Grand Game 489: The Nature of Pacts

There was no point in attempting to craft a Pact that stopped the others from betraying me or the House, so I didn’t try.

Any Pact could be broken, after all.

Safyre was living proof of that. And while the consequences for breaking a Pact were dire—which, again, Safyre could attest to—if a player was sufficiently motivated or tortured, they would break their Pacts.

So, instead, I tried for a softer approach and bound the others in a manner that should prevent them from ever falling into a situation where they were forced into betraying their convictions.

You have sealed a Pact with Anriq, Teresa, Terence, and Safyre. In exchange for a place on the inner council of your House and being privy to its secrets, the four have agreed to let you direct their movements from here on, limiting the sectors they may visit. This Pact may be terminated at any time but only at your discretion. 

You have 5 / 20 active Pacts.

It took only a few minutes to complete the agreements between me and the others. The moment I was done though, Teresa picked up on an anomaly. 

“What about her?” she demanded.

Looking where she pointed, I saw that Teresa was gesturing at Nyra. Finding herself the subject of the other young woman’s ire, Nyra scowled. “What about me?”

“Why aren’t you being bound by a Pact?” Teresa retorted.

I sighed. It was just like Teresa to notice something like this. Knowing I had to intervene before things could escalate, I said, “Nyra’s my follower. There is no need to bind her further.”

Teresa’s mouth opened in an ‘O’ of surprise. It did not stop her from probing further however. “Why does she get to be your follower and we don’t?” 

“There are reasons. Valid reasons.”

Teresa squinted at me suspiciously. “I thought you said no more secrets?”

I pinched the bridge of my nose, striving for patience. 

“Perhaps if we gave Michael a chance to explain?” Safyre suggested.

Inclining my head in thanks to her, I turned back to Teresa. “What do you see when you study Nyra’s spirit signature?”

“Hmm, just a Shadow Mark.”

“She has a Wolf mark too,” Anriq added, sounding both envious and curious at the fact.

“That’s right,” I said. “She has both those Marks. But what none of you see is her third Mark: the Mark of Michael.”

Terence laughed. “Mark of Michael? Good one.” Spotting my unsmiling face a moment later, his humor faded. “It’s not a joke?”

I shook my head. “No. It’s not. When you give your allegiance to a Power, you become Marked for all the Game to see. Which is why I did not suggest follower Pacts for you and Teresa.”

“Why don’t we see your Mark on her then?” Anriq asked.

“Because I have a secret blood trait that conceals my followers’ allegiance—but only if they themselves are of Wolf.”

He sat up straighter. “Then there is no reason for me not to become your follower.”

I glanced at Adriel. “Would I be able to pass on the secret blood trait to him?”

She shook her head adamantly. “You won’t. Like I said earlier, his Marks have suppressed his bloodlines. For all intents and purposes, the werewolf is not a Wolf.” Her lips turned down. “A strange contradiction, I know.”

Anriq’s shoulders sagged but he made no further complaint.

I nodded, in light of everything I’d learned about the ancients, I was not at all surprised by Adriel’s response. I knew Anriq was disappointed, and despite what Adriel had said, I considered him a Wolf. Still, the werewolf could not become my follower, not until such time as the need for secrecy had passed. 

I turned back to Safyre. “I think we can continue.”

She nodded. “The first order of business is for Michael and—” her gaze slid in the lich’s direction—“Adriel to relate their stories.” She turned to me. “If you will begin, Michael?”

I marshaled my thoughts. “This is going to be a long tale, so brace yourself,” I warned. 

“It began with the stygian overlord and the river…”

✵ ✵ ✵

It took me and Adriel the better part of the day to lay out the events of the last month and a half. 

My promise to the others had not been an idle one, and I didn’t hold out, not even about New Haven. My companions already knew about the portal to Draven Reach so there was little point in concealing the city’s existence. I left out nothing else either, not of what I’d done nor my plans and aspirations for the future. If I fell, they would be the ones to take up the mantle of the ancients. 

And I was not about to let them do so unprepared.

Unsurprisingly, my tale evoked strong emotions and reactions from my companions on more than one occasion.

…

“A Wolf envoy?” Anriq exclaimed. “What’s he like?”

…

“How old did you say you are again?” Teresa asked, looking aghast at Adriel.

…

“So many dungeons lost to the nether…” Safyre rued. “What have the new Powers done?”

…

“Wolfmen, that’s more than passing strange,” Terence mused. “What do you think the chances are of creating, uhm… cat-men?”

…

"A phoenix!" Teresa exclaimed, her eyes shining. “I want to meet one!”

…

“Possessed…” Terence muttered, throwing Adriel a sidelong glance. “They sound like abominations.”

…

“An entire city,” Safyre marveled. “Exiled and living in a dungeon. How is that possible?”

…

Snow listened intently to everything I said, but I knew much of my tale was beyond his understanding. Still, he grasped the gist, and more importantly, what it meant for the arctic wolves. 

“War. Coming,” he said.

“War is coming,” I agreed.

“We. Ready. Support. Protector.”

“Thank you, Snow,” I murmured.

The dire wolves, of course, understood everything, yet they had held themselves steadfastly silent during my tale, and it was only as I ran down, that they stirred.

“Ah, Michael,” Aira said. “I fear for the Pack. Trouble lies ahead for us.”

“Not just for the Pack,” Sulan muttered. “For all wolfkind.” She shook her head. “Guardians. Lost Primes. Stygian Powers. There is little that I fear in this world, scion. But your tale scares me, I admit.”

“This is not a task the Pack is equipped to face,” Leta added worriedly. “Protecting Wolf’s line is one thing, but this… this is beyond us.”

“Perhaps, it is,” Duggar said. “But it is not a task we will shy from. We have a debt to repay. We will follow the commands of the Primes.” His gaze met mine. “Both the old and the new.”

“Whatever it takes,” Sulan said in agreement.

I ducked my head. “I thank you for the support, Duggar. But this is not your fight. I will not put the Pack in harm’s way and will do my best to shield you.”

“Which is why despite everything, we will follow you,” Leta growled.

I looked at the elder in surprise. She was the last one I’d expected to voice any kind of support for me.

Leta snorted. “Oh, wipe that foolish expression off your face, or I will begin to believe Sulan right and you are a pup.” She shook her head. “How can humans be so ignorant?”

Duggar chuckled. “What Leta is trying to say, Protector, is that we will fight for you and on your behalf.” His mindvoice grew serious. “And yes, we will die for you, too. But wolves are no strangers to death. For the Pack to survive, some must die. That is the way.”

“That has always been the way,” Sulan pronounced.

“But,” I protested, “It is not necessary for—” 

“No buts,” Aira interjected gently. “The others are right. We know you will not spend our lives foolishly. Which is why we will follow you.”

Duggar rose to his feet, as did Snow—almost as if the other alpha’s motion was a cue he’d been waiting for. 

“The Primes of old gave their lives for us,” Duggar said as he and Snow padded to a stop before me. “We will do no less for you.” The pair lowered their heads.

“This is really not—” I began.

“Shh,” Leta commanded. “The Pack has decided.”

Images flashed in my mind, as Duggar and Snow conveyed their intent—the dire wolf alpha communicating through pictures and not words for Snow’s sake—and a Game alert unfurled.

Duggar and Snow have offered you their allegiance. Do you wish to accept their oaths on behalf of the Forerunners faction?

I sighed, realizing the futility of trying to dissuade the pair. Nevertheless, I gave it one more shot. “Are you sure about this?” 

“We are,” Duggar replied, speaking for both of them. Closing my eyes, I laid my hand on each wolf in turn.

You have accepted the arctic wolf and dire wolf Packs into the Forerunners faction. As non-players, the wolves are free to break their pledges at any time and without consequences. As are you. However, until such time as the Forerunners disavow the Packs—or vice versa—they will be considered the faction’s sworn soldiers, and their actions will reflect on it.

I opened my eyes to find my human companions staring at me. 

“What was all that about?” Safyre asked.

Sadly, none of my companions could communicate directly with the wolves, lacking both telepathy and beast tongue. Another thing we will have to find a solution for going forward, I suppose.

“The wolves have just joined the Forerunners,” I murmured. The two packs had grown in my absence, the arctic wolves substantially so. Being dungeon creatures, the Adjudicator himself saw to it that their numbers were replenished by bringing in new wolves from outside. 

The net effect of which was that the arctic wolves now numbered two hundred overtaking the dire wolves whose numbers had remained stable at one hundred and thirty.

Another three hundred and thirty recruits for the faction. Not bad.

“Then we should join as well,” Teresa said, stepping forward.

I eyed the four. There was no reason for them not to join the faction, it would not alter their spirit signatures in any way, and I saw no other reason to object. “Alright, let’s get it done.”

✵ ✵ ✵

You have accepted the players, Safyre, Terence, Anriq, and Teresa into the Forerunners faction. 

A few minutes later, we were done, and everyone had reseated themselves. Unsurprisingly, Adriel had not seen a need to join the faction expecting as she did for her time on the council to be short. 

“So, now that that is all out of the way, what’s next?” Terence asked.

I held up my hand. “Before we move on, there is something else to discuss.” When I’d related my story, there was one topic I’d not broached. Now the time had come to do so. 

“I said no secrets, and I meant that.” Withdrawing a slim object from my bag of holding, I held it up. “It’s time to discuss House Death.”

Adriel stilled. “What do you mean, ‘discuss House Death?’”

Not answering her directly, I placed the sealed envelope in her hands. “From Farren,” I said without further explanation.

There was no mistaking Adriel’s consternation as she took the envelope from my hands, nor her trepidation when she saw the numbers—coordinates to House Death’s home sector—stenciled on the front. Breaking open the seal, the lich withdrew the letter inside and began to read.

I could see the questioning looks in the others’ eyes, but I ignored them, my gaze fixed on Adriel as she grew steadily paler. “No,” she breathed, “no, no. NO.”

Unbidden, Ghost rose to her feet, and lay her head in the lich’s lap. Adriel buried her hands into the pyre wolf’s coat, clinging to her as if to a lifeline. Her gaze rose to mine. “Did you know… about this?”

“I haven’t read the letter.” I exhaled heavily. “But Farren told me the gist before we left Draven’s Reach. He made me promise not to give it to you until…” I broke off, searching for the right way to put it.

“Until too late?” she asked in a voice stripped of emotion.

I nodded wordlessly. That was not exactly what I’d promised, and technically, I was not breaking my word to the archlich, but I’d kept this secret too long already and it was time to speak openly.

“I’ll kill him for this,” Adriel said tonelessly.

She was joking, of course. At least I hoped she was. 

“This changes things, you realize,” I said, searching for something to say. But only a second later, I wished I could take back the words. 

Saying Farren’s revelation had changed things was an epic understatement. Of course, it had. Right now, Adriel’s world must feel like it was crumbling all around here, and here I was uttering trite nonsense. “Sorry, that was stupid of me,” I muttered.

But Adriel didn’t appear to hear. 

She stared unseeing past me, her eyes cold and her back unbending, and for a moment, I thought she would deny the undeniable, but duty still held her. Duty to a dead House. 

“It does change things,” she agreed, shoulders sagging. “It changes everything. Damn him.”

My gaze flickered across the room. All the others had turned away—even the ever-inquisitive Teresa. Knowing something was wrong, but not understanding the cause, they were doing what they could to give Adriel and me some semblance of privacy. 

Which they would not have to do if you picked a more appropriate time to raise this.

I lowered my gaze. “I’m sorry, Adriel. I should have waited before bringing this up.”

“No,” she said sharply. “Delaying bad news never helps.” She paused. “What you should have done was tell me sooner.”

I hung my head further. She was right.

Adriel sighed. “But this is not your fault, and it’s wrong to blame you.” She held out her hand, offering me the letter. 

I glanced from the parchment to her face. “Are you sure…? There’s nothing, uhm, personal in it?”

Something akin to a wry smile touched her lips. “In a letter from Farren? Definitely not.”

Taking her at her word, I flipped open the letter and began to read.

Dear Adriel, 

What I have to say is going to be hard, and something I’m sure you don’t want to hear, but for the sake of Death, hear me out. There is no easy way to say this, so I'll say it plain.

You need not remain a lich. 

There, I said it. And no, dear sister, I do not joke. I’ve preserved your body using a spell—you know the one—that will let it outlast even the guardians. Until you get to it, your body will remain untouched, and unageing.

I’ve hidden it away too, of course, somewhere no one would ever find.  And if you think but for a moment, I'm sure you will realize where that is.

‘Why me?’ I can hear you asking. ‘Why did he choose me?’ 

But you know the answer to that too, don’t you? You were always the best of us—in every sense. With you at the helm, Death can only grow stronger. However, I am not blind to your own desires in this matter, nor do I dismiss them. I understand, I truly do.

Which is why I’ve an alternative to suggest. Remember Stayne? The ascendant dead the scion informed us about?

He may be a viable candidate for the House if you believe yourself... unfit. You’re not, trust me, but I will leave the decision in your capable hands. 

Death must rise again. Whether by your hand or another’s, it must. Our House’s ancient debts demand nothing less. I know I need not speak to you of duty. Yours has always been stronger than mine. 

And I as much as I hate doing this to you, I will rest easier knowing Death’s fate is yours to decide. Do what you think is right, as I know you always will.

Your brother in death and life, 

Farren

I perused the letter then turned it over, but it was blank on the other side. “He is a bit scant on the details, isn’t he?”

Adriel laughed, sounding a bit more like her old self. “That’s Farren. He always did enjoy making people read between the lines.”

An answering smile flickered on my face, but only for a moment. I didn’t want to be the bearer of more bad news, but nor did I want Adriel to give false hope. “I would not advise leaving Death’s fate to Stayne. I can’t claim to have known him well, but I believe him to be wholly Erebus’ creature.”

Adriel sighed. “I believe you. But I don’t think Farren meant me to take his suggestion seriously. He mentioned Stayne as a reminder only.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“Where there is one Death scion,” she said softly, “there may be more.”

I ruminated over that for a second. More Death scions? Alive—sort of, anyway—and working for Erebus? 

If that were true, it would explain a few things. Things like the Awakened Dead’s sudden rise in the Game, which Loken had attributed to the dungeon they’d discovered. 

But what if it was not just the dungeon that accounted for the Awakened Dead’s success? What if Erebus did have more scions in his pocket? 

Loken had to suspect the truth. He was too canny not to. And it would be just like the trickster to mislead me about the source of his interest in the Awakened Dead. Was the Death scion—or scions—the real reason ‘Hamish’ had been spying on Erebus?

Huh. Interesting. 

Answers would have to wait, though. “I see,” I murmured, dismissing my musings. 

Turning back to the letter, I began to read it again, but stopped before the end as something else caught my eye. “What does Farren mean by ‘ancient debts?’ It seems an odd turn of phrase.”

“It was a House motto of sorts, one shared by many Houses,” Adriel replied, her emotions under tight rein again. Nothing disrupted the lich’s equilibrium for long. She glanced at me. “Including House Wolf’s actually.”

My brows rose higher. “Care to explain?”

“I will.” She scanned the room and noticed the others’ turned-away faces. “But I think you should reconvene the meeting first. This is something everyone should hear.”