[Gain Forbidden Knowledge]
The ability had been sitting at the back of Lieze’s mind ever since she first acquired it. Based on the description of Sokalar’s phylactery, it was a necessary step in deciphering the secrets of Lichdom. With Tonberg conquered, she had found herself in possession of both time and thralls - there would be no better occasion to complete the ritual.
The Order’s efficiency skyrocketed with the introduction of Lieze’s command structure. Suddenly, there were no qualms about who was responsible for a particular task, or who should be taking orders from whom. A strict hierarchy of power would guarantee the cultists’ independence while reducing the risk of betrayal or insubordination.
Days passed in welcome silence. When she wasn’t overseeing Marché’s efforts in delivering thralls from the other cities, Lieze dove back into the complex task of deciphering the true intent of the Scions. Her research was fortified by an endless supply of once-forbidden tomes sourced from cathedrals and libraries across Tonberg.
She never came close to a breakthrough, but her most burning questions were satisfied by the messages hidden between verses of scripture and alchemical theory. Those scholars who involved themselves with matters of the divine seemed convinced that their research would have been destroyed if discovered, and so the majority of their findings were scrambled with cyphers or hidden in seemingly mundane places. Lieze followed references, footnotes, and riddles through a corpus of Tonberg’s ancient history, hot on the trail of information related to the Scions.
On the third day, her research was interrupted by a visit from Marché, who squeezed through a crack in her door with all the subtlety of a thief stalking through the night.
“Lieze…” He began, “You asked me to inform you when we’d gathered at least 1,000 thralls.”
She slipped a wooden bookmark through the latest of her reads and sighed, “Already? You’ve done good work. I want all of them gathered near my door.”
“...All of them?” Marché blinked, “I don’t think that’s possible.”
“Line them up. I don’t care how disorganised it is, but just make certain that they’re poised to enter my room at any moment.” She continued, “It’s imperative that you gather at least 1,000 of them, and that you don’t disturb me for the next 24 hours afterwards. Is that clear?”
“C-Crystal…” He muttered, “I’ll have them organised right away…”
Exploring the rabid minds of scholars would have to wait. The [Gain Forbidden Knowledge] ritual would eclipse her concentration for a full day and completely erase her reserve of MP afterwards. She was keen to discover the deepest secrets of necromancy.
Gathering up enough Gravewalkers to fulfil Lieze’s absurd demand ended up taking two hours and more than half of the Order’s cultists. By the time they were finished, a parade of idle undead extended from the door to her room all the way to the castle’s base. The cultists would need to maintain their hold over the thralls to prevent them from wandering away.
“Hm?” On her way back from a visit to distant Saptra, Drayya tilted her head at the strange sight, “What’s this? Don’t tell me we’re doing marching bands now.”
“Lieze is on the cusp of unveiling something quite terrible, young Drayya.”
She swivelled her head to see Lüngen approaching from behind with both arms behind his back. He was leading a caravan of fresh thralls into the city, allowing the wagons to trundle on ahead while he stopped to chat, “The two of you are far too young to remember, but Ignas once took it upon himself to complete the very same ritual. It set him on the path towards attaining a forbidden power - at the cost of both his spirituality and any semblance of the man he once was.”
“Wha-” Drayya paused, “Don’t tell me…”
He nodded, “Wouldn’t you say it’s the dream of every necromancer to snatch the secret of immortality from the very Gods? Sokalar had long anticipated the arrival of his successor, but I’m sure he didn’t expect that person to be his own flesh and blood.”
“What do you mean by ‘the cost of spirituality’?” She asked, “It’s just a ritual…”
“Have you considered the ramifications of separating one’s soul from their body?” Lüngen asked, “The belief has been held since ancient times that one cannot exist without the other. That is why the splitting of the two is regarded as a taboo practice.”
He spoke without bias or disappointment, as if he had expected the outcome all along or was resigned to its passing. But a trickle of dishonesty rose through his throat to muddy the statement with anxiety. Not despair, or fury, but a tinge of something deadly close to sadness.
“But… what’s going to happen to her?” Drayya asked.
“Oh, she will become quite powerful. I don’t doubt that.” He replied, “She has already learned that great power often comes at a cost. Her ruined body attests to that.”
“Her body is one thing, but you’re making it sound like her mind will be affected.” She said.
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“Is that a problem?”
Drayya frowned, “What are you suddenly acting so disconnected for!? Of course it’s a problem!”
Lüngen reached into a coat pocket and retrieved his pipe, only to have it knocked clean out of his hand by a well-placed swipe from Drayya. Specks of leftover tobacco spilled onto the streets.
“What if Lieze turns out like Sokalar did!?” She asked.
“If she is willing to make that sacrifice, then I see no reason to stop her.” Lüngen answered, bending down with a grunt to retrieve the pipe, “...Her ambitions have grown to eclipse the Order’s ideals. It’s no surprise that she wishes to consolidate as much power as possible. You must understand that her lust for power will not cease with the conquering of the Dwarves and the Elves.”
Lieze was a singularity of potential. Without barriers in place to limit her growth, the scope of her goals would only continue to grow. By clearing the final hurdle Sokalar presented, the possibilities before Lieze had become nebulous in number.
How far was she willing to go? Would the sins of her father act as a deterrent to greed, or only serve to stoke the fires of ambition? Drayya didn’t need to ruminate on the dilemma - the answer was obvious. And she didn’t like it one bit.
“We are each slaves to our emotions.” Lüngen said, “-That is the fundamental belief of the Order. Lieze has always been quite resistant in that regard, but even she isn’t immune to the imperfection of life. With that said, if she was stripped of all capacity to love and hate, would she really be so different from her usual self?”
“What do you think?” Drayya crossed her arms, “I know you’re just trying to wind me up. This isn’t the sort of thing you would ever say, Lüngen.”
“Hm.” He smiled, “You’ve found me out. But I can’t say the same for you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” She narrowed her eyes.
“Margoh Drayya has never once appeared to me like the kind of lady who would ever worry about her colleague’s state of mind.” He wiped the dirt from his pipe, “Why, I would need more than two hands to count the number of times you’ve issued death threats to young Lieze in the past three months alone.”
She exhaled through her nose, “Things have changed. She’s our leader now, so naturally I want her to be in the right headspace, especially with everything we’ll have on our plates in the very near future.”
“So that’s what it is.” Lüngen chuckled, “Alright, then. But don’t you think that a lack of emotions pairs with omnicide rather well?”
“I don’t care!” She turned on her heels, “Lieze is… well - Lieze is Lieze! And we need Lieze if we’re going to win! That’s the only reason I need to talk her down from doing this!”
“You don’t need my permission.” He said.
“I wasn’t asking for it!” She yelled, storming off in the direction of the castle.
Lüngen watched the girl forcing her way through the queue of Gravewalkers with an amused expression on his face. He took out his tin of tobacco only to find the container woefully empty.
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“Lieze!”
The door was cracked open, but Drayya saw fit to kick it in anyway. The gesture earned her a tired glance from the room’s single occupant, who had been immunised to her peer’s supreme lack of courtesy over the course of two decades and more.
“Learn to knock before entering someone’s room.” She scolded.
“What could you have possibly been doing that required privacy?” Drayya shrugged.
“...Changing?” Lieze glanced from side to side.
“Oh dear - a naked woman? Perish the thought! I would never be able to live that down!” She smirked, “I’ve seen your scrawny chest on more occasions than I care to remember, and believe me - it’s nothing worth getting excited about.”
There was something about her self-confident tone that made such a childish comment so much more infuriating that it ought to have been, but Lieze managed to keep a straight face throughout.
She sighed, “I’m busy at the moment, Drayya.”
“Yes… busy with the business of Lichdom, I see.” She replied, “Lüngen has so gracefully informed me that there may be some lingering side effects to such a powerful ritual. Are you aware of that?”
“Reduced capacity for empathy, heightened magical aptitude, sores, lesions, necrosis…” Lieze trailed off, “Sokalar was incredibly descriptive when it came to penning the particulars of his transformation into a Lich. I studied his medical journals thoroughly.”
“-And you’re still going through with it?” Drayya placed a hand on her hip.
“...Yes?” She didn’t so much as twitch, “Ever since I came to understand the peculiarities of this ritual, I always considered it to be the natural next step of my journey. Now that we have an abundance of both time and thralls, I see no better opportunity to conduct it.”
A beat passed. Drayya frowned.
“...But you’ll be-”
“-just like him? Like Sokalar?” Lieze finished, “No, Drayya. I won’t. Don’t be ridiculous. And even if that was the case, why would you care? I don’t plan on falling into the same pitfalls my father did. If anything, his failures will only serve to elevate us to greater heights.”
The argument made perfect sense. Lieze was only interested in the most efficient route to securing more power for herself. There was more to her mind than the complexities of human emotion. A chance to cast her mortal shell aside had appeared, and she wasn’t about to let the opportunity slip between her fingers.
“...No.” Drayya shook her head, “You’re not going to do this. I won’t let you.”
Why was she so opposed to the idea? The question lingered in her mind out of necessity. She knew the answer, but preferred the mystique of angst to delay any desire for authenticity. She was - in that moment - a tried-and-true fool.
“You won’t let me…” Lieze repeated her proclamation, “How kind of you to say. But kindness has no place in this time. Kindness was the dream of our youth - a mechanism for preserving our minds as chaos ruled our surroundings from day to day.”
She stood, “Leave. I don’t have time for this.”
How many times had the two of them disagreed on something? Lieze dreaded to consider it. Even with their power dynamic turned on its head, the blood between them ran frigid as ice. And just as she was beginning to establish the incontestable nature of her leadership.
“No.” Drayya crossed her arms and remained in the doorway, “I wasn’t joking.”