Ulma, and the End of the Beginning [6/6]

There it was, floating. The horrible terrible thing in her memories. The creature she could not understand or name. But now she knew, with all the wisdom she had gained, this was an arch-lich. The telltale runes, inscribed into its bones like tattoos, were the marker that it wasn’t merely a normal lich. Of course, a normal lich wouldn’t have been anything to sniff at either, but this was especially dangerous. Yew had known, by instinct, how inherently malevolent it was when they met; she had’t needed the soul brand as proof. And now this being of death, magic, and madness stood before them, blocking their exit. It’s very existence a testament to the greed and ambition it must have had while alive.

Yew brought her staff to guard, wondering if they would have to push past it and run. It had the dreadful advantage of being able to fly through the walls that they, as flesh and blood beings, would have to run around.

“Fascinating rune work, isn’t it?” The arch-lich’s voice rasped out, emanating from nowhere in particular; still, it moved its jaw as if it was still bound by vocal cords as they were. “I’ve been studying this place for years, and yet I don’t recognize a single one of them,” it remarked.

“Stay back!” Ulma shouted, releasing Yew’s hand to form an offensive spell.

“But, I think I have finally figured out what they can do,” it ignored them, “all I needed was a test subject or two. It was so good of you to wander in on your own like this! You have spared me an awful lot of trouble, you have my utmost thanks. And to think, one of you would be that little slip of a thing.” He turned his piercing white eyes on Yew, “I never imagined you would change so much. To think you were capable of growth,” and then his gaze took on an intensity that made Yew immensely uncomfortable, “I really should have kept you around to observe. Such a rare specimen, why must my existence be so full of regrets?” It cupped a skeletal hand around where its cheek would have been.

Yew couldn’t help the reflexive step she took backward. Whatever fixation it was developing on her, Yew would very much prefer it to stop. Ulma moved in front of Yew, even though she was the one in the most danger; Yew was far more durable than a regular person, harder to break and easier to fix.

“No matter, I shall just have to rectify this error at once. The human can be the test subject. You, half-ghoul, you will come with me now. Come,” it commanded.

The sound pulled at her soul, compelling her to obey. Telling her that this is what she truly exists for. That if she doesn’t obey she will cease to exist, that he can make it so. There was no before and no after. Only now, only the word and will of this being. But Yew’s soul brand was incomplete, she fought back against the order and refused to move from her sister’s side.

The arch-lich’s eyes flared even brighter, “Come Here, Now.” The words burned inside her, they hurt so so much. The pain caused her to whimper, but she did not move. Yew fell into a crouch, hands clasped over her ears. She fell back on what she always did for comfort, and began humming her song as loudly as she could to drown out the sound of the lich’s voice.

Ulma was done waiting for whatever the undead mage had planned. She poured as much energy as she could into a light magic spell, so hot it would leave burns as she cast it; she paid it no mind, only wincing in discomfort. She was too angry at the audacity of this creature, thinking it could use them to satisfy its curiosity, or whatever it was doing. Ulma wouldn’t let it take her little sister. She threw the spell forward with a furious yell.

Brilliant white-gold arrows shot from between her hands, flying fast and true to their mark. They would not be dissuaded, as relentless as any hound toward their master’s quarry. They pierced through the ethereal shadow shroud and struck at the arch-lich’s body. The powerful light magic caused hairline fractures in the places the arrows hit, but they weren’t a decisive enough blow.

The lich mocked her, “is this the best humans can do these days?” It waved away the damage, as if had never existed. “Pathetic.” It sneered down at them.

Ulma gritted her teeth, and tried a different spell. The rings of purification shone in dazzling concentric circles underneath the creature. As if to add further insult, it remained in place and made no attempt to dodge. The rings lifted, attempting to purify the arch-lich, but they soon shattered apart into lovely fragments. This spell too, was unable to defeat it. Sweat gathered at Ulma’s brow from the strain of it. She tried several other spells, each one failing. The lich remained unbothered, taunting and arrogant. Ulma was panting heavily.

“If you are done, I think I would like to get on with my day,” it pretended to yawn. It raised a hand and launched its own volley of attacks. Dark arrows, a mimic of the golden ones she had cast, were thrown back at them. Ulma dove out of the way, expecting the attempt.

Magic attacks of every element, save for light, were unleashed from the lich. Whether incantations or runes, the variety of spells it knew seemed endless. It didn’t matter, Ulma would protect Yew while she was indisposed. Neither lich nor human paid much attention to the room itself, it seemed to absorb the misfired shots that each of them sent out.

A bolt of lighting struck Ulma, she cried out at the pain of the burn and clenched a hand over her left shoulder. “Ouch, that hurt you old bag of bones!” She rolled away from a follow up strike, glaring. She was getting real sick of this, she thought she might actually have to take this fight seriously. She stood to the sound of the lich’s eager cackles; it really liked using her for target practice, it seemed.

It threw another lance made of shadow toward her, mistakenly thinking she was too tired to move. The lich was quite prone to mistakes, as far as Ulma could tell. Ulma gave up all pretense of being an elegant and proper mage; instead of casting spells, she gathered the raw power of light around her hands. The glowing bands encircled her arms as if she were wearing knuckle-dusters made of light; they radiated so much heat, but that’s what the padded gloves were for.

She changed up her tactics, darting forward to smash a light enhanced fist into the lich’s unsuspecting skull. The crack of its jaw was so satisfying she was willing to let go of all the frustration she felt when it had mocked her honest attempts to use “proper” magic, as her teachers had called it. Ulma wasn’t sure it was all that different, besides, not everyone could be her little sister and effortlessly cast rune spells mid-combat. Frankly, this brawler style suite Ulma far better.

She sent punch after punch into the weak points of the arch-lich’s skeletal body. It felt a bit like fighting a blanket with sticks in it, what with the way each hit caused the shroud to cave around her fist. It didn’t really make a difference, she only had to hit the hard parts. Ulma was unrelenting, smashing the lich into walls and floors. It was shocked, and utterly helpless before her might. Now Ulma was the one laughing. She loved the feeling of her knuckles splitting apart with each heavy blow. She wondered, if she punched hard enough, would her own bones break through her skin? Would she pull her hands back from a strike someday and find them completely eviscerated? Would she even care​?

It made her heart race and her face flush with excitement. She sent another vicious hit to the lich’s face, cracking its jaw off of its skull. How many more hits could it take? She hoped it was several, each more satisfying than the last. The lich was broken in several places, and no longer able to fly. All its power was being channeled into surviving Ulma’s strikes.

Ulma rose up one final time, sure that this would be the decisive blow-

And was promptly blinded by the runes in the room. For a single moment, everything was frozen; the flash as they activated all at once turned the whole room white with light alone.

Then Ulma was gone, and so was the light, and so was the lich.

But not Yew, Yew had to stand in the dark and not know if it had been hours, days, or weeks before she moved. Yew had to stumble home and tell her parents that Ulma was never coming home again. Had to face all the people that loved Ulma and tell them that she disappeared because Yew couldn’t wait for answers that she did not even get. And somehow, she had to make peace with that.