[Hollow King] Chapter 12: Bearer of Gifts (Patreon)

"What are you doing here again, Kyle?" Lucas said, his ancient voice heavy with displeasure as he floated a Candle Light forward to illuminate the hallway.

The man peering into the empty study snapped his head toward Lucas. "Elder Lich," he wheezed, his face flushed red as he gasped for breath and leaned against the wall. "I've come to bargain for your help... What happened to your robe?"

"It burned up in a magic experiment," Lucas lied. "Now leave this place. I have no interest in any bargains with you."

"Please wait!" Kyle begged as Lucas turned to leave. "I have a grimoire to offer."

Lucas paused and clenched his jaw. That did interest him.

"How did you come across a grimoire?" Lucas asked. Kyle seemed, for lack of a better word, poor. Were grimoires so plentiful that someone like Kyle could own one? "You didn't steal it, did you?"

"No, a Ravenwing dropped it on my head," Kyle said, still trying to catch his breath. "As unrealistic as that sounds—"

"Show me."

Lucas had an idea of what the grimoire might be, and as Kyle dug out a plain brown grimoire from his overstuffed sack, Lucas was immediately disappointed.

"A Primer for the First Circle," Lucas sighed.

"Is it a good one?" Kyle asked expectantly, showing the grimoire stolen from Lucas a few days earlier

"I already know all the spells from it," Lucas said dismissively, "so unless you have something else to bargain with, take your leave."

Kyle grimaced. "Well, I did bring one other gift. I noticed your robes last time had seen better days. N-Not that they weren't magnificent, of course, just worse for wear—I'll shut up."

He set his sack on the floor and pulled out a mass of black cloth. When he unfurled it, Lucas realized it was a hooded robe that rolled out onto the floor.

"When I told my wife about meeting you and mentioned the condition of your robes, she wanted me to buy you new ones as a thank you for sparing me. But I couldn't find any that would fit your large frame, so she made this herself."

"Your wife made it?" Lucas asked, and felt a twinge of pain in his soul. He missed Anna.

Kyle nodded. "She's a seamstress."

Lucas could tell it was handmade, in the nicest way possible. The stitching was visible, and the material looked rough. This was a great gift, as he did need a robe, and knowing it was handmade for him made it harder to turn down. But he suspected the robe wouldn't be worth whatever Kyle had come to ask.

"I will at least hear you out for this," Lucas said, and took the offered robe from Kyle with Unseen Hand. The man gasped as the robe was pulled out of his arms, floated to Lucas, and landed in his outstretched hand.

Oh yeah, this is rough, Lucas thought, inspecting the robe more closely. But it was made for me.

"But first, can you tell me how many others you've told about my existence?" Lucas asked, using Unseen Hand to float the robe over his head without lifting a finger. "Because I wanted to remain unknown up here."

"Just my wife," Kyle replied, and then hesitated. "I also told the Guildmistress of the Adventurers Guild, but that's it, I swear."

Lucas frowned. One person knowing about him was bad enough, but now there were two more? Kyle didn't seem threatening beyond his big mouth, and neither did his wife. But the Guildmistress, on the other hand, sounded dangerous.

"I haven't braved the outside world in a long time. Does this Guildmistress control your town?"

Kyle shook his head. "The Adventurer's Guild has a small presence in Frostkiln, so her power is rather minimal."

"I see." Lucas paused, his gaze piercing into Kyle. "Did she send you here?"

"No," Kyle said, clenching his hands. "I... tried to convince her that you were the answer to our problem, but she said I'd already broken the Guild's rules about interacting with Liches and to wait until a Dawnkeeper arrived before speaking to you again."

So the Guild has a procedure for dealing with Liches? That's good to know. Though it does pain me that she wants a Dawnkeeper to get involved.

"If she told you to stay away, then why are you here?" Lucas asked, finding Kyle more troublesome than he was worth.

"Because I know if I do nothing and wait around for the Zenith to bother sending a Dawnkeeper, my family is going to be torn apart," Kyle said, his gaze hardening. "My wife... has come down with Blight and been bedridden for four days now."

Lucas didn't know what Blight was, but he guessed it was some kind of disease, likely caused by the presence of undead. He would ask, but an Elder Lich would certainly know about Blight. So Lucas kept quiet and waited for Kyle to continue.

Kyle's posture slumped, showing the man's exhaustion. "She hasn't been able to work, so I've been taking extra jobs from the Guild to put food on the table. But while I was out on a request two days ago, they took my son."

"Who are they?" Lucas asked. "The Adventurer's Guild?"

"No, it was soldiers from the Aldenrath Barony," Kyle said, his expression darkening. "For aristocrats, they have always been fair and respected by the citizens of Frostkiln. But after weeks of battling against the undead, the Baron's soldiers have worn thin, and the Blight is spreading." Kyle took a deep breath to calm himself. "In light of this, the Aldenrath Barony put out a mandatory enlistment for all capable citizens to fight and join their soldiers' ranks. They came to my house for me, but found my son tending to my wife instead. He's only fourteen, but they took him to the wall because he's Arcane Blessed."

"Your son is a mage?" Lucas asked.

"Mage apprentice," Kyle said bitterly, like it was a bad thing. "He can only cast a few first-tier Life spells to mend wounds and restore vitality, but that was enough to get him enlisted and put on the wall. He's nothing like a true mage such as yourself."

Me, a true mage? Your son is likely higher level than I am, Lucas thought bitterly. And yet you come to me for help.

Kyle collapsed to his knees and kissed the ground at Lucas's feet. "I know my offerings are meager, and my request is troublesome, but please," he clenched his hands against the cold stone, "free Frostkiln from this undead nightmare so my son can come home and my wife may recover from the Blight."

Lucas looked Kyle over. Even now, the man was still heaving, having likely run through the afternoon to reach here by evening. He was desperate and saw Lucas as his only option to save his family.

Having been torn away from his own daughter, Lucas pitied Kyle and wanted to help. He really did. But stopping an undead invasion was likely beyond a level 7 Elder Lich's capabilities. He also had his own goals he was working towards, and didn't want to risk dying again and losing more precious memories.

But as he stared down at a father doing everything he could to save his family, he didn't have the heart to say no.

"Can you read?"

Kyle looked up from his groveling. "Pardon?"

"Are you able to read books?"

"Yes... but I can't read runic script."

Lucas used Unseen Hand to pick up A Primer for the First Circle, fed it mana to open it, and showed Kyle the Mana Sense skill's page.

"Read this to me," Lucas said, spawning another Candle Light.

Kyle squinted at the page. "Mana Sense, a first-tier Divination skill. To comprehend this skill, a mage must learn to hone their sight to ignore the mundane and focus on the flow of mana—"

Lucas snapped the book shut. "Good. Wait for me in the mess hall."

Kyle looked perplexed, but did as he was told. He grabbed his sack and headed to the mess hall. Once Lucas had confirmed he wouldn't sneak a peek in the study, he returned to his throne room to stow away the grimoire and retrieve another. A hefty white leather grimoire rimmed in gold, called the Litanies of the Ascending Sun.

***

Kyle waited anxiously in the dark mess hall. Now that he wasn't madly dashing through the tomb in search of the Elder Lich, the silence ate away at his sanity. Every shifting shadow startled him, and he wondered if another undead goblin would attack him at any moment.

The Elder Lich has been gone for a while. Kyle cupped his hands and breathed into them to warm them. It was like a cold cellar in here, made worse by the whistling wind coming from the ajar front door down the hallway. But why did he test if I could read, and where did he go?

Kyle shifted on the cold seat again, keeping his legs crossed for warmth. The look of despair on Guildmistress Ragna's face when he told her he had encountered an Elder Lich in the mountains flashed through his mind. It was hard to forget her reaction, and the lecture that followed about Guild protocol and how he had almost gotten the town wiped out.

"Elder Liches are as powerful as they are cruel. It's a miracle he didn't turn you into an undead just to keep you quiet," Ragna had ranted while pacing her office. "Don't speak to him again, you hear me? Not until there's a Dawnkeeper present. That's the Guild's rules."

Kyle knew he was putting the entire town at risk by begging an Elder Lich for help, but he and everyone else knew—they had been left to die. Frostkiln was a small blacksmith-focused town deep in the ice-capped mountains. Trade happened only in the summer months, and they were deep in winter. It would be a perilous journey for a Dawnkeeper to make at this time of the year.

His wife would succumb to the Blight long before spring arrived, and only the gods knew what fate awaited his son on those walls.

It's going to be okay, he assured himself, rocking back and forth to keep the blood moving. The Elder Lich isn't like the other cruel Archmages. I can tell he still has a heart.

A warm light spilled into the mess hall, followed by the click of bone on stone.

Kyle looked up expectantly at the hallway that led deeper into the tomb as the light drew closer. Eventually, a towering figure ducked into the mess hall, and twin violet eyes settled on him.

"Still here? Good," the Elder Lich said. His voice was ancient and hollow, filling Kyle with dread and a sense of what was to come. The floating lights orbiting the Elder Lich did little to soften his inhuman appearance as he set a hefty book down before him.

It looked expensive. Its cover was white leather rimmed with gold, and its title was written in the common language.

"Litanies of the Ascending Sun, authored by Lambert Pennock of the Zenith High Council..." Kyle glanced up at the Elder Lich standing across the table. "You want me to read a grimoire written by someone from the Zenith for you?"

"If you can, I will help you and your family," the Elder Lich promised. "If not, then you will have to find me someone who can."

[Author Note]

I decided to change Kyle's age from early twenties to forties, so that he could have a son.