The OP Lich is a Returnee, Chapter 158

I'm kind of proud of this one.

Chapter 158 – The Last Guardian

The dragon looked pained as it turned to look at me. As well it should, since, as I looked closer, it appeared that its flesh had fused with the crystal of the seal itself, forming a bandage to keep the seal from rupturing. A tool of desperation, then, to try and hold the seal together for as long as possible.

I raised my staff in salute to the dragon, and spoke clearly, using magic to ensure that the words translated into a language they would understand. “I am Her Royal Majesty, Queen Akagawa Kaori, First of Her Name, World Traveler, the Deathless, the Heroine of Death, Conquerer of Haerth and its Minions, Mistress of the Dead and Ruler of the Damned, Archlich and High Contractor of Murena, Agent of the Goddess of Death, Chainbreaker, Archmage of the Three Circles of Death, High Magus of the Athelian Spire, Destroyer of Athelia-That-Was, Demon’s Bane, Legend-crafter, Weaponmistress, She Who Wields Both Spell and Blade, the Lost Sleeper Returned, and Lich Queen of Risen Athelia. Who now resides before Us?”

“So, finally, someone has come. And they know the proper speech.” The dragon’s voice in my head was pained, and raspy, like someone who had endured long hardships without end, and was unused to using their voice for anything but screaming for far too long. “Nyzirth of the Golden Sun am I, and more. But none of those names and titles matter now, for I am soon to give them up, now that someone is finally here. But why did it take so long? Did no one think to check the seals?”

“It has been over two thousand years since the people of this world sealed magic away. Any dragons or other long-lived races native to this world either perished, or have gone into hiding and hibernation, leaving only humans behind. And humans, with their short lives, are not the greatest guards of history. The knowledge was lost to time, as history became legend became myth. Until the seal was cracked, humans believed that magic was not real, just stories to tell children for fun.”

“And so, my sacrifice was for nothing?”

I shook my head as I approached the seal. “No, not for nothing. Your sacrifice held the seal together, preventing it from shattering, when I do not doubt one such as you might have conjured a barrier strong enough to survive the blast to come with the seal’s release. Now, I am here, to undo the seal, without causing a cataclysm.”

The dragon laughed, low and humorously. “And when the UnNamed return? What will you do then? Will that not be a cataclysm?”

“Tell me, will undoing the seal undo all that was done to them?”

“No, the Archmagos was wise enough to not do such a thing. The UnNaming was a separate ritual, requiring one hundred of the UnNamed to be sacrificed in secret. That was necessary not only to disrupt their unity, but to keep them distracted as the seals fell into place.”

“Because they could have interfered, if they were still able to work as one, combining their magics, yes? What of their floating city, then? What happened to it?”

“Correct. The UnNamed were powerful as an archmage on their own, but the true strength of their abominable kind was that they could combine their magic to even greater heights than one might normally manage with ritual Magicks. Breaking that unity was the only way that those of us who resisted them could hope to finish the seals without coming under an overwhelming assault. One that we would not have prevailed against.”

The dragon gave a long, rasping sigh. “As for their city, I cannot say with certainty. There was a period of time, shortly after the conclusion of the sealing ritual, when magic was still at its full strength, and we could communicate with those who had allied with us. Those on a far-off continent claimed that the city was swallowed by a great vortex in the sky.”

“Yes, I saw pictures of that, when I visited one of the other seals, to undo it. So, the vortex was not part of the plan, then?”

“No, we had no plan for the floating city, except that the loss of magic would cause it to fall, in time, and the UnNamed would lose their powers with the loss of magic.”

I nodded slowly. “Then it is likely that they escaped, either into the void between worlds, or to another world entirely. Either way, the concern that they might return immediately upon the seals being undone is somewhat lessened.”

“But not removed.”

“No, not removed. But this final seal must be removed. You are already stretched too thin holding it shut, and, even with all your power, the cracks are still spreading, are they not? The eight other seals have all been undone, so that, if this seal is properly unmade, there will be no cataclysm. Not from this act, at least. Mortals often find ways to cause cataclysms of their own, when left without a guiding hand.”

“And how do you intend to remove the seal? Whether I wish it or not, I am in no place to resist, but neither can I remove myself from this spot.”

I paused, to consider my next words. “There are several ways I might go about the unsealing, now that I see how great the damage is. However, I will ask you this, faithful Guardian of the Seal, what is it you wish? I think we both know that the undoing of the seal will be the end of you, one way or the other. But you have done me no wrong, and you have acted honorably in the service of your post, which I respect, so I offer you a choice in how things go from there.

“I will start by saying what I suspect you know already. Though your selfless act of using your flesh and bone to hold the seal together has preserved it until now, it has done irreparable harm to your body, which, from what I can see, is only kept alive by the seal’s energies coursing through you. Such damage to a living creature is beyond my ability to heal. Indeed, only divine intervention, from a god with healing in their domain, would be able to save you, and I am no god, and the only goddess with whom I may call upon is one of Death. So, separating you entirely from the seal is not possible.

“At the same time, the ritual which I must conduct to undo the seal would be hampered by a soul such as yours caught in the mix, for your soul is far too different in both type and power from the one to be tempered by the ritual. Any mistake would cause the rite to fail, causing untold devastation to the world, and the people living on it. So, it is necessary for your soul to be separated from the seal before beginning the work.

“Thus, I say with all respect and honor, that there are two paths before you. On the first path, I can end you now, offering a clean and quick death, followed by a release. The spells to undo the seal will need to be done quickly following your death, as the seal will no longer be held closed, but there is a good chance that it can be done. Though I do admit that rushing such things is not the wisest course of action.

“For the second path, I can draw out your soul, keeping it safe during the ritual, and then either releasing it, or transforming you into one of the undead, possibly with whatever is left of your body at the end. Your body, as a still living husk without a soul, would keep the seal from collapsing entirely, giving me time to safely perform the ritual. I can promise that you would feel no pain, but I cannot say what type of undead you would become, if you chose to rise once more.”

“You would offer me the choice, necromancer, while my soul was in your grasp?”

The interruption, and the tone it was given in, were not exactly respectful, but that was fair, given the reputation most of my type of spellcasters had in worlds with magic. I just shook my head, and said, “I was taken to another world against my will, and forced into servitude. When I broke free, I swore that the only souls I would bind against their will were those who had fought against me or wronged me in some way, save only for the souls of my classmates, so that I could deliver their spirits home, rather than allowing them to go to whatever afterlife awaited them in that world. You have done nothing to me. Therefore, I offer you the chance to find your own rest, or to serve. But it will be by your choice, and yours alone.”

The dragon sighed, and said, “I’ve done as I was sworn to do. More, even. Ever since the cracking of the seal, this existence has been naught but torment. I am ready for what comes after life’s end, now. If there is a way I might honorably discharge my duty, and know peace, then I would have it. Draw out my soul, Necromancer, and then let me free from this torment.”

I nodded once, and said, “Before that, noble Nyzirth, I know of one dragon from another world, who was trapped here after finding his way between worlds, with barely enough magic to sustain him, let alone allow him to return to his home. As far as I know, he is the only living dragon at large in this world, as it now stands. He is a refugee here, as we seek a way to return him home, but he is a Loremaster of his kind. Is there any message you would have me bring to him?”

“A Loremaster? Truly? I had given up hope of being remembered by any of my kind. A worthy sacrifice, to end the reign of the UnNamed, but, if a Loremaster is here?”

“Yes, it is true. I have spoken with him. Indeed, it was through my talks with him that we determined that magic had always been present in this world, but sealed away, which prompted me to go looking for the seals. Seeing the state they were in, and knowing that it would likely take more time than we had to learn all that was needed to repair or reform the seals, I set about undoing them in as controlled a manner as possible, to lessen the burden upon the Prime Seal, and make it easier to undo.”

“Ah, that was what the pulses of mana I felt through my bones was. I had wondered.”

“Indeed. So, is there any message you would have me bring to the Loremaster?”

The dragon took a long, gasping breath, and I saw mana flowing through the room. Felt it, too, as the amount of mana the dragon was channeling was enough that it caused a small windstorm within the chamber. But I was not worried about it being an attack. The mana was not moving in the correct way for an attack spell, or a breath attack.

The mana gathered in the dragon’s forehead, and crystalized. Literally. A crystal pushed its way out of the dragon’s skull, leaving a bleeding wound behind as it grew, until the shard was almost half a meter long before falling from his head. I stretched out with magic to catch it before the crystal could touch the ground.

The dragon spoke again, weaker now. “My memories. The Loremaster will know what to do with them. Now, let me rest at last.”

I bowed my head once, clasping the shard to my chest as I did so. “Very well, Nyzirth of the Golden Sun. Know that the Lich Queen of Risen Athelia honors your service to this world. A statue in your honor shall grace the mountainside, made of stone hardened by mana to resist the elements, and placed within a barrier to keep it safe from the unworthy, and as guardian for this place, forevermore. Now rest, Guardian, for your task is done.”

I raised up my staff, and black lightning struck the dragon, separating his soul from the broken flesh that bound it, and releasing him to whatever afterlife might await him. And then, with my next act, I opened the portal to my pocket dimension, and called forth eight archmages. The guardian’s task was done, but mine still remained.