A Bored Lich

Cerlius was led down the hallway, and eventually to the stairway. He then headed to the opposite door, back towards the classrooms, but Lance shook his head. The instructor moved Cerlius to face the rickety stairway leading down into black shadows. He lit a torch to light the way because there were no light crystals down that way. Cerlius had to watch his footing. There was no orderly white stone, only the splintered, creaking steps.

"Why is this place different from the rest of the academy?" Cerlius asked, not as uncomfortable as he thought he'd be in pitch blackness.

"Well this place isn't particularly used very much," Lance said. The shadows danced around the many cracked white stone statues built into the walls. They were mostly depictions of other human mages with similar plaques at the base, but the writing had been worn away with time.

"These statues, we have no idea who they are." Lance continued. "This place is the stain of the academy, the Mage's Shadow. Down here, you may feel like we are being watched. You may feel breath brush against the back of your neck but when you turn around, no one is there. It's like dread was built into the very walls."

The torch went dim then bright again, as if some invisible force was toying with it. There was no wind, only a strange cold that seemed to stab through any amount of cloth. Cerlius took a deep breath. 'It feels…familiar.'

'It should be.' Larque responded. 'This place is where you…Doevm earned the name: Forbidden One. The truth is that you were once a Lich.'

The hundreds of steps came to an end quicker than Cerlius expected. He accidentally stomped on the ground, sending a shock through his shin. 'There's that word again, a Lich. Forbidden One. I must have done something catastrophic for a demon to label me with such a title.'

The torchlight grew even dimmer, as if the shifting darkness was eating away at it. At the base of the stairway was a hallway much like the ones above except much more ancient. The cracked tile floor and broken, flickering lines of light crystal stretched onwards. The broken doors hung ajar on rusty hinges. The stench of mold and mildew was rampant throughout this rotten ruin.

"Look familiar?" Lance asked. "This place is where the first headmaster Eric Guildri, founder of the magic academy, found inspiration for constructing the classrooms above. He didn't even bother restoring this place because of the extensive amount of damage."

"What happened here?" Cerlius asked, both to Lance and Larque.

"No idea." Both Lance and Larque said in unison, one out loud and the other in Cerlius's head. "The legends say that every last man, woman, and child who bore witness were killed."

Cerlius ran his hand along the cracked wall until he found a small dent the shape of someone's head, his thick seven-year-old skull. 'I know this place.' He thought. 'I remember these classrooms.' He looked inside the doorway. The old crystallin board was nothing but shattered pieces on the ground. His father had been too lazy to clean it up.

Cerlius had just performed his first spell but it failed. The force had shot him back, slamming headfirst into the wall with enough force to dent it. His brother had laughed as Cerlius's face reddened. Their mother had bent down and carried Cerlius over to the apprentice War Monk at the back of the classroom, Eric Guildri. It was painful. It was humiliating. It was his last memory before he had been captured and tortured.

Lance waved a hand in front of Cerlius's face. "Hello? I didn't peg you for someone who would space out."

Cerlius blinked and shook his head. "Sorry instructor, I guess I am just nervous." They moved along. Cerlius didn't need to be told which door was the Dimmer. It was obvious as it was the only intact thing in the entirety of the Mage's Shadow, a thick obsidian door with four mithril locks going down the side.

Lance rolled up his sleeve and…nothing. The bracelet didn't fly off as usual. He scrunched up his lips and tried again, this time succeeding as the artifact flew off his wrist and one by one, turned the large, circular locks until each of them clicked. The door creaked open, and dust flew off the hinges. "It's no problem. We're almost there. To be honest, the Dimmer is not that bad. It's just the boredom that might hurt us."

"Us?" Cerlius asked as he entered the cubic chamber, which he found to be entirely made of the same obsidian as the folding doors. He could see his reflection in each of the glossy surfaces. It was strange, as if he were in both an infinite space and a small one.

"Well of course," Lance said as he shut the door behind the both of them. The locks clicked shut and his bracelet flew back onto his wrist. "Now I need to torture you." He pulled out the strange hollow tube made of both wood and metal. "With questions."

Cerlius raised an eyebrow as a smile went across Lance's face. "Sorry, that was a joke to lighten the mood." He coughed twice but Cerlius just stared at him. "A-anyway, as an instructor, I find myself at fault for what you are currently going through. I decided to punish myself as well. Unfortunately, I have a deadline so I'll be working on this 'gun' throughout the duration of my stay in here. Since you're a smart kid I figured you might both be good at and enjoy this kind of puzzle. Any credit for your findings will go to you, should you choose to help me of course. I will also be working on this no matter which option you choose."

'I think I'd rather have the torture,' Larque thought. 'but he is the person with the greatest use. I think that you should-'

"Fascinating." Cerlius said as he took the device. "So what do you stand to gain out of this? Trust, plagiarizing my findings, or something else?"

Lance stroked his chin, which had become somewhat scraggly with hair, but just barely. "So that's what you thought." He paused for a couple moments and paced for a bit in the chamber, his steps having a strange echo in the small space. "I think I need to understand you to be able to teach you. You're not normal. That's ok. Whether you believe me or not, I just want to help. The first step is learning your thought process."

Cerlius narrowed his eyes. 'Maybe this man isn't as naïve as I first thought. Maybe that's a good thing. I can't speak with some idiot who only knows how to listens to the rules like a dog. But at the same time it's that aspect to be able to bend the rules which makes him more dangerous.'

'Which person are you instructor Lance; a hypocrite who spouts lies or one who truly believes in the rules? You might be observing me but to do that you have to lean in close, letting me get a good look at your exposed neck. I'll play this game. Yours too, Larque. Tell me, who is Doevm? What exactly is a Lich?'