materialized in the courtyard, a hundred yards away from the angry stygian. “I’m here, beast,” the archlich said, his voice as dry as parched paper. Sweeping his gaze over the chaos, he asked, “What is the meaning of this?”

“You murdered the chosen!” the harbinger screamed. “You and the Wolf! He is your creature, he must be.”

Loskin frowned. “I have no idea what you are on about, nor do I care to know.”

“LIAR!” The harbinger screamed. “It makes sense now—how he escaped my trap, how he killed the chosen.” Lowering his head, the harbinger pinned the archlich with a furious gaze. “It’s been you all along. You are the one who has orchestrated this!”

Just shut up and fight, why don’t you? I thought, rolling my eyes. The harbinger’s penchant for talking could ruin everything. It was well and good he had fallen for my ploy, but the longer he went on speaking, the more chance there was that Loskin would realize the truth. Thankfully, though, the archlich paid the stygian’s accusations no heed.

“I do not care if you believe me, wretched thing,” the lich replied mildly. “What I do care about is that you’ve invaded my compound.” His eyes glinted. “You’ve damaged what is mine. For that, you will pay.”

“Bold words!” the harbinger spat. He sneered derisively at the possessed surrounding him. “And who do you expect to help you? These? They cannot stand against me.”

“But we can,” another said.

Glancing to the left, I saw Farren’s slim figure appear in the courtyard. A dozen others stood behind him. Analyzing each in turn, I realized they were all elites. Loskin, must have sent to his fellow lich for reinforcements while he delayed the harbinger. Clever.

“You and your kind have no place in this world,” Loskin said. “It is time I scrubbed the dungeon of your foulness.” He raised his hands.“We are undying, beast. You cannot kill us.”

“Undying? Bah!” The harbinger’s gaze slid to the vault. “Do not think I don’t know about your tricks, lich. When I destroy your precious golems, you will taste death. Forever.”

Loskin’s lips tightened fractionally, the only sign he gave that the harbinger’s words perturbed him.

Then he attacked.

✵ ✵ ✵

Between one second and the next, the courtyard was transformed into a maelstrom of destruction as first Loskin, then Farren and the others unleashed a deluge of spells.

The harbinger was not slow to act either and flung his own magic right back.

An errant blob of darkness—flung by who, I couldn’t tell—landed less than ten yards from me. Yikes, I muttered, that was too close. It was time I left. Wrenching my gaze away from the combatants, I crept away.

My retreat, like everything else, was part of the plan, which—despite its rocky start—was back on course. The next step was meeting Adriel, who should already be at the rendezvous point.

Orienting myself on the villa in question—the exile’s old and apparently still abandoned manor—I slipped unnoticed towards it. The building was not far and overlooked the courtyard, which suited our needs perfectly.

For what came next, we needed a clear line of sight to the vault. Breaking into the building would have to wait, though. Until both our targets—harbinger and archlich—tired themselves out, or better yet, killed each other outright, we couldn’t act.

The harbinger’s earlier words had not been idle boast. For all Loskin’s power, Adriel was convinced the archlich could not overcome the stygian Power alone. It was the entire reason Farren still stood by Loskin’s side. He was the instrument by which we would control the tide of the battle.

When the time was right, he would betray Loskin.

Hopefully by then, the harbinger would be dead and Loskin on his last legs. At that point, Adriel and I would enter the fray and put an end to the lich—once and for all.

That was the plan, anyway.

And I doubted everything would go perfectly. Still, for now, there was nothing for me to do but watch and wait. Reaching my destination, I slunk up to the main door.

✵ ✵ ✵

Even though Adriel’s villa was abandoned, it was well-kept. The possessed had maintained the mansion, but for some reason, no one else appeared keen to move in. Placing my ear against the door, I tapped quietly in the agreed pattern.

Silence.

Frowning, I raised my hand to knock again.

“Enter,” a familiar voice called from within.

Relieved, I pushed open the door and slipped inside. Adriel was sitting at a table strategically placed in the entrance foyer. Sipping tea, the exile stared out the oversized windows at the magical lightshow. “Pretty, isn’t it?” she remarked.

Turning around, I looked out myself. The sky bloomed with magical fire of all stripes: purple lightning, chromatic fireballs, meteor showers, howling rain, and ominous clouds of black.

I rolled my eyes. “That’s not how I would choose to describe it, but yes, it’s a spectacular display.”

Adriel set down her cup. “What kept you?” she asked with a smile.

“Nothing much,” I said, still maintaining my tone of false gaiety. “Only starting a war.”

Adriel chuckled, but only a moment later, her humor faded. “You did well to get us this far. I freely admit, I didn’t think you could pull it off.” She sighed. “But now it’s out of our hands.”

“What’s wrong?” I asked, spotting the troubled look that flitted across her face.

“Farren reports that the battle is not going well.”

I stared at her disbelievingly. “Really? Two lichs, a dozen elites, hundreds of possessed, a favorable battleground, and still the battle is not going well?”

Adriel winced. “When you put it that way, it doesn’t sound good. But yes, the possessed are losing. It seems all of us, Loskin included, underestimated the strength of this particular harbinger.”

I turned back to the door. “Should we help?”

Adriel shook her head. “Not yet. The battle is still young, and while momentum is with the harbinger right now, that could change at any point. Farren will warn us if things turn dire.”

I nodded reluctantly. I knew the two siblings had their own means of talking. It was not mindspeech, but a form of magical communication similar to the farspeaker bracelets I’d used before. It allowed the pair to communicate even when they were half a sector apart.

“Besides,” Adriel said, “I’m sure you don’t want to go out like that again.”

Glancing down, I realized I was still wearing the archlich’s robe—and face. Removing the black garb, I let the illusion wrapped around my face unravel.

Your facial disguise spell has dissipated.

“Better,” Adriel said approvingly. “Even after all these years, I can’t stand looking at that face.”

The pair had a history, I knew. Adriel had not filled me in on the details, and I had not pried. “So. What now?”

“We wait,” Adriel said simply, gesturing to the seat opposite her. “For however long it takes.”

Reluctantly, I sat. Waiting, especially in a situation like this, did not sit well with me, but I knew Adriel was right. If we intervened too early, either the archlich or the harbinger, if not both, would sense the trap closing around them and break off.

And that we couldn’t afford.

For a minute, I gazed out the window, but as dazzling as the spells being flung about were, I could get no real sense of how the battle was going and eventually turned back to stare at Adriel uncertainly.

There was something I’d been meaning to ask, a topic I was almost too afraid to broach, and telling myself we were in the middle of a battle was the only way I’d been able to stop the matter from playing on my mind. But now... we appeared at loose ends.

I licked my lips. “Since we seem to have some time on our hands, tell me, how did it go with Ghost?”

Adriel chuckled. “I’ve been wondering how long it would take you to bring that up.”

Now that I had broached the subject, impatience drove me on. “And?” I asked, leaning forward.

“Relax, Wolf. Everything went smoothly.” She smiled mysteriously. “Even better than expected, actually.”

I wasn’t quite sure what she meant by that but focused on what was important. “Where is she?”

Withdrawing an item from her pack, Adriel placed it on the table between us. “Here.”

My head jerked downwards.

The item on the table was my magister’s cloak. Only, it looked different now. The legendary item had been a dull black before, so faded it could’ve almost have been called dark gray. Now, it shone with a darkness so intense it was reminiscent of the void… or the darkness at the heart of a stygian seed.

I shuddered, a premonition of dread rising to the fore. “What’s wrong with it?”

“Nothing,” Adriel said dryly. “In fact, my handiwork has gone a long way in improving the cloak.”

I was barely listening, though. “And what do you mean Ghost is ‘here?’ I don’t sense her. Where is she?”

Adriel smiled that annoying smile again and pointed downwards at the cloak itself.

I finally took her meaning. “She is in there?”

The lich nodded. “I’ve transformed your cloak into a spirit vessel capable of housing Ghost.” She tilted her head. “That’s what we discussed, wasn’t it?”

“Sort of,” I muttered. “But you also said you were going to craft Ghost a new body, not just anchor her spirit in an object!”

“And I have,” Adriel said, her smile broadening. “The cloak is home to both Ghost’s spirit and her new body.”

My brows drew down. “What?”

“Ghost is inside. All of her. Body, mind, and spirit.” Adriel repeated patiently. “But don’t just take my word for it. Inspect the cloak and you see yourself,” she said pushing the item towards me.

Still doubtful, I raised my hand and touched the garment.

You have acquired the Cloak of the Reach, a unique soulbound spirit vessel crafted by the lich Adriel.

The Cloak of the Reach is a former legendary item forged anew using the crest feather of a mature phoenix, raw essence stolen from the void, and the spirit of the entity known as Ghost. Under the lich’s guidance, all the constituent parts have forevermore been bound together using the strongest of death magic spells.

The cloak both protects and hides the entity known as Ghost. She may at any time leave her shelter and manifest as a stygian pyre wolf, the fabric of whose form is woven into the cloak.

Due to the nature of the crafting ingredients employed in its making, the Cloak of the Reach is an indestructible soulbound artifact only usable by the player Michael.

In addition to housing the stygian pyre wolf Ghost, this item increases your Magic by +10 ranks, your nether resistance by +20% and your fire resistance by +20%. Note, the artifacts’ full properties can only be seen by you, its true owner.

I stared at Adriel, my eyes wide in shock. “A stygian? You’ve turned Ghost into a nether creature?”