Coop felt pride swell in his chest as he watched the horizon from the bow of Windchaser. He balanced himself against the breeze with one hand holding a taut rope while his other shielded his eyes from the sea spray. His injuries wouldn’t prevent him from eagerly anticipating the sight of his home.
The old ship cut through the ocean at a steady pace, pushed forward by the phantom pirates that maintained the sails. In the distance, Ghost Reef’s stone walls slowly climbed into view, boldly depicting a safe harbor against the challenges of the assimilation. There was no subterfuge in its design. Instead, it introduced itself with a sense of fearless resilience and durability. Coop admired the core of their settlement as it drew nearer.
The fortress existed in what felt like the middle of nowhere. The rolling waves that defined the deep ocean seemed to be tamed by the presence of the massive structure as it sprouted up from the surface. The calmer waters in the area gave the impression that the fort itself was suppressing the whitecaps over a wide swathe of the sea with its very presence. The surrounding reefs may not have been visible, but their influence was impossible to miss as they subdued the wild ocean from beneath the surface. They were an integral part of the atmosphere around Ghost Reef, though they weren’t as in-your-face as the stone fortifications.
Anyone not expecting to find the island would certainly be surprised by its existence. However, the most observant seafarers would have had a few hints that something was nearby, even before they discerned the main feature that was the old stone fortress. The reef created an oasis of calm on the turbulent sea, and the lighthouse was a beacon that stood tall while giving off a slight cool-green aura. Anyone watching the horizon while traveling the seas would have noticed one of the two landmarks, the reef or the lighthouse, before the imposing fort could be spotted. Either feature would be apparent, given that the alternative was a long period of steady ocean swells that were almost entirely unchanging in their hypnotizing rhythm.
On the other hand, before even the most experienced sailors had the opportunity to approach the islands and piece together the clues of its proximity, they would be detected by the residents themselves. There were constant sentinels on the surrounding waves.
As Coop’s ride entered the settlement’s territory, a dozen sailing ships were going about their business, navigating the shallow reef to and fro, while another dozen patrolled the ocean beyond. The patrols had been the first to spot Windchaser, miles outside of the settlement’s territory, as it brought the Champion back to his settlement.
Flocks of seagulls trailed after the ships, and sailors shouted and rang bells as they communicated amongst themselves using their simple coded language. Individual phantoms were hanging from ropes beyond the edges of the decks and waving hats toward the new arrival, unconcerned with the danger of falling overboard. While they searched the settlement’s perimeter for the lost or the wicked, they almost exclusively found friends instead.
Ghost Reef didn’t seem much like the old and unused installation that it had been before the assimilation began. Back when a single elderly caretaker maintained the crumbling stone fortress and the only visitors were tourists and park rangers, it had felt more like an archaeological site surrounded by fascinating nature. With the introduction of mana, it had been revitalized into a bastion of resilience. The bustling port filled with ghost ships was the most significant transformation.
By the time Coop’s vessel approached the dock, Windchaser had gathered a convoy of new ships that were unfamiliar to him. They sailed in a loose formation, like an honor guard escorting their prize back to port. Windchaser was the only ship that needed to follow the channel through the reef, and the new ghost ships displayed their functionality by crossing the dangerous shallows without fear.
The pirates were absolutely pumping the ships out, so none of them were named ships that Coop had seen before. All the extra vessels required extra crews, and those crews needed experience. In an effort to bring the sailors up to speed, they were constantly on the move, traveling between outposts and settlements, patrolling the seas, and otherwise staying active while on duty. It was their method of grinding. The phantoms could even gain levels by simply doing their jobs, though human experience was a bit less defined. It wasn’t like they gained nothing from practicing their new jobs.
Coop felt like he needed to adjust his perspective and give the pirates more credit. They weren’t really pirates anymore. They were Ghost Reef’s Navy. Not to mention that the crews had evolved to include as many humans as phantoms. No matter how he looked at it, the Tempest Fleet was thriving in the post-mana world.
The expanding navy wasn’t the only immediately obvious aspect of growth around the settlement. Coop could tell, even before making landfall, that the residents had been busy. There were groups grinding Primal Constructs in different areas, gaining levels within the safety of settlement territory.
Coop suspected that some of the more adventurous groups of residents had even expanded their hunting grounds beyond where he had explored. They were pioneering grind areas with monsters that had only been suppressed by the native animals after making brief appearances during the siege event, untouched by Coop himself.
He felt a twinge of jealousy that others were breaking ground before him, but he couldn’t be everywhere at once, and the assimilation waited for no man. It was certainly better to have someone testing the monsters instead of waiting for him to have the free time to do it himself. Having others explore the monsters might even make things easier for him in the long run since they would be providing him with dossiers on each variant. The thought of streamlining his grinding made him smile in spite of himself.
The walls of the fortress had been reinforced, first with mana, then with further improvements that could have only come from Jones, and most likely with the help of the reticent stonemason. Balor may not have been keen to make alterations on his own, but under the influence of Jones, he was surely more amenable to following human blueprints. The battlements had been recreated. What were once incomplete and abandoned fortifications, covered in sand and debris, had been reimagined by Jones. Only the old caretaker would know what the original architects had ambitiously planned in order to finish them.
Solid stone caught the sunlight all the way around the perimeter, thick enough to repel even the strongest, magically enhanced, cannon fire, and providing some angled cover for the wall patrollers. Rather than completely pave the rooftop ramparts, strips had been defined, leaving sections of what nature had claimed over the decades, but establishing clear lanes for the phantoms to patrol.
The open portals that marked each floor had also been reinforced, though in their case it was through the addition of more equipment. The cannons had large metal shields that would protect the wide openings from any return fire and prevent the types of enemies that climbed into the gaps from finding any space.
Layered defenses had been a major factor in creating Coop’s own survivable build. He admired the fort’s application of a similar concept. No single layer would be exposed and pushed past its limit while the other layers remained.
Beyond the walls, the upgraded apartment buildings poked their upper floors beyond the protective barrier, though an unseen turtle-shaped mana shield also defended the entire town. It really looked like a burgeoning city protected by an enormous fortified wall. Coop could see a potential city skyline taking shape, but they weren’t nearly to the size that it would be so prominent.
More birds than ever before flew across the courtyard, finding roosts among the taller buildings. The apartments hadn’t only expanded the residential population capacity, they had also attracted new flocks to take advantage of the elevated real estate.
Phantoms crossed the gaps on the walls as they kept an eye on the ocean, but it wasn’t all so serious. Coop easily spotted several phantoms that were lounging on top of ramparts, casually performing their duties in a manner that was more befitting the vacation vibes of the tropical island, resting their feet over the edges as they savored the sun, or tossing crumbs to passing birds.
Coop was happy to see the island grow, but he was even happier for it to maintain the personality that made it so attractive in the first place. The last thing that someone like Coop would want was for his home to transform into an austere stronghold: rigid and strict. The relaxed atmosphere was at least as important to the welfare of the residents as the robust fortifications were essential to keeping them safe. At the very least, it was true for him personally, and he figured he was never completely alone in his feelings, whether it was obvious or not. He now had first-hand experience with how people were living outside of his island, and many were still experiencing an apocalypse full of misery and struggle while rapidly losing hope in surviving to the end. Coop believed Ghost Reef should provide the complete opposite in atmosphere. They wouldn’t scrape by, they would thrive.
As Sharkbait guided them to the docks with careful adjustments of the wheel, Coop was glad to see pirates playing card games around barrels and moving in groups back and forth from the open main gate of the fort while shuttling food and drinks, relaxing with the self-assured confidence that they would stand strong in the face of any challenges. The Admiralty’s doors were propped open as people exited in large groups that could only be entire classes. Many had taken note of the arrival of Windchaser, and they had come to see who the ship brought this time.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
The handful of Corozal residents that scouted the settlement had already returned to Belize, but they had spent a few days being treated like guests of honor in Ghost Reef. Coop better understood the glowing reviews they had brought back to the profession masters that stayed behind while he was grinding. His perspective of Ghost Reef was a bit dated in comparison, still remembering how it was when the number of residents was closer to 20 than 20,000. It wouldn’t be a surprise if a few of the profession masters picked up and moved to the island once they made up their minds.
Coop smiled as he watched the ship be secured to the dock. There was nothing like a homecoming after some time spent away. At least that’s what Coop was telling himself as he gingerly disembarked from the ship.
When he had arrived in Corozal after almost a full day of limping through first the savannah, then the jungle, destroying Elite Ruin Nebulas with his phantasms along the way, he had withheld the extent of his injuries from the townspeople. He didn’t want them to lose what little faith they had in his ability to bring down Chakyum, so he took his leave with some convenient excuses. Ghost Reef needed to be upgraded and the short break would give those searching out priests some extra days to identify their strongholds. He was setting himself up for some busy days when he returned to Belize, but he would be ready soon enough.
“Do you need a hand?” Jones teased, though there was a hint of real concern in his voice as he watched Coop limp back to shore.
“I’m alright.” Coop responded, though he put his hand on Jones’s shoulder to balance once he made it to the solid ground. “Just a bunch of debuffs I need Madison to help me with.”
“Oh, you might end up with more than debuffs after seeing her.” Jones laughed wryly.
“Uh oh.” Coop froze, abruptly remembering how he had dumped all of the curse victims on the Medical Center while neglecting to even consult her, then traipsed off without so much as an apology. There had been a lot going on, but he doubted she would accept such a weak excuse.
“She’s all bark.” Jones reassured him. “Mostly.” He added out of the side of his mouth, damaging Coop’s already waning confidence.
Sunny looked on, tilting his head at the word bark, and evidently concerned about Coop’s state. He had suspended his overflowing excitement when he noticed Coop’s state and was carefully sniffing at the Champion while making sure not to jostle him. It took a few moments of confirming that Coop was fine before Sunny was content. The confirmation triggered the bout of excitement he had been holding back and sent the dog to the moat bridge with an enthusiastic bark and back to the port to lick Coop several times. He kicked up splashes of fine sand as he went back and forth and left the pirates laughing at the infectious display of unbridled joy.
Coop ran a hand through his hair, watching the retriever sprint down the sand paths for another round. He tried to think of a last minute alternative to invoking Madison to heal his debuffs. Maybe Elder Olani would be able to help, or one of Maeve’s baths? Sojjah, the alchemist, might even be able to whip up some elixirs that could do the job.
He might need an excuse first, so he sought more information from Jones, treating the encounter vaguely like a potential boss fight. “Is she still busy with the curse removal rituals? I probably shouldn’t interrupt her.”
Jones chuckled. “Oh no, she’s quite finished with all of that. She got the whole process down to a science before long. She was curing 10 of them a day by the end.” He shook his head at the memory of the factory-like efficiency. “Emmanuel even received a new title, ‘Cursebreaker,’ after the 100th ritual.” He added.
“Were there any problems?” Coop wondered, gauging just how apologetic he should be when he ran into her.
Jones shook his head. “Nothing worth noting. Only three escaped the influence of the blood curse completely. The rest are like me; scarred and altered, but potentially empowered, in a manner of speaking. I’ve taken them under my wing, but you should probably have some words with the three lucky ones. They could be useful in their own way. They were the most suspicious of our intentions at first. It was quite a shock to be awoken in a completely different place than they remembered.”
“Looks like I can’t get a break, even when I’m home.” Coop grumbled, earning a raised eyebrow from Jones. The old caretaker knew Coop well enough to guess that he would be finding time to take breaks no matter what he was up to, even if it was hunting down cultists in an unfamiliar jungle.
When Coop entered the fort, passing beneath the polished metal gate while admiring the repairs like a tourist, Jett greeted him with a meow. The black cat had simply manifested, completely out of nowhere, and trotted up to Coop excitedly.
However, when she got close and he kneeled to say hello with an outstretched hand, she recoiled and gave him several good smacks with the pad of one of her paws while the fur on her back stood straight up. She was definitely unhappy with him. It almost seemed like she didn’t recognize him at first, and then punished him for her mistake. Coop wondered what her deal was for a moment before he had an idea.
“Is it because I spent time with Felix?” He wondered out loud, but of course she didn’t comment on his guess aside from an agitated swish of her tail.
“I promise it wasn’t a big deal!” Coop tried to justify his behavior to the territorial cat, but he had really become chummy with the jaguar while he was there. It had been so long ago, how could Jett even realize it?
Jones smiled to himself before commenting on Coop’s reception. “Looks like you’re in the doghouse.” He stated, receiving a groan from Coop in response and an obvious side eye from Jett.
As an apology to Jett, Coop ignored her protests, lifting her up to put her on his shoulder with a barely suppressed, pained groan. He consoled her with gentle pets just like in the pre-mana times, and she conceded to his affection. Sure, she was a superpowered assassin that could probably end his life, but she was also still a kitty. He carried her around while Jones escorted him through the settlement.
“Looks like you did a lot of work on the walls.” Coop observed, restarting their conversation.
“Indeed.” Jones nodded as he agreed. “I’ve been using my abilities as an example to the Blood Cursed. Many of them need some encouragement after finding themselves ‘corrupted,’ believing that it is the end of the line for them. They behave as though it's a terminal illness of some sort. Lots of emotional outbursts.”
“How did Balor take to messing with the walls?” Coop idly wondered, imagining the stonemason requiring lots of persuasion before he accepted updating the fort. The stone dwarf was a bit of a cry baby when it came to pre-mana construction.
“I’m not sure.” Jones admitted to Coop’s surprise. “Ever since the faction concept came up, he’s been holding private town hall meetings with the other contracted residents. None of them are easy to get a hold of anymore.” Jones imitated one of Coop’s shrugs. “Seems like us having a faction would really shake things up for them.”
“Huh.” Coop was silent for a moment. He hadn’t expected the unaffiliated aliens to have that much of a vested interest in the settlement’s status. They didn’t seem to care when they were first recruited. Something didn’t seem right, but pretty much all of them had already become friends that Coop felt he could trust. He wondered how it would play out. “They still crafting stuff?” He asked, making sure the settlement wasn’t being bottlenecked in some way that might come to bite them in the future.
“Sure, but they all have human assistants that take orders. Makes negotiating with them exceedingly difficult.” Jones responded, slightly frustrated. Coop imagined that he had needed supplies to complete his refurbishment of the walls.
Aside from the missing aliens and traveling residents, all was right in the world of Ghost Reef. The flourishing town gave Coop hope that he might be able to return to the good old days where all of the impending doom was for the future to worry about. It wasn’t so long ago that Camila was proposing beach parties every week and they were able to have feasts and watch fireworks.
The interior of the fort hadn’t actually changed too much, all things considered, though there were more buildings than he remembered, and they were taller than before. The infrastructure that had been in place at the start was being filled out over time. He paused next to one of the smaller new additions and pointed it out to Jones.
“What are these?” Coop asked as they passed what seemed like a large mailbox.
Jones glanced over and seemed surprised Coop wasn’t aware. “Those are Charlie’s little libraries. Her main building is done, but won’t open until she gets back.”
“Oh, right.” Coop had promised her a profession related building a long time before, but it had slipped his mind during his adventures. “Where is it?” Coop asked, planning to make a stop before he left.
“It’s the smaller building right next to the main library and the school.” Jones gestured beyond the Tavern.
Coop thought it would be a good idea to donate the collection of books he had tucked away inside his spatial storage before he left, but his first order of business was to find Madison and face the music. Jones kindly escorted him the rest of the way while updating him on the state of the fort.
Everything was good on the home front with the last of the Sapphire Armada’s invasion force off the island and apparently using the Armada’s flagship to occupy the oil rig before returning to Neptune’s Bridge. They were volunteering en masse to join the navy and redeem themselves, and the Tempest Fleet had already established prerequisites for them to audition. The former members of the Sapphire Armada didn’t have much faith in the long term future of Neptune’s Bridge, with the general sentiment being that the city was doomed, but Coop wasn’t ready to give up on the Orlando settlement. He wouldn’t have sent so many of his most important companions to assess the situation if he planned to cut his losses.
Jett had settled down, involuntary purring under the attention Coop gave her. She squirmed to return to her patrols before they reached the Medical Center, Coop’s transgression forgiven, so he set her down and let her go on her way. Jones wished him luck and offered to meet him at the civilization shard when he was done, leaving him alone on the northern canal street. Coop hesitated in front of the golden hued alien hospital and tried to think of the best way to apologize to Madison.
“I shoulda brought her a souvenir.” Coop muttered regretfully.