Qairu's laughter was sharp.
"You nearly had me there, Syryn. Do you even know how impossibly difficult it is to create a lich?"
"I know," Syryn drawled. "The last immortal lich was killed nearly a thousand years ago and there hasn't been another since then."
"Yes. A lich appears once every thousand years because there can only be one lich in existence at a time."
"And the thousand-year mark is coming up, Qairu. Are you prepared?" The eagerness in Syryn's voice was contagious.
The priest grinned and leaned forward to rest his chin languidly on a palm. "If I didn't know better, I might suspect you were encouraging me."
"And If I were being honest, I'd confess that I am most certainly encouraging you."
