The Nekromancer - 96. Chapter 96

“Two gold!”

“Three gold!”

“You’re on!”

The yells and cheers filled his ears as he looked at the mug of ale, his tenth in two hours. All around him, Caydenites were busy drinking and gambling, Cayden’s Hall seeming more like a den of vice than any church. This was their worship, their way of venerating the god of drink and freedom, and this was what Jeremy had devoted his life to. More than a way to take away his pain, this was his way of life, and he was rededicating that life to his god, with a vow to serve Cayden Cailean even after the Trial.

Amnor Sen was gone, the paladin wouldn’t return to him, and it hurt Jeremy, but with every gulp, every drink, it became more bearable, a side effect of his worship. It was a relief for the cleric in some ways. He didn’t have to put up with the elf telling not to drink, or keeping him from visiting certain places within the city. Fuck, for most of their travels, Jakun had more freedom than he did.

He raised the mug, his head swaying as he threw it back. One gulp… two… three… and he swayed heavily, a groan going up from the small crowd surrounding him. Jeremy was out of practice. Amnor Sen always preached temperance, and the cleric hadn’t had an actual drinking competition in years.

“I’m telling you, she said it had nine tails!” a man said loudly nearby.

“There is no way! Even hydra only have five heads!”

“I don’t know what hydra you’ve been hunting…”

Jeremy pushed again, more of the strong ale rushing down his gullet as he drank, a low but steady cheer growing from the crowd as he slammed the empty mug down on the table. The cleric grimaced as the ale threatened to return, fighting his stomach. A spell would end it instantly, but that would be cheating. He needed to sink or swim without magic.

And he failed, the ale rushing back up to cover the table. There was a collective groan around him as coins were traded, a hand smacking his back as he coughed. The world around him spun, Jeremy dropping his head to his hands as he tried to stop the swaying motion… but then it was a fun motion…

His head landed on the table with a loud thud, the cleric’s eyes closing slowly. He blinked, and the world changed, new revellers taking the place of the old. Another blink, and Jakun was there, the catfolk staring impassively, his flesh looking vibrant and healthy. The lich knew better than to show his true self in this place… but there was something the other Caydenites didn’t know.

“I killed a lich,” Jeremy murmured, a bubbly laugh rising to his throat.

He hiccoughed again, fluid erupting at the lich, who whisked it away with a silent spell.

“You said one night. It has been two. Are you coming with me?” Jakun asked quietly.

“No… no, that can’t be right. I only just started drinking two hours ago…?”

“You have been passed out all day. I watched,” Jakun frowned.

“Don’t you start complaining about my worship,” the cleric slurred, picking his head up off the table. “I can handle my drink, and I’m seeing wonders right now…”

Jakun shrugged, standing up.

“You can come with me, or you can take the trial on your own. Or better yet, you can back out and save your life.”

“Is that a dare kitten?”

“It is a request. Come, go, stay, all I care about is you remaining alive.”

“Well that makes two of us then,” Jeremy groaned, rising unsteadily to his feet. “Come on then. I’ve fought worse off than this.”

“I would prefer you were fully sober,” Jakun shrugged. “But from what I hear, you need to have alcohol to cast, so maybe this will be an improvement.”

“Damned right this is an improvement. Hey… if you die, tell that bastard elf… you tell him I love him…” Jeremy grunted, stumbling toward the door. “What were you even doing for two days?”

“I visited the church of Pharasma,” Jakun shrugged. “I gave her my apologies, and a promise. Once my job is done, I will return to her for whatever punishment she deems fitting.”

“Kinky kitten…” Jeremy laughed.

They left the Hall, celebrations still erupting throughout the temple, a drinking hall that never slept. Jeremy could feel a sense of power rushing through him as they neared the massive cathedral in the center of the Ascendant Court, like he could do anything, be anything, if he just pushed himself. It was a heady feeling, and the cleric took a deep breath, bathing in the sensation. Here was a place of untapped potential, and for the briefest moment, he felt what it must be like to be a god.

A pair of guards approached, grey cloaks billowing in a nonexistent wind. It was a cool effect, a dramatic effect, and Jeremy wished he could have a cloak like that. He would have looked so much better with that kind of cape.

“Greetings Jeremy Fairchild and Jakun Amurrun. You seek to test yourselves against the Cathedral. Be warned that once you enter, your lives will be forever changed. Deification is not the only reward you may find. Everlasting rest, untold riches, a sense of unending shame, all of these have been found within this place, and no one who enters will leave the same.”

The cleric wondered briefly how they had found their names, though it didn’t matter much. He was ready to enter, excited to see what lay beyond, and they were only slowing him down.

A guard murmured something to Jakun, the lich paling as his flesh lost its luster. Jeremy wanted to know what the man had said to the amurrun, but he was too busy listening to the other guard.

“Drink is never a reliable substitute for courage. Fear affects us all, and you may find that your courage gets you killed. Trust yourself and your god, but do not be foolish.”

The cleric frowned deeply, but nodded slowly. The guard was right. But it didn’t change what he was about to accomplish.

The Greycloaks stepped aside, the doors to the Cathedral opening into gloom. Jeremy tried to peer within, a feeling of unease washing over him, but he could see no further than a few feet.

“Let your Trials begin.”