Grand Game 371: The Cloak of the Reach (Patreon)

Adriel bobbed her head, looking too pleased with herself to pay much heed to my astonishment. “And not just any stygian. A stygian pyre wolf.”

Closing my eyes, I squeezed the bridge of my nose. “And what exactly,” I began slowly, “is a stygian pyre wolf?”

“I’m not entirely sure,” Adriel said, a quizzical look on her face.

My eyes snapped open.

“Ghost’s new form is unique,” Adriel continued blithely. “There’s never been such a creature as a stygian wolf before, much less a stygian pyre wolf! What Ghost will be capable of, I don’t know, and I admit I’m more than a little curious to find out.”

I groaned. The lich seemed to be too besotted by her creation to see the obvious downsides. “But a… stygian, Adriel? Really? What if the void calls to her? Or can somehow control her?”

Adriel shook her head. “You misunderstand, Michael. Ghost is not like other nether creatures. She is something this world has never seen before: a free stygian, one unbound by the void fathers. The trees cannot control her. The nether cannot call her. Her allegiance belongs only to you and House Wolf.”

“I see,” I said, still not sure what to make of Adriel’s assurances. “And what does Ghost think of her new form? Is she pleased?”

Adriel chuckled. “I would say so. But you can find out for yourself. Put on the cloak.”

Rising to my feet, I took the cloak up in my hands and studied it intently from all sides. On the outside, the garment was uniformly black, so dark it seemed to absorb the surrounding light.

It was the same on the inside too, except for one spot that would rest against my left breast. There, fiery red-gold lines had been stitched into the shape of a wolf’s face, and not just that of any wolf— but Ghost.

“It is a remarkable likeness,” I murmured.

“Thank you,” Adriel said, sounding pleased by the compliment. “I did my best.”

Touching the snarling wolf, I felt the heat coming off the fibers. “You made this using Sunfury’s feather?” I guessed.

“Correct,” Adriel said with a grimace. “Working with the phoenix’s feather was not easy, but it was worth it in the end. Which reminds me...” Drawing out another item, she placed it on the table. “This is yours.”

It was the central shaft of Sunfury’s feather.

“I couldn’t use it, but I’m sure a skilled enchanter will be able to do something with it.”

The entity, Adriel, has returned a phoenix’s feather shaft.

One of the items the lich had asked for back at her complex was Sunfury’s gift. At first, her request had caught me by surprise. I hadn’t even known leaving a soulbound artifact with anyone else was possible, but Adriel assured me it was.

As long as I voluntarily willed the item into her keeping, it would stay with her. She wouldn’t be able to wield the artifact, of course, but she would be able to employ it for crafting purposes. This, Adriel had told me, was a necessary allowance the Game made to enable crafters to work on players’ soulbound items.

“Thank you,” I said, returning the artifact to my backpack.

The other things I’d left with Adriel were my stygian ingredients, and all the seed fragments I’d collected. She had obviously used a good quantity of both. “What about the nether reagents?”

She waved aside my question. “None of that remains.”

I stared at her. “You used all of it?”

Nodding, she handed me another object.

You have acquired a hunter’s alchemy stone. Stored ingredients: 0 / 500.

“Right,” I muttered. Holding out the cloak, I prepared to equip it.

“Hold on,” Adriel said, raising a hand to stop. “I almost forgot, but before you put that on, there’s a few things you should know.”

Mid-motion, I paused. “Go on.”

“First and foremost, now that Ghost has a body, she is as mortal as any other creature.”

“I know—” I began.

Adriel cut me off. “No, you don’t. Even in a body as powerful as the stygian pyre wolf’s promises to be, Ghost is still only a level one creature. If she dies, her spirit will not return to the cloak, it will vanish forever into the afterlife.” She pinned me with a hard look. “I take it you don’t want that?”

I shook my head mutely. “I don’t.”

Adriel exhaled. “And neither does Ghost. Which is why you cannot let her manifest—”

“What? Not at all?” I blurted.

“Let me finish,” she said in mild exasperation. She waited a second to see if I would interrupt again. When I didn’t, she went on. “Like I was saying: you should not let Ghost manifest until you can make her your familiar.”

“My... familiar?” I asked in confusion. “But I’m not a mage!”

Adriel chuckled. “Oh, but you are.”

I stared at her, still puzzled.

“What do you think your third Class makes you? You told me so yourself: you’re a void mage. Granted, you may use your magic in an atypical fashion, but make no mistake; you’re a mage. And as far as the Game is concerned, that qualifies you for a familiar.”

“Alright... I can see how that’s true. So, what do I need to do?”

“It’s not complicated,” Adriel said with a shrug. “First, you will need Ghost’s consent, which will not be an issue. She wants this too. Second, you need to meet the Game’s requirements.”

“Which are?”

“One, owning an item with a bound creature—in this case Ghost—and two, possessing a mage Class.”

I smiled. “I meet both those requirements, don’t I?”

“You do,” Adriel agreed, smiling back. “So go ahead, put on the cloak, spend a Class point, and let’s see Ghost in her new form.

My grin faded. “I need a Class point?”

“That’s right,” Adriel confirmed. “Familiar binding is a Class trait that the Adjudicator makes available to every mage meeting the requirements, which you do. You will find it amongst the new benefits the moment you begin the Class upgrade process.” Seeing my expression, she paused. “What’s wrong?”

I opened my mouth to answer, but before I could, Adriel’s head whipped around in the direction of the open window.

✵ ✵ ✵

“What’s wrong?” I asked, throwing her own question back at her.

Adriel rose to her feet. “We have to move. The harbinger has just blown away half the vault, which has Loskin panicked.” She turned expressionless eyes on me. “Farren believes he is minutes away from calling for a retreat.”

Cursing, I began casting my buffs. “What about the harbinger?”

“He’s severely injured and shows no sign of backing off. But if Loskin grabs his phylactery and flees—”

“—we lose anyway,” I finished.

Adriel nodded, then her gaze fell on the cloak. “Put that on. It will be safest on you.” She paused. “Just remember what I said,” she warned.

“Got it. Don’t let Ghost manifest,” I said, shrugging into the cloak.

You have equipped the Cloak of the Reach, gaining +20% fire resistance, +20% nether resistance, and +10 Magic.

You have soulbound the Cloak of the Reach.

From this point onwards, this artifact cannot be wielded by any other, stolen, lost, or kept from your hands except by the strongest of enchantments.

“Prime!” an excited voice cried in my mind.

Despite our dire circumstances, my lips twitched upwards. With the cloak on, I could hear Ghost as clearly as ever before. Although, now, she was only a disembodied voice. I couldn’t see her spirit, only her mindglow. And earlier I hadn’t even seen that much. The cloak had to be masking both from sight—a good thing, I thought.

“Ghost,” I greeted. “It’s good to have you back.”

“I missed you too, Prime!” She paused, then went on more tentatively, “Did Adriel explain about… the familiar binding?”

“Could you not hear our conversation?”

“No. While I’m in the cloak, I’m blind to the world.”

“Oh,” I said, absorbing the implications of that. “Don’t worry, she told me all about it.”

“Great! So, will you perform the binding now?” she asked, almost quivering with eagerness at the thought. “Then I can show you my new form!”

“I’m sorry, Ghost. I can’t.”

“You don’t want to?” she asked in a small voice.

“It’s not that,” I assured her. “I just don’t have any Class points at the moment. But I promise I will get right to it when I can.”

“Thank you, Prime!” Ghost exclaimed, exuberant once again.

“You’re welcome,” I said with a smile. “But we’re about to head into battle. I’ll fill you in on the details later.”

“Oh, alright,” Ghost said, her consciousness fading from awareness.

Turning my focus outwards, I saw Adriel watching me patiently. “Chatted to her, have you?”

I nodded.  “And you’re right, she’s excited about the whole thing.”

“Good,” Adriel flexed her hands. “Now, let’s go. Farren is waiting.”

✵ ✵ ✵

The courtyard had undergone a radical transformation in the few short minutes since my absence.

The cobblestones were pockmarked by craters and deep furrows had been dug through the street. Some villas were smoking ruins, icicles rimmed the sides of others, and a few had been obliterated entirely.

Everywhere I looked, there were bodies and vacantly staring spirits. Dozens of possessed had perished, some decapitated, others turned to ash, and more looked as if they had been boiled alive.

Half of the vault’s stout walls were gone too, but that did not mean its contents were exposed. Lines of wards, so thick they were nearly visible, still shimmered in place of the missing stone.

The battle had not abated either, but it had degenerated into a stalemate. Loskin and Farren, accompanied by six elites—all spellcasters by the shield bubbles encapsulating them—faced off across the breadth of the courtyard against the lone harbinger. Lines of magic colored the air as the two opposing sides slung an endless array of spells at one another.

Like his foes, the stygian Power was wrapped in a shield. His, though, stank of the nether, and given the multitude of bodies lying outside the gray rim, it was just as toxic. The other surviving possessed, meanwhile, had fled to the fringes of the battle, only occasionally darting in to strike when they could. They, too, seemed to be primarily magic slingers.

I whistled in wordless appreciation of the devastation. “Is this what the war looked like?” I asked Adriel softly.

“This?” she scoffed. “This is child’s play compared to what the Primes and Powers did to each other and those unfortunate enough to get in their way.”

The two of us were hidden behind a villa on the southern edge of the courtyard. The vault was directly in front of us. The ground appeared deceptively empty of threat, but I knew the moment we broke cover we’d be spotted by the combatants.

Still, we would have to cross the distance—and soon.

According to Farren, the archlich had already passed a series of whispered commands to the closest of his confidence. Soon, he would retreat, presumably abandoning Farren and the other less favored possessed in the process.

“How do you want to do this?” I asked Adriel.

“I will go in first,” she said.

“You’re sure?” I asked, studying her through the shimmering haze of her defensive castings. For this battle, Adriel had sheathed herself in multiple layers of buffs, wards, and shields—something she had not bothered doing the one time I’d been foolish enough to attack her.

But then, this time around, Adriel did not have a near infinite supply of ‘bodies’ close by. Other than the one she wore now, the lich only had one other flesh golem in the canyon.

“You will need me to take the vault’s shield down,” Adriel said. “Once it falls, Loskin will respond immediately. I will hold his attention while you destroy the phylactery.” She glanced at me. “Do you remember its location?”

I nodded. “I do.”

“Good. Remember, whatever happens, you destroy that phylactery. Understood?”

“Understood,” I said grimly.

Saying nothing further, Adriel stepped out of cover and marched boldly across the street. No one saw her at first, and when they did, their reactions were not what I expected.

“Hey! Look there!”

“Who’s that?”

“It’s the exile, you moron. She’s back!”

“Let’s get her!”

“It’s the exile, idiot! You would do better to run. I’m outta here!”

“She is heading for the vault. Quick! Someone warn Loskin.”

“You do that. I’m getting out of here. Nozk was right. This is bad.”

In bemused wonder, I listened to the cries of the nearby possessed and unclenched my hands from the hilt of my blades. I had been half-expecting I would need to leap out and save Adriel from being mobbed. But it seemed that, despite her comparatively low level, Adriel commanded as much fear—if not more—than the harbinger and Loskin.

It seems I don’t know my ally as well as I thought I did.

“What’s that?” Ghost asked, responding to my inner musings.

“It’s Adriel. She has the possessed scared near witless.”

“I told you she would make a good friend,” Ghost said smugly. “Didn’t I?”

I smiled. “That you did.”

Adriel, meanwhile, had reached the vault. Ignoring the frantic shouts of the nearby possessed, the exile stretched out her arm.

Cold, gray fire leapt from her fingers to the vault’s glowing wards and when they met, the results were cataclysmic.

Adriel has cast Death’s righteous fury.

A tier 6 ward has been destroyed.

A tier 5 has been destroyed.

A tier 6 ward has been destroyed.

...

…

A kaleidoscope of colors exploded from the vault, so bright and harsh I had to squeeze my eyes shut for fear of being blinded. Nonetheless, the avalanche of Game messages scrolling through my mind left me in no doubt of the havoc Adriel was wreaking with a single spell.

Bloody hells, I thought, flabbergasted.

A second later, the fireworks show ended, and I dared to open my eyes again. The vault had vanished, completely obliterated in the wake of Adriel’s casting—as were its untold number of wards. But a new obstacle stood between us and our objective.

Loskin. The archlich had come.

Ignoring the sudden pounding of my heart, I rose from the crouch I’d unconsciously fallen into. The time had come to play my own part. Stepping out from behind the wall sheltering me, I crept towards the vault, plotting a wide arc around the two lichs facing off against one another.

A hostile entity has failed to detect you! You are hidden.

“Adriel,” the archlich rasped disdainfully.

“Loskin,” Adriel greeted evenly.

“You used a blood spell to destroy my wards? That was beyond foolish.”

A blood spell? I wondered, only half listening to the pair’s conversation as I advanced on my objective. Did he mean a blood memory?

“It smacks of desperation,” Loskin continued. “Are you desperate, Adriel?”

“You’re a fine one to talk, archlich,” Adriel sneered. “It’s a damnable mess your court is in.

A hostile entity has failed to detect you!

Sneaking a peek beyond the two lichs, I saw that the battle between the harbinger and the others still raged on, but the odds had turned even greater in the stygian’s favor with Loskin’s sudden withdrawal.

Only four elites remained standing with Farren. No longer launching any attacks of their own, the five were firmly on the defensive. All the nearby possessed had also scattered, even the few loudmouths that had advocated for attacking the exile.

Loskin’s eyes narrowed. “Is this all you’re doing, Adriel? Did you orchestrate the stygian beast’s arrival?”

Adriel laughed. “And what if I did? It’s high time someone ended your bloody rule.”

“And for the sake of that you will see what we built together destroyed?” the archlich asked disbelievingly.

“Yes!” Adriel spat angrily. “You’ve corrupted everything, Loskin. We—” she spread her arms to encompass all the possessed in the court—“no longer fight for justice, merely power. Power for your benefit. And that, I can allow no longer.”

“A bit melodramatic of you, isn’t it?” Loskin remarked, unbothered by her words. “But you were always one for moral grandstanding.”

“As you were for self-serving rhetoric,” Adriel retorted. For a split second, her gaze leaped from the archlich to sweep the empty streets. She couldn’t see me, of course. Still, I read the message in her gaze. Adriel was buying me as much time as she could.

How can you hope to defeat me now?” Loskin asked idly. “You’ve already expended your strongest spell.”

“As have you,” Adriel replied coolly. “Or don’t tell me you’ve been holding back against the harbinger all this time?”

Loskin had no response to that.

Adriel smiled. “You shall fall, Loskin. I will see to it, even if it’s the last thing I do.”

The archlich lips tightened. “We shall see.” Turning up his palms, he sent snaking lines of darkness racing towards Adriel.

The fight had begun in earnest. Fixing my gaze on my objective, I redoubled my pace.