A Bored Lich

Cerlius's world was dark. Usually an ocean of red awaited him, accompanied by the occasional distant scream. This time it was just darkness. His stomach sunk as the sudden feeling of falling overtook him. The chilling silence stabbed into his chest and limbs like a thousand needles. The stench of wood and metal made him cough out the little air remaining in his lungs. He fought and thrashed around in the cramped coffin but he knew he would die soon, just like his brother.

"I've told you all I know!" Cerlius screamed as he violently awoke. His clothes and white sheets were drenched in a layer of cold sweat and dry blood. He rubbed his eyes and scanned the surroundings for that traitor. He only saw a blue curtain.

"Relax," said a woman in a pure white robe standing a few feet from his bedside. She slowly pulled the curtain back, revealing rows of beds and curtains similar to Cerlius's. On the ceiling was a mural of the goddess looking down upon the patients with a loving, caring, bullshit smile. "You're safe now. I've been a healer at this academy for fourteen years. You can trust me to take care of you." The Healer waved to a nearby Demi. "Notify the instructors that Cerlius is awake."

The Demi bowed but didn't leave immediately. "Anything more?"

The Healer turned to look at a dozen unconscious students in other beds. "He's the only one awake." The Demi nodded and left, making his way past a few patrolling Watchmen before disappearing through one of three wooden doors at the far end.

Cerlius leaned back into the comfy bed and sighed. "Am I still in the Magic Academy?"

The Healer shrugged. "Technically, yes. I've just treated the nasty wound along your arm, but you'll be tired as a result." Cerlius inspected his scarred arm and found no wounds. His head however, ached and throbbed under the intense backlash of blood loss. "Now if you excuse me, I need to get to the other patients."

'I guess my little trick worked,' Cerlius thought as he slowly sat up. 'Larque did you notice anything?' He waited for a few second but got no response. 'Larque?'

'What?' Larque groaned. 'Just because you're awake doesn't mean I have to be.'

Cerlius felt the demon roll over in his sleep. 'You're so inactive these days.'

'Wait a year and say that again.'

Cerlius shrugged. He waited for a few minutes, wondering why there were so many patients and Watchmen about. It was almost strange to see the statues moving for more than a few seconds. The other students might have been healed, but Cerlius recognized the way their robes were tattered. It was undoubtably the result of black powder.

One of the far doors opened, and in walked the Head Mage. He was flanked by the first-floor instructors and Olpi. They all made their way to the foot of Cerlius's bed. "So you're Lance's disciple, a boy named Cerlius," Glenin Ostroch's grizzled voice seemed to resonate through the hall. "I heard that you put someone in this very bed not long ago. Now it seems as though karma caught up with you, don't you agree?" He knocked the cane against the foot of the bed and gave a toothy grin.

"I guess so," Cerlius shrugged.

"I guess so," the old man chuckled. "What do you think of karma?"

Cerlius glanced over the man's shoulder to the five impatient instructors and the nervous Olpi. "I think people will imagine themselves as having done something wrong when they experience a setback in life."

Glenin nodded. "To each their own. I like to think of the academy's rules as karma. If one follows them, they will grow. If one doesn't, they stagnate and decay. One might not find much comfort within these rules, but as long as results are achieved, I am happy." His old bones creaked as he sat on the bed. "It's kind of like the meal plan. It's commonly believed that fish helps grow mana, so it is served every day. I love results, but that makes me hate failures.

I despise them. I can be content if I at least learn something from the failure, but that was not the case tonight." He hit the bed again, this time with a resounding clang. "It's all because of that new black powder. Coincidentally, you happen to be experienced with this substance, correct?"

Cerlius froze, and his mind went to the bag of black powder in his room. The Demis may not know what it was, but the Head Mage certainly did. "Yes, I helped discover what it was constructed of." He kept his face neutral as he played out various scenarios in his head. He imagined the man taking out the bag at any moment with a wide grin. Cerlius sat up a bit more.

"And that discovery made me happy," the old man continued. "because results were achieved. That is why I allowed you to become Lance's disciple even after you broke the rules. You have such potential in you, but it is a shame you have such a bad air about you. I once knew another like that, who bore a striking resemblance to you." Lance and Trenton slightly paled as the other three instructors looked their way. "She and her disciple did so much good for this academy, more than anyone thought possible. It was amazing, the feats they achieved, the impossible odds they beat."

"Sadly," Glenin continued. "they chose to break the rules, and so they were executed. Karma caught them. I tell you this because I don't want to repeat the past. You can give me results. You've shown that. Now I want you to tell me the truth, for the good of the academy, for the good of yourself. When that arrow came whizzing through your window, what did you think? Can you tell us what happened?"

Cerlius looked to the group just behind the man. Both Olpi and Lance nodded, trusting his judgement. He took a deep breath and faced the old man: "After I got back to my room," Cerlius acted as if he was still in shock, but actually used the time to carefully choose his words. "The window was shattered by an arrow. Crystal got in my arm. I passed out from blood loss."

Even at such a short, simple alteration of the truth, the Head Mage seemed to look straight through him.

He nodded and looked to Olpi: "and you, Demi, do you have anything to offer? Anything that can put you in the academy's good graces?"

Olpi swallowed hard as instructor Jersin shoved her forward. She put on a smile full of warmth as she relayed: "I'm sorry to report that I do not Head Mage. I escorted Cerlius to his room after his lesson with Lance."

Glenin nodded. "My hearing is not as it once was. You said straight to his room, correct?" Olpi nodded, and Cerlius's stomach sunk. The Head Mage motioned for Lance to step forward. "What time did your lesson with Cerlius conclude?"

"10 p.m. Head Mage," Lance said without hesitation.

Cerlius glanced over at a small artifact hanging over the doors, an indoor sundial that doesn't require the light. It was one in the morning. 'I guess I've been asleep for a while.'

Glenin shook his head. "The lesson ended at ten. That can't be right. The time I found Cerlius was half past eleven. I may be slow in my old age, but I know that it only takes a few minutes to get to the students' quarters. Cerlius, you claim to have just gotten back to your room yet there is a gap of an hour and a half between leaving Lance's office and arriving at your room. In addition, if you did indeed pass out immediately, it would be impossible to survive for an hour and a half before we found you."

"I can explain," Cerlius tried to interrupt.

"I have a theory," Glenin frowned. "You see Cerlius, unfortunately I suffered from karma as well, but this karma was undeserved. I experienced one of those horrible, infuriating failures. Several extremely powerful spell scrolls were stolen from my office. Everyone we have asked committed suicide by using black powder. The fight is over. There is only one suspect left, and he's lying to me. Karma decides everything Cerlius. You're going to give me results, one way or another."