The Nekromancer - 86. Chapter 86

His body hurt more than it had a right to. Jakun dropped Ivris, the dragon turned bunny growling as a bolt of ice shot at the lich. Jakun didn’t even notice the attack, his flesh absorbing the cold harmlessly while his mind tried to handle the fact that his left arm was dangling limply by a single tendon.

“Fuck... “

The catfolk closed his eyes, fighting a wave of nausea. He was alive, there was no way an injury like this could kill the undead amurrun. But there was something about seeing your arm coming off that was rather disturbing.

How did it even happen? How could a fall cut through his arm? Jakun looked around almost frantically at the rocks, needing answers. The only answer he got was acid splashing in his face.

The lich snarled, glaring at the rabbit. The rabbit who still had Ivris’ powers, if not his body. Jakun had unfinished business. His arm could wait, he hoped.

He tried to stand, his arm throbbing enough to let him know he was injured badly. It wouldn’t kill him, but it left him off balance, the catfolk struggling to get back to his feet. Through it all, the rabbit peppered him with acid splashes, the tiny holes burning into his skin a huge annoyance. Ivris was in an unfamiliar position, being this close to the ground without his natural attacks, and it almost made Jakun laugh, seeing how the once mighty ravener reacted to the unknown.

The rest of his body seemed relatively unharmed, a few sliced here, a gash in his side that looked like a mortal wound, but barely gave him pause in this body. That thought did make him laugh. Finally he was truly testing himself, testing his immortality, and he found it intoxicating. Nothing Ivris threw at him could kill him, not now.

Finally stumbling to his feet, the amurrun removed his rapier, stalking toward the rabbit. Ivris was clearly panicking, the bunny trying to leap into the air, trying to use wings that were no longer there. Jakun had no pity for the ravener. He remembered what the dragon had shown him when they met, clutches of eggs destroyed before a grieving mother, orphanages burned to the ground in sacrifice to dark powers. No, this creature had performed uncountable horrors, and he would die for his crimes. Jakun couldn’t judge the dragon’s soul personally, but he would send Ivris to those who could.

His rapier fell, cutting into the rabbit’s neck. Again and again he struck, Jakun’s throbbing arm a painful reminder that this beast would not be finished until nothing remained of him. Finally the lich stood in a pool of black blood and dismembered rabbit, staring down at his utterly destroyed foe. He… he needed to sit down…

A wave of dizziness washed over the catfolk, Jakun closing his eyes as he took a series of unnecessary breaths. The pain wasn’t even that bad, and he wondered why. In a mortal body, damage like this would be agonizing. But for the lich, it was just a mental block, his mind rebelling at the knowledge of his missing limb.

Jakun hoped Loran was watching, that he had recast his scrying. He couldn’t attack the necromancer, not now, not with a ruined arm. But the amurrun knew of only one person who might be able to heal him, might repair the damage he had done. It would take time to return to his phylactery, and to the ones who guarded it, but Jakun had all the time in the world now.

Reaching around his body, the lich tugged on the arm, flinching as it came completely off with a wet squelch. He consoled himself with the thought that if it came off that easily, there was no way it would have survived casting a spell. Standing in the field of victory, holding his arm in a bloodsoaked hand, the lich let out a laugh, mirth washing over him as he realized he had won. The beast that he had unleashed, that had hunted him for the last six months, was dead, gone, wiped off the Material Plane. He was free of Ivris at last. His arm seemed a fair payment for that.

It hadn’t even been that hard of a fight. How had the ravener worried him so much? All it took was a single spell and the dragon was gone. And Loran would follow soon enough, though Jakun wasn’t so stupid as to attack the necromancer with a missing arm. No, he would have to return to Amnor Sen and Jeremy, and hope that the cleric had some sort of prayer he could cast to reattach his arm. If not… well, his phylactery was there with them, and it would be easy to end this body in favour of a more intact body. He would just have to recast his preservation spells on his newer body. An annoyance more than anything, but not as annoying as having to walk without an arm.

Gathering his fallen gear as best he could, the catfolk limped back into the fortress, making his way into the ritual room. He could feel the power humming in the air, and Jakun knelt, calling the dead bodies back to their rest in the walls. He was surprised the magic worked on them, usually reanimation only worked once on a corpse. Perhaps there was just enough left in them to return home. He still had to pay the corpses, give them thanks for weakening the ravener for him. But he would have to do that later. For now, the amurrun had to rest, try to recover so he could teleport back to his phylactery. It would be so much easier if he could just reform his arm here and take a few days to finish off Loran, but that wasn’t going to happen, and Jakun knew it. He just hoped Jeremy wouldn’t insist on returning with him. His vision could not come true again. He’d lost Anya already, Jakun could not lose his friends.