“What a pile of goblin muck,” Dahlia whined. She angrily watched the Book of the Dead get sucked into her Feywoven Satchel, and undignified as it might be, she threw her arms around angrily, making big poofs of fairy dust.

“Ruff!” Humans are the worst! Mr. Disapoofer agreed from underneath the fairy. The big fluffy wolf lay on the guest bed of one of Lord Graystone’s finest guest rooms, with Dahlia sitting atop his head.

“Should I try to break the cipher, mistress?” Ruth asked. The spectral mage stood next to the bed.

“No, I’ll figure it out on my own. No mortal is going to outsmart me,” Dahlia fumed. The fairy had toyed with magic to see if she could break the cipher easily, but none of her attempts had paid off. Glimmer Warp told her translating the cipher would cost a whole FIFTY points, and she only had fifty-seven points at present. The cost seemed like a trap, a conspiracy by the gods to steal her Glimmer.

Dahlia turned her gaze to Ruth.

“Shade, stand next to Ruth,” Dahlia commanded.

The malevolent shadow flowed from under the bed and peeled itself off the floor into a standing position. The undead shade stood in stark contrast to Ruth. Shadows were incorporeal, made of negative energy and darkness. Few had even the limited sapience of Shade, which was a direct result of the spell which bound it to Dahlia’s control.

“Mistress?” Ruth asked nervously. Even the spirit mage could feel the dark nature of the other undead.

Dahlia didn’t answer. She couldn’t very well say everything would be okay, that would be a lie. This could very well destroy both Ruth and Shade, for all she knew. Not that Shade would be a real loss, but Ruth actually had thoughts, feelings, and destroying her for nothing would feel wasteful.

When Dahlia let her eyes unfocus the statistical information for each of her minions appeared. Shade was level ½, and Ruth was level 1. When she imagined activating Spirit Meld, a new set of statistics appeared between the two.

Name: Ruth

Race: Half-Elf Spirit

Level: 1.25

“Merge,” Dahlia commanded.

Neither Ruth nor Shade appeared to move, and yet both of their insubstantial bodies flowed into one another. Ruth’s luminous spirit form gained swathes of darkness, and her formerly human shaped digits turned into elongated claws.

“Do you feel different?” Dahlia asked.

“A little. I’m still me? I feel… hungry?” Ruth said nervously.

You have merged Shade [Shadow (1/2 level)] and Ruth [Mage Spirit Ally (1st level)]. Would you like to expend 3 1st level spell slots to elevate Ruth to level 2?

“Yes,” Dahlia said. She felt a great tide of magic exit her in the space of a breath, a taxing withdrawal that left her exhausted. The room swam around Dahlia, the world spun, and she had to swallow multiple times to prevent covering poor Mr. Disapoofer in rainbow vomit. Darkness swirled and churned around Ruth, until the mage’s form seemed a mixture of luminous positive energy and dark negative energy. The concentration of magic within the mage had grown significantly.

You have 1 1st level spell slot remaining.

Choose one of the following traits to bestow upon Ruth.

-Cinderbound Spectre: Ruth becomes insubstantial and gains all associated resistances.

-Flickering Fire: Ruth’s flames gain an otherworldly quality and can pass through physical barriers by taking miniature detours in another plane.

-Like Moths to Flame: Ruth’s spells now cause lingering damage over time to the target and near-by creatures as long as they remain ignited.

-Shadowfire Adept: Ruth gains the ability to mix flame and shadow, resulting in fire that does both fire and necrotic damage. A creature must have resistance to both necrotic and fire to resist Ruth’s spells.

-Vampiric Flame: Ruth’s flames gain a sinister red hue, and Ruth heals for some of the amount of damage caused by her fire. If at full health, this healing goes to Dahlia at half potency.

Dahlia wanted to shake her fist at the voice as it informed her of the options she had for Ruth. None of them were bad, in fact they were all good enough that Dahlia had a hard time eliminating even one of the choices. Yet eliminate four of them she must.

Shadowfire Adept was the first that fell to Dahlia’s imaginary pen. She brutally crossed it off the mental list. Fire was the most common element, and the world of necromancy was rife with negative energy. Her four major trials all involved necromantic legacies of some variety. While it would allow Ruth to push more damage, it had no other upsides. Like Moths to Flame seemed ideal, in a perfect kind of world, but Dahlia imagined it hurting herself, Mr. Disapoofer, or Xeras as much as her enemies. Flickering Fire seemed potent, but the last two traits were better in Dahlia’s estimation.

Vampiric Flames and Cinderbound Spectre both appealed to her. Wisp Heal provided a plentiful source of healing, and if she cast it as a higher-level spell its potency only increased. Vampiric flames would let Ruth be more self-sufficient, but so would Cinderbound Spectre. At the end of the day, Dahlia personally thought insubstantial trumped vampiric, and so Ruth gained more transparency to her form.

“What happened?” Ruth asked in confused wonder as she glowed and changed. The spirit ally’s body became entirely insubstantial and wispy, a dark shadow with flecks of flames showing through occasionally.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

“You gained a new power. You’re insubstantial now, like shadows. But you’re a fire mage. So, you’re like a shadow made from hot coals. Very fetching,” Dahlia said with a grin. While Ruth looked quite intimidating, Dahlia wanted to avoid any sort of existential crisis these changes might cause Ruth.

“Well, I do feel a lot more powerful now. Thank you, Mistress,” Ruth thanked the fairy. “Is Shade gone?”

“Yes, but I can summon a new one. In fact, it seems like I can summon a new spirit ally too.” Dahlia said with a hint of wonder, and she pulled her lute out of her shiny new pouch. She strummed the instrument to ensure it was in tune, and hummed a few bars.

“Tra la La, la, la,” Dahlia trilled to warm up her voice.

♫ “Hunter of the Verdant Glade,

Archer sharp, bow well-made,

Spirit of the watchful tree,

Come forth and stand, ally to me.

Beneath the stars, where silence holds sway,

Through twilight’s veil and moonlit rays,

Your steps are swift, your aim is true,

A guardian born from natures hue.

Winds that whisper and shadows that call,

Rise from glades where no sunlight falls,

Strike with purpose, swift and free,

Hunter, heed my melody!” ♫

The plucked strings of the lute created a gentle melody that Dahlia’s tiny but powerful voice overshadowed. Each word had delicate enunciation, each note a purpose that wove word, sound, and magic into Spellsong. Motes of power always flowed around Dahlia in the form of fairy dust, yet when she performed like this, they congealed in the air as if forming an ooze. More and more motes of power flowed into the form of the spirit—a male elf this time, with a spectral bow upon his back.

Dahlia hummed a few last notes. Her lips twisted into a self-satisfied smirk at the sense of silver-gold notes she reached. Her skill was improving. After a mental pat on the back, she regarded her newest minion.

It seemed like once she changed one of her minions, they no longer counted as being summoned by the baseline spell. A triumphant look dominated Dahlia’s face as she surveyed her new hunter ally.

Your Hunter Ally has gained the trait Shadow Spotter!

When you attack the same target you each deal bonus damage. While summoned, you gain a bonus to perception and awareness of hidden enemies.

“What’s your name?” Dahlia asked. The sensation of a new person, new emotions, new thoughts kindled in the back of Dahlia’s mind. While Ruth was a warming, loving presence in Dahlia’s mind this newcomer was like a babbling brook—it set itself to the background well, happy to observe in silence.

“I was named Lorien in my life, Mistress,” the spirit answered.

“That’s a nice name,” Dahlia complimented the elvish spirit. “Welcome to the Ebon Chorus, serve me well.”

“The Ebon Chorus?” Shockingly, it was the silent Gloamknight, Xeras, who asked about the name.

“Gloam, Twilight, Death, Song—The Ebon Chorus is what I shall call you all as a group. I think it has a nice feel to it,” Dahlia said.

Xeras nodded with approval and resumed his silence. If not for all the magical green energies about the Gloamknight one might take him for a wooden sculpture.

“I wonder what else can I do,” Dahlia murmured. She considered merging the Hornets with Lorien.

Merge Spirit Hornet Swarm with Spirit Ally (Lorien)? Merging would result in a level 1.5 Spirit Ally Hunter. Expenditure of a 2nd level spell slot would bring Lorien to level 2.

Dahlia chuckled and grasped the swarm and Lorien with her magic. She slammed the two together, stuck her tiny hand into the miasma that was two spiritual beings, and began reshaping the soul while pushing the raw magic equivalent of a second level spell into the spirit.

…….

The voice managed to make an insulted silence dominate Dahlia’s mind for a moment, before she refocused onto the task at hand. That Dahlia would do this herself, instead of allowing the strange voice and its powers to do the work of reshaping the souls of her minions seemed ridiculous to the fairy. In her mind, she stuck her tongue out at whoever, or whatever, that strange voice was. They were her minions, and no one else would be laying their hands on them.

Dahlia only made minor improvements to the aesthetic of her one-time forest-elf spirit as she enhanced him with the Swarm. Lorien’s thoughtful calm tempered the aggression of the swarm, and the graceful archer naturally adjusted to the frantic speed of the swarm.

Congratulations, you have successfully Soulshaped Lorien [Spirit Ally Hunter(2)]. Lorien has gained the trait Stinging Fury.

Stinging Fury: The swarm heightens Lorien’s accuracy, and each attack is accompanied by a spectral hornet. Each hornet will continue to sting the target until the target dies or flees Lorien’s effective range.

Lorien’s spiritual form seemed predominantly the same, but his quiver had become a hive.

Dahlia herself panted and wiped sweat from her brow. Two huge expenditures of magic in a row had exhausted her.

“I’m tired,” Dahlia said sleepily.

“I feel reborn, Mistress. Thank you,” Lorien bowed from the hips in a show of deep respect.

“Mmhm,” the sleepy fairy said with a smile. Then she settled more comfortably against the warm, luxurious fur of Mr. Disapoofer.

“Keep watch, Xeras,” Dahlia said between huge yawns.

“Ruff!” I’ll keep you safe! The Warp Wolf answered before Xeras could.

The Gloamknight contented himself with a nod of agreement directed at Mr. Disapoofers.

Dahlia slipped into a dream, and found herself in her favorite spot in all the Soulweald. Lady Nyxaria’s tea table.

“Level 4 already? You’re doing very well, Dahlia,” Lady Nyxaria said. It was rare to get a freely given compliment from the ArchFey of the Soulweald.

“I am pretty amazing,” Dahlia agreed and happily sipped at the Moonlit Berry sweet tea. The luke warm, rich berry taste felt like a gentle breeze that restored her energy and rekindled the sharpness of her mind.

“You managed to beat Deborah to level 3. She’ll be quite vexed when she learns you’ve taken the role of Soulshaper, now she’ll have to choose a different specialty.” Lady Nyxaria winked. She’d always enjoyed instigating competition between the two fairies.

“Hah, sucks to be her. She’s too aggressive to be a Soulshaper! Where’s the old dumb human?” Dahlia wondered.

Lady Nyxaria seemed surprised by the question and gave Dahlia a more direct gaze. After a moment, the Archfey laughed.

“He was called to answer to the pantheon of Nantes. It seems they were not entirely pleased with his invitation of Fey back into their world. Two little fairies and one of the gods of Nantes quails in fear and terror.” Nyxaria laughed mockingly, but her eyes shone with malice. Malice directed not at Dahlia, but at the gods of Nantes.

Dahlia was glad she wasn’t one of them. Lady Nyxaria’s cruelty knew depths even deeper than the heights reached by her radiant benevolence.

“Why aren’t there Fey in Nantes?” Dahlia asked.

“We all left that world centuries ago. A great war broke out between the fey and the mortal’s gods, fought through their proxies—the humanoid races of Nantes. In the end, we abandoned their world, and Horus raised a barrier to prevent our return—unless a native of Nantes invited us back. Where a god closes a door, always count on a mortal to push it open again a scant century or three later.” Nyxaria’s laughter mocked the stupidity of mortal kind.

“Why did they have a problem with us?” Dahlia asked with wide eyes.

“You tell me next time we have tea,” Nyxaria said.

Dahlia groaned. The voice the ArchFey had used was the same tone she had used when assigning work, chores, and other unpleasant tasks to her disciples.

The Soulweald faded away. Dahlia wept for her unfinished cup of tea.