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Acacia Chronicle
Into the Dragon’s Lair Story Arc, Part XI [Re-write]

Into the Dragon’s Lair Story Arc, Part XI [Re-write]

One night later, at Elena’s apartment…

Hmph. It’s nearly time.

We’ve done it, Lady Mezalune and I. The illusionary barrier is gone, now. Didn’t take too long with a Lich and a Beholder working together. Now, Iris has sent her Lightsworn to cordon off the mansion, and they tell her that the people who emerge from it half-mad and ravening, rant about a lavender-haired devil adorned in chains, who had set them free. No talk of dragons, at all.

Damn. Guess we’re too late, huh? Seems like it. Hate to say it, but I made my choice back then and there, and the ritual, whatever the damned thing was all about, must’ve happened.

Bloody, damned dragons.

Iris won’t risk any of her Lightsworn, and I can’t blame her. I mean, some of ‘em are pretty powerful, that much is true… but this is my task, and mine alone.

Yup. I’ll be there, when the curtain falls. I did make a promise to Claire, y’know? Yeah, what am I thinking, agreeing to something like that? I swear, I’m getting soft. Hate that feeling, y’know? That, and…

Heh, whatever. I’ll figure it out later. Just like the report I’ll need to write for Lady Mezalune, when I’m done. For now, I’ll just keep it simple. I’ll go in there, find Anna, bring her home, and…

“You’re leaving for the mansion, aren’t you?”

Claire says this to me, looking me in the eye as I make my way to the front door. She still looks very tired, and she’s got a new change of clothes. It’s a crimson and saffron robe, the kind that clerics wear before they’re inducted into the white and gold getup that the devatas of the Central Church wear. And it looks great on her, just like most things would, I’d say.

“Yeah. I’ll be back with Anna,” I tell her. “Sooner than you’d think.”

“Let me join you!”

She grabs me by my hands, and her touch… it’s warm. Very warm, and a little heavy. I want to say something, but I can’t think of anything.

“Please understand!” she adds, pressing that warmth of her hands upon the coldness of mine. “I know you might think that it’s crazy, but I have to see this through, no matter what.”

“And why’s that?” I ask.

“Because… wait. Elena, are you… alright? You’re blushing, and…”

I realise, albeit far too late, that I’ve looked away. That Claire’s right, and that I’m blushing again in her presence, in that ugly shade of accursed green. And as I force myself to look at her, I realise that she’s blushing as well. Her face is ripe and red like an apple. Pretty, lovely, beautiful… you get it.

“No,” I tell her, with all the strength in my voice. “I’m, uh…”

“Um…”

“You’re blushing as well, y’know! You shouldn’t…”

“I’m sorry, Elena. I’m in your debt, and yet I’m making all these demands…”

“Nah, it’s alright. I’m…”

Hate to say it, but what to say next escapes me. From the way she looks at me as I look at her, she’s got the same problem as well. And I have to say, that I’ve never found the walls so captivating before, till now. Y’know how it is… my duties bring me far away from home, but really, the Crafter’s Guild has done such a great job with the décor, and…

“Um… if you don’t mind me asking… why are your veins like that?”

Claire’s smiling a nervous smile at me. It’s the kind that, centuries ago, I’d give my tutors whenever I feel like I’m asking what I know is a silly question, and yet hope for a sincere answer. And her voice is soft, gentle, and meek. Like, uh… a pillow? Look, I’m just making this up as I go.

“What do you mean?” I ask, though I suspect I know what she means.

“Um… you know, why are you, um… green in the veins? Whenever you smile, or blush? You’re… not, um… like us, right? Like…”

“Like what?”

“To be honest, Elena… what exactly are you? I know that you’re a sorcerer, and yet…”

For a moment, I look away from her, and towards my bedroom.

“Um… Elena?”

“You really wanna know?” I ask her, my eyes still upon my bedroom. “For sure?”

Again, there’s silence. This time, for what feels like forever.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

“Yes, I’d like to know,” Claire tells me, after a while. “I’m… not well versed at all in magic, but… won’t you tell me? You’re my saviour, Anna’s as well… I’d like to try and understand, even if I can’t.”

Without a reply, I leave her for my bedroom. There’s a little rosewood table next to my bed, big enough to hold a lamp and a mug of coffee on its surface. It’s a housewarming gift from Lady Mezalune, a little something from quite a while ago. The magical seal placed upon the drawer disables itself with a snap of my fingers, and I take out the box that holds within it, the answer to Claire’s question.

The box, it’s open now. For a moment, I forget what I’m here for, and I simply stop and stare into the ruby necklace of white gold nestled within, that rests amidst piles of rune-inscribed paper. Every time, I feel this way because it has been for centuries now, all that I am forevermore – my phylactery.

Ten years ago, under the shade of the newborn Sefir, my pact to serve Lady Mezalune was sealed. Before that, I’ve spent three centuries cooped up in my ancestral manor, searching and working fruitlessly for redemption. I never found it, y’know, working on my own. And in truth, after what I’ve done to my people, I’d be delusional if I ever thought myself worthy of it. And now that it’s over… all that’s left is to serve. Faithfully, regardless of right and wrong.

Yeah. It is what it is, huh? I’d like to think of it as a chance to explore. Under Elicia, the world’s changed a whole lot while I was away, and I’ve yet to see it all. Can’t say I’ve really lived till lately, can I? And I say this, having killed a lot of stuff even in recent times. Many more to come along and die, I’d reckon.

Heh. Some things never change, huh?

With the jewelled box holding my phylactery resting firmly in both hands, I return to the door, where Claire is waiting for me. Her nervousness breaks into a smile at the sight of my phylactery, and I find myself smiling in turn.

“Wow… what is that?” she asks innocently. “It’s so pretty…”

“It’s me,” I answer, quietly. “It’s the phylactery containing my soul. Many forms they can be, but this one… holds mine.”

“Ah… a phylactery?”

She says that word, like she’s tasting it as it rolls off her tongue. Her frown isn’t a good sign, I’ll say. And the gaze of her eyes are still upon my phylactery, and it feels like she’s looking at me, gazing deep into my soul. Quite literally, in a way.

“I’m a Lich,” I explain to her, as she looks up towards me. “In life, I was an Archmage, and I ascended by doing something I really shouldn’t have. To become immortal, all-powerful, y’know… the works.”

Huh. I guess all that sounded a lot better in my thoughts. Can’t believe I’m talking about this, like I’m ordering a pizza at a café. I suppose sometimes, the words and sentences that you say end up nothing like what you have in mind, y’know?

“But… you did what you had to do, right?”

In response, I close the jewelled box shut, sealing away my phylactery. Claire is still looking at me with that enrapturing gaze of hers. It’s so enrapturing, that it’s no wonder she’s in Heretic’s Private Collection. They’ve been on a steady decline ever since she retired, I’d say.

“Elena?”

“No, Claire, not really,” I tell her, as I start walking towards the bedroom. “It was a really stupid thing I did. I try not to think about it these days. Bad times, y’know?”

“Oh. But, you’re still Elena, right?”

Pausing dead in my tracks, I turn around.

“What do you mean?”

Claire gestures towards her chest, and she places a hand upon her breast. Upon her heart, I’d assume. I’m not sure, honestly. I don’t think my organs have been working as of late. Or for a very long time, for that matter. Being a Lich is funny like that, y’know? I mean, this body of mine… it’s just a manifestation of concentrated magic from my phylactery.

“Like, um… you’re still the same person in there?” she asks, once more. “When you were alive, like us?”

“I’d very much like to think so,” I answer, placing my hand upon my chest as I speak. “Yeah.”

Her smile, is all I need for an answer. In truth, where my heart ought to be, there’s nothing but coldness and silence. But it’ll do, I suppose.

“Excuse me for a moment, won’t ya?”

Leaving her waiting at the door, once again, I return my phylactery to where it belongs. I’ll admit, an enchanted rosewood table isn’t exactly the safest of places to store one’s immortal soul, but it’s always nice to reconstitute in the comfort of one’s bed, no? It’s definitely a lot nicer than putting it in some labyrinthian lair filled with traps and giant spiders and whatnot. Sure, it’s safer and all like that, but can you imagine waking up to one of those big and ugly things, and all their eyes? The Ancient Cathedral’s a pretty safe place by itself, thankfully. Even if it puts me at the mercy of the Lightsworn, and even if the holy sanctity of the altars to Elicia give me a headache, it’s still a nice place to stay.

Ah, but I digress.

I make my way back to Claire’s side. Behind her, I see my hooded longcoat and my boots waiting by the coat rack, and I remember what I have to do after being carried away. Y’know, my job, instead of spending time talking about my accursed, damned soul.

“I have to go now, Claire,” I tell her. “I’ll be back with Anna, sooner than you’d think.”

“Then take me with you, Elena.”

Claire’s eyes, they’re now upon me like daggers’ points. I try to move past her, but she’s placed herself right in front of the door. I’d shove her aside, but I… can’t.

“I know it’s foolish, but please, hear me out! I can’t abandon Anna in her hour of need, and I can’t let you face them alone!”

Oh, Claire! I don’t know what it is within you, because I’ve… lost it after so long. Something about being mortal, and… determination? It’s… jarring when I think about it, really. I mean, you should be in bed, resting. That’s what Iris said, and she’s a healer without peer, so she ought to know a thing or two about mortal bodies.

“At least… let me accompany you to the entrance. I’ll wait outside, alongside Her Grace’s men. I heard Cecelia’s there. I’ll stay with her, and we’ll pray for your safety, and…”

“Right on,” I tell her, smiling as she too, smiles at me. “Let’s go.”

“Thank you, Elena,” she says as I open the door. “I’m sorry again, about…”

“C’mon.”

Right. I suppose having a companion would be a good change of pace, no? Running around, all alone like one of those demented bloodsuckers stalking the slums gets boring eventually. But at least, I don’t hide in the dark like the lot of ‘em.

Heh, at least not all the time.

But tell me, Claire. It’s something far beyond what I can feel that moves you, eh? Is it, dare I say it, what it means to be mortal? To have that warmth that you have, for Anna and the people you love? I want to say that I know that feeling of yours like the back of my hand, because I’m sure I once did, centuries ago. And so… would you show me what that means? That’d be nice, because maybe, I’d remember it and experience it again… somehow.

Well, whatever. That, can still wait. For now, the dragon’s lair awaits, and whatever’s within. Elicia preserve us all, as Iris would say from time to time. Even if Lady Mezalune always scoffs at such empty words.

Yeah, may Elicia do so in our time of need.