The Lich King Reincarnates as a Baby

++I made mistakes in the early days after my rebirth, mistakes that I could never fully undo. I was caught in that confusing half-state between lichdom and life, unsure which I would fall into and making decisions from both as if they were in any way compatible. Even I cannot revert time.++

- From the writings of Isabel Vornholt, ‘The Great Lich’. 1,891 A.E.

Tracking down Agrian was difficult work. More difficult than I had expected.

There were a number of leisure-houses in Garamon, as well as clubs and other places that someone of his family and history might be found in. He was not in any of them, nor even had any of them seen him. For all intents and purposes, my brother had simply vanished from the face of Arwyna.

But there is ‘vanished’ and then there is vanished. Agrian was not capable of teleporting between continents or flying into space, nor had he ever learned how to travel between the planes surrounding physical reality. Short of that, he could do nothing to keep me from finding him eventually.

What had me worried was that ‘eventually’ may prove longer than my few remaining weeks.

It was easy enough to find out where Agrian had first docked, I knew there was only one possible location for that as the army only sent ships along one route to Orapathaqi. From there things became complicated. I had to ask around for eye witness accounts from months in the past, then sift through the many differences between them.

Eventually I gave up and took a shot in the dark; flying my way to the Winzorth Institute. I would have preferred not to, the disaster that it had experienced when I last set foot there may well have aroused suspicion against me, but my plans were in more danger than my reputation at the moment.

Repairs had clearly not taken long, despite the extent of the damage. That much was not a surprise. The Winzorth Institute boasted more than a thousand high-level magicians at any given time, and perhaps a hundred Highmages. I would have been shocked if it had not completely undone the harm caused by my little diversion since I last came here.

It may even have taken me more time to ask around for sightings of Agrian than it did for the building to be mended.

Eventually I was directed to a district of Laugrey and permitted to head over there myself. I could have travelled by carriage, it would certainly be less overt, but I was worried about Agrian catching wind that I was coming. He might flee before I arrived.

At my flying speed, he did not have the chance. I moved almost two miles over the city in roughly ten seconds, and came to land before the set of rooms Agrian was staying in faster than a spectator would have been able to react. I knocked on his door and patiently waited for the answer. To my surprise, I found that I was nervous.

The door opened before I could explore that feeling, and I found Agrian on the other side of it.

He had not changed much. Perhaps his face was thinner, the skin drawn tighter, but his eyes were the same deep colour and his hair as dark a black as my own. He looked at me with a mix of surprise, anger and horror, like I were some recurring nightmare unexpectedly come to life.

“Isabel,” he said after a moment. His voice was so stiff with forced politeness, and his physical resemblance so strong to our father, that for a moment I felt like I was being addressed by Baron Vornholt.

“Agrian,” I nodded. “May I come in?”

He wavered. I could see him torn between denying and accepting, but after a moment my brother nodded and stepped aside to grant me passage.

The inside of his home was smaller than I would have expected, but then a moment of thought explained it. Agrian’s pay from the army was better than average, but property in Laugrey—especially this close to Winzorth—was expensive. I was actually surprised he was paying his own way at all rather than accepting the free accommodations Winzorth had doubtless offered him.

“You can stop sneering at my house now,” he told me.

“You own the building?”

“Ah, no. Apartment. I meant to say apartment. Still new to…you know. Not owning houses.”

Agrian led me into a living room and took a seat opposite me.

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“I’ve heard about your new business with the oil refinery,” he began. “Heard about it everywhere.”

I was not surprised. Ever since my return from Orapathaqi, news had been following me closely. My association with Agrian’s name, and his supposed heroics, had done a lot to grease the wheels of my plans, and the Vornholt family’s esteem was stronger than ever. The currency coming in from my work was almost a mere bonus.

And yet, despite my brother being at the centre of all the stories, I had not heard any more about him since then.

“What have you been doing?” I asked, finding myself genuinely curious.

Agrian shrugged. “Walking around. Talking to people, helping out where I can, I guess. I didn’t like the army. I didn’t like the things I did there, and I don’t like that I’m moping around thinking of all the murders I did as if I’m the worst victim in it all. How’s your handmaiden? Nesariyah?”

I had not seen her in quite some time, but as I understood it, Sethira had inducted her into Sakhent’s cult and had the girl training in her magic for quite some time. She was the best kind of student, both talented and motivated, and she already had a large grounding in magic from her early education as a priestess, but she was still years away from being a true battlemage.

“She is well,” I replied, simplifying the topic immensely.

Agrian nodded. “Good,” he said. “That’s good.”

The silence that followed lasted the better part of a minute. When had things become awkward with my brother?

I did not like that they had, nor did I like that I was forced to break this silence the way I was.

“To tell the truth,” I began. “...The business is not doing well currently.”

Agrian stiffened. “How come?” he asked. “I guess you’ve never run one before, but it’s weird to think you’d be bad at it. Gods know you’re good at pretty much everything else.”

“The problem here was not with me, but with sabotage…” I explained recent events and watched the emotions play out on Agrian’s face. When I was done, his jaw had a vein the size of my finger dancing against the skin.

“Qaigor was there, and they set off a fucking explosion,” he hissed. “Everyone’s alright though?”

“Yes, we are all fine,” I confirmed. “But, as I said, the machinery was damaged. If the business is to remain afloat, it needs money I do not have for some emergency repairs. Grandfather has assured me he can pay for them, but only because I let him believe that I was running the business on behalf of…you.”

Agrian was a smart person. A very smart person. If he was willing to make a connection, and not blinded by the idea of how he would rather things be, it took him very little time at all to notice patterns and assess them. I saw the understanding flare up in his eyes like a fireball, and his expression was hard within a moment.

“And that’s why you’re here,” he said at last. “Not to see me, not because you’re worried or you miss me or you want to apologise, but because you need something from me.”

I was surprised to find myself defensive.

“I wanted you to have space,” I said, speaking honestly for once. “I thought you would—”

“You wanted me to have space, until it became a problem for you, then you were rushing over here instantly,” he cut in.

“That is not…” The denial died in my throat. “Okay, yes, that is true. But you surely realise there is a difference in scale between your need for privacy and my need to avoid bankruptcy.”

Agrian scoffed. “Yeah, there’s always a logical reason for everything you do.”

I found myself speechless, and just sat there while my brother fumed. When he spoke next, he was still on the attack.

“I know your secret,” he said at last. “I know what you are.”

My mortal heart almost stopped. Agrian grinned.

“You’re working to become a lich.”

For a moment I just sat there, considering his words. ‘Working to’. So he still thought I was mortal. Which meant he did not actually know any of my major secrets.

“How…did you come to this conclusion?” I asked him.

“What does it matter?” he snapped.

“You have been studying necromancy,” I realised at last. “You must have been.”

He had started studying necromancy, and was so talented that he had already worked out for a fact that lichdom existed. Agrian Vornholt, he truly was a diamond of magic. If I died before him he would undeniably be the world’s greatest prodigy.

“I said that doesn’t matter,” he cut in. “I know now. I know what you’re doing and how much danger you’re willing to put me and the rest of your family in. So why would I help you with this? Why would I help you when, for all I know, this oil thing is just a front for some other scheme that’ll bring a Demigod down on top of you? On top of me? On top of Victoria?!”

I was silent while Agrian glared at me. He seemed to consider my silence to be an answer.

“This is why I left,” he sighed at last. “Because I needed to. Because I needed to live my life, and I know that I can’t do that while I’m anywhere near you. Around you, everything gets caught up and twisted along with your schemes. It’s like you’re constantly surrounded by this fucking…vortex, snatching everything nearby. Well, no more.” He stood up and gestured to the door. “You can see yourself out. Tell our family I said hello, tell them I miss them, and tell them that I need to stay away for at least a while longer. Now go.”

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