Chapter Fifteen: Destiny
The building he now called his home was a complex series of pathways, dead ends, and unopened doors. It could almost be considered a world unto itself. His first steps inside exposed him to ancient magical runes glowing on the walls. Some of them were so complicated it took him a full year in order to break the seal. Only in his wildest fantasies did he ever imagine himself in a place so densely wrapped in magical power. The more he explored the more knowledge he uncovered. It was as if this place existed for the sole purpose of his use.
However, the outside world refused to be ignored despite his best efforts to make his tower the only world. His body was still human and thus craved the necessities of food and sleep. Perhaps just as urgent as his primitive desires for bodily nourishment was the desire for his mind to be nourished as well. He was gathering so much from exploring his tower but he could sense there was still more to be known. The Philosopher's Stone in particular remained as elusive as when he first began searching for it. Clearly gaining more knowledge on his own wasn't going to lead him to his goal. He would have to once again stoop to what he hated most, and seek help from others.
Such a goal would prove to be much harder than it sounded. The only people he could think of to seek out were fellow necromancers, and he was certain they wouldn't expose themselves in public because of their sacrilegious practices. It seemed that the only possible way of finding others like him would be to seek out powerful magicians from around Midgard and learn all he could to find clues that they too studied the forbidden arts. Lezard chose to search away from his home of Flenceberg, wanting no further connections with that place.
Magicians were certainly not rare in Midgard, but finding ones with enough power to master necromancy took some work. Even then it was not enough to tell him who he could approach. He had several potential candidates but could find nothing through research that would lead him to believe they were anything more than powerful magicians. It seemed he had no other choice than to risk investigating these magicians in person. If it went badly he could always kill them. With that in mind he picked the first promising name on his short list.
Lombert of Artolia.
The research he had done showed that this man was an accomplished magician, though for many years now he had been serving in the Artolian court as an advisor to the king. It didn't seem very promising but it was better than nothing. Lezard pulled out a map of Midgard and focused on Artolia's location. It was quite a distance but he could manage if he concentrated. He had been practicing the spell throughout the tower and it had been working flawlessly so far. Granted the distance would be much greater but the same principle should apply regardless. He shifted around in hopes of finding a recent map of Artolia. Luck was with him; he pulled one out and spread it out over the desk.
Lezard closed his eyes and pictured what he had seen on the map. He would have to appear in a spot away from town to avoid detection. According to the map, there was a hill close to town but still far enough for him to arrive without notice. His mind focused on that hill, forming the picture firmly in his mind until he could almost smell the grass. With that image still set in his mind Lezard began to chant the spell. His cape flapped against him as the spell gathered power. He didn't dare break his concentration until his cape settled. Only then did he relax and cracked his eyes open. One look was enough to tell him that he had managed to teleport himself to Artolia. However, the spell had severely drained him and he wouldn't be able to do it again for some time. He was trapped here in this place no matter what the outcome of his meeting with Lombert.
He had little interest in the layout of the town or its people. Sightseeing could be done later after the encounter. For now it was merely a place he had to pass through on his way to the castle. As he weaved through the buildings he formed a story to give the palace guards that would allow him inside. He made it to the gate with confidence brimming inside him. Outwardly he presented a timid persona who was unwilling to lift his head.
"Please let me by, sirs," he begged in an anxious tone. "Please, it's absolutely important!"
"We can't let you pass until we know your business here," said a guard stubbornly.
"Oh, but I'm late enough already," Lezard moaned out, wringing his hands. "Master Lombert will be so furious with me! I was supposed to deliver something very important then come right back!"
"A messenger from Master Lombert?" The two guards turned toward each other and held a whispered conference. Lezard tried to listen while maintaining his act of a whimpering man now on the verge of tears. The longer they took in reaching a decision the more agitated Lezard acted, until he was threatening to hyperventilate. "Look, this guy's nearly in hysterics," one of the guards finally hissed to his companion. "We better just let him go on through." They turned back and the same guard addressed Lezard directly: "You can pass on through. Master Lombert is probably in his study."
"Thank you so much!" Lezard cried, bowing down low before the two guards. "You have no idea how much this means to me." He quickly passed through the gate before they could change their minds. Once he was a safe distance away he could allow the act to drop and expel the laughter he had been holding back. Really, people were so easy to manipulate. He had no idea where Lombet's study would be but he couldn't ask for directions without appearing suspicious. He did know the typical layout of a castle, though, and judged that private rooms would be located on the upper floors.
He still had little sense that this would prove to be a fruitful adventure. So far things had been going well for him but there was still the chance that Lombert would prove to truly be nothing more than a court magician. It would be terribly disappointing, and on top of that he would have to stay here wasting time while he waited for his magic to grow strong enough to get him back home. Certainly not the most appealing of outcomes.
He found a door that was cracked open and decided to investigate. He carefully nudged it open a little wider. "What is it?" snapped an impatient voice. "I'm very busy at the moment." Lezard pushed the door completely open and let himself inside.
"Are you Lombert?" he demanded, eyeing the older man in the room. This place looked like a normal study, complete with shelves of thick volumes and jumbles of papers stacked together. The man sitting behind the large oak desk looked to be much older than Lezard with his hair fading into dull gray. On Lezard's entrance the man rose quickly to his feet.
"Who the hell are you?"
"I believe I asked you first," Lezard said calmly, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "However, I will still respond: I am a magician from Flenceberg." The mentioning of Flenceberg had an interesting effect on the older man. His eyes widened in alarm and he grew tense.
"What does a magician from Flenceberg want with me?"
"I wish to speak with you, that's all," Lezard replied smoothly. "I understand that before you became a servant of the Artolian king, you were a powerful magician. I am seeking more knowledge and I hoped I could find that knowledge in you." His explanation didn't ease the older man's tension very much.
"You want me to be your teacher?"
"Nothing like that. I am merely here to propose an exchange: you give me something I want and I will give you something you want." There was a heavy silence as Lombert considered this offer. He crossed around the room so he could study the younger man closely.
"What could you possibly offer me?" he asked. Lezard smiled and held out a bag containing Ghoul Powder. When Lombert looked puzzled, the younger man pulled open the bag so his elder could see the contents. The old man let out a startled gasp and reached for the bag, but Lezard pulled it out of his reach. "Ghoul Powder!" Lombert croaked in amazement.
"It's the real thing, I assure you," Lezard smirked. He closed the bag again and tied it securely at his hip. Lombert's eyes now regarded the young necromancer with interest. "Now that I have your attention, can I be assured that you wish to trade with me?"
"What do you wish to know?"
"The Philosopher's Stone," Lezard said at once. "As much information as you can." He expected the older man to look surprised at this request. Instead, Lezard was the surprised one as Lombert considered the request seriously.
"That is very valuable information. Worth much more than a simple bag of Ghoul Powder. You need to offer a more equivalent exchange or there will be no deal." Lezard scowled; the old bastard certainly knew how to negotiate. However, Lezard wasn't out of tricks just yet.
"You are quite right in saying that simple Ghoul Powder is not a fair trade for information on the Stone. But what if I were to tell you that I could make Ghoul Powder that transforms humans into demons? You will agree that such a transformation requires a more complex form of the powder. Of course," he added with a slow smile, "you'll have to take my word for it that it works."
"Indeed," Lombert agreed. "Until I know that it works properly, I'm afraid I can't give you any information on the Stone. However, as a measure of good faith, I am willing to offer you information about Asgard or Yggdrasil."
"Yggdrasil?" Lezard scoffed. "What child doesn't know about the World Tree? I've even been to the place where the entrance is said to be! Nothing you can tell me about Yggdrasil would be of any use to me!" He fell into amused laughter. Lombert waited patiently until the laughter subsided.
"Then I suppose you know how you could get into Yggdrasil," he said quietly.
"Humans cannot enter Yggdrasil, you old fool," Lezard insisted. "Everyone knows that." He was starting to feel irritated. He had used up a great deal of magic coming all this way, and now this fool was wasting his time. "You must think I'm an amateur," Lezard snarled. "I am quite powerful even though I am young. I teleported here all the way from Flenceberg." This revelation brought forth another lengthy pause where the two magicians regarded one another.
"How could one so young master such a powerful spell?" Lombert whispered at last. Lezard made no answer, merely giving the older man a mysterious smile. "The human body cannot enter Yggdrasil, this is true. But if you were to discard your human body, I have no doubt that you could find your way to Yggdrasil."
"That is an interesting theory. But other than dying and being taken by the Valkyries to Valhalla, how would one find their way to the World Tree?"
"That is all I can tell you for a pouch of Ghoul Powder," Lombert said, smirking at the younger man. Lezard gritted his teeth in frustration but knew he could not argue. He untied the pouch and placed it in Lombert's hand. The only remaining card in his hand was the more potent Ghoul Powder, which of course he had been smart enough not to bring along for the first interview.
"That powder will turn any human who consumes it into the undead. Yes," he smirked, when he noticed Lombert's surprise, "I know I said they would become demons. I can indeed make such a substance, but I wasn't foolish enough to bring it with me as my first bargaining chip. This sample is a sign of good faith that you will be giving me much better information in our next encounter. I assure you I will be bringing the more potent Ghoul Powder next time."
"… Well." His lack of words was enough to show how impressed he was by Lezard's ingenuity. "In that case I look forward to our next meeting."
The two worked out a plan so Lezard would have an easy time reaching Lombert when next he came to call. The young man had some time to kill while he waited for his magic to regain enough strength to send him back home. While he waited he toured the town. It was a fairly large city with many shops and houses lining the streets. It was the most contact he'd had with other people in a long time.
Naturally, when he returned back to his tower he shut himself away again. Closing himself off from the outside world was the best way for him to get a task done quickly. Of course going quickly did not mean he would be sloppy; he had to make this powder correctly if he wanted good information out of the older magician. His information about Yggdrasil had been more tantalizing than Lezard would have expected. If Lezard could find a way to dispose of his human body yet keep a hold of his spirit, would he be able to walk upon Yggdrasil and perhaps even Asgard? It was something he would have to test at a later time. His quest for the Stone took highest priority.
It took him several months to make the more potent powder, and once he did Lezard was sure to check that it did indeed work as he had claimed. Once the powder proved itself to be effective (and Lezard disposed of his test subject) he was ready to return to Artolia. Surely this time he could get some information on the Stone. Ghoul Powder that changed humans into demons was a very difficult substance to make, and mistakes could prove to be disastrous for not only the subject but for others as well. One who could master the art deserved to know about the Stone.
That was what he was planning to say if Lombert refused to give him what he wanted. However, when he arrived in the man's study it looked as if he would have to wait. Lombert was away for the moment and he left no message saying when he would return. Feeling immensely irritated, Lezard paced restlessly around the study. He had half a mind to steal the older man's books while he waited. Lezard could have forgiven the other man's absence if only he had some indication of when the other planned on coming back. Lombert knew damn well that Lezard would be arriving shortly. It was rude, and Lezard hated such disrespect for his time and talents.
He paused in his furious pacing as something unusual caught his eye. It looked to be a crystal globe of some kind. Lezard moved closer to examine the object. Inside the globe was a miniature model of Yggdrasil and each of the worlds the Tree supported. Lezard felt overcome with a strange desire to touch the globe. His hand moved forward and he carefully placed a finger over the tiny representation of Midgard.
A beautiful woman with braided silvery hair stood proudly in the study. She was dressed in armor and bore the helmet of the Valkyries. He could see her face, the fierce light in her eyes, the nobility in her very being. When she spoke her voice carried such force and power. Another was by her side, a man wielding a heavy sword in both hands. Together they fought against someone… a magician, it seemed. Then the man who had fought with the Valkyrie took out a blade and ended his own life.
Lezard stumbled away, shaking from the experience. What had that been? A premonition? He never knew he had such a power. The image of the battle-maiden still burned in his mind's eye. Lezard never thought very much of females, considering them to be weak and useless. But this battle-maiden was much more than a woman. She was a beautiful, noble goddess who gathered souls to be her Einherjar. She had wielded such power in that vision and even in her fierce anger she was strikingly beautiful. Lezard already longed to see her again. He touched the globe but nothing happened this time. No visions came to him. It seemed he would have to find her another way.
Lezard left the pouch of Ghoul Powder on Lombert's desk. It could not be considered an equivalent exchange but it was all he brought. Somehow seeing her had opened his mind. He knew where the Stone was hidden, how to find it, how to use it. He would need it if he were to see her again.
Her name was Lenneth Valkyrie, and she belonged to him.