A Bored Lich Chapter 393

Published at 7th of February 2022 02:50:32 PM

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Olpi stuffed all the junk back in the corner where it belonged and sighed. Just as she was about to resign herself to never understanding Frey, a light came to life. Turning around, she discovered that there were two sources of light; the bright, blue cape and Elero's back.

Unlike the pale, constant light of a light crystal - they were radiant. They brightened and dimmed as a singular heartbeat. Curiosity beckoned her closer. Kneeling next to Elero, Olpi found that there were patterns dancing under Elero's back as if they were alive. The air around her was thick with a form of magic that made Olpi's eyes widen, for in all her years of study she had never seen it. She blinked.

The lights vanished. A tense stillness crept out from the corners while she waited. Nothing.

Olpi let out a breath, reached out for the cape, and grabbed it. It was as dull as she had found it. She shook it, flapped it, wore it, and even sent mana around it, but it was just a normal cape. 'I've had enough secrets for one day,' she thought. She wondered if she should go in the pile of junk in the corner, seeing as how useless she was to the group. When she tossed the cape to the side however, a book lay beside Elero.

Yellowed, wrinkled pages were barely held together by leather binding. She knew Frey would be out for a while so she carefully picked it up.

"The legend of Arthur Botoman," the front read.

The name was unfamiliar, but with nothing else to do she opened the book to its first page. She skimmed through a few pages, then flipped back to the first page to read it more thoroughly, a smile forming on her face. She found herself sitting down, the book in one hand and a light crystal in the other. She'd check on Elero every now and again, but her eyes didn't leave the pages for too long.

"The slime king?" She accidentally said aloud, chuckling to herself. She flipped through a few more pages.

"So strong, yet somehow defeated by a librarian?" She chuckled again. She flipped the page. Her smile softened. She slowly flipped to the next. "That poor librarian."

The stories were good distractions, albeit short. Her expression changed when she got to the last page. The handwriting was different from the rest of the contents. It must have been written afterwards.

"Dear Frey Botoman,

I am no longer a hero of legend, not anymore. My wrinkled fingers cannot hold the sword which was bestowed upon me, and my back aches far too much to carry the world's burdens. I am just a tired, old man, whose days are numbered. That is why I feel that I must write to you, a warning, for when I leave this world I will pass onto you a portion of my burden.

Being a hero, I was treated to the world's greatest luxuries, after I proved myself time and time again. I worked and struggled to be what I have become, but others do not see it that way. Others only see the hero's power, and their jealousy will come after my descendents, you, your sister, your father, and your mother. That is why, Frey, you must protect them.

You must forever be cautious. They could come for you at any time. Tell no one of your heritage, but do not be ashamed of it. You are who you are, and there is no changing that.

Develop your strength. Willpower alone will not carry you through the coming battles.

Focus on the mind. You need to be quick-witted in a pinch. Become someone able to protect your friends and, most importantly, your family. You must never turn away from those with our blood, no matter what. You are all together in this mess, which I must unfortunately pass onto you. I am sorry I cannot do more for you.

Truth be told, an old friend had warned me of this eventuality a long, long time ago. If he were still alive, I wonder if he would lecture me for being overly optimistic. May you find someone who may guide you like he did for me. May you find a place in this world. May you find peace after all you will go through. May you make your own story, the story of Frey Botoman.

Love,

Grandpa"

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It was as if the room had grown eyes which to judge her with. Ghosts of the hero's long dead companions had watched her dig up a past that Frey had buried. Of course he was angry at her. She hadn't acted within her proper place.

She set the book on the pile of things, dusted the cape off, and set it over everything. She let out a defeated sigh. 'How do I make this right?' she thought, rubbing her forehead. 'I should just apologize. Maybe he'll understand.'

Elero stirred.

Olpi knelt by her. "Are you awake?" she asked.

Elero let out a pained groan. Her eyes moved underneath her eyelids. She was still struggling to regain consciousness.

'This isn't good. She shouldn't have recovered this fast,' Olpi thought, her face paling. 'Where is Frey with that firewood?' Her ears twitched.

As if on cue, a pair of heavy footsteps trudged in the distance. She breathed a sigh of relief and climbed up the ladder. Just as she was about to lift the shield, intending to greet Frey, she heard the footsteps pass her. 'Maybe he's lost,' she thought, remembering how he struggled to find his shelter the first time he looked for it.

She tilted her head to the side, and closed her eyes. The crunch of the snow was heavy, meaning a weight similar to Frey's was behind them, but it was subtly different. It didn't have the metallic crunch of Frey's boots.

She glanced back at Elero, who was still unconscious. She was running out of time. She pressed her hand against the shield covering the entrance, and pushed.

Peering out into the winter woodlands, she heard the footsteps continue around to the right. She craned her neck but she couldn't get a good look at him. She glanced back at Elero, sighed, and pushed the shield to the side. Climbing up to the top, she pushed branches to the side and peered at the figure.

He was familiar, but he wasn't Frey. If she recalled correctly, his name was Owen.

Owen knelt down and felt the tracks Frey had left behind. 'Is he crazy,' Olpi thought.. 'What is he doing in monster infested woods?' She tried to call out to him, but her words were stifled by a hand that wrapped itself around her mouth.

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