Heir of the Fog

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Hazeveil

[Kara]

[Gloomwings are known for their stealth and uncanny camouflage, but crafting a cloak from its hide would not grant you true invisibility.]

Kara kept lecturing me about why creating a cloak might be a waste of good material. She reminded me, over and over, that it would not deliver the same invisibility the beast had. Still, I found myself too fixated on the idea to let it go and in my opinion, she was the one losing the argument.

"But you have to admit it'd look cool, right?" I asked, a small grin crossing my face.

[Kara]

[...]

She fell silent for a moment—if you could call that stony pause "silence" for an AI. After the pause, she continued listing all the practical alternatives for the gloomwing's hide. Despite being a shadow beast of Tier 2, its hide offered raw resilience and plenty of potential for armor or reinforced accessories. But I still pictured a sleek cloak draped around my shoulders.

Of course, Kara was reluctant. She knew that making such a cloak would require teaching me the basics of runic constructs. I did not have the official clearance for such knowledge, and if she refused to instruct me, I would have to rely on scraps I recalled from Elina's lessons or from studying the designs on old artifacts.

"Admit it," I insisted, "there's no better use than a cloak. It'd cover my entire body and help me blend in, even more than usual."

[Kara]

[User might not have considered his other accessories, such as a backpack and spears. A cloak alone would fail to obscure these items effectively.]

She made a fair point. There were many logical reasons not to choose a cloak, problems with managing my gear, the lack of truly seamless concealment, and so on. Yet I found myself drawn to it anyway, remembering Elina's words: "Survival matters, but so does truly living."

I recalled how, back then, I had been puzzled when Meris wanted all those dresses for the advanced class, instead of merely practical clothes. The notion of wearing something simply because it felt good or looked nice had confused me. But while gazing at the remains of the shadowy beast I had slain—technically, the same beast that had killed me—I felt I understood a small piece of Meris's mindset. Sometimes you wanted an item not because it was the most efficient, but because it stirred something within you.

So, I made up my mind. If I was going to craft something from the hide of a beast that nearly ended me, it would be a cloak. I would figure out the details along the way, and if there was leftover hide to cover my backpack, all the better. "A man can dream, right?" I said to myself.

Eventually, after a long debate, Kara agreed to help me, on one condition: the cloak had to be practical enough to aid me during hunts. She also agreed to teach me some basics of runic formation so I could tap into the hide's shadow properties. We both understood it would never achieve the true invisibility that the gloomwing itself possessed, but it would enhance my stealth, especially at night or in low-light conditions.

We established a few key requirements. First, the cloak had to cover my whole body to give me a meaningful advantage in hunts—so we settled on a hooded design that would extend to my ankles, with a bit of extra length for growth. Second, it had to be sleeveless and easy to remove, because wearing a full cloak during a fight might hamper my movements. This would keep it useful for setting ambushes or launching the first strike from the shadows and then removing the cloak during the fight if it does not end on the first strike.

I carefully separated the hide from the gloomwing's carcass, which I managed more skillfully this time than I had when butchering diremaws. I removed the excess flesh and fat, then stretched the hide flat on the ground. As before, I used strips of leftover hide to secure it, but I took more care smoking it above a slow, smoldering fire. The smoke helped make it water-resistant, and I massaged the hide with fat and even some of the beast's brain matter to soften it. The result was surprisingly pliable, far more flexible than my earlier leatherwork efforts.

Kara guided me every step of the way, projecting small visual markers in my line of sight—measurements and lines that showed where I should cut or trim. We factored in a bit of extra material for my inevitable growth. Using one of the daggers I had crafted from diremaw parts, I punched holes around the edges, each spaced a couple of centimeters apart, for eventual stitching.

Meanwhile, my collection of daggers and spears remained substantial. The resources I'd gathered from the three first diremaws I encountered were plentiful, and I had spent days crafting weapons before leaving my home near District 98. However, I felt a pang of regret as I realized I no longer had the old frame I used to attach my spears on my back. It had broken in the last fight. So I began fashioning a new rig from the gloomwing's bones, hoping this one would prove sturdier.

Days slipped by while I labored over my equipment. Between the physical toils and the training drills Kara subjected me to, I felt stretched thin. There were moments I half-suspected she took a twisted pleasure in pushing me to my limits. Still, the results were undeniable. My strength and stamina climbed steadily, and I was glad for the improvement.

I also discovered that the gloomwing's organs had gone stale during the time I was in the long sleep—no alchemical use remained for them. So I roasted and ate them, mixing them with scraps of the gloomwing's meat. Every bit of sustenance mattered if I planned on continuing these relentless workouts.

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At last, I found enough time to produce sinew from the beast's remains, even though I had some from District 98. The gloomwing's sinew felt tougher, better suited for a cloak that needed to survive the grueling environment of the fog. Using that sinew as thread, I sewed a hem along the edges of the hide, preventing fraying and reinforcing weak points. I attached simple fastenings carved from the beast's bones, ensuring I could slip the cloak on or off with minimal fuss.

The hood proved the trickiest part to shape. Precision mattered so I wouldn't limit my peripheral vision or hamper quick reactions. With Kara's guidance, I managed a decent fit. I double-stitched certain spots to prevent tearing, especially around the shoulders and neckline, where stress would be highest.

When I finally stepped back to admire it, I saw a sleek, shadow-gray cloak that draped over my entire figure, stopping near my ankles. It had no sleeves and included a well-formed hood, both easy to remove and snug enough to shield me from prying eyes in the dim light of the fog.

With the leftover hide, I even covered portions of my backpack, so it would match the cloak's color. It might not have been perfect camouflage, but it still blended far better than the worn leather I had been using.

I ran my hand along the finished cloak, remembering how that gloomwing had tortured me and even made me fall from the sky. In a strange way, turning its hide into my armor felt like reclaiming a piece of myself. Sure, it wasn't the most logical use of the material, but Elina was right: survival was crucial, yet so was truly living.

Then came the nails. In the end, I could not think of many uses for them, so I decided simply to reshape them into more traps that would be quick to set up. Of course, I ended up cutting each large nail into smaller points for the traps, but even so, each would be lethal enough.

More than two weeks passed before I finally finished. That was partly because I spent half of each day training, and partly because I had an ever-growing list of equipment that needed repairs. The hooded cloak itself proved extremely challenging to create, especially with all the new steps involved in properly handling the gloomwing hide.

Eventually, the day arrived to inscribe the runic constructs.

"You promised," I reminded Kara, sensing her hesitation about teaching me how to engrave runic designs.

[Kara]

[User should be aware that the presence of corruption may affect runic constructs in unpredictable ways. Given your current corruption, this item might undergo changes over time if it remains close to you.]

Kara had warned me before that corruption had a tendency to spread, influencing everything around it—especially constructs that harnessed mana. I wondered idly what the worst possibility could be. Before I could form the question, Kara supplied an unsettling example.

[Kara]

[Runic constructs are known to explode when they become unstable…]

Immediately, I pictured my newly stitched cloak going up in flames. Judging by Kara's tone, she was more concerned about the possibility of me exploding into countless pieces while wearing it. Despite her grim warnings, I decided to take the risk.

"No matter," I said. "Let's just make it."

For the next week, I studied runic constructs under Kara's guidance. She insisted I understand a fair portion of the basics before we tried applying anything to an actual object—my precious cloak, in this case. I only managed to grasp a fraction of what she taught, but I felt confident I had the gist of it.

She explained that runic constructs acted as intermediaries for magic, channeling mana for a specific purpose—or multiple purposes, in more elaborate designs. The ancient people of Araksiun had used them extensively because humans themselves could not directly wield magic. The trick was to draw, paint, or carve precise symbols into an object or even a living creature that already possessed some affinity with the desired effect.

In my case, I needed a stealth runic construct, something that leveraged the hide's natural shadow properties. A normal cloak would not have sufficed, but since this one came from a gloomwing, a Tier 2 shadow beast—it already carried a certain resonance. Kara designed a runic construct that would help blend more easily to the environment.

But there was a second requirement: batteries. I had no way of crafting a proper "battery" to store mana. So Kara devised a low-power solution that would feed off ambient energy from the fog. Essentially, it would work better out in the condensed mana of the fog and work poorly inside the ward. Such a thing was only possible because of the Fog, as it's actually composed of high amounts of condensed mana. In the past, before the Fog, such a runic construct wouldn't have worked by itself.

Once the runes were carved into the cloak, I felt an immediate ripple of energy. It reminded me of how the gloomwing had blended into the darkness, though this version was clearly weaker. I used the same rune design on my backpack as well, holding my breath in case it might explode. Fortunately, it didn't, and Kara seemed relieved too.

[Kara]

[This is quite an achievement. Many in your districts refer to items like these as artifacts. You may consider this cloak an artifact in its own right. By referencing user memories, I note there are very few such objects within District 98. You might want to name it.]

Artifact… This was my second artifact, the first being Kara herself—though she was far more advanced than any construct I could craft. Still, I felt a surge of pride. Now I needed a name.

I let different ideas roll around in my head. Wraithveil, Shadowmantle, Shadowcloak… none sounded right. It took me a while to land on Hazeveil, partly inspired by its dusky gray coloring.

"You shall be Hazeveil," I declared to the quiet air, as though pronouncing some monumental edict. The moment I spoke, I felt the cloak's runes twist slightly, reacting to my voice as mana itself resonated with it. For a heartbeat, I feared it was the corruption flaring, waiting to blow me apart. Yet the distortion settled, and the runes remained functional as if nothing had happened.

I shrugged off my nerves and slipped the cloak on, a grin tugging at the corners of my mouth. At last, I understood something Elina had once said about living for more than just survival. This must have been how Meris felt, twirling in her new dresses. Granted, I wore this cloak mainly to kill things more efficiently, but at least I grasped the concept now and could relate to what she felt.

The final product, a sleeveless hooded cloak crafted from the hide of a Gloomwing, a Tier 2 magical beast, was a dark gray reminiscent of dense fog at dusk, with a subtle sheen that shifted in dim light. Along its edges and interior, faintly glowing runes twisted and shimmered, displaying the power of the arcane. However, the light pulsed faintly with an eerie glow, a signal of the corruption Kara had warned me about.

I could not have been happier with my choice. Silently, I thanked Elina again for all her lessons.

The warm sensation of the Fog grew more intense, and memories of my first family kept flooding back to me. They were not so far away; I could reach them today. But I reminded myself of my promise, not to return without an artifact to solve the hunger.

'I shall not disappoint,' I muttered to myself.