The Nekromancer - 104. Chapter 104

“The following trials are philosophical in nature. You do not have to worry about losing, just follow your heart,” Aofe said as they passed through the latest door.

The next room contained a pile of weapons and armour, a spellbook sitting on the top. Jakun could almost feel the magical energy pouring from the gear, and he wondered what it was doing sitting here.

“You can take this gear if you’d like. There is nothing bad that would happen to you,” Aofe said. “But, I would strongly suggest that you leave it here.”

The lich was confused. It was gear that he was free to take. And it would presumably help him in the trials ahead. Why wouldn’t he take it?

“I should arm myself at least,” Jakun said, approaching the pile.

“The choice is entirely yours,” Aofe said.

Shrugging, Jakun began digging through the gear, pulling on a robe that fell nearly to his ankles. Instantly the catfolk felt power coursing through him, enough that he felt he could destroy armies if called upon to do so. It was a heady feeling, and as his hand closed around a bow, Jakun smiled. It felt good to be powerful again. The vulnerability that had been dogging him since Jeremy fell was gone, and with luck, it would never return again.

He scanned through the spellbook, a copy of both of his old books combined into a single tome. It was child’s play to follow the notes, and memorize his spells, and Jakun tucked the book into a hip holster, before looking at what remained.

Bracers, cloth boots, a couple of rings. Each went on his body, sending more and more energy into the catfolk, until he was confident that whatever came next he would survive.

He straightened up with a gleaming smile, and Jakun approached the next door, looking at Aofe. She made no remark, no sign of displeasure at his choice, and the amurrun found himself wondering why he had been advised to leave the gear behind. Not that it really mattered yet. If there was a cost to taking it, he was sure he’d find out soon enough.

“The next room will test your values. There is no way to fail, you must follow your heart,” Aofe said.

Jakun nodded before stepping through the door. He found himself standing before a mage, power emanating from the wizard in waves that made his new gear seem pathetic. A sheet of paper was on a table, a quill sitting beside it.

“I have a proposal for you. You wish to gain power, to become a god. I can offer you that power. But it will come with a price. For seven years and seven months, you will become my slave, beholden to me alone as I train you,” the mage said to him, motioning toward the sheet. “At the end of your contract, you would be free to pursue your own life. Think long and hard about your decision. If you would accept, sign your name and I will meet you on the other side of these trials. If you refuse, you have but to walk through that door.”

Slavery… just the thought of going through it again left a horrendous taste in his mouth. But there was so much power here, and he only had to wait seven years. It was tempting, and Jakun found himself seriously considering the offer. What would this mage have to teach him? If he survived, Jakun would be a god. But perhaps this man knew secrets of divinity. Maybe he could help Jakun learn what it meant to be divine.

Still, the thought of being enslaved… he was a lich, and seven years was miniscule in the aeons that he would live, even if he failed to become a god.

Looking at Aofe, the amurrun swallowed tightly, before reaching for the quill.

“I’m sorry Mom…” he said, before signing away his freedom once again. “It won’t be for long.”

The paper vanished, Jakun blinking in surprise. The mage was gone, and he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do now. Finish the trials?

“Wait, if we’re in my mind… this contract wouldn’t be binding, assuming he ever existed in the first place… What was this for then? What is the purpose of any of this?” he demanded.

Aofe didn’t answer, merely motioning toward the next door. Jakun stepped through, frowning at the sight of a bleeding man sitting beside a woman’s corpse.

“Oh thank the gods…” the man coughed. “We just got our asses kicked in the next room and we had to run. Left my holy avenger in there, and a haversack with several rods inside… Is there any way you can go get them for me? I already know I’m not cut out for this, but if I can get my things back, I can probably make it out of here in one piece.”

“What were you running from?” Jakun asked, looking at the door.

“White elder wyrm.”

The catfolk let out a short snort, nodding. Frost attacks. They hadn’t affected him in the real world, and there was no reason to believe they would here.

“I’ll get your blade. Don’t die before I return.”

“I’ll try not to,” the man laughed weakly. “Thank you.”

Jakun shrugged as he walked through the door, his eyes widening as he emerged on a mountain in a blizzard. There was a large cave in front of him, fog billowing out of the dark. He could see through the dark, but that fog was going to be a problem. He could feel abjuration magic radiating out from the cave, and Jakun took a moment to formulate a plan.

He couldn’t just go in there blindly, but his breeze spell wouldn’t touch this fog. The catfolk was entering a dragon’s lair, where it was at its strongest, and cold immunities or not, this fight would be difficult.

But maybe he could make it easier.

Cupping his hands, Jakun yelled into the cave, his eyes straining to see through the fog.

“Hey! You have something that I need! I don’t want to hurt you, so if you give it back, I’ll just go!”

His yell echoed through the cave, a grim laugh returning. The amurrun felt his fur stand up. A bolt of lightning struck the ground beside him, electricity travelling through his body. Jakun felt nothing, as though the attack hadn’t even happened, and he let out his own laugh. Electricity resistance was not one of the abilities he had known he had. It made this a little easier. What did the dragon have left to fight him with, save for bites and winged attacks?

The amurrun strung his bow, setting an arrow to the string. He took a step, frowning as his foot sank into the ice below. The catfolk pushed back against the effect, trying to pull his legs out of the ice. It felt almost like an illusion, like his legs weren’t stuck, someone just wanted him to think they were…

And with that thought, that disbelief, he was free, the ice gone, and Jakun let out a relieved breath. Getting trapped in ice was not how he intended to die. That would have been embarrassing for any undead, but for an all powerful spellcaster?

“Got anything else you want to try?”

A head suddenly loomed out of the fog, Jakun throwing himself to the side. He slid over the ice, twisting as his robes aided his dexterity. An arrow shot out at the dragon, Jakun taking an eye out with a satisfied grunt. He pulled a hand off the bow, pulling on energy that seemed to flow easy as water through him.

“Ixen garmth!”

A tiny spark shot from his hand, flying into the dragon’s face. It erupted into a flaming explosion, the dragon roaring as its face was seared. Jakun didn’t wait for the attack to fade before launching his most powerful attack, the very same spell that had killed Jeremy now turned to the catfolk’s use.

“Xkhat bilaes!”

A ray of blinding green light flew from his finger, striking the dragon’s side. The scales where it hit exploded into a fine dust, the effect spreading until nearly every scale on the dragon was gone. He cast the spell again, the second ray destroying flesh and bone, until nothing was left of the dragon but frozen dust.

The lich looked down at his vanquished foe, knocking some dust off his boot. That seemed almost too easy, and he was wary about heading into the actual lair.

To his relief, Jakun found the longsword and the bag only a few steps into the cave. Picking them up, he turned around, heading back through the door. On the other side, Aofe appeared beside him, looking at her son.

“You don’t have to give them back,” she said.

Jakun frowned, looking at his mother. That wasn’t like her. Aofe was kind and generous, not selfish. And it drove home the fact that his guide was not actually his mother, but a figment of his imagination given form.

“And what would I do with a holy sword?” he said quietly.

“Sell it. Use the gold for your own betterment. The rods would be of great use to a mage.”

The catfolk turned to look at the adventurer, still nursing his wounds. Their eyes locked, and a look of wary hope appeared on the man’s face. Jakun couldn’t deny that the rods would be useful, but then, he had just killed a dragon with nothing more than a couple spells. He didn’t need the rods to be powerful.

Approaching the adventurer, Jakun handed over the gear, flinching as claws raked his back. He spun around, arcane words on his lips as the amurrun summoned a tiger. The beast launched itself at Aofe, teeth crunching as it bit into her, and the catfolk let out a scream, her bloody claws receding.

“I surrender!”

“Do not push me. You are a guide, nothing more, and regardless of appearance, I will not hesitate to finish you if you strike me again,” Jakun said coldly, pushing through the panicked thoughts that he was killing his mother again.

He snapped his fingers, sending the tiger away, and turned back to the adventurer. The lich frowned at the sight of the man running away, and he shook his head slowly as another door appeared.

Stepping toward the door, Jakun prepared himself mentally, hoping that his task would soon be finished. He was growing weary of this never ending path, yet he continued to push onward.