The Nekromancer - 102. Chapter 102

His hand sank into the Stone, the world flashing around him as Jakun was pulled into his own mind. The amurrun let out a shaking gasp as he found himself standing in an empty grey cell, a wooden door sitting closed on the far wall. He was naked, none of his gear travelling with him, and Jakun felt the cold hand of fear strike him. He felt more vulnerable now than he had in months.

A gentle whisper washed over him, a figure forming before the door. Jakun fought back tears as he looked at his mother once more, her body unmarred by any violence. Rushing toward the catfolk, Jakun let out a sob as his arms closed around her, a living, breathing memory that he could not, would not let go of.

“Welcome to your Trials kitten. Here you will face deadly challenges designed to push you, kill you. Should you hold firm and survive, when you emerge, you will be a god. Through these trials are three tests, the test of courage, the test of patience, and the test of perseverance. At times, you will fail. Any failure could lead to your death. But you must have the will to push onward.”

“Why you? How are you here?” Jakun whispered, reaching for Aofe.

“I am a reflection of your mind. A guide to aid you through the greatest challenge you will ever face. This form is one your mind finds calming, if sad, and I will walk beside you to the end, whatever that may be.”

The amurrun held out her hand, the door opening silently. Jakun peered into the darkness uncertainly, before looking at his mother. He didn’t want to leave, he couldn’t leave. Not if it meant never seeing his mother again.

“No, you cannot remain here. Eventually your body will decompose, and you will die. Here, time has been slowed to a crawl, much as your mentor did for you in Nex, but even in your mind you can’t escape the consequences of your actions. Eventually time will catch up to you, and your body will be destroyed by the Starstone. I am dead, kitten. No memory will fix that, and that is all I am. A memory. You must let me go if you are to live.”

He nodded silently, arms squeezing tightly. Another minute holding his mother, and then two minutes. Finally, Aofe gently pried his hands away, nudging him toward the door, and his destiny. Jakun looked back at the catfolk one last time, drinking in the memory of her whole, before stepping forward, the sound of rushing water meeting his ears.

Jakun looked into a dark river, cold and perilous. On the far side was a cliff, a large boulder sitting at the top. It seemed like it would be perfect for damming the river, and his mind instantly latched onto the trial.

“A trial of strength.”

The catfolk stepped into the water, nearly being pulled off his feet instantly. He backed out quickly, his mind trying to come up with a spell he could use to cross the treacherous water.

“Magic is not permitted within the first six tasks,” Aofe said, her body vanishing only to appear on the opposite side of the river.

Whimpering quietly, Jakun took a breath, steeling himself. He was still undead, he didn’t need to breathe. Letting the air rush out of his lungs, the lich stepped into the water, allowing himself to sink to the bottom of the river.

His bare feet touched down, bracing himself against the current, and Jakun slowly trudged forward, pushing through the heavy water. Downstream he could see a drop, hundreds of rocks at the bottom, and instinctively the catfolk knew touching one of those rocks would kill him. It sent a primal thrill through his body, and he pressed harder, each step coming slower than the last until suddenly he could feel the land rising under him.

The lich burst out of the river, crawling onto the dry land with burning legs. He felt exhausted, and Jakun knew he didn’t have what it took to climb the wall he could see overhead. It had to be nearly a hundred feet high, and his body was nude. To climb it would tear his skin to shreds, and though he was undead, the pain would be maddening.

“Mom… Mom, I can’t…”

“You have to try Jakun. Just a little more,” Aofe said, standing next to the lich. “One step at a time, one pull.”

He climbed back to his feet, leaning against the cliff. Slowly, painfully, the lich pulled himself up, claws reaching for tiny nooks. Rock dragged over flesh, bloody gouges forming in his hands and feet, and the amurrun had to pause continually, trying to rest his arms as his blood dripped from his body.

Suddenly his hand slipped, the amurrun tumbling near forty feet. He landed on his back, curling into a ball as a stab of pain ran through his body. It was impossible, and he was so close to giving up, on the first trial. Who was he to think he could survive this? He was a slave, not a god. To believe otherwise was madness.

“If you cannot succeed, then give in. It is not the end just yet,” Aofe said quietly.

Jakun winced, looking up at the cliff. One more try. He could manage that, couldn’t he? It would make failure more manageable if he tried just one more time.

Crawling to his feet, the amurrun began climbing again, putting his feet into small crevices, pulling himself up by his fingers, one pull at a time. Minutes passed as he worked, until he suddenly felt air under his hand.

Jakun slipped again, terror gripping him as he found no purchase. His body dangling at the top of the cliff by one hand… and then three fingers… and then he was falling, the air rushing around him as he screamed. The lich landed again at the base of the cliff, his body broken, his eyes squeezing shut as he finally gave up.

His eyes opened with a start, Jakun sitting up in another cell. He looked around in terror, hands travelling his body, searching out any injuries. He was alive, whole…

“You failed the first trial,” Aofe said beside him. “There are four more ahead. Take a moment, recover your senses, and we will continue. The next test is awareness, and may be more suited to your skills.”

Jakun took a steadying breath, before standing up.

“I would like to move on,” he said quietly. “Please.”

“As you wish,” Aofe dipped her head, opening the door.

The amurruns stepped through together, Jakun taking in the sight of a similar cell, with a single man within. A table sat between them, three cups set on the surface.

“Please sit,” the man said with a small smile. “I would like to play a game. If you win, you may pass through the door on the other side of the room. If you lose, I will take your life.”

Jakun gulped, but stepped forward, kneeling before the low table. His tail flicked uneasily as he scanned the table, eyes zeroing in on a red marble.

“There is a single marble on the table. In a moment, I will hide it in the center cup, and then rotate the cups. You will then choose a cup, and we will see if the marble is there. If it is, you win,” the man said.

He lifted up the three cups, showing that they were empty, before covering the marble with the center cup.

“Now, watch closely.”

The cups blurred suddenly, their motion far too fast to follow, and Jakun closed his eyes as a wave of dizziness struck him. When his eyes opened, the cups were motionless, the man smiling at him as he waited.

“Now tell me Jakun, is the marble in the center cup?”

He had no idea… no one could have followed that, it was impossible… and the man knew it. The test wasn’t about his eyesight, it was about his awareness, and even his ability to reason. If the man didn’t want him to know where the marble was, why would he suggest the center cup?

Jakun looked at the man, staring into his eyes, the impassive orbs gazing back at him. There was nothing there, no hint, no flicker pointing to another cup. His foe knew where the marble was, and by offering a cup, he admitted as much.

But was the marble inside it? What did he have to gain if Jakun was wrong? What would he gain if Jakun was right? There was nothing, he was completely neutral. And Jakun realized there was no reason he would mislead the catfolk.

“Yes,” he said firmly.

“Your logic is faulty. There are hundreds of reasons I might mislead you. But…”

The cup was moved, the marble sitting underneath.

“You were lucky,” the man smiled. “You may continue to your next trial.”

Letting out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, Jakun rose, stepping around the table. He could feel the man watching him as he left the room, stepping into yet another cell.

The door on the far side of the room opened, and a gray cloaked woman entered, cord in her hands. She grabbed Jakun’s wrists, tying them together as the catfolk struggled. Nothing he did could break her grip.

“What is the meaning of this?! Why are you binding me?” he demanded.

The woman refused to answer, taking him to another room. She locked him to a wall, before leaving the room and closing the door. Jakun struggled briefly with the bindings before letting his body relax. He could get out of this. He had to get out of this.

Thinking, the amurrun let a claw slip out, testing it against the rope holding him. A few moments of poking around caused the strands to snap, and Jakun shrugged off the rope, looking at the door. He wasn’t sure how he was supposed to escape. There was a spell in his book that would have opened the door easily, but the catfolk wasn’t allowed to use magic.

Still, Mythara had explained the basic principle of locks to him when he learned the spell. Jakun figured it couldn’t be too hard to figure out how to pick this particular lock. There was even a set of lockpicks sitting on the floor next to the door. It honestly felt like a trap, and Jakun frowned as he looked between the door and the picks.

He stepped up to the door, staring at the handle. It looked like a normal lock, and he couldn’t see any traps on it. Yet the amurrun couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that something was about to go horribly wrong.

Picking up the lockpicks, the catfolk knelt in front of the door, testing the lock. He heard a sudden click, and flinched, expecting a trap to go off. When nothing happened, the amurrun let out a relieved sigh, testing the door.

It rattled quietly, lock engaged, and Jakun frowned, trying to look inside the lock. He hadn’t exactly expected to unlock the door, but the way it clicked, something had to have happened. And then he realised he had never heard the door lock in the first place.

Closing his eyes, Jakun bit back a yell as he sank against the door. He had locked himself in, and now he had to figure out how to undo the tumblers inside the lock, from the wrong side. Maybe it was as easy as sliding a bolt… but there was no bolt to slide either. This lock wasn’t one Mythara had shown him, and Jakun had to give up. There was no way out of this room.

Time passed, an unknowable length, as the lich waited for whatever death was coming. Finally, the door opened, and his captor stepped inside.

“You fail. Leave now,” she said.

Jakun didn’t have to be told twice. The catfolk fled from the room, tail tucked in fear as he realised that he had failed two trials. He was not going to make it through the tasks at this rate.

Another door opened, darkness beckoning, and Jakun dove inside, mentally preparing himself for whatever task was coming next. He found himself in Loran’s practice room, the necromancer standing in a conjuration circle, and Jakun’s hackles raised.

“You cannot touch him,” Aofe said, his mother materializing before him. “For this test, you must keep him alive. Enemies will spawn through the portal over there, and you must tell him how to survive their attacks and kill them. If he dies, so do you.”

Jakun let out a quiet growl, but stepped toward another circle. He was careful not to smudge the chalk as he entered, the catfolk staring at the man who had started all of this, who had driven him to such atrocities.

The portal against the far wall glowed as a red dragon stepped through, small and weakened. It would still roast Loran, easily kill him, and Jakun called out for the man to shield himself with fire protection as the beast’s maw opened.

A torrent of flames erupted from the dragon, Loran’s shield dissipating the attack as he awaited Jakun’s next order. It was strange, telling his former master what to do, but Jakun didn’t let himself worry about that. Spells… ice spells…

“Blizzard!”

An eruption of icy weather blew up around the dragon, Jakun yelling for an ice spike that shoved its way through the dragon’s head. The catfolk was grateful the beast wasn’t as resilient as Ivris, though that was likely by design. This was a trial of knowledge, not combat.

A grotesque figure stepped out of the portal, goblinoid body warped by fell magics, and Jakun felt his blood run cold. This creature would be unaffected by magic, forcing Loran to use a weapon… if he had one. Or… perhaps Jakun could get the man to use one of his spells?

“Summon hyena!” he called, the necromancer’s hands contorting as he chanted.

The goblin charged, and a hyena leapt to meet the creature, jaws gnashing as it bit through the aberration. Both vanished, and Jakun let out a sigh of relief as he awaited the next monster.

Rumbling erupted from the portal, an iron golem pushing through with its eyes glued on the necromancer. Golem… golem… resistant to magic, but not rust…

His mind worked frantically as the golem crossed the room.

“Summon tiger, polymorph into rust monster!”

Loran did as commanded, precious seconds passing as the summon morphed into a vicious fiend ravenous for metals. It was an indirect way of protecting the mage, but Jakun was just happy it was working.

Several more monsters pushed through the portal, each meeting their end at the necromancer’s spells. Finally the portal closed, Jakun collapsing in relief.

“Congratulations kitten. You have succeeded in this trial,” Aofe smiled. “When you are ready, you may pass through to the final task of the first six trials.”

“Six? But I’ve only done four,” Jakun frowned.

“The last tests your fortitude through poison. As a lich, there would be no contest for you,” Aofe said.

“Am I allowed to break the circles?” the lich asked, glancing at the image of his former master, his abuser.

Aofe nodded.

“He will not touch you.”

“At this point, I don’t care if he tried.”

The catfolk stood up, approaching the simulacrum of his master. He stared at the clone. If he squinted, he could almost imagine it really was Loran.

Claws slipped from his fingers, Jakun lunging at the simulacrum. He slit Loran’s throat, slicing through flesh and blood as horrendous yowls escaped his throat. It was over too soon, the clone a pile of discarded body parts by the time Jakun was finished, and the amurrun spat on the remains, not really feeling any better, but still glad he’d had the chance to work that out.

“I’m ready,” he said quietly.

He stepped into the final room, three people standing as the catfolk looked around. The two men were dressed in a fine robe and rags, a noble and a prisoner, while the woman wore fine chainmail armour and carried a mace on her hip. They stared at the amurrun as Aofe appeared beside him.

“The trial of intuition. Each will speak with you, and each must be dealt with civilly. If you succeed, you may pass through the final door. If you fail to impress a single one, you fail the trial, but may still pass.”

“Then why do it at all?” Jakun frowned.

“Because each trial shows you your strengths and weaknesses, These are important to know, especially for a god,” Aofe explained.

Sighing quietly, Jakun approached the noble, the man smiling as he approached.

“I am pleased you come to me first,” the noble said. “It is only right. I wish to discuss philosophy, yet my companions seem more intent on violent pursuits.”

“What do you wish to discuss specifically?” Jakun asked, trying to figure out the challenge here.

“What is most important in life? What are your personal beliefs?”

The lich frowned thoughtfully. He’d never really thought about it specifically, but there was really only one answer the catfolk could give.

“Freedom. I spent most of my life as a slave, which makes it an obvious answer. But that isn’t the only reason I feel this is the right answer. For the last several months, I travelled with a paladin and a cleric who held each other in check, but at the same time allowed me the freedom to explore myself, to learn about the world through my mistakes. It allowed me to feel unfettered, though they were quick to suggest courses of action that they thought beneficial,” he said.

“A paladin can often be unyielding in their beliefs. How do you know he was not merely convincing you to share his faith?”

“Amnor Sen isn’t like that. Sure, he told me he disapproved of many of my actions, even threatening me when we met, but he never once forced action upon me. Even when I became a lich, he stood by me.”

The noble nodded slowly.

“Personally I believe that great wealth is better. It allows you the freedom of choice. But then, that does still come down to being free. You gave a good answer.”

The man stepped away, allowing Jakun to continue onto the prisoner. A sly grin appeared on the convict’s face as the catfolk approached.

“I wish to play the liar’s game with you. These other two are too… good to play with the likes of me,” the convict snorted.

“I have never heard of this game. How do you play?” Jakun asked cautiously.

“It’s simple, really. You give me two facts and one falsehood about yourself, and I try to guess which one is false.”

“Alright,” Jakun shrugged.

He took a moment to think, before nodding to himself.

“I am from Anuli,” he said, holding himself still. “I killed an undead dragon, and I do not enjoy sex.”

The man smirked, looking at the catfolk.

“Clearly you are lying about sex. Everyone does it, everyone enjoys it.”

“No, I am from Geb,” Jakun said. “I was born to a necromancer’s slave there, though I was told my ancestors lived in Anuli at one point.”

The convict frowned slowly, shaking his head.

“And sex? How do you not enjoy it?”

Jakun shrugged.

“I don’t know, it’s just not as amazing as everyone seems to think.”

The man huffed quietly, before waving the catfolk away.

“Well played, I suppose.”

The catfolk stepped away, his feet carrying him to the soldier. She looked him over appraisingly.

“I suppose you’ll do. I want to fight. I haven’t had any good practice in a while.”

“But you don’t even know me,” Jakun frowned. “Surely we could just talk-”

“Talk is boring,” the woman grumbled, pulling out her mace.

“You know, I’m not as weak as I look,” Jakun warned. “A single touch from me would probably kill you. If nothing else, a scratch from my claws could leave you in excruciating pain.”

“All talk, no bite.”

“Really? I fought a ravener and lived to tell the tale, three separate times. On the third time, I killed him. I am responsible for the deaths of an entire clan of vampires, and I murdered an undead werewolf and the necromancer controlling her. I am not someone to mess around with.”

He stated them as facts, ticking off each victory as he spoke, chest puffing in pride as he realised just how much he had done with his life already. The warrior’s eyes widened as she realized the catfolk wasn’t lying. He wasn’t even bluffing.

“On second thought, perhaps I’ll throw dice with the prisoner again…” she said quietly.

“That would be less lethal for you,” Jakun nodded.

They parted, and the catfolk approached the final door, a sense of accomplishment in his stride. He had made it. He had succeeded, and he would beat this test.