Wizard's Tower - Arc 3 - Chapter 48

“Nemon, I apologize for lying,” Pyl’s voice echoed across his laboratory—a room that had seen significant changes since my last visit. 

“Oh?” I had arrived as Pyl was overlooking several open scrolls on the table, and patiently waited for his attention by trying to figure out the purpose of his new design. What had once been a sloppy mess of spare bones and death crystals, then an organized laboratory had now become a ritual chamber had left me stunned. The bare stone walls had been covered in a pale white that looked to be solidified bone dust. Death crystal glowed inside the etched runes and spell circles along the walls and ceiling. At the very center of the spell circle in the ceiling hung an enormous death crystal in the shape of a tear.

No longer were their shelves of scrolls or tomes, bins of bones and other body parts, nor mounds of death crystals. The only furniture in the room was a smooth, ivory table and a matching highback chair. If I didn’t include the undead knights that Pyl had animated to serve as guardians stationed around the room like statues.

“When I said I no longer feel emotions, that wasn’t the truth. I have a hunger and a hatred now. As if all living things are an affront to who I am. With each passing day, it grows greater.”

I didn’t say anything to that. What could I say? I had no notion of what that truly meant or what he faced. I did, however, immediately check the new wards I had placed to protect myself from the smoke he exuded when unmasked and felt relieved they were still in place. An act that made me frown with an uncomfortable realization. I feared Pyl. 

Pyl said nothing, still not having turned towards me since my entrance. I watched as his fingers slowly traced along a line of writing in the scroll he read, carefully considering my words. Should I encourage him to fight the hunger he mentioned? Should I admonish him for it? I knew nothing of his new body. Was this a side effect of his new form? It seemed likely.

The mirror along the wall, the one that allowed us to look into the Plane of Death began to glow, and Pyl stood straight. 

“I hoped to surprise you with a gift, but perhaps it is better that you are here. The… thing… at the center of the Plane of Death is something I have no name for. As ancient as the oldest gods. Yet it can speak. It can bargain.”

A chill went down my spine as his words came out. For all he claimed hatred towards the living, the way he said the word “thing” made his thoughts clear. Yet, the scariest word to me was the word bargain. What deal had Pyl made with some archaic power? I had just sent Leslie and the others away. Without them, I couldn’t think of anything that could contend with Pyl as he was now. Maybe my elemental if Pyl simply didn’t fly over it and lay it low from afar. 

“Tell me more,” My words were softly spoken, barely more than a whisper. If he planned to kill me, perhaps I could distract him long enough to—

“There is no time, master Nemon. Before I go, I wanted you to know that without you I don’t know what I would have become. I can see myself slowly turning into a monster. A thing of death, and I don’t want that. I want to be remembered for who I was and not what I have become.”

The mirror shone brighter, and an image began to appear on it. I could barely make out the form of something repulsive and indescribable before the light grew too bright for me to see. I covered my eyes with a hand, trying to make out what was there, but it wasn’t enough. Instead, I had to place my entire arm before my eyes and turned away. It had become so bright, it felt like it pierced my skull.

I could hear Pyl speaking now, though I couldn’t hear who he was speaking to. “I am ready. Just as we have agreed. A soul for a soul and the window shall be destroyed.”

What followed next was the tortured scream, so painfully loud that I could barely hear my own thoughts. The scream rose, not in volume but in height as whatever was making it moved towards the death crystal in the ceiling. Wind, a stale and bitter tint flowed around the room, flopping the two scrolls onto the floor and tugging at my robes.

Then, the light was gone. It didn’t fade away, or grow brighter, it simply disappeared. I blinked in the darkness, trying to make sense of what just happened. With one hand, I cast a small light spell along the wall, something to see by, but it did little. My head ached, and there were spots in my vision making it hard to see. I didn’t need to see to cast more defensive wards, though, and that’s what I did. Barrier after barrier sprung up around me, yet nothing happened for a long time.

“Pyl?” I called out into the darkened room, even as I rubbed at my teary eyes. There was no answer, only my own voice echoing back to me. It irked me that I was crying, not over pain or sadness, but because of a bright light. I resolved myself to wait in the room until I could be sure my face held no evidence of this.

“Pyl?” I called again, waiting in silence. It was long moments I stood there until my vision came back. The circle of light from the mirror seemed to be ever-present no matter which way my head turned, but I recognized this. Some blinding spells caused it afterward, and a simple healing potion was the solution. 

When my head no longer hurt and my eyes were fine, I saw Pyl’s robes, gloves, and mask laying haphazardly on the floor. The wall that held the mirror now showed an empty space of stone, which was odd given the white and black walls of the room. I reached down to pick up the scrolls that had flown about, but they crumbled to dust in my hands. 

I still wasn’t certain what Pyl had done, nor what I had witnessed. As advanced in necromancy as he’d become, it would take me months to decode the intricacies of the spellforms on the walls. I gathered up his clothing and placed them into my Magical Bag, holding on to them should Pyl be found elsewhere in the tower. I ran my hand over the table, feeling the smooth, gleaming ivory beneath my fingertips. It was excellently made, and not even the grooves of bones remained. 

Finally, with nothing more to do here, I resolved myself to look for Pyl elsewhere. Perhaps he was hiding in the crypt under the lake. I wouldn’t put it past Alred to bring another of my assistants in on a wizard’s trick if he had the chance. That seemed like something he would do. I nodded to myself. Delegating wizard tricks is something I should look into.

It was as I turned to leave, I found someone standing behind me. A ghost and not like the vengeful spirits of a dungeon, but the full figure of man, though I could see through him like cloudy waters. Not just any other man, but one that I recognized. The clothing, the stature, the face--all the same. 

“King Sena?”