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To HelGate - The Legend of House Raithson
Chapter 35 - Frigid, Ancient Terror

Chapter 35 - Frigid, Ancient Terror

Chapter 35

Mikel dropped down behind the desk with a heavy thump. He climbed down as far as he could on the bookcase before his fingers began to ache. When he knew he couldn’t hold on anymore, Mikel decided to drop and roll, hoping he’d be uninjured. The alternative was to have an uncontrolled fall when his muscles gave out. Just before he dropped he wondered if his Stamina had zeroed out yet - and how much the fall of roughly fifteen feet was going to hurt.

His gamble paid off... Somewhat. The elegant roll he’d planned turned into a less than glorious slump, with pain erupting in his left knee and hip as they struck the hard flagstone ground - he was alive and that was all that mattered.

He'd made it out of the maze filled with screaming, writhing creatures hel-bent on killing anything that wasn’t them and collections of shambling corpses intent on doing the same.

After a moment of seething pain, Mikel pulled himself together, leaned back against the bookcase and stuck his boots on the legs of the chair in front of him, pressing hard to flex his sore body. He grimaced as his muscles popped from the stimulation, but the pain soon passed, leaving a dull ache in its place.

Out of curiosity he pulled the slate from his pocket and scrolled back to the status menu he’d found before.

He grimaced at what he found.

His Stamina bar shrunk even more - now reading just 12 / 250 - the red pulse from earlier now increased in frequency by several magnitudes.

He scrolled down and found his Health bar diminished, but not as much as his Stamina. It read 74 / 100 and pulsed green instead of the steady state from before.

“That fall took it out of me,” He said as he slipped the slate back into the pocket. There was no need to look at the Essentia bar - he knew what he’d find.

For a while longer Mikel collected himself, allowing the terror of the past few hours to die away. Although he hadn’t stumbled into The Dread on his way back, he’d kept the thought of its appearance always at the front of his mind. He didn’t know if he could take another assault like on the way into the maze - and was lucky the height of being on top of the stacks allowed him to avoid the awful creatures and terrible feeling. He thought that was the case at least. The rest of the area was in disarray - why wouldn't The Dread be too?

He wondered if Librarian’s disappearance was the reason The Dread failed. He wondered if her disappearance had caused a lot of things.

At any rate there wasn't anything to be done at the moment, but to get the hel out of there while the getting was good.

He sighed and stood, happy to see the books he’d left still on the table. Aside from some dust from the screaming assault from the library they were unharmed.

“I’m going to take a long weekend once this is over,” He said as he made his way around the table, “and I’m going to -”

His voice cut off as a cold hand lit on his shoulder, freezing him in place - all thoughts of leaving, running away or even breathing were rendered inert.

Frigid, ancient terror boiled up within him and made it impossible to move. If he'd thought The Dread was bad, Mikel didn't know. The Dread was like a spring walk in the park compared to the utter desolation conjured up by something standing behind him.

The voice from beyond the grave, frozen and full of ancient might made it clear he couldn't move until it released him. There was no arguing with such a force of nature.

“Hello Mikel,” the voice said - cold and cruel and full of malice. “It’s nice to see you’ve made it through the maze. Did you like my little… Surprise I left to guard the books in that alcove? It took me months to harvest enough material to put that Dead Tide together. Usable material is hard to come by in this horrid place. Did you appreciate my gift? Please tell me you did.”

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Mikel tried to speak, choked and nearly vomited from terror. Whatever was behind him… It was beyond anything he’d ever experienced. The voice sent a chill down his spine as if an arctic blast had manifested out of nothing - the energy rolling off the owner of the voice made the cold even worse.

“Go ahead,” The voice said, “Speak. I will allow it.”

There was only one thing this could be.

“Li - lich. You’re the lich Librarian told me about. You’re… You’re going to kill me.”

The laugh bellowing from the ancient cold behind him was enough to send his heart into a near seizure - it was obvious the laugh had once been strong and full of life - now, it was a cold, dark reflection of the grandeur of what once was.

“I’m not going to kill you, young Raithson,” the lich said, “You’re far too interesting for that. Do you know how bored I've been while stuck in here?”

“The Jewel - The Callisto Jewel -” Mikel sputtered, trying to get words, any words out.

He cut off as the hand shifted from his shoulder to wrap around his neck - the flesh as frigid as icy death.

“I can have that trinket whenever I want. What I needed was a way out - a path out of this god's forsaken place. I’ve learned much in my time here and bypassed the lock Librarian put on knowledge. Did you know her little trick only works on the living? It was her mistake to kill me - now I remember everything.”

The hand squeezed and Mikel saw spots as the blood flow to his brain was cut in half.

“If you’re not going to kill me - why are you here?”

The grip paused and for a deadly second Mikel thought it might just crush the life out of him - but then, ever so slowly it began to pull back.

“Don't you know?" The voice asked, "To thank you. Because of you Librarian is gone from this place and she has little recourse to return. I thank you, Mikel - for you’ve set me free. You've done what I was unable to - Truly remarkable. I imagined you were similar to your father, but my imaginings are dull trinkets compared to the real McCoy.”

The implications for setting something like the lich free weren’t lost on Mikel - if it was strong enough to survive whatever Librarian was, then it could probably destroy nations. Maybe worse. Much worse.

“What are you going to do?” He choked out.

“Do?” The lich chuckled lightly, “I’m going to live. Finally. Or, as much as I can being mostly dead. I’ve been trapped in here for over three hundred years - watching the living come and go as they please - books added and scrolls mixed in with piles of preexisting knowledge. Life has become… Stale. Information gleaned only from books is thin and weak - you need experience Mikel - that’s the key to true knowledge. Anything else is just… Gray.”

The hand dropped away and although Mikel still felt the revolting power pouring off of the lich behind him, he could do nothing. The arresting power of the creature held absolute sway over him. There was no chance of escape, and even less of fighting back even though Mikel railed against the intrusion against his autonomy the lich represented.

“That is my thank you, young Raithson - my gift to you for my freedom. This knowledge gleaned from three hundred years of drudgery - experience is the only thing that matters.”

“And you’re just going to… let me go?”

A chuckle again, “You’re interesting. You made it back here past all my little pets and the Knowledge Conceptuals loosed by Librarian’s absence.

They’re nasty little numbers, but nothing you couldn’t handle. I saw how you cut that first one down. Make sure you check the box it left you - there’s generally a prize for breaking open those kinds of creatures. Sometimes it can be worth your while.”

“And what - you’re going to leave here and… Cause havoc? Kill people? Destroy kingdoms?”

This was the final time the lich laughed in the conversation and it left the impression, as if somewhere inside the creature, there yet existed a shred of humanity. The laugh spoke of genuine joy and mirth buried beneath hoarfrost.

“You are a funny creature. Maybe I’ve just been in here too long - but… I like you, young Raithson. Rest assured my intentions aren’t anything so… Sinister. Just because I’m a cold undead thing doesn’t mean I have to act like it. I’ll be keeping an eye on you - rest assured of that - but, you won’t see me. You won’t hear me. You won’t even think about me until you’re out on your own on a frozen night and feel the breeze cut through you. Then, I’ll be closer than you think.”

The energy shifted around Mikel and with as much speed as he could muster he whipped his sword out and turned in a flash - his internal struggle for freedom let loose in one lightning-fast attack.

He’d meant to strike the lich somewhere vital, but his wicked strike caught only air as whatever had been behind him vanished long before he had a chance to hurt it.

Mikel let his eyes roam the darkened area near the desk as more shrieks echoed from within the labyrinth of books.

There was no sign of the lich.

“Dammit,” He muttered as he shoved his sword into its sheath, “Dammit. I’m so weak. I can’t even…” He could only beat himself up so much - the lich was a powerful creature, more so than he could probably conceive, and he’d made it out of his encounter with the monster, alive.

His hand flitted to the pocket with the small wooden box and he touched it only to pull back and grimace.

Had what the lich said been true? Had any of it been true?

He’d have to find out later - at the moment he needed to get out of the library and find Telgil and let him know what had happened. He couldn’t do anything alone, but he hoped his friend could.