A Bored Lich

Olpi considered ending him. Jersin still. Olpi could only guess that he had lost consciousness since his hood still obscured the upper half of his face. He was weak. The infamous sadistic smile was now a plain neutral. He wouldn't be able to defend himself just as Olpi and the rest of the Demis were never able to defend themselves. He would be just like them, the very people he beat.

'Then,' a thought ran through Olpi's head. 'What would that make me?' Her unbalanced dizziness faded and she pushed herself off Menla's side. "It doesn't matter," she sighed.

"What?" Menla tightened her grip around the cane, and the old, dry blood on it coated her small hands. "What did you say?"

"I said it doesn't matter." Olpi repeated. "Our suffering is nearly over. We just need to gather all the Demis that survived and leave. We can't waste our time beating instructor Jersin to death, no matter how much he deserves it." She spat on Jersin's hooded face and, unbeknownst to her and Menla, his foot twitched from under the rubble. Several rocks tumbled off him.

"And what cost does he pay?" Menla countered. "He just gets away with it? We're all going to die anyway. The demons are going to slaughter us all. Why are you defending him?"

"I'm not," Olpi said. "He can never be forgiven, never. We just don't have time to beat him to death. We need to leave, and you're coming with me." She tried to pull the half-dwarf towards the empty doorway, the exit to the collapsed classroom, but the stubborn girl wouldn't budge. She had always been stronger than Olpi.

"You don't know what he's like." Menla stepped over to Jersin and prodded at his head with the cane. "I'm not strong like you, and he picked on me because of that." She steadily leaned more of her weight onto the cane. Jersin's skull creaked, ready to collapse just like the Reach. A few more rocks tumbled down, and Jersin's breathing quickened.

"I couldn't sleep at night," Menla continued. "I couldn't talk. If he survives..." One eye twitched. A bit of red crawled across her left iris like blood spraying across the dirt.

"Menla," Olpi pointed at the area. "Something is with your eye."

"Don't..." Menla coughed. "try to change the subject. If Jersin survives, he will go after the next batch of Demis that are brought in."

Olpi knew her friend was right. They could have killed him in the time they had talked, albeit quickly and not how Menla had imagined. Yet there was a deep, unnatural terror that pulled at the back of her mind. Red crawled across Menla's right iris.

"Menla there will always be another Jersin, but only one you," as Olpi pleaded, she slowly reached for Jersin's dreaded cane. "It's the demonic presence that's warping your thoughts. What you're about to do is something that can't be taken back. I am begging you, please please please don't let this thing change you. Don't submit." She wrapped her tear-stained hand around the cane in Menla's tight grasp.

Menla paused. Olpi waited, knowing she shouldn't force her thoughts onto someone else. It was her friend's choice.

Menla's sleeves fell down as she slowly raised the cane, exposing the mess of scar tissue along her arms. The red kept crawling across her irises as she glared at her target. Olpi wanted to look away, but she couldn't bring herself to do it. Amidst the screams and fighting, Jersin's groan made them flinch. "Stop," he whispered, bordering the line of consciousness. "I was just hungry. Please. Stop. It hurts." The discolored hood, which had always covered the upper half of his face, finally fell.

Instead of hair he had a leathery, bald scalp - old burn marks. There were more than a dozen holes through his misshapen ears, each surrounded by chain-like impressions. Lastly on his forehead were strange characteristics that Olpi had never seen before. Menla, however, gasped and backed away from him.

"What's it say?" Olpi asked.

"They're Dwarvish numbers," Menla explained. "He tried to cross it out. 62,930. All slaves were given a number back then." The cane tumbled out of her grasp. She turned to Olpi and the red slowly drained away from her irises. "How could someone who has suffered like us become so twisted? Does that mean one of us will end up like him, this shell of a man?"

"No." Olpi said. "That's why I've worked so hard to unite us, and keep us that way. Whatever happened, we're free." Despite her thoughts, she didn't step away from Jersin quite yet. Menla had made a good point amongst her cries. If Jersin lived, more would suffer.

"Who?" Jersin mumbled as he slowly regained consciousness.

"My name is Olpi!" Olpi yelled at the top of her lungs.

"What are you doing?" Menla tried to cover her friend's mouth but she couldn't reach. "The demons might hear us."

"Leaving his fate in the hands of the gods." Olpi said. "I have found instructor Jersin. He needs medical attention!" Just as she finished, a shadow appeared in the mist. At first she thought it was a student, since the figure was just as tall as one, but then she saw a tail dragging behind it.

"Looks like Jersin will burn after all, but we can't say we didn't try," Olpi shrugged. The Demi-humans both grabbed onto Cerlius's unconscious form and hid behind a cluster of rubble on the opposite side of the destroyed classroom. She would have liked to say that she had smiled as the figure closed in. She would have liked to have taken joy in that snarky line, a page she had taken straight out of Cerlius's book. All she thought about was that man's pathetic face as his end drew near. 'Was that me who said that, or am I still under the demonic influence?'

The lone demon strolled into the classroom as if he knew the mess of rubble and destruction like the back of his hand. Four twisted horns, all of which were embedded with jewels, seemed to form a crown. His single bat-like wing folded up onto his skinny yet muscular back.

Jersin's eyes went wide as he regained consciousness. He struggled but the mound of rubble wouldn't budge any further. "Help!" He called out. "Watchman. Students. Somebody."

The demon merely glanced at the human at his feet. "Here, allow me." He knelt down and began to slowly drag Jersin out of the rubble with a single hand. If Olpi thought the instructor's skull had creaked before, now his lower half was about to break. Jersin cried out and reached for his cane. The demon kicked it away, let go of Jersin, and rubbed his chin. "You're just making this harder."

"Asshole, you're not going to help me," Jersin spat. "You're a Demon."

The demon chuckled. "You're half right. Technically I'm human, which makes me much, much worse." He knelt down again. Jersin closed his eyes as the demon placed a finger on each. "I'm going to pull you out of this, and you're not going to like how."

Mana crackled around Jersin but no magic circle formed, as if something blocked him. "What?" Jersin asked. "How?"

The demon chuckled as he flicked Jersin's fallen hood. "You're an instructor. You answer questions, not ask them." The demon jabbed two claws through Jersin's eyelids and into the eyes.

Jersin kept screaming and flailing. The demon never flinched no matter how many times he struck him.

"And now I'm going to pull."

"No." Jersin clamped onto the hand with a death grip. "No, I'll answer your questions. Please I'll-" He never finished. With another cry, blood flowed to the back of his head. More pieces flew off the pile of rubble as Jersin's back straightened to its limit. "Please stop."

The demon sighed. "See? If you just talked from the beginning this wouldn't have happened. I'm not in a good mood but I'll spare your stupidity, so I'll only do one more tug." He pushed his claws further into Jersin's face. Blood gushed out and a loud crack rang out from under the rubble. Jersin kept crying out, yet no one came to help. "Now tell me, where is the map of Draken's Legacies?"