It would have taken us nearly two days to march to the Lich’s hideout, but the distance we covered on Thric’s wings cut that time down to hours. It was a nice view from where we were, even if it looked to me that Thric and I were the only ones whose eyes could take it in full. Wander and Hera sat among the large spines that jutted out from the dragons back with relative comfort, not seeming displeased with the commendations. Looking at the situation, I saw an opportunity to ask some questions I had unanswered for a while now.
“So Hera…” I asked out a bit hesitantly, my voice caring through the wailing air with surprising ease. She slightly tilted her head towards me, and when she said nothing I took it as a sign to continue. “What IS magic- er, Magecraft?” I posted after correcting myself, remembering the small amount she had informed me on.
“Hmm…” She hummed out slowly, as if trying to figure out her next words. “You're really going to want this conversation with a mage, but as I understand it Magecraft is, at its most basic, the manipulation of phenomena using energy housed in another realm that borders our own.”
“Right…?” I drawled out, not really understanding it. Hera smiled slightly before continuing her explanation.
“The realm of energy that borders all of existence is referred to as the Weave or, if you live in The University of Omniversal Arcana, the Fifth Great Realm Above. Some also call it the Akashic Records but that's not important right now. It's, as I understand it, a dimension of absolute energy that, for lack of a better term, leaks into the wider multiverse.” She then spread her arms out, as if to point to everything around us. “This energy has merged with pretty much everything, and with it the ability to enact miracles.”
“But HOW does it allow it? Everything I try to read about that just hurts my head.” I admitted with a groan of annoyance.
“Funny isn't it?” Hera seemingly commented to herself before turning back to me. “With this energy suffusing the Multiverse, it was discovered that it could be harnessed in the use of Magecraft. For you see my dear Cynthia, Magecraft is the ability to bring about what is possible through science with supernatural means; the process is considered a miracle, the result is not.” Wander lazily waved my way, as if to grab my attention, before suddenly taking over for Hera in the conversation.
“There exists no impossibility for Magecraft within the rules of the Multiverse and limits of sentient intellect,” he explained, using more words in this moment than the last few days combined. “There are limitations, however, where it only appears that something is possible. You see, because Magecraft acts as the reenactment of things that have already happened, pre-existing phenomena and such, it is impossible to use it to create new phenomena.” He gave a bit of a dry chuckle as he continued on.
“Even with an infinite amount of time, research, and funds, there exists a "wall" preventing users of Magecraft from doing so. The realm past this "wall" is known as Magic, the domain of the gods.” He finished with a tired sigh, as if those words had drained him of all his energy. I nodded slowly, letting the words sink in as I formed my response.
“So is everyone who uses this “energy” a mage?” I asked while eyeing Hera, who if I recall said she was something opposite to them. She took control of the conversation then, continuing the conversation from where he left off.
“While any form of manipulation of this energy is technically referred to as “Magecraft”, how this energy is used, the way they use it, and where it's manipulated from is as varied as all things under the stars.” She looked out onto the world below, gathering her thoughts before continuing.
“The varied schools of Magecraft and its practitioners are the ones universally referred to as mages. On the other hand, those that study at the Auditory Colleges are called Bards, those that live in Druidic Groves are called Druids, Monk Monasteries are filled with Monks and on and on. The energy they use is the same, but as you'll see as we continue on is that they are also different in every aspect.” I nodded in understanding before a thought popped up.
“And what are you called?” I questioned with the slightest turn of my head. She gave me a slight smirk as she answered.
“Those who think they know me would call me a Cleric.”
“And those who do know you?”
“They don't need me to tell them.” That comment stung a bit, though I couldn't say it wasn't warranted. I might have been Cynthia, but I also wasn’t and considering I had started our relationship on the basis of getting to know each other once again it made sense that there would be things I would have to earn.
“Alright, I think I'm getting it now. Just one more question please.” I begged, worried that this would be where my questions would end. Thankfully, Hera gave an exasperated sigh, but nodded for me to continue all the same. I was giddy at the idea of not getting shut down again.
“This “Wall” that separates Magecraft and Magic… can it be crossed?”
“Didn't you hear Wander?” Hera asked while pointing to him with a hand. My eyes scrunched in thought as something deep within my psyche was starting to ache.
“Yes, but something about that statement sounds… wrong.” Wrong was the, well, wrong term though. It was more like, I knew it was a lie.
“The wall separating Magecraft and Magic is impassable my Sith.” Thric muttered out with a low rumble that passed through my whole being. “To cross that threshold, one would have to be Ea’pik. One would have to BE impossible.”
“That sounds less like a word, and more like a title.” I posited, putting a finger to my head as my thoughts rolled about.
“If only it was.” The dragon muttered with what sounded like sadness. The ramifications of this topic were startling, but before I could press further Hera cut me off.
“Later my dear Cynthia, our destination approaches.” Hera stated while she turned to Thric. “Take us higher, I don't want to be spotted just yet.” The dragon just grumbled but began to fly us even higher, each wing beat throwing enough wind around to scatter the clouds around us. Hera then turned to me, and I could see the request on her lips.
“Do you see them?” I narrowed my eyes in thought, parsing the sentence before grabbing one of the spikes and leaning as far as I could over the dragon. Looking down upon the layer of clouds and the earth before me, it should have been impossible to make out any detail from this distance. Yet I perfectly made out a stone fortress crawling with the skeleton dead. It possessed a curtain wall that was heavily staffed with guards and things only slightly humanoid, though nothing that could ever be mistaken for living.
Squinting slightly I could make out each individual, and I watched as they went about their duties in the same, stiff, jerky movements. They loaded ballista, catapults and such, seemingly preparing for a siege. I squinted just a little harder, and found that they all held upon them a symbol, a ghastly skull about to bite into a sun, as well as words stitched under the symbol.
Light Eater.
“Yeah I see them.” I informed Hera as I brought myself back up. Part of me was curious as to why I spotted no such symbol on the assault of Andtin, but that was the least of my concerns at the moment. Hera smiled eagerly before she responded.
“How long until we're directly over the keep?”
“I give it another… 5 minutes?”
“Good. Now take my hand, and when we're over it let me know.” She ordered me while extending the appendage. I nodded and gingerly took it into my own hand. Counting down the seconds in my head didn't give me a lot of room to think, but when I finally hit zero I nodded to let her know it was time. It was then that a thought occurred to me. How were we getting down there? Hera’s smile widened.
She then leaned over Thrics' side and fell from his back, and with her hand in mine she dragged us both into free fall. She laughed slightly as we fell, though I could only shout out Hera’s name in fear and confusion as we dived.
“Relax my friend,” Hera lightly commanded, her voice easily eclipsing the rush of the wind. “Falling from such height was never a concern for Cynthia, and she had several ways of landing safely. I'm sure you can perform at least one of them.” She promised while looking completely at ease in her fall.
As I pulled myself together, focusing my thoughts on the situation, I strangely noticed that the clothes and veil Hera wore didn't seem to be affected by the wind at all, and though they flowed in the air it was like they blew against some other ethereal current than the one we fell in. But as strange a sight that was to see, I had another concern to focus on and so I put that information to the back of my mind. Now if Hera was to be believed, which I had no reason not to, Cynthia had no problem dealing with this situation. So, neither should I.
I just had to figure out how.
“Hmm…” I forced out as I continued to plummet.
“Hmmm…” Farther and faster we continued.
“Hmmmm…” We passed through the last cloud.
“Ah!” I shouted as an Idea came to mind.
“Oh?” Hera commented, her serene visage unchanged as we fell still. “Has a plan formed?” I nodded vigorously as I held my hands to my chest, fists balled in excitement.
“I'm gonna land on my feet!” I was hoping she’d be happy, or at least content with the plan. Instead she seemed… confused?
“You have fun with that,” Was her apathetic response. That did dampen my mood a bit, but I was committed to giving it a try if nothing else. So we fell further and further, down towards the keep below. Soon it was time and having maneuvered as best I could above my target, who I had spotted long ago, I prepared for landing. I counted down in my head, and at zero I twisted in the air so my feet were pointed towards my target.
That being the skeleton knight who had just finished climbing to the top of the stairs that led up from the bottom of the curtain wall. So hard did I smash into it that I breached its plate mail and crushed several bones within. The force sent the corpse back onto the stairs which both bounced and skied down them. It was a lot more difficult to control than I thought it might be, though I managed to make it to the bottom with some moderate success. My legs were certainly in pain by the time I made it to the end of my ride.
Stepping out of my makeshift sled, and crushing the skull for good measure, I looked up and found Hera gently floating down to my side. She descended like a goddess gracing the world with her presence, and it occurred to me that I had suggested those words before. I offered a hand as she was almost next to me, which she took into her own as she landed.
“What an interesting landing,” Hera commented as she looked around us. “That was most certainly not something Cynthia would do.” The wind in my sail died, and I felt a great amount of shame then.
“Now, now, my friend,” Hera said while patting my shoulder sympathetically, “It was very enjoyable to witness if nothing else.” Only feeling slightly better, I followed Hera’s gaze towards the curtain wall and beheld the army of undead that had been stationed upon it. It seems they had both noticed our arrival, and were currently preparing their tools of retaliation. I pulled my bow out at the sight, though I waited to see if its use would be needed.
“So… how are we doing this?” I pondered aloud as I watched them moments away from engaging us. Before another moment could pass a change in the air occurred, and with a roar Thric dive bombed the wall closets to us. With a beam of octraine energy he reduced its occupants to ash, drawing the attention of most of the army present.
“We aren't.” Hera chipped back. I rolled my eyes at the comment, though I kept my gaze on our foe in case they didn't forget us. Watching as Thric dive bombed another archer line, I realized something curious.
“Where's Wander?” I pondered while shading my eyes from the nonexistent sun, trying to find our wayward companion. I felt a tap on my right shoulder then, and turned to look at Hera… who was currently to my left. She wasn't currently looking at me, though the smile she wore was of someone who knew more than I did. Slowly turning to my right, I found the source of my search right there, as if he had been there the whole time.
“Sup.” He greeted me with a wave of his hand, the other in one of his pockets. The smirk he wore was infectious, though I was too dumbfounded to share it, still trying to figure out how he got there without me noticing. “Gold for your thoughts?” He added while flipping a gold coin from his pocket and into the open air.
“I really want to know your story.” I answered while snatching the coin from the air. Storing it in one of my endless pockets, I turned to Hera with a grin that matched his.
This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.
“You’re gonna have to earn that story my dear.” Wander responded while giving me a sympathetic pat on the back.
“Well, mayhap's this will add to that progress.” Hera added while starting to walk towards the castle's entrance. I hummed to myself in thought as I followed her, though a question popped into mind that I probably should have asked about awhile ago.
“So what am I up against?” I asked the saint, watching another group of archers and artillery batteries become dust by my dragon friend.
“A lich,” Hera began casually, like she was describing the local wildlife, “Likely a mage that underwent the dark ritual of undeath, becoming a thing that feeds on souls to survive.”
“That sounds awful.” I commented quite lamely, unsure on how to feel about that description. Hera gave a chuckle before continuing.
“They are immortal, resurrecting upon their corporeal destruction within a few days, the length depending upon how fed their phylactery is.” Hera explained as we casually dodged a few arrows shot our way. Thric disintegrated them then, and we continued on as if nothing had happened. “They are also incredibly powerful spell-casters specializing in the school of Necromancy, quite naturally, and I've yet to meet one that doesn't love surrounding themselves with minions of the dead variety.”
“So Undead creatures and Magecraft. Both of which I've never dealt with. Lovely.” I muttered slightly before lightly shaking my head, getting my thoughts back to where I needed them to be if I was going to do this.
“What’s a phylactery?” I Inquired after dissecting Hera’s words. We made our way towards the keeps entrance, and to say it was guarded would be an understatement. Over three-hundred armored skeletons armed with spears and swords stood at its guard, and upon watching our group casually stroll up to them they suddenly charged our way.
“A vessel that houses the user's soul.” Hera answered casually before waving my next question off. “Don't worry about that however, as I doubt it's anywhere near within our grasp. Might even be in another dimension if he's smart or paranoid enough.” Hera replied while Thric landed right in front of the charging cadavers, and before I could use my bow to help, a sweep of eldritch colored energy eliminated the entire ground force the dead possessed. He took flight immediately afterwards, and it was clear to me he was fine on his own.
“Great. Any other advice?” I inquired after as we stepped through the molten remains of our foe and towards the keeps open doors.
“Be quick, be confident, and never fear the End.” That final word, the way she said that final word was strange. Like she was talking about something specific, and not broad like a word like that might call to mind. I was tempted to press on that word, but as we entered the crypt-keep Wander suddenly pulled ahead and began to lead us through these dead halls.
“Huh,” I murmured out as we continued our so far casual stroll. “Considering the amount of animated dead outside, I thought we'd be up to our necks in corpses.” The keep suddenly and violently shook then as dust fell around us. A monstrous roar then echoed through the halls as the keep shook once more, though an awful crashing sound followed it soon after.
“Thric is most certainly keeping most of the lich’s forces occupied, though I do agree that we should be running into some tertiary guards.” She then tilted her head towards Wanders direction as he continued to navigate us. “You wouldn't have anything to do with this, would you?” Wander gave a lazy wave towards Hera’s question.
“Noooooo, I didn't do anything like that.” He practically sang out as we passed what seemed to be a pair of shattered blades that appeared to be part of some strange contraption inside keeps walls. I couldn't see his smile, though I could hear it. And it was large indeed.
“So where's are destination?” I inquired as we made another turn.
“Here.” Our guide said as we stood in front of a massive double decker door that seemed made of pure iron.
“Well then my friend, this is all yours now.” Hera told me as she placed a hand on my shoulder, giving me an encouraging smile as she did so.
“Great.” I mumbled out. I quickly gave a hard shake as I slapped the sides of my head, trying my best to get ready for my first real challenge. Giving Hera a nod that I was ready I walked over to the double doors and kicked them hard. Surprisingly, it worked and the doors flew open and slammed on to either side of the doorframe.
“Not Iron after all.” I thought briefly as I entered the large room. And it was very large, easily a good sixty cubic feet around, though in the darkness I was unsure how I could see so easily into it. Six giant detailed stone pillars held up the room, giving what should have been a grand entrance a disturbing and oppressive weight as the small torchlight there showed how little there should be visible. And at the center of that area was a single throne, upon which sat the black-robed skeleton from before.
It bore in its death grip a bone staff as dark as its robes, and though I had planned on yelling out a challenge at the thing, my voice died as I approached. For I had looked into its empty eyes, and felt a chill creep up my spine. The temperature plummeted then as the mage slowly stood, and with a whisper from the grave it spoke.
“You have been sent to die.” The sound was awful. It didn't come from the skull of the thing but from inside it, like some dark mouthpiece was hidden within. It sounded so far away as well, yet I understood it as if it was being whispered in my ear. So caught up in the experience I was, that it took me an embarrassing amount of time to center myself, yet already I was having doubts. Perhaps if I was a hero who had bested countless foes before I would be ready for this challenge, yet as someone who was still trying to prove myself this felt like an impossible hill to climb.
“It seems I’ve taken your voice,” The thing said with a shrill laugh, “Now I'll take your soul.” It proclaimed as it raised its staff and the floor behind it shattered, a shadow rising from the concealed hole. A moment later and the skeleton frame of a dragon stepped forth. Its eyes were hollow, its skin gone as bone glistened under torch-light, and it was easily as large as Thric was. The lich raised its staff-less hand then as it turned its body into shadow and entered the dragons.
A moment later and the darkness cloaked the dragon like skin, while those hollowed eyes filled with an evil red. It roared then, soundless as it was, the pressure sent cracks throughout the chamber, and I flinched as the air in the room tried to suffocate me while the Unlife energy of the thing tried to smother my soul. Though I still held doubt, It was the understanding that the me of before would have crushed this creature that steadied me. Cynthia could do this. So I needed to do this.
Drawing an arrow to my bow, I watched the dragon rear up before lunging for me, its jaws ready to crush me completely. And yet…
The jaws clamped down, crashing into the floor where I had been and destroying the area with force alone. Next to the impact crater I watched curiously as the dragon reared up again. Though nothing existed of the dead to let something like an expression show, I felt like a sense of confusion was there. The corpse lunged at me again, and once more it missed its mark for I had leapt aside with what felt like minimal effort. Taking this opportunity, I fired at the dragon from my perch alongside the nearest pillar, from which I had leapt to. Though gravity should have sent me falling, I found it simple to stick to the pillar's side. With rapt attention I watched the arrow pierce the dragon's skull. Unfortunately, it didn't seem to do anything as the thing lunged for me again. Like a viper it struck the pillar and shattered it, sending the rubble flying as it tried to catch me.
But I was gone long before it struck, having moved to the pillar across the way. I lined up another three shots and let them fly. They all struck true long even before the lich had finished its last attack, and when it turned to look my way I sent another arrow into its eye. It didn't flinch, but it seemed I earned its ire as the dragon held up a hand and began to speak in a language I didn't think mortals could utter. In its palm energy condensed and formed into rings of scripture. I shot another two arrows, one into its hand and another into its throat, and though they pierced through and inflicted damage, the spell finished after its sixth verse after all the same.
A red, sixty foot radius ring appeared. It engulfed the entire room with its deathly light, and before I could let out a meager “eep!”, the entire area exploded with a black, crackling surge of Unlife power. My skin began to necrosis, my insides felt like they were rotting, and what I could only assume to be my soul flickered like a candle in the wind. If I were not Cynthia, not a simple mortal, I would have died on the spot I thought, and several times over at that.
But this body wasn't mortal, or at least I was convinced more than ever that this was the case. Because in the end it was the sudden shock that had me lose my grip on the pillar, and not the damage itself. The dragon lunged for me as I fell, yet a quick pivot in the air and I was ready for the moment the dragon was an inch away from me. Using its head as a springboard to launch myself, I appeared on the pillar to my right as the one I was on crumbled like its predecessor before.
I fired several more missiles into the side, attempting to penetrate the spine of the beast with the quantity of arms instead of the quality of their strength. Unfortunately the thick plates of bone that covered the dragon's body were tough, and it was clear that quality would be needed here. It was at this thought that the dragon-mage turned towards me, and with an evil smog dripping from its mouth it exhaled its vile cloud towards me. Once more time seemed to slow as the Unlife cloud bellowed towards me, and with little effort I disappeared to the other side of the pillar. The cloud seemed to linger after its release, though it only stung a little as I jumped to the pillar across from me in an attempt to get away from its effects.
It seemed the mage was understanding what was happening though, because just as it finished releasing the smog it stood on its hind legs. Suddenly, several dozen purple orbs appeared around the undead, and just as I raised my eyebrows in surprise they suddenly shot forth in all directions like bullets, tearing into the stone around us with ease. Several shot towards my pillar as well, though it was less of a problem than I thought it might be.
I decided that I didn't need to be there, and used the pillar to instead launch myself back towards the dragon. landing on the exposed neck of the beast, I found that the shadows cloaking it possessed some amount of substance. Drawing from that stance I used to snipe that impossible target before, I drew forth an arrow and fired. The shot's power severed the only thing holding the head of the beast together, and it went flying from its owner as the body jerked backwards, falling towards the throne that had so far remained untouched during our conflict.
I landed next to the body, and watched curiously as the shadow drained from the skeleton like water. They coalesced into the lich from before, though he now lay prone on the floor. There was nothing left of the lich’s skin or sinew to show emotion, yet I could feel a thread of fear upon the living dead. Though if it was as immortal as Hera made it out to be, I was curious as to why I would be getting that impression. Especially since the Lich itself seemed completely unharmed.
“W-wait.” The lich muttered as it clawed its way to an upright position, holding out its staff in some feeble attempt to stay me. Curious I stayed my bow, interested to hear what it would say I let it speak. “It seems I made a mistake, great hero. I let pride and… fear get the best of me, but I promise I've learned from this defeat.”
“Well,” I spoke out to the lich, unable to hide my smug grin as I did so, “It seems-”
“Die.” The lich suddenly ordered me with a word that was not merely a word, but was reified. A word of power, described in its totality and made autonomous. Universal. Separate from any context or condition, the lich invoked the ending of my story. And my body obeyed. Organs shut down, brain activity ceased, the thread that connected body and soul was severed. Felled with but a single word, I watched in a dream as a shadowed hand wrote on an old, worn parchment two simple words.
“THE END.”
My body fell forward, my bow dropping from my grip without fanfare, yet something impossible caught me from falling to the floor. Something whispered into my dead ear, a feeling crept into my lifeless heart as someone small and pure, held me around my waist. It was followed with a thought, a dream, where the final words written on an old parchment were suddenly… cut out, with the tip of an arrow head.
So with a gasp I forced my story to continue on. The heart began to beat, lungs filled with oxygen, static filled an empty brain and the soul reconnected to its host. I heaved as blood poured from my mouth, eyes, and ears. I held my hands to my face as agony traced my every moment, yet even then the earth rumbled to my side, and I cleared my vision enough to see the skeletal dragon I had decapitated suddenly rise, rear back a claw, and lunge.
And then a god intervened.
For a single, infinite, transient moment something filled the air. No, not the air, it filled in the gaps of everything. The space between molecules, between thoughts, between concepts, they were filled with a power that was not of this universe but of above and beyond it.
Then the space that surrounded the dragon was crushed down into two dimensions, compounded into the first dimension, and finally smothered into the zeroth dimension. So fast did it happen that I was unsure if a measure of time could be given to the phenomena, and with its passing the mage’s puppet joined it.
Space pulled itself back into form as I turned back towards the lich. Yet they were gone, as if they were never there, and I felt a hot rage rush through me. I cooled myself quickly though, the sound of footsteps approaching drawing my attention. Unable, or perhaps unwilling, to tear my hands away from my blood drenched face, I greeted Hera and Wander with a pretty pathetic grin, even as I simply wanted to lay down a die properly.
“I didn't think you'd learn this particular lesson here my friend,” Hera began as she held a hand to my head, a soft white glow blowing away the static that filled my vision. “But there is something to understand about fighting; that is to say, my Cynthia, to never let your opponent monologue.” She said while using her other hand to gesture to my condition. “As you now know, it never ends well. For either party.” She seemingly added that last line as an afterthought, though I engraved the words into my mind all the same.
I turned towards where the lich had been, a frown now bearing my visage as that hot rage returned.
“He got away.” I muttered grimly.
“So?”
“What do you mean so? I failed, they got away.”
“You forget my friend that even if you had destroyed them, death has no sway over them. The point wasn’t to kill them, but to simply drive them from this land, which you did admirably. Well done Cynthia.” The rage within disappeared instantly, and joy filled me like an empty cup.
Then a slow, condescending, clap filled the room.
“Well done, well done! How moving, how heartwarming a scene! Truly you peasants can still offer something of interest, even if the price of entry is paltry and lame!” I made to grab my bow so I could shoot the source of my annoyance, but Before I could I was stopped… by Wander?
“Sorry kiddo,” Wander said while he and Hera stepped out in front of me. “This one’s beyond your caliber.”
“I'm not a kid.” I muttered as my eyes adjusted towards the one in question, who was in every sense of the word; a kid. A child.
And very, very dead.
The boy sported a twisted mockery of youthful vigor, their body skeletal, wrapped in an ethereal skin carrying the visage of a handsome human male. Upon that ethereal skin the child wore a black suit and sport coat, of which it seemed to flow like the shadows around him. He had the spectral echoes of fair auburn hair, and a pleasant smile with shy eyes were all that seemed to remain of the Lich’s humanity.
He was nothing like the other undead I fought, and while he seemed far less terrifying on the surface there was something about the way he looked at us, the way he stood before us, that sent my fight or flight instincts straight into flight. It was like, just being in his presence was a sentence worse than death.
“The names Niccoli,” Said the boy whose voice rang with youthful tones and pitch, even as the words seemed to come from far away, as if they struggled to be heard by living ears.
“Now my enervated peasants, let's talk.”