Over the last few months, Fikre and Minah had worked to gather as many of the gods as possible in order to obtain a force sufficient enough to confront The Lich. So far, they had only managed to sway Astrid and Inge to their side. As it turns out, Astrid didn't like him much anyways, and Fikre immediately had Inge's full support.
"He has the aura of a man that would do terrible things to achieve his ends," Astrid had said to them.
They had spoken to Oleg, who seemed wholly disinterested, Barbatus, who was too caught up in the war, and Nitocris, who was actually quite interesting.
"Why would I care?" Nitocris asked them. "My whole focus right now is on killing the King and Queen of the Oasis States. Damn it, I'm a god, but their legions of fire magicians make it a very annoying endeavor. If I charged in myself, they could strike me down with sheer overwhelming force."
The only person they hadn't asked yet was Caterina Rossi, which Fikre was going to do today.
Fikre located Caterina and warped to her. The land of Vissio is one enormous field with running rivers and rich culture, and it was pleasantly warm here.
"Caterina?" Fikre asks. She jumped around, startled, but her look of fright quickly faded.
"Oh, Fikre," she says. "Do you have something important to ask me?"
"Yes, I-"
"One second," she interrupts. Fikre didn't notice this until now, but they're standing just on the outskirts of a small village. "This can't wait. Someone here is about to die." Oh.
They walk into the city. Multiple men wearing rudimentary protective equipment stand around a sleeping person on the stone road. "Caterina," one says, "thank heavens you're here. My son who you see in front of you drafted himself into the Patrian-Dulimbaian. He thought he could stick it to those Patrian bastards..." The man sniffles before continuing. "They used one of those terrible bioweapons on him. He has some sort of magical virus. Many healers of the Merciful Hand have tried to cure him, but nobody can. I am sure you will be able to, though!"
Caterina walks over to the near-corpse and places her hand on it. "Gift of Health: Ender of Plagues," she says gently. Red energies swirl around the young man's figure, and his previously pale skin turns a healthy tan. He slowly opens his eyes.
"Oh, thank you! Thank you!" The man shouts and runs to Caterina, hugging her. The village celebrates. Fikre is forced to watch this all play out from afar, too large to fit in between the houses.
"Fikre," Caterina says as they walk away from the village, "I wander the lands of Arcem looking for sick people to heal. Everywhere I go worships me. Even with all that, though, I'm useless in a fight."
"We're hoping we won't have to fight," Fikre says, "but if it comes to that I'm sure we could use you. That word of Health or Fertility has got to have some sort of practical use in battle."
"What would we be fighting, anyways?" She asks.
"...The Lich."
"Why!?" She is taken aback. "He's been nothing but kind to us!"
"He's established a massive city in the Bleak Reach populated by vagrants and dark magicians looking for his ancient wisdom and magical might. His power is growing every day. He tried to trick me into making some sort of pact with him. Hell, he's been kidnapping sailors and using them to create undead that can use magic!" Fikre states.
Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.
"Seriously? If all of this is true... what's he planning?" Caterina asks.
"We don't know, but we're trying to rally the rest of the gods to stop him. So far, we have Minah and Inge. Nobody else wanted to help us, but I think Nitocris is on the fence."
"...Okay. But afterwards I am going to continue doing what I've been doing. I don't want anyone else to suffer loss like I have if I can help it."
"That's perfect. We'll contact you when the time comes," says Fikre.
[WEEK 25: THE PANTHEON DIVIDES]
----------------------------------------
The Lich sits in his palace, watching the exchange between Caterina and Fikre take place. "Bitch," he says under his breath. Beelzebub appears in his room.
"S-Sir... I have the... scales..." Beelzebub stammers. He holds up his fuzzy insectoid appendage, revealing five shining red scales.
"Incredible! Beelzebub, you have redeemed yourself. Now leave, I must concentrate. There's only a small chance this will kill him, but I'm running out of options."
The Lich alchemically preserves four of the scales, but keeps one out in the open. "Normally, the casting of this spell would soil old connections, but luckily Theurgy has an answer for that too." The Lich performs a ritual on the scales that will keep them fresh indefinitely. "Perfect. Now, the spell can begin."
He waves his hands in the air and shouts, "NaIIIIor Mgehye'bthnk!" The red scale disintegrates.
----------------------------------------
Fikre finds Caterina a surprisingly good conversationalist. "That's probably because one of my Words is that of the Fae Queen. It grants me incredible charisma. I haven't had to use any of its gifts yet."
After hours of talking, Fikre stands up and waves goodbye to Caterina, but...
"What... the!" Fikre feels something pierce his underbelly. It is by far the most painful thing he's ever felt. "HELP-" Fikre explodes into a spectacular shower of gore and flesh. Caterina acts fast on her feet. "Gift of Health: Lifegiver!" She quickly shouts. Fikre's disassembled body parts mend themselves back together.
Fikre struggles to open his eyes. He sees Caterina standing by his head. "What... happened?" He asks.
"You died."
"What!?" Fikre quickly stands up, his drowsiness dispelled by shock.
"Some sort of invisible force attacked you out of nowhere. I had to think fast and bring you back to life with Lifegiver. Usually I can only use that on normal humans. I've tried bringing back powerful creatures before. But this time, I put all of my energy in it. I think I was just in time. A second later, you would have been dead for sure," says Caterina.
Fikre has a minor panic attack, but wasting no time, returns to his cave, realizing he needs a long rest to think about what just happened.
----------------------------------------
"Fuck..." The Lich lays on the floor of his quarters, smoking from magical feedback. "I love that spell... but the feedback energy it produces... hurts like hell." Not having the strength to get up, he focuses on Caterina, who is... SHE BROUGHT HIM BACK TO LIFE!? "FUCK!"
----------------------------------------
Leviticus and Winter travel further North still. Winter is far too heavy to fit on a horse, but he can keep up by running. They meet a traveler upon the road.
"Hail, kind traveler. We are new to these lands and are passing through. What country do we find ourselves in?" Asks Leviticus.
"That would be the Raktine Confederacy, good sir. I wouldn't linger here too long, though. The Black Academies are more than willing to kidnap innocent merchants and wanderers to use in their heartless magic experiments. I've heard they've started to worship The Lich now. Strange, considering how far the Black Academies are from the Bleak Reach."
"This... Lich. Do you know by chance his precise location?" Asks Leviticus.
"Um... no, but I do know he lives in the new capital of the Bleak Reach. Capital! Ha. A few months ago they couldn't even be considered a country."
"Interesting. Thank you, kind sir." Leviticus tosses him a coin they took from Mengu's monastery. "For your troubles."
"Well, Winter, it would seem that we've found where to find The Lich. The ancient theories of our master still maintain relevance. Therefore, if this Fikre Soro and Lich are truly the two individuals we are searching for, then by the time we get to this capital, they should both already be fighting each other. Even if fate doesn't ordain it so, the conflicting natures of the superego and the id will naturally contest each other."
Winter does not say a word in response, silently lamenting Leviticus and himself.