Chapter 2: Undeath

  I awoke, to my surprise, without any pain. Without any sensation whatsoever.

  Is this death? I thought to myself.

  I didn’t expect a response. I was surprised when, out of the darkness, came green text:

  I didn’t even have time to reply before more of the strange text appeared.

  Honestly, I felt rather insulted by the last.

  Completely baffled, I was only able to stare as the last line repeated.

  With the last message, the world went white and a rushing noise surrounded me.

  ?

  I awoke, for the third time in as many hours, to the clanging of metal on stone. Knowing where this was going I shot up, to find myself, yet again, in a room I didn’t recognise. I looked around. Nothing, I was alone; locked up.

  My feet clacked across the floor as I paced. The room was some kind of cell with rusted metal fittings and a rotted wooden door.

  What in the name of the three laws of magic is happening? I thought, desperately. Nothing was making any sense.

  I had been assassinated, an Archmagus who’s spent most of his life researching new magical methods and hadn’t involved himself in politics. Hell, I hadn't even seen another living being in over a hundred years - before I went to the capital. Sometimes I would get carried away in my work.

  Then, I had resurrected as a Natural Lich, an occurrence so rare that the last recorded case happened before I was born, over one thousand years ago. I clattered to the ground in the corner of the barren room, my fingers massaging my pterions.

  After that I had entered an unstable portal, a dangerous proposition to be sure - but normally the spell would protect one from falling into other realms, such as the abyss. I should have just been spat out in a random location.

  What went wrong? I wondered, staring up at the damp and mouldy stone ceiling.

  Of course, I thought as it struck me:

  The bark of an everlasting oak, it was meant to protect anything living, by that point I was already dead. If anything, the addition of such a material guaranteed an unsafe journey.

  I sat up straighter, at least able to solve one of the many pressing mysteries.

  Next I had somehow survived being dissolved within the abyss, a realm notorious for destroying anything it came in contact with. Looking down at my body, or lack thereof, I learned why.

  – Years earlier, I had discovered that most failed spell creations ended with an explosion, and, that broken bones take far too long to heal; even with magical intervention. Although my wards could protect me from direct harm; they could not stop the kinetic force completely, so I had spent twenty years slowly reinforcing and inscribing my bones with layer upon layer of magical protection. The ingredients I used alone would be enough to buy a small country, but if it saved me even a second between failed experiments it was worth it.

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  Still, despite that - what remained of my skeleton was yellow and beginning to chip, with only the black lines of runes breaking up the shape.

  I was beyond surprise at this point, so I just decided to go with it.

  Frankly I was rather impressed with myself for managing to create anything that could hold up to the abyss, although none of my spatially enchanted rings or other artefacts survived.

  Looking at the aforementioned runes, another question struck me:

  How can I see? I have no eyes.

  I could still feel the hot white fluid dripping out of my sockets and down my cheek.

  Come to think of it, the green text had said my race was skeleton. I had, of course, come across many undead skeletons in my life, although I had never had the opportunity to study their means of sight.

  “Was it some sort of innate Skill of the undead?” I wondered aloud.

  At the word “Skill” a blue, translucent window appeared before me.

  Spells: 1 ?

  Attributes: AP - 0 ?

  Huh? Was all thought as I pressed my distal phalanx straight through the illusion with no resistance. I turned my head from side to side; the window remained directly in front of me.

  What was this thing? I had never heard of the like, some sort of diagnostic spell combined with an illusion perhaps? But no, I could sense no magic emanating from it, fascinating. Metal clanged once more outside my cell door. looking up, I saw nothing so I returned to the blue window. Except it had vanished without a trace. Thinking quickly, I spoke, “Skills,” and to my delight it reappeared.

  Studying the Skills written I had some testing to do; desiring confirm this manifestation's veracity.

  If my newfound sight worked as described, I should be able to see the moss’s life force, growing as it was, in the cracked walls. Closing my non-existent eyes to focus, which somehow still blinded me, I looked only at the moss.

  Sure enough, if I blurred my vision, the resolution dropped and I could see only a glowing gold mass wherever the moss sprouted. Not only that, but I discovered it grew through to the other side.

  Letting out a bone chilling breath, I released the Skill, Life Sense. It was strangely difficult to reduce my sight to such a quality, but it did grant me the ability to see through walls.

  Wanting to test the Skill further, I stared closely at a patch of bare stone, and, to my delight, there were indeed tiny specimens of living matter; gathered closely around the damper areas. When I got closer, the colour I had seen as grey - from a distance - changed to gold. Retreating, the larger picture still appeared to be grey stone. The effect was rather enthralling, I spent the next few minutes moving forward and back, trying to understand how it worked.

  Eventually, I was forced to admit that I wouldn’t be able to understand this phenomenon at the moment. Instead, I tried another of the “Skills”, Bone Claws. With but a thought, the phalanges of my right hand lengthened; sharpening into wicked points. Another effect that used no magic, to my eye. I was fascinated.

  The keenness of the weapons, combined with my bone’s innate hardness, allowed me to easily scratch into the stonework - although I lacked the Strength to penetrate very far.

  Returning to my pacing, I postulated aloud:

  “Perhaps my lesser Strength has some connection to the System I saw before.” As I had secretly hoped, something new appeared at my words.

  “One Spell?” I questioned, indignant. At my words, that section expanded.

  Attributes: AP - 0 ?

  My indignation only deepened at this. Everyone knew that any spell required material components, it was one of the three laws of magic for arcane’s sake!

  I had tried contorting my mana in any number of ways, the method above included, but never to any effect. Not without spell components.

  Before I could rant to myself about such a ludicrous idea, the door to my cell was kicked in. A brute of a zombie dragging a massive hammer saw me and screeched in an ungodly voice before charging.

  Shit!