The Accidental Archmage: Book Eight (Where Titans Walk)

Home > Fantasy > The Accidental Archmage: Book Eight (Where Titans Walk) > Page 4
The Accidental Archmage: Book Eight (Where Titans Walk) Page 4

by Edmund A. M. Batara


  “Well, Archmage, how may I be of service?” asked Thyma as she sat beside the mage. “And move aside, you’re hogging all the shade.”

  The mage carefully considered the course he wanted the discussion to take. Right now, there were plenty of baffling mysteries Tartarus had to offer. Still, Tyler had to focus on the nature of the energies of the place. It was the key to understanding the eldritch bizarreness around them. More importantly, he wanted information on whether Elder energy had the same strength and intensity in this dimension.

  “What makes Tartarus different, Thyma? I sense there’s a subtle difference in the magic here. It seemed to be composed of two parts – an overlay of ordinary arcane power over a different one,” inquired the mage. “Even Gullin felt it.”

  Thyma began by explaining that each dimension had a particular pattern of power. The same was true for this realm, except it’s a much smaller reality than Adar. For some reason, it bonded with the Greek pantheon. But its connection to Hades also enabled a substantial volume of energy to pass into Tartarus from the Second World in the same way magic flowed into it from the First World during ancient times. The greater mass of incoming energy flooded the dark realm. It rendered the magic of Tartarus a resource only a few could utilize.

  “So, it’s similar to pouring water into a bottle with some oil in it, and the latter remained at the bottom,” pondered Tyler.

  “Exactly. But in the end, it’s just energy, although the structure might be different. Here, ordinary magical energy is in a concentrated form, much thinner in substance, but still similar to what’s found on both the First and Second Worlds,” affirmed the Oracle. “For a young mage, you seem to be more capable of understanding such concepts than older magoi.”

  “You mean I could use this realm’s latent energy?” answered the mage in a hopeful tone.

  “I don’t see why not. Ancient Hellas knew about it. Greek deities and heroes could enter it. It’s a place where human souls are punished and tormented. I could say this world was a reality-in-waiting, made manifest by humanity’s desires and fears. But you have to learn how to find and use its potential first.”

  “Guys, now you know what’s the new addition to our priorities,” Tyler instructed his guides immediately.

  ***

  Night came and embraced everything in its frigid embrace. Tyler promptly felt the touted coldness that desert nights bring with the waning of the sun. Yet he couldn’t sleep. Wrapping his cloak about him, he sat by the fire. Kobu woke up, sat up, but kept a reasonable distance from the mage. Waving a hello at Astrid who had the guard shift, the mage warmed himself for a while and looked up at the sky. He was amazed to see sparkles of light above them. The mage knew they weren’t stars. Tartarus was, following what he had been told, a pocket dimension. For stars to exist here would mean a universe was out there. He doubted if that was the case. Yet Tyler continued to wonder what were those few flickering dots of light.

  He had already given instructions to his guides to start creating Elder energy, even when he was awake. His pain receptors were to be dulled, except when conflict threatened. Tyler knew the risk he was taking. Hal had told him that extended use of the process would cause irreversible damage to his brain and nerve centers. Ordinary flesh could be healed. Mended. The brain and nerves were apparently beyond the reach of the ability of his guides. They could treat the external injury, but the internal damage was not manageable. Those areas of the human body, according to the pair, not only handled memory and the thinking process but was also crucial to an individual’s magical identity. Treating what was under the surface was tampering with a mortal’s individuality and ability to wield magic. All the mage conceded to that dangerous likelihood was for the guides to pace the pace of the conversion.

  But the Tartarus he had seen bode ill for all of them if he couldn’t generate energy vastly stronger than what was present in the dimension. Yet he grimly reflected that if the magic of the domain happened to be utterly unlike that of Earth or Adar, they wouldn’t have stood a chance. Even against a puppet like Pasiphae. As he stared morosely at the campfire’s dancing flames, the mage suddenly became aware of a presence seated beside him. It carried with it the numbing chill of a biting polar wind, removing any warmth exuded by their small source of heat. The enigmatic being also strongly exuded the stale aura of dusty, long-forgotten, empty graves. Cloaked in a dark robe, a black, wooden staff lay across its lap.

  Tyler’s eyes quickly took in the rest of their bivouac and saw that everything stopped in time. Astrid was caught in mid-stride as she patrolled their perimeter. Tellingly, the flames from their campfire weren’t moving. Then the uncanny visitor removed his hood, revealing the face of a bearded man with Mediterranean features. Except for the ashy tone of his skin and the black orbs he had for eyes, the rest looked normal enough.

  “Khaire, Archmage. You’re a long way from home,” said the mysterious entity evenly.

  “Khaire, but I don’t believe we’ve met, and I hope you mean well,” said Tyler with a slight bow. Though shocked at the sudden intrusion and the effect of the visitor on his surroundings, the mage immediately thought that anybody who could stop time warranted a polite greeting, especially when it said hello first.

  Tyler looked at the visitor who had a knowing smile on his face. The mage already began to have a suspicion on who it was, but believed it wouldn’t be polite to point it out. He was, after all, in its world.

  “You do know me,” said the visitor finally. “And I know who you are.”

  “I have an idea, but I hate to be mistaken and insult you instead,” replied Tyler courteously.

  “My, my. Quite the polite one. Almost all who come here are angry at their fate, ridiculously beg for a chance of location, or are outright hostile. That is, until the Punishments come forth,” commented the being nonchalantly. “I am Thanatos. Let’s get names out of the way first. I believe you are familiar with my nature.”

  Death. I am talking with the Greek manifestation of death. He looks friendly enough, though, observed the mage. But he couldn’t stop an involuntary shiver course a wave of coldness through his body.

  “I am pleased to make your acquaintance, though not in your professional capacity, I guess,” smiled Tyler. However, he could still feel his goosebumps.

  Thanatos laughed. Long and hard. Tyler began to wonder what was so funny about what he said. It was mirth in a normal voice, almost human, if not for the faint unearthly echo which accompanied the hilarity. It was with a grin that he finally looked at the mage.

  “I missed that. But I am pressed for time. Let me explain. I am also trapped here,” said the deity.

  Death trapped? The ridiculous notion churned its rudderless course through the mage’s mind.

  Even as Tyler tried to get his thoughts back on track, the next words of the being barely registered in his mind. It appeared that Thanatos was given the realm of Tartarus by Hades as a fief. The loss of so many deities and spirits had forced the hand of the ruler of the Greek underworld. It was an acceptable arrangement before, considering that Thanatos had a lot of spirits under his rule whose sole purpose was to gather the dead who believed in the Grecian pantheon.

  Tartarus was still under the power of Hades, and all the deity of death had to do was oversee the small details. Since he was already intimately involved with the demise of most of those who were sentenced to the inner netherworld, the position was perfect for Thanatos. It also elevated his rank in the pantheon and raised his prestige and reputation. Among mortals, the knowledge of Death governing feared Tartarus added to the mystique of the dreaded domain. Unfortunately, the rise of the rogue Titans significantly disrupted the normal state of things. The deity of death explained that according to the ancients, Tartarus was said to be born out of Khaos, or the primordial emptiness. It was a quiescent being, similar to a slumbering mass of power, rather than an entity with substance or shape. But its might was formidable and its mind unfathomable. Thanatos didn’t know h
ow Hades was able to control it, but once the connection with Hades was cut, the mighty being stirred. The deity suspected that it was already conscious even before the imprisoned Titans made their move. Thanatos emphasized that he wouldn’t be surprised if Tartarus had something to do with their escape and rise.

  “Huh? What could possibly wake such a being?” asked the puzzled mage.

  “Let’s admit it. Our pantheon is a shadow of its former self. It had lost a lot of power. The Divine Wars, the loss of believers, and a lot of unfortunate circumstances all contributed to the decline,” said Thanatos wryly. “I don’t have any qualms about discussing this with you, but the belief which sustained us hasn’t grown. If not for the demise of other gods, the entire assembly of Greek deities and related beings would have found themselves fighting over scraps. Now, I find myself angry at the antics of Ares and other gods who encourage war among the inhabitants of Hellas. As if we have an unlimited number of worshipers. Good thing you removed that buffoon.”

  “You heard about that?” asked Tyler. However, his mind was also focused on the suspicion of Thanatos that Tartarus might have something to do with the present crisis.

  The damned thing was probably bored after such a long time, Tyler concluded.

  “I have my ways,” replied the deity.

  “And the dead in the Greek lands above?” asked the mage. He was puzzled about that issue, what with Thanatos saying he was trapped in Tartarus. The last time Tyler looked, it wasn’t as if Hellas was overcome with the walking dead. Except for that Skaney invasion, but that was because of intentional dark magic.

  “I did say I have my servants. They still go to Hades despite the conflict now waging above. Souls don’t worry about such trivial matters,” replied the deity with a knowing, faint smile.

  “What do you want of me? I do have to rescue my wife. That’s the reason why I am here in the first place,” asked the mage.

  “I know. But you would never reach the stronghold of those you seek without my help. You’ve barely made any progress, and Tartarus knows you’re here. If not for the disturbance at the Gates, you’d have its full attention,” said Thanatos firmly.

  “You think the invaders would be able to break through?” asked Tyler immediately.

  “Only if he or it lets them through. It might amuse him to see them fighting against the Titans within him.”

  Within him? The thought crashed through Tyler’s brain. We’re within that entity’s mind? And I might be right about its boredom? Fuck him.

  ***

  Thanatos wanted the mage to re-open the connection between Tartarus and Hades. Once that was done, Hades the deity would be able to pacify the power that was the Grecian abyss, and then re-establish control. The god of death believed that forcing the Titans to expend power would weaken their stranglehold on the bond which links the two realms.

  “They’re fighting at the Gates now. Wouldn’t that be enough?” asked Tyler.

  “Those are their followers, with a captain or two. We need Iapetus and his immediate entourage to use up what power they have within themselves. The power they wield is not of Tartarus. It is Titan in origin, but I still haven’t discovered the source. I am but an Olympian, and our forefathers hid a lot of knowledge from us.”

  “How about you? Can’t you deal with them?” pressed the mage. Only one situation came to mind if he was going to get the Titans to use up their power in a way that would exceed its rate of replenishment, and he didn’t like it.

  “These are beings far older than me, and I have my hands full trying to control Tartarus, the son of Khaos. You don’t want him to be fully awake and moving. I could only depart from my vigil in those rare moments when other matters grab its attention or when it goes back to sleep for a while. Believe me, it’s a tiring and dangerous task. It only tolerates my presence because of my nature and some degree of familiarity,” explained Thanatos with a tinge of weariness.

  Extremely uneasy about what the deity asked, the mortal mage firmly voiced his reservations about fighting the Titans in the way Thanatos wanted. It’s a death wish, Tyler insisted. There was simply no way of getting their opponents to empty themselves of power. The deity grinned.

  “I do know something that you don’t. The rogues cannot fully replenish themselves from the magical energy here, and their expenditure of power won’t be replaced that quickly. Whatever reserves they had hidden away isn’t enough for all of them. It took them millennia to regain some measure of their original power, and it would again take a long time to replenish even a small portion of what they would lose in a battle,” explained the robed figure. Smugly, the mage noticed.

  Tyler thought about what the deity said. Actually, he didn’t have any choice about battling the Titans. Deep inside him, he knew that was going to happen. The only question was who would be on the other side. Adding to such consideration was the observation of Thanatos that they won’t be able to reach where Eira was held without his help. Given what they had experienced, the mage had a sinking feeling that the entity was right.

  “We’ll try. That’s all I could promise,” said Tyler.

  “Good enough for me,” replied Thanatos. “You do enjoy a reputation for being just and honorable among several pantheons. Here, take this.”

  It was a small lamp within which glowed a blue light.

  “It drives away the waves of confusion that twist the reality in this domain. You’ll pleasantly find that we’re just beside a road which leads to where you want to go. Just go straight and don’t take any of the routes diverging from it. Your destination is a stronghold, and what fortress doesn’t have roads leading to it?” remarked the deity.

  Tyler took the artifact, scrutinizing it. It was a beautiful work of art and appeared to be made of fine bronze decorated with engraved scenes. Lined with gold, semi-precious stones formed intricate designs on its surface.

  “Food and water, you’ll find along the road. There’s a forest several miles ahead. Your companions may safely hunt there. I’ll make sure the shift in terrain does not occur in that location while your company is around,” added Thanatos.

  “Thanks. We do need water and provisions,” said the mage. That was a much-welcomed reprieve.

  “I’ll try to find the opportunity to revisit you. But before I go, two things I have to tell you. You might find your lost companion somewhere down the road, unless his present crowd drive him away or make him mad. Madder, I believe. Though I doubt if anything could drive that one out of his wits. I believe he hasn’t got any,” said Thanatos dryly. “And the second could complicate matters for us. One of your comrades holds the essence of this domain’s sister. They are of opposite natures, and I am not that ancient or knowledgeable enough to foresee what would happen if one becomes aware of the other.”

  Shit. He’s talking about Thyma, thought the mage.

  ***

  Using the light of Thanatos, the pace of the company picked up. Even if its apparent range was limited to a radius of several yards, it helped them avoid being lost in the shifting temporal and spatial waves that seemed to be the hallmark of Tartarus. Tyler knew why, but the knowledge that an aspect of Chaos in its primordial form underpinned the reality of the domain seemed information best kept to himself. He doubted if the god of death would appreciate his babbling about it. Still, the actions of the god reflected well on the competence of the deity as a principal trustee of Hades. Tyler doubted if Hades knew the current dilemma of Thanatos. The god of death was himself trapped, and the deity believed it was only his relationship with the domain itself which saved him from the lethal attentions of the erstwhile prisoners of the realm of the utterly damned. The link between Hades the Underworld and Tartarus the Abyss had been severed, and the mage saw the visit of the Greek personification of Death as a request for help. At least, Thanatos was also willing to help as much as he could in return.

  The mage didn’t have an issue with the plan of the deity. Achieving it was the problem. Once the spells seal
ing off Tartarus had been weakened, and assuming the Greek pantheon had regained control of their underworld, it might result in a showdown between Hades, the deity, and the formerly restrained ancient entity. In that situation, both Tyler and Thanatos would be relegated to the sidelines.

  To both our immense relief, though Tyler. Tangling with an aspect of Chaos isn’t on my to-do list. Even fucking Death personified would love to be just an observer in such a conflict.

  Chapter Four

  Mad Arguments

  As they proceeded along their dusty way, Thyma voiced the company’s relief at being on a proper road, even one so rudimentary. Climbing up and down sandy and rocky terrain was exhausting, admitted Tyndur, who added that the lack of beasts, creatures, or deities to hack was also frustrating. Tyler remained silent. He was concerned about the effect of the energy of Thanatos on his wards. Being near the deity of death for some time meant residual magic would have probably seeped into the world within his staff. The stave’s guardian, Birki, had reassured him that the energy of Thanatos was the same as that found on Adar. He shouldn’t be worried, but death was death. The guardian did tell him that he was more concerned about keeping out energy from Tartarus. That didn’t reassure Tyler at all.

 

‹ Prev