A Bored Lich

"Killing the gods?" Elero asked. "Is that even possible?"

Then Doevm told them everything; his reincarnation, the soulmana, the sons of Maximus Draken, of their fate after a mysterious arrow interrupted a negotiation, of how the legendary hero made a god bleed, and lastly his goal. They listened to it all silently.

"The gods are arrogant and hypocritical. They stole from my library, destroyed my family's life, turned me into a Lich, and probably a whole slew of other actions I have yet to discover!" He paused and found himself out of breath, looking into each of his friends' faces. His face burned in a way it never had, even when talking about those fucking humans.

"Take your time," Frey said. "We've all known something was happening behind the scenes." He scratched the back of his head. "We just didn't know it was this big."

Doevm took a few deep breaths and the burning subsided, nearly. "The Demon King just happened to attack the academy as I was there? I don't think that's likely given I was only there for two weeks. In addition, no one just happens to come across another one of Maker's champions like I did with Jackal. I don't know the extent of the gods' manipulation nor their game, but I know I've had enough of their manipulation. I will be no one's pawn."

Thomas cleared his throat and pointed at the map. "Is that why we worked so hard for that map?"

Doevm nodded and held the scroll up for the rest to see. "The map to legacies left behind by Maximus Draken himself. With this, I can finally end this stupid game."

"We," Frey chimed in. "We can end it." Elero suppressed a laugh and the giant's face reddened.

"It was an attempt," Thomas comforted, patting Frey on the back. "Poor as it may have been."

Doevm gently pulled off the ribbon, it's color faded from time. A small cloud of dust hit Doevm's nostrils like a wave. He closed his eyes and, for a moment, he was sitting in his old throne and studying the material of a newly discovered ruin. "Everyone, scoot back," he said as several magic circles of the air and water element formed around the scroll.

"Why?" Thomas asked before the ribbon in Doevm's hand turned into ash and fell between his fingers. "It disintegrated?"

"Ancient parchment, while sealed, does age," Doevm explained. "Luckily, with a few dozen spells, I can control the moisture, rate of decay, dirt, ink, paper, tools, and steadiness." As if to emphasize his point, the cabin rolled over a bump that sent them an inch of their seats. The map flew into the center of the cabin and remained anchored between delicate, floating instruments.

Soft-tipped brushes brushed away the dust, then pairs of small razors cut into the ancient grime and peeled it away. Doevm paused at set intervals breathe and let the moisture absorb into the parchment's stiff fibers. A bead of sweat dripped off his chin and rolled around the controlled environment. Slow. Steady. Precise. 'If only I had more mana, then I could use a different method,' he thought. 'Then again there are a lot of spells I can't use anymore, or ever again.'

In a matter of minutes the map laid barren on the platform, looking like a paper that had been accidentally laundered. He copied the map and found eight total legacies, including the two already claimed. He sighed. 'I guess I expected something more. Jackal got his power, turning people into monsters, from the swamp, and I got my power of voice from the front lines. That takes care of all legacies in the Acrin kingdom. Vilbar has two more. Maybe I can swing by them on my way to the hero.' He went to put the maps away but Elero gestured to the back.

"There's something on the back of the original scroll," she said.

Doevm flipped the map over and sure enough there were lines of horrible handwriting. "This is more chicken scratch than literature," Cerlius muttered. He looked to the person on his left with a slight grin but Frey cocked his head to the side.

Doevm rubbed his forehead: "Sorry, I don't know where that came from." He swallowed his saliva and read the letter aloud: "To Cerlius and Doevm-"

"Wait, what?" Thomas asked. "Isn't that scroll ancient? Why is it addressed to you?"

Doevm continued: "To Cerlius and Doevm. For your commitment to the study of magic and the willpower to endure my crude lessons, this map is dedicated to both of you.

It is my hope that I've done my utmost to prepare you both for the world ahead without restricting your growth. As you both grow up from these little things I could hold in the palms of my hands to big, possibly-hairy men you'll realize that I can't give you everything you want, nor everything you need. Some things must be experienced firsthand, things you will never experience if you stay here, where it's safe and comfortable. You will take risks. You will fail. I know I did.

I don't know what your lives will be like in the future but my door, which will always be open for the both of you, is not it. Look around. Go somewhere. Do something. Make friends. Make enemies. Come back on occasion and tell me the stories you've lived. There are both beautiful and terrifying things in this imperfect world. What's important is to know what the world is like. You both live in it, and therefore you must live with its imperfections. However, with these gifts I've scattered throughout the world, may you both change the parts you don't like for the better. You don't need a prophecy to be a hero. Congratulation for your graduation.

Love, Maximus Draken."

'Stupid chicken scratch,' Cerlius thought. 'It hurts just looking at this crap.' The carriage's magical protections shook, as did Doevm's tools and lights before he was forced to let them disperse. With the darkness gone the group found themselves just outside the city gate, confronted by a land blanketed by glistening snow.

"P.S. Make sure to be extremely careful in places you don't know. There are a lot of indescribably strong people out there, both bad and good."

Doevm glanced out the back window and found among the many mountains touching the clouds, one sliced into two parts. Many had said that Alexander had used the resistance as a demonstration of his power, but Doevm knew better. Such power, when among the top echelons of the world, was only to be expected.

Meanwhile, somewhere along Vilbar's shoreline...

Seawater crashed against a cliff-face, sending a chilly updraft to rustle a figure's blue hair. Radiant light pulsed along his sword's runes and outlined the goddess' image, engraved on his mithril shield. His two golden eyes reflected an approaching storm.

"William," a red-robed War Monk appeared in a flash of golden life essence and approached the figure. "The goddess has sent a message."

Will turned and bowed to his master. "What did she say?"

"Only a name: Doevm."

..............................

This marks the end of the academy arc.

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