Chương 26: Chapter 25: Keeping Up Pretenses

++The sense of isolation in my new era was not something that ever bothered me significantly, I had never needed others before. Or, rather, had always thought of myself as someone who did not need others. I was content to leave the past behind me. This did not mean that the past had forgotten about me, however. ++ - From the writings of Isabel Vornholt, 'The Great Lich'. 1, 891 A. E"Everyone get to the centre of the room," I called out.

Being identified by the Grandmaster had made me resolve to take my childish act more seriously even than I did already, but this emergency took precedence over that. Long-term secrecy would win me no advantage if whatever entity I was trapped with down here managed to claim victory over me, maybe destroy me, because I failed to organise the few allies I had.

"Why should we listen to you?" one of the apprentices snapped, trying to look at me and apparently struggling due to the glare of my magic. I could have argued, but there was simply no time. The fog was closing fast, too fast. We had at best a few minutes before it was on us and this imbecile seemed content to waste that time. Even seconds was too much to lose. So I struck him in the head with a magic missile of a new kind, an experimental type I had been working on.

This one did not hit him with physical force, instead exploding on impact with his head. As it did, it unravelled into pure mana that washed through him and worked an illusion. That was the intention, at least, but I had not been developing this technique for very long. The boy planted his feet and began punching himself in the face, blood soon welling from his nose as he stumbled into the centre of the room.

This appeared to confuse the other apprentices, and earned a good deal of panicked stares sent my way, but nonetheless achieved my basic goal of removing the one thing contradicting me.

"In the middle," I demanded.

"What did you do to him?" Another boy asked, though he was already melting with fear. The others were, too, and I saw that all were heading to the room's middle as I had demanded.

"I tried to make him go to the middle," I replied. Honesty did not seem like such a bad approach in this case.

"As you can see, the spell was…imperfect. But he will recover soon." Even as I said it, I could see the boy blinking away his confusion. That was the actual reason for my using illusion on him instead of pure evocation, a concussion took so very long to fade away.

"This spell's not imperfect," another of the apprentices snarled as he gestured at the fog creeping closer to us. By my conjured light, it seemed to be more crimson than black or brown. Like bloody mist. That, I thought, was a clue, but not one I had the time to dissect just yet.

"We do not know how perfect it is until we have tried to find its failure points," I replied.

"Let us begin." I led by example and began gathering up my mana, forming it into solid aether before hurling it out ahead of me as a barrier. Even now, I could only manage a foot of clearance between myself and wherever I wanted to solidify the material, but I was able to compensate for that by weaving a secondary spell effect to keep the aether levitating ahead of me, slowly moving it towards the fog. I saw the substance hit my aether and pause, flowing around it rather than through.

"See?" I asked the group.

"Aether can block it. Who here can make aether?" Fortunately, I got a faster response this time than I had been enjoying so far. Perhaps the approaching danger was making my fellow apprentices more sensible. Perhaps I was actually winning them over as a leader. The specifics mattered less than their obedience. Aether came up in overlapping plates, though without any of the coordination that allowed trained magicians to truly wall themselves and each other off from harm.

It slowed the fog, but with so many gaps between the magical barrier, tendrils of crimson were still slipping by to snake their way towards us. We could not sustain this forever. My magic missile struck one and passed harmlessly through it, as I had thought it might. I tried another, this time one of my experimental illusory attacks, but it did nothing either. Other apprentices were mimicking my efforts, cycling through magic missiles I had never seen before, some trying other spell matrixes entirely.

All of us switched from one style to another, hurling everything we had at the enemy with growing panic, hoping something would work. If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. None of it did. The tendrils came closer, and now they were within arm's reach of me. I stumbled back, then found my shoulders hitting the other apprentices as they did the same. There was no more room to move, and panic set in instantly.

It took less than a second for someone to shove me, and with my body as small as it was, and no chance to defend myself with mana, I went stumbling right into the fog. Everything went dark in an instant. Suddenly I was weightless, and felt nothing touching my skin. The dungeon seemed to fade away, even the sounds of my brief allies' screams disappeared. Everything around me, my entire universe, seemed to have become an endless void. It was familiar, and extremely unpleasant.

I felt a wisp of panic, which only made me angrier than ever, and began whipping around what I could only assume was my head in the effort of seeing something other than total darkness.

"What are you?" came the voice I had heard before, now the farthest thing from sourceless. I heard it emanating from all around me, like a whole chorus of hidden watchers were calling out at once. And yet I knew it was only one being, and could feel only one presence. Could feel it studying me. I do not like being the fly in the web, and I do not take well to being placed in situations that I do not like. This being wanted to antagonise me? Fine. It would get its antagonist.

"What are you?" I asked back.

"I do not have any reason to introduce myself to something that will not introduce itself to me."

"Hm…Not a child, certainly. Not a real one. You are too fearless to be a child."

"Perhaps you are simply too harmless to make me fearful." Laughter rang out after that, though it was just as grating as the questions. Like fingernails on those chalkboards modern schools tended to use. The being spoke again.

"You are in no place to mock me. I can see you, but I cannot see your Vessel. You're hiding it, even as your mana oozes free, you're hiding it. A mask of some sort, impressive work—but I would know with whom I speak." This was pure theatre of the sort I had once used, lurking in the shadows and speaking from every direction at once. It wanted me worried.

"Then show yourself, and we can both be satisfied," I replied emotionlessly, giving it curiosity instead.

"Or do you think you need the advantage of obscurity while knowing me?" A lengthy pause followed, and I spent a moment wondering if I had pushed this being too far.

"You speak like you are accustomed to being obeyed." It was an observation, not a question. That needled me. I did not like being misjudged, but I especially loathed being judged correctly.

"Then satisfy my preference, and you may find out who you are speaking to. We will both be happier for it." As things were, I was entirely under this creature's power and had no way of escaping, or harming it. There was nothing that could worsen my situation, and so nothing to lose by showing it my magic in exchange for more information.

"On three, then? I show you mine, and you show me yours."

"That is a strange thing to say to someone who looks like a child. I am deeply disgusted by you, and I hope you perish in agony. That said, yes, on three." The count came, and I prepared to draw back my shield and see what this strange entity was. I could feel a change around me and see magic at work, which told me that either this being was preparing to make good on its word, or it was preparing to kill me. And then we saw each other. The creature was a person, or had been once. A human.

Its skin was now thin and pulled taut about the bones, eyes shrivelled, everything about it mummified and withered by age. It looked like a remarkably well-preserved corpse, because it was. As the first of all liches, I recognised my own kind when I saw it. I recognised this one in particular, personally.

"For centuries I have slumbered," he intoned as his dead eyes rolled in the sockets to fall on me.

"Who dares awaken—holy shit, Lord Dread?"

"Yes," I told him. His panic worsened.

"What—how are you here? The Gods, they destroyed you!"

"No they did not." I found myself genuinely infuriated at the very thought.

"As if those monkeys could possibly do more than delay me, they made the mistake of trying to seal me away instead. I escaped, and now I am prepared to reclaim my rightful place as master over the universe." He seemed to be getting more distressed, not less, to hear that.

"You're back then? Back for good?"

"I am back for good, Sascithius." I recognised him easily now, of course. His cowardly streak, his manner of speaking, all were known to me well enough to be dead giveaways on their own. And I had long since learned to recognise people by bone structure for…obvious reasons. Sascithius was an old apprentice of mine, and among the more magically gifted. As well as the least useful. We had not parted on good terms.

"I see. Then I should get out of your hair, uh I mean—no, your…hair, yes." It would have been amusing to see him tripping over himself at my new body, but right now I was more concerned with survival. Because my former apprentice was now orders of magnitude stronger than me in terms of magical output, and the only reason I could imagine for him not acting on that fact was that blind panic at my identity was overruling his higher reasoning. That would not last forever, panic never did.

"Release me, and I will forget I saw you," I said, as quickly as I could without letting him hear any urgency in my voice. There was a hesitation before I got my answer, the worst thing I could have heard.

"You're not hiding your power anymore, are you? You're actually just like that." Oh dear.

"I do not have time for your nonsense," I told my former apprentice.

"You are threatening my cover at this Institute, and if you make me exert the magic needed to stop you by force then I will ensure the act of doing so is as painful for you as possible. This is your final warning." Another pause, a longer one. It dragged out like the moment of starting to fall, those sluggish instants where gravity seemed to be deciding whether or not it would drag you down.

"I don't remember you ever talking this much before, Lord Dread. I don't see why you'd start now just over little old me. You're totally powerless right now, aren't you?" Oh dear indeed.