The Accidental Archmage: Book Eight (Where Titans Walk)

Home > Fantasy > The Accidental Archmage: Book Eight (Where Titans Walk) > Page 17
The Accidental Archmage: Book Eight (Where Titans Walk) Page 17

by Edmund A. M. Batara

The group on the hillside immediately quickly withdrew from their location, even Se-Osiris. As they reached the rear of the bluff, a momentary glance backward showed that a massive lance of the same energy had erupted from where the tent was and reached for the sky. Tyler looked at his companions. Se-Osiris had his back turned while the two women’s eyes were staring at the ground. The ghost and the Oracle were both visibly shaking. Astrid was pale, and for the first time, the mortal mage found fear etched on her features.

  “What the hell is that?” the mortal mage whispered urgently. He knew fear had also taken hold of his senses, but until he knew what was going on, Tyler’s dread was neither here nor there. It took a few moments before he got an answer.

  “Now that it is here, we could not mention its name,” said Thyma softly. “I have heard of its story, but I never expected its presence on this world.”

  A look at the ghostly mage presented a Se-Osiris nodding in agreement. Despite the terror even a dead man’s soul could obviously suffer, the phantasm quickly got it under control. Astrid didn’t say anything, but the mage expected it. The Valkyrie was not as learned in magical lore as Thyma and the ghost of a mage. Fearful as he was, Tyler was frustrated. The terror of an inexplicable emptiness was crawling through him. Still, until he could put a name to the horror down on the plain, the mage’s rising irritation and anger held the dread at bay. He knew monsters of the worst kind were in this world, but Tyler preferred them to have names. In frustration, he turned to his guides. Hopefully, they’ll have a name for it.

  “Not sure, sire,” replied Hal. “But if we may speculate, it’s an ancient being predating the Nordic pantheon. If we’re right, then it’s part of the mythology of this land. Though given the presence of magic on Adar, mythology is more like history.”

  “But what is it?” repeated the mage. As usual, the guide went about its answer in a roundabout way. Not a good sign, Tyler had to admit to himself. Hal only became that way when the news was bad.

  “Ginnungagap, the Ancient Void, or what remained of it after the realms of fire and ice were created,” X stepped in. “It existed long before the forefathers of Odin came into being. But for it to be brought into the physical plane only means a powerful hand is involved. No magical skill or spell on Adar could make possible what just happened.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Ancient Void

  As they were talking, a green flare burst in the sky, catching their attention. The group moved back to the edge of the bluff, taking care to shield their eyes from the noiseless yet raging massive tower of eldritch light. The schiltron and the dwarves were slowly moving back. Fighting was still ongoing as most attackers hadn’t noticed what happened since their backs were to the arcane phenomenon. But Tyler saw the contingent from Ravndal, consisting of a little more than a thousand men, stood unfought. The cavalry charge had ignored them and now their formation was facing the left flank of the heavily engaged defenders. More telling was they had changed their banner to that of the High King.

  “I knew it,” came Astrid’s gritted answer.

  Tyler had a dim suspicion that it would happen after hearing the Valkyrie’s comment about the close economic ties between Ravndal and Hirdburg. Still, it looked like the dwarves also had the same distrust. A small force was left behind from the outermost column and was now facing the Ravndal warriors. They were reinforced by the mounted company of the jarls which had now positioned itself to the flank of the Ravndal shield wall.

  The mage didn’t know when the High King’s flag was raised, yet surprisingly the turncoats didn’t attack. He assumed the green burst was the signal for them to assault and contribute to the attempt to crush the schiltron. Armored warriors were at a premium at the close fighting which presently characterized the battle. They could quickly come at the circle at its weak rear link. Tyler doubted if the defenders had reserves to plug that gap if ever that happened. Asag could lay waste to a dangerous, fresh formation but at the expense of other contested areas.

  Then a man came forward from the Ravndal ranks carrying a white flag. A warrior met him from the dwarven ranks, and after a brief huddle, the human turned to his comrades and raised a hand. The flag of the High King disappeared and was swiftly replaced by the banner of Ravndal. Tyler could only shake his head at the scene.

  “Well, that was quick,” the Valkyrie observed pithily, her voice heavy with sarcasm.

  “Time to go. Our location is becoming untenable, as a general in my past would say. I could see the spires of Sigtuna in the distance. Inside or outside the walls?” asked Se-Osiris in a rush.

  “Outside. Those men on the field, attackers and defenders alike, are now retreating. I’d like to meet the jarls and our companions as soon as possible,” said Tyler, noting that despite the bizarre column of miasma and the terrifying aura of emptiness it gave out, the warriors were withdrawing in good order. Mostly.

  “I wonder how those bastards got their hands on such an abysmally profane spell. Or artifact, if that’s what they’re using,” mused the young man grimly as Se-Osiris stood up and began his preparations. Tyler noticed that unlike deities or even the teleportation spell he was using, whatever conjuration the dead mage was going to use wasn’t instantaneous.

  “Somebody or something gave it to them. No mortal mage, even an Archmage, could raise such an ancient terror from the past. Come to think of it, you could include deities in that listing,” said Se-Osiris as he impatiently gestured for the four to move closer to each other. When the companions had gathered together, with Tyler tightly holding his wife in his arms, the apparition faced them and drew a circle in the air. A bright, nebulous ring suddenly appeared around the four, marked by small white flames that danced around its circumference.

  “Not an instant spell, I see,” joked Tyler.

  “There are four of you, plus the insignificant weight of my poor self. The more individuals involved, the greater the power required. Unlike a god, mortals and even their souls are not of the magic which covers this world. So, aside from making sure that just the right amount of energy is fed into the spell, I have to ensure its accuracy. I wouldn’t hear the end of it in the afterlife if you end up embedded in the walls,” grinned Se-Osiris. Then he touched a finger to his mouth and raised it. Tyler stared at him disbelievingly.

  “Sorry about that. A habit from the younger years of my previous life. I don’t need it actually. Just checking the wind, it affects the amount of magical energy needed,” said the ghost sheepishly. Then he loudly clapped his hands together.

  “This part is showmanship!” he called out as the subjects of the spell disappeared.

  ***

  Tyler looked at the incoming stream of exhausted men, some wounded, from the battlefield. They were still some distance away, but now, fear clearly gave impetus to their pace. The ancient void still hasn’t arrived, though the mage could see flashes of lightning and other energy blasts directed at the column of light. Deities were clearly attacking the gate. Whether they were making a dent was another question.

  It didn’t hurt as much to look at it from far away, but even so, one couldn’t keep it in sight for long. A dangerously strange lethargy and loss of self seeped into the soul whenever an individual stared at it for some time. The mage wondered what it would do once it had fully manifested on Adar. Death and destruction would inevitably result, yet Tyler couldn’t help but speculate on its motivations. Surely, such an ancient being wouldn’t be solely driven by the pure desire to obliterate.

  The four had reappeared some distance from Sigtuna’s walls, facing the battle, and thankfully with intact limbs and other extremities. Families from outlying settlements were already streaming into the town, mixing with the more enterprising – faster – of the warriors involved in the battle.

  Those in town would be evacuating from the other side of the walls, concluded the mage. Only fools would stay long once they saw the towering dark pillar.

  A battle far from the walls wouldn’t be much of an
incentive to leave town. The inhabitants of Skaney were used to it. Jarls come and go. People were also confident that the mass extermination of a rival settlement’s populace was never practiced. Populating the vast region was already a concern. But unknown and unfamiliar dark magic? That’s a totally different matter. Magic doesn’t discriminate, and some disciplines of the art feed on mortal lives, blood, and bones. Anyone who lived on Adar knew that terminal fact.

  Se-Osiris had appeared beside them a few moments after they arrived. The dead mage immediately assured them that his presence wouldn’t be seen nor felt by mortals unless the apparition wanted them to see his ghostly, as he termed it, grandeur. Then the specter laughed, leading Tyler to wonder what was there to laugh about, considering their circumstances.

  “Oh, lighten up, Archmage. Mortal life is short anyway,” said the dead mage.

  “Easy for you to say. You’re already dead. Why is it taking so long to appear?” asked Tyler.

  “Long? A relative statement. For us, maybe. But for such a being, it could be a nearly instantaneous moment. Remember, it has no concept of time. Of death, yes. The rise and expansion of the realms of fire and ice taught it that peculiar little truth. What’s coming is an avatar, or what is left of its power. To be specific, whatever power it could project into this dimension,” explained Se-Osiris sagely.

  “What does it really want, and more importantly, how do we defeat it?” inquired the mortal mage immediately. At least, it wasn’t the entirety of the entity, only a manifestation of its power. But considering the reaction of Se-Osiris and Thyma, even that sample was dreadful news.

  “Want? We can’t even begin to fathom how it thinks. Living void. The phrase itself is a contradiction. It’s like saying a friendly camel, fragrant dung, humanitarian king, rich poverty, or a simple bureaucrat. Just think annihilation of everything, and that’s all you need to know,” replied the apparition.

  “We can’t defeat it? Destroy it?” exclaimed the appalled Tyler.

  “I didn’t say that,” remarked Se-Osiris with a raised eyebrow.

  The dead mage clarified that usually, beings can visit other dimensions in their own forms. Most planes are material in nature and accessible by magic. A visitor would only need the proper precautions to enable one to breathe or be protected from a hostile environment. But a void entering a physical dimension creates a paradox, and the weight of the contradiction would dissolve it if it remained in its natural form. There could be no comparison of strength between such an intruder and the inestimably massive natural forces existing in a material universe where nothing is absolutely empty. For such an avatar to enter Adar’s dimension, it had to adopt a physical or ethereal shell. It was also an incongruity, explained the ghostly mage, but magic was full of such bizarre inconsistencies.

  “Piercing that armor would probably do the trick, and we could let the universe do the killing. Maybe,” said Se-Osiris pensively. “That’s my opinion, though. I didn’t have the opportunity to have this kind of visitation before.”

  “You know, that makes sense. The only problem is getting close to that monster,” replied Tyler.

  “I never said it was going to be easy,” protested the dead mage.

  ***

  The warriors passing through the town gate had increased in number, and whole companies were now quick-marching through the stone archway. Yet many were still on the battlefield, steadily making their way to town. Tyler gave scant consideration to the retreating fighting men, women, and dwarves. He wanted to see the trio who joined the battle. The mage also knew the jarls and the dwarven lords would be the last to leave the blood-soaked plain and that put his idea of meeting them on hold.

  Then interested amusement flowed through the bond connecting him to the demon. Of all the possible reactions, it was the last he expected. Asag, the demon deity of rock, may be powerful, but the young mage assumed that the entity would be adversely affected by the magnitude of power now emanating from the colossal pillar of energy. Apparently, the demon wasn’t that impressed.

  Tyler didn’t know if it was Asag’s plain arrogance or moronic ignorance, but he needed them back with the company. Knowledge had to be shared and decisions had to be made. Yet the mass of withdrawing mortals made it impossible for the mage to find the trio. He did suspect they were still with the jarls. Focusing on the ethereal chain between them, Tyler tugged at the link, sending a call to the demon. It was but another experiment, yet it was all he had. At least it wouldn’t blow up in his face.

  As he waited, Tyler asked his guides to confirm what Se-Osiris said. It was a plausible answer, according to Hal. A reply to which X added the observation that it was the only explanation that made sense. Unfortunately for Tyler, setting his mind on such a path of deliberation resulted in ugly premises presenting themselves. The High King’s haughty ambition and ignorant arrogance, the impending defeat of his forces due to the involvement of the companions, and the resulting desperation that drove him to use whatever spell or artifact to invoke such a terrible entity all fused together to point a finger of blame at Tyler.

  Those were events that could be traced to his involvement, mused Tyler. Fuck. Did I make a monumental mess of things?

  A part of his mind vehemently protested. The High King was given the ability to summon Ginnungagap by entities unknown, long before Tyler got involved in the present battle. The rationale could have been the threat of Ymir or Sutr. It would have been easy for whoever convinced the High King to show proof of the jotunn lords’ plans. At that point, the dwarves and the dokkalfr were already fighting for their existence. They faced massive campaigns of conquest, not mere probing attacks such as what happened at Scarburg.

  Tyler himself knew that the two jotunn lords had begun a final campaign of extermination. Of course, it was highly probable that the crapshit that was Loki planted the diabolical idea in their minds, but that was neither here nor there. The Norse god of mischief’s sly maneuverings and convoluted schemes had resulted in an avalanche of unforeseen and mostly dangerous developments. Most of the consequences were beyond Loki’s control, though the resulting mayhem was still to his taste. The present situation was but one of them. The rise of Xipe Totec in the south was another.

  There are undoubtedly others yet unknown to me, reflected the mage, and somebody’s taking advantage of the situation to create more trouble.

  A sudden explosion jarred Tyler out of his mental meandering. It came from far away and harshly echoed through the mountains. But the blazing pillar didn’t show any change. He turned to the company in confusion.

  “I believe that was somewhere to the southwest. I suspect the High King’s stronghold is gone,” said Thyma calmly. “As a very knowledgeable magoi once said – meddle not with the affairs of gods, lest they meddle with your… innards. That Empedocles was a very practical mortal.”

  “I thought deities were not supposed to involve themselves in mortal wars?” replied the mortal mage.

  “Bringing the Ancient Void into this world just elevated the conflict into something much bigger. That made him and his fair game,” added Se-Osiris. “And this is now much bigger than a pantheon war. You’re sure you don’t want to go somewhere else? Like in a hurry?”

  “My men,” answered Tyler simply. Then he turned to Eira.

  “I’m sorry your return to the surface had to be in such circumstances. Believe me, there’s nothing more I would like than to be back in Fossegrim with no cares or worries. Even for a day, at least. “

  “I’m happy to have you by my side, husband. Yes, even in the face of that monstrosity. As long as I am with you, nothing daunts me,” smiled Eira.

  “Thanks,” said Tyler as he kissed his wife. There was nothing more to be said.

  ***

  The trio appeared shortly. Somehow, they were able to secure mounts though Asag was riding with Habrok. The ranger looked as if he spent a lot of time calming down his horse which seemed ready to bolt somewhere else at the slightest excuse. Tyler
concluded that the disguised demon really couldn’t conceal his true nature from animals.

  Kobu and Habrok were tired and looked the part. The exile’s dented armor was spattered with blood. He clearly didn’t limit himself to directing the defense.

  Yet the mage also considered that the deadly skills of the exile would have been needed frequently and, in many instances, essential for holding the line. Even easing some pressure on a hard-pressed section of the shield was necessary. Sometimes, a defending company required only a short breather to recover and get back to the business to killing. But above all, the active involvement of the trio would have raised morale immeasurably. That in itself was an incalculable contribution to the efforts of the beleaguered jarls.

  “My thanks,” Tyler said simply as the three rejoined them.

  Surprisingly, Asag’s robe looked immaculate as ever, and he still radiated that contagious, though reckless confidence. The demon looked over his battle companions and with a disapproving grunt, held out a hand in their direction. The young mage felt a minute burst of power which resulted in the ranger and the exile wearing clean and repaired armor. Tyler was amazed. Not at the spotless gear the two now sported, but at the fact that the demon was able to repair the draken armor of Habrok. From what he remembered, the late Rumpr mentioned that only the svartalfar smiths of old could fix any damage to the magical protection. The demon was indeed full of surprises, and the mage wished he knew about such an ability sooner.

 

‹ Prev