MerlinPendragon
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Lv.1 Lich
🕑 Added 2024-06-09 12:19:44 +0000 UTCChapter one: Death
I awoke in the dark to screaming. Metal rang on stone and ceramic shattered.
I got up with a start, or I tried to, I was pinned to my bed by my chest.
flailing my arms I tried to untangle myself from the covers. Except there were no covers, there was no bed. Beneath me was only a hard marble floor who’s cold touch was only diminished by the hot, sticky liquid that surrounded me.
Icy hands gripped my heart, banishing the last of my sleep.
By the light of a dying candle I looked down at myself.
A knife handle stuck straight up from my chest, right above my heart. Panicking I reached for it trying to pull it out.
Two hundred years ago I had discovered a magical pendant which could heal someone from any injury so long as it had gold. I had attached a special enchantment to it which contained several tons of pure gold so It should be able to save me so long as I got this damn knife out.
Wiggling it back and forth rapidly I was able to dislodge it from the mortar beneath me and yank it free.
I expected pain but there was none. I was in shock, I must be. It was something I had read about but never experienced in over a thousand years of life.
I let out a breath, trying to calm myself. Now that the knife was out I would heal. I couldn’t believe that I wasn’t already dead, something to think about later, right now I was too frazzled.
“Where am I?” I thought.
This was not my room, the floor was marble, the drapes were velvet, and there was a four poster bed behind me. I hadn’t used such opulent furniture in over eight hundred years before I got over myself. That and the other wizards thought I was an arrogant ass. A shudder of embarrassment went down my spine at the thought. Stop, I was rambling.
Taking another breath I returned to the question at hand, where was I?
Images came to me in a rush, I was in a guest room at the palace. The king had asked for my aid. I could have ignored him and remained in my tower but the last time I had done that one of his predecessors had raised the prices for all my supplies, or that might have been the civil war he was so worried about. Being an Archmagus I hardly concerned myself with worldly affairs but I was in need of some more spell components at the moment so I thought I might drop by. I was regretting that now.
The healing should be done so I climbed to my feet. My movements were jerky and imprecise but what could one expect after such a rude awakening. The light was flickering so I looked toward its source, a candle on its side surrounded by the remains of a teapot, the tea slowly encroaching on the fire.
I lurched over to the door, cursing whoever ruined my cotton pajamas as I fumbled with the candle, eventually managing to put it back in the holder and on a side table. Now that the panic had fully subdued, faster than I had expected but no matter, I was able to turn my analytical eye to the scene I found myself in.
Looking at the bed - it was ruffled and blankets were pulled off in the direction of the puddle of blood nay, a veritable lake. I shivered at that.
This was an assassination, clearly. I had cast a protective ward around my bed, it remained undisturbed but the lesser ward I had around my person had been completely dispelled. That took quite some doing, looking at the knife in my hand I could see how. A ward breaking enchantment had been placed on it. Not only was it powerful but it was keyed to my exact ward. I had tweaked the spell over the years making many improvements to it. The power of the knife implied only another Archmagus could have created it, or perhaps a master enchanter but they wouldn’t have been able to key it to me. This was someone I knew, perhaps the Archmagus of the black tower? He seemed interested in my research into componentes magic.
No this must have been done by someone with close ties to the kingdom as it was still the middle of the night and a maid had brought tea. Either she was in on it or she had been sent to discover the body. Luckily for me I had told no-one about my pendant. I reached around my neck to hold it for comfort. Nothing was there, my neck was bare.
Before I could think much on it through the open door I heard the jingle of armor followed by the pounding of feet. Finally the Guards were here. I stuck my head out the door, at the end of the hall I could see the light of torches rounding the corner.
A sergeant appeared around the bend, locking eyes. I called out to him. Trying to say everything was fine but all that came out was a low groan that sounded like the call of death.
The sergeant's face went white as he drew his sword.
“Zombie!” He called before charging toward me, the other half dozen following suit.
I jerked back into the room.
“What the hell was happening?” I thought as I struggled with the latch, my fingers feeling thick and heavy. I locked it just in time as a moment later the wood cracked under the force of a charging sergeant. Drawing a diamond from a storage ring, and then another two more before my hands could hold one, I cast a hardening spell on the door. This would only buy me a little time, I had to get out of here.
Remaining in an analytical state of mind, I squashed down any sliver of panic. Reaching again for my neck I found again no pendant. My hand fumbled lower to the wound which remained in the center of my chest. I was dead, truly dead.
Despite my best efforts I spaced out for a moment, this time truly in shock. Only drawn out of it by the banging and shouting which continued on the other side of the door behind me.
“Shit.” I thought. It was all I could think. The undead were a plague on this world and the enemy of all life. Even Archmagi, who were banned from participating in wars between the six civilized kingdoms were expected to act if undead were seen in their territory. No, It was worse than that. I could still use magic, I could still think, that made me a lich.
Whenever a powerful magic user died there was a near infinitesimal chance that it could form a natural lich. Unlike a regular lich, usually a witch or wizard without the power to use the life-extending spells only the greatest magi could use, a natural lich would be hunted by all the Archmagi.
“Shit.”
I needed to return to my tower and disappear before the others found out. I was not going to let a little death part me from my research.
Ignoring the splintering door frame I quickly summoned the ingredients for a teleportation spell, for this spell I only needed to hold the foci so I let the rest fall to the marble tiles.
An onyx to represent the aspect of space. A marked candle to represent the distorting time effect. The hair of a special owl to increase the cast speed. The eyes of a mirage mole to see the target location. The bark of an everlasting oak to protect anything living from disappearing into a spatial distortion. Finally a piece of my carpet (no I dropped it), a chunk of brick (nope that one too), a spare lion’s head knocker to represent my tower (not quite but I can make it work).
Internally chanting the arcane words and focusing the weave around a point two feet in front of me I cast the spell.
A flickering portal grew in front of me, starting from the size of a pea and growing to that of a man in seconds.
Something was wrong however, the edges of the portal fluctuated in and out. The image of my room was superimposed with that of a dungeon and static filled the view.
This wouldn’t do, I needed a better foci. Teleportation may be the most difficult spell yet known and I may be working with less than half the proper ingredients and no inscription but this was just embarrassing. Before I could so much as think of canceling the spell, the door gave way under another charge and the hardened projectile sent me flying toward the portal.
In the blink of an eye I was able to do two things: first I dropped the foci, as soon as it went through the portal the magic would cease. Then I screamed.
As soon as I entered the tear in reality I knew something had gone terribly wrong.
It wasn’t because instead of my tower I found myself in a pitch black void, the only light coming from the still open portal.
It wasn’t because the look of triumph on the guards faces was swiftly replaced by fear as shapeless forms streamed past me and into the material plane.
It wasn’t even the popping sound the portal made when it snapped shut not even a second later.
No, the only thing that occupied my mind was pain. Soul scraping world ending pain.
I would have convulsed if the nothingness around me didn't hold me still as it devoured me piece by tiny piece. My plaid skin dissolved before my eyes, thankfully I couldn’t see the rest of the process as my eyes melted shortly thereafter, leaving me with nothing but pain before that too dissolved until all I knew was darkness.
