A Bored Lich

The two mages walked behind the rest of the group, their bloody black robes dragging on the descending set of enormous stone stairs. The gray space would be completely dark if not for the light crystals that some of the Resistance members carried with them, making their shadows stretch out along the walls.

One of the two mages, the shorter one, slipped on one of the steps. He flailed around as his body weight fell past the point of no return. Just before he would have crashed into five of his fellow majors and the leader, a hand tugged on his black hood, pulling him back to his feet.

The taller mage sighed as he let go: "I'm telling you; you have to watch your steps. We cannot afford to mess up now." He hit the shorter mage on the back of his head. "Lord Dransel hates two things: incompetence and above that, lack of faith. It doesn't matter what you can do for our group, if you screw up, you'll…"

"I know brother," the shorter one said. "I mean," he scanned the ones marching in front to make sure no one was eavesdropping on them. "I have been with him for other missions, and throughout all of those missions, no matter how deadly they were or how badly we were cornered, he has never even so much as flinched, even when covered in the blood of his most trusted allies. It is like he's an Undead, without emotion."

"Keep your voice down," The taller one growled as he pulled the shorter mage closer. "Yes, he is a strange man, but that is because we cannot understand his genius. You know that book he always carries around with him, the one that has a strange word on the front? I think it was called "shounen" or something. He says he gets inspiration from the drawn pictures inside of it. He changes after reading it, like he is trying to become someone else."

"I know that he's a strange man, you do not have to tell me twice. That is why you need to be more careful around him than anyone else. I want you to remain focused. At best, if you just slip up, he'll just kill you. At worst, if you show even a little hint of distrust in him…"

"He'll turn me into one of those creatures, like what we did with all the people we kidnapped?" the shorter one gasped, taking out the necklace from his clothes. While he his hand shook when he held it, he did not take it off. It was mandatory of all who joined the Resistance to have this rope around their neck, the glass-like material included. It must never be damaged or taken off.

The taller one stifled a chuckle: "Worse. Even while you experience hell, he won't bat an eye at your screams." The shorter mage could feel the taller mage's hand shaking on his shoulder. "I've seen the most strong-willed people broken by him over the course of days, and I've never slept right again. I would even understand if he was a sadist, but he doesn't smile as he does it. He just stands there and keeps..." The taller one shuttered.

"He just seems…broken in some way, yet he is always someone you can always depend on to get the job done. So keep your head up and let him lead us to victory. Be confident that we will make it to the tenth floor. With our practically infinite army of creatures, no one can stop us."

"You're right," the shorter one said. "No one can stop us. We will get to the crystal and use its power to change this kingdom for the better. It is funny really. The king and the nobles never realized the value of the crystal, yet always kept it at the tenth floor. If they only knew what Lord Dransel had taught us about souls, that there was such a weapon under their feet for so long. Only Lord Dransel is able to use its power and conquer this kingdom."

"Hey," a voice said from behind them. "Do you think this crystal will be the only reason we take over?"

"Of course," the shorter mage said. "Well, we also have good leadership, but seriously, who can fight against an army of powered up crea-" He froze as he looked back, his lips pressed hard together as if trying to stop the words that had already left his mouth. The taller mage followed his companion's gaze to the man standing behind them both.

They couldn't see the man's face, but they knew what expression it most likely held, as they had only ever seen him with the one, the neutral, uncaring gaze that could watch his own family burn and go to sleep seconds later. He stood a couple stairs above them with his arms crossed. He gave a quick whistle and the march of dozens immediately halted.

"Lord Dransel, we meant nothing by it," The taller mage said as he bowed. "it's just the way you talked about the crystal, it seemed like that would be the optimal play to make. I didn't mean to insult your leadership by giving the crystal the credit of conquering the kingdom. It just seemed as if anyone who could use it will rule, but that doesn't make your feats any less impressive."

The shorter mage bowed. "You are skilled in leadership, which is demonstrated by our assault today, and all the preparations we have made." He felt the glares of his companions, and their pity. Words fumbled out of his mouth in hopes of sparing himself punishment. "You gave us guns, you knew what was down here, you took down that mage on the fifth floor, you are deserving of the crystal."

Lord Dransel stroked his chin from under his cloth mask. "And is this a popular opinion, that this crystal will hand me the country on a silver platter?"

"Yes sir," the shorter mage said to the taller mage's dismay. "It is not just the crystal sir. We think that only someone as capable as you can handle its power."

"That's…informative," Lord Dransel said as he put a hand on the shorter mage's shoulder. "Tell me, what do you think is the best way to acquire power?"

"Hard work."

"And," Hector continued, his grip tightening not enough to hurt, but to show he could hurt the mage if he wanted to. "Which way do you think is the best to demonstrate my hard work so far; taking a weapon to my enemy's and their family's throats, or breaking their enemy's will through complete domination and humiliation?"

"I-I suppose breaking their will," the shorter mage said. Lord Dransel moved his cloaked head to the taller mage.

"I agree with my brother sir," the taller mage said. Lord Dransel moved his gaze to the rest of his men, who all nodded.

Lord Dransel whistled and the entire march whipped back around and continued down the stairs. He, however, remained on the step, watching the advance from above. He pulled out a book which he had written himself. "Hard work huh?" he mumbled as he flipped through the pages. "Each of these characters work hard, but they are also known by the public to work hard."

"I wonder what this crystal will show the public, that I rule through a right given to me by hard work, or that I worked hard to break and dominate my enemies? How will my subjects think of me? Will any of them love me?" He slammed the book shut. "I suppose that they won't."

He caught up to his subordinates down the stairs, where the screams echoed. "This action, is it what a protagonist would do, what he would accomplish? I think I rushed things too much and accidentally chose the option of a dagger to the throat. I need an ending to satisfy Maker, and this is not it."

He opened the book again and took off his mask. He scanned through the drawings, changing his facial expressions to mirror them. 'This expression I won't need to use much,' he thought as he used his hands to lift the edges of his mouth. He flipped through the pages to another drawing. 'This one might be useful.'

He put the book back into his spacial ring and took out a mirror. He looked into it, at his pitch-black eyes, and then poked them until they began tearing up. 'Not enough water,' he poked his eyes again until more tears came out. 'This way, my men might think that I care about them.' One of his eyes went red as blood mixed into the tears. 'Whoops, looks like I overdid it.' He didn't heal himself with life essence, but instead moved his hands to the sides of his mouth again, pulling them downwards in a frown and his eyebrows slanted. He looked at himself again in the mirror. 'This might be a different place, but I still have the same problems.'