Martel threw out his arms as he faced Atreus, trying to physically shield Leander behind him. “Atreus, stop!”
“Stand aside, Martel! He’s undead!” Already, magical energy began to gleam as the spellbreaker prepared his next attack.
“I know! He’s a friend!”
The magic underway beca frozen as Atreus stared at the battlemage, his expression changing from anger to confusion before settling on disdain. “He’s an abomination of the worst kind, Martel. A lich. How can you protect him?”
“Because I know him, and he’s done no harm!”
“Only a matter of ti! His very nature is evil! He must be destroyed!”
“And if you’re wrong?”
“I’m a spellbreaker of Archen, Martel,” ca the reply, spoken with cold anger. “I know the signs of sinister magic better than anyone alive.”
“So you would execute him, though he’s not to bla for his condition? Though he’s done no harm to others?”
“Condition,” Atreus sneered. “He’s not suffering from a cold! He is evil, through and through.”
“And if you t soone who’d survived three hundred years through leeching magic, what would you think of them?”
At last, Martel’s words had an effect other than arousing ire; lowering his hands, the magic around them dissipating, Atreus breathed deeply. “That’s different. I’m still human. I’m a victim of maleficus, not its practitioner,” ca the retort, though he sounded less assured of himself.
“Sa can be said for Leander. He had no part in the magic that twisted him to undeath. Are we so quick to judge, passing a judgent of execution no less?”
Atreus’s eyes seed to pass through Martel, staring at the seemingly frail, old man behind him. “Alright. We can discuss this. Before we cast judgent.” His voice had resud its harsh tone, but he finally relaxed his shoulders. “We’ll fetch Eleanor.”
“A fascinating discussion of morality!” Leander exclaid, his mood apparently unaffected by the philosophy being discussed having very practical implications for his continued lack of breathing. “I chose well to co here.”
“You stay rooted in this spot,” the spellbreaker commanded. “If I sense the smallest inclination of a spell being cast, I will throw your skull into acid.” He glanced at Martel. “Don’t let him out of your sight. I’ll find Eleanor.”
As Atreus stalked away, Martel exhaled and turned to look at Leander. “Welco ho.”
“Most exciting. I’ve not felt this alive in centuries, pardon the expression.” The lich regarded his protector. “What do you think would happen if my head was separated from my body and lowered into acid?”
“Well, if I can’t persuade a spellbreaker to ignore his every instinct, you’ll find out.”
The Triumvirate of Archen assembled, this ti in even less formal surroundings than usual. As Atreus demanded there be eyes on Leander at all tis, they simply gathered in the open, standing next to the old road that led west to Aster. Fifty paces away, the subject of their discussion stood, entirely still like a statue.
“Say your piece and let’s be done with this,” Atreus spoke through a clenched jaw.
“I have never seen you this agitated,” Eleanor remarked.
“I have every reason to be agitated,” the spellbreaker retorted, clearly struggling to contain his emotions. “Few things are as dangerous as a lich. You should know! Have you forgotten Karolos already?”
“Hardly,” Martel replied, “but surely you see the difference. This is not a forr archmage gone mad from three hundred years of isolation and the use of forbidden magic. He’s a simple apprentice who’s spent his centuries making redies for those in need.”
“He is a creature of deceit! All of what you said, a re disguise, sa as how he wears the guise of the living,” Atreus shot back. “Clearly, he doesn’t lack cunning.”
“He had lived in that village where we t him for many years,” Eleanor chid in. “The people had nothing but praise for him.”
“Considering the welco he received here, once his ho, I can’t bla him for pretending to be among the living,” Martel added.
“Of course he helped them, gaining their trust! A sheep is easier led to slaughter when it trusts the butcher.” The spellbreaker cast another angry glare at the lich in the distance, still to move. “I have more experience with the undead than both of you together. I’d ask you to respect my judgent in this matter.”
Martel shook his head. “I made my choice years ago when I first t him. I won’t kill soone simply because I fear their nature. Not when he’s given no reason.”
“Martel, the living should not mingle with the dead!”
“Maybe that should change. Our people could use another skilled apothecary for their ills.”
Atreus stared at him with incredulity. “You’re willing to risk bringing this abomination among our people just for the sake of a cough redy?”
“I’ve seen what a plague can do,” Martel replied, and despite his best effort to stay calm, his tone beca cold. “I laboured every waking hour for months producing cures, and it made barely a dent. Trust , should that day co, you’ll thank the Stars we have an alchemist among us who never sleeps.”
“Is that your reasoning?” The spellbreaker locked eyes with the battlemage, still wearing an expression of disbelief.
“No, that’s simply a practical argunt. I’d still argue to let him stay if he had no value. Because that is how I see Archen,” Martel continued. “A place that is ho to all. Where we judge people on their deeds, not their nature. Certainly not sothing beyond their control, which they never had a hand in to begin with.”
Atreus turned towards Eleanor with an anticipatory expression. She looked from one to the other. “Although more hesitant to trust than Martel is, I agree with him nonetheless.” She glanced at where the lich stood unmoving. “When you unleashed your spell on Leander, Atreus, he made no attempt to defend himself. If he truly harboured malicious intent, he would have done so.”
The spellbreaker exhaled. “Very well, then.” His face belied the sentint in his words. “You are the majority. I assu you intend for us to keep his nature a secret?”
“Considering others might share your imdiate reaction, that seems wise. Certainly give him a chance to establish himself first as a friend to us,” Martel considered.
A variety of emotions battled to control Atreus’s expression before it beca blank. “So be it. But I’ve long ago placed wards against the undead on the gates of our city. He won’t be able to enter regardless. Let him find a shelter far from the living, and he must be kept under strict watch. I’ll not forget nor forgive should soone beco a victim due to our carelessness or naivety.”
Martel bowed his head. “Agreed.”
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