The Accidental Archmage: Book Eight (Where Titans Walk)

by Edmund A. M. Batara

  ***

  “Oh, you’re awake. Good. I was beginning to think you’d be asleep for a long while. Mortals tend to do that after a traumatic experience. But unfortunately, there’s nothing here to while away my time. Your personal magical realm is as empty as your… imagination,” a girl’s voice spoke out from behind him.

  Tyler whirled to face the speaker. It was a girl of about nine to ten years of age, also dressed in Earth clothes – jeans and a loose, yellow t-shirt. She had black hair, quite pretty with sharp lines to her perfect features remarkably bereft of youthful rotundity. But her voice was young, amused, and pleasant to the ears.

  But the notably light gray eyes betrayed her real age. They were ancient eyes, full of wisdom, sadness, and pity. Tyler felt a flash of fear upon seeing such emotions etched on her face. But as quickly as he noted it, the mage shoved it to the back of his mind. He was in a peculiar situation, after all. The final touch was her bare feet. They didn’t touch the ground.

  “Before I ask who you are and where I am, answer me this – am I dead?” asked Tyler nervously. The answer to that question would settle his unraveling nerves. Things were becoming too odd, too fast.

  “No, silly. You know that rhymes! Silly Tyler. I like it,” beamed the strange girl.

  “Well, I don’t. It sounds like an insult,” replied Tyler. He still couldn’t decide whether he’d act and talk as if he was talking to a child or to one who felt ancient to his senses.

  “Fine. I’ll only use it when it’s only the two of us,” came the pouting reply.

  How the answer was said further confused the mage. It was what a normal, intelligent child would say, and the expression added to the impression. Tyler grew more bewildered.

  “Our secret,” added the strange girl. The mage couldn’t think of her as an entity. A child with magical powers, maybe. But not as a creature. The simulacrum, except for the eyes and the airborne feet, was too perfect.

  “Now my next question, who are you? And, where are we?” asked the mage, mentally shaking off the numerous questions all clamoring for answers in his brain.

  “That’s two questions, silly,” laughed his visitor.

  Her laughter was pure amusement, without malice or insult, and Tyler couldn’t help but give a wry smile. Then he sensed it. A feeling of calm and serenity that the presence of the girl imposed upon the confusing surroundings. At that moment, the mage knew she wasn’t a threat.

  “Sorry, my mistake,” Tyler grinned back. “Though I’d really be happy if you’d answer my questions. I have to admit I am very confused right now. Not to mention this headache plaguing me. It feels like numerous tiny demons are playing their miniature drums on my brain.”

  “Oh, I didn’t know you were suffering. Here, let me touch your forehead. I can’t do anything unless contact is made. After all, it’s your own world,” replied the girl with obvious concern as she immediately moved closer, a finger outstretched.

  My world? What does that even mean? thought Tyler, more perplexed than before.

  Chapter Sixteen

  A Prison of the Mind

  Even as the tip of the girl’s finger lightly touched his forehead, Tyler’s mind was already furiously processing what he had seen and heard. He knew his headache would be gone. But the mage hastened to craft his queries as rationally as he could and consciously held at bay the strangeness of his surroundings. His environment was a distraction, and the answers demanded by his mind were apt to give a more painful migraine if they went unanswered.

  “Thank you. But I believe we’ve met before,” he ventured as the girl stepped back. Tyler’s headache was, as expected, gone.

  “And here I am, thinking that your mind had been addled by the shock,” the youthful form laughed with amusement. Then the being changed to the familiar avatar Tyler had encountered, “and the awakening of that sudden, bad temper seemed to have lessened. Your abominable trait of coping with fear and the unknown. Understandable, but irrationally irritating and dangerous.”

  “You’re the Gaia of Adar, though I did have my suspicions at the start,” he hazarded. She’s right. My anger issues seemed to have been reduced to a manageable level. Though it got out of hand this time. With disastrous results.

  “My apologies, my mage. But you were in such a terrible condition that I believed a non-threatening entry would cushion the shock and avoid that distasteful reaction. A mental diversion, in your terms,” smiled the woman. “Would you prefer the girl talking to you? Would it put your mind at ease?”

  “No. That form would be better for my state of mind. I would be subconsciously expecting youthful comments. What you would be saying as a young girl would be mentally jarring. Not to mention the incongruous and disturbing image of a young girl talking like a High Mage,” he grinned. Though the avatar was right. The unexpected form diverted his attention long enough for him to calm down and return to a semblance of rational thinking and temperament.

  “Gaia. A name given to one of the fractured essences of my sister. Mortal belief is powerful, young man. So strong that it could bend reality to its desires. Unfortunately, among the mortal races in your world, humans have the strongest imaginations. Witness the innumerable gods of your pantheons. Whatever nature my sister had at the beginning of time is now scattered to the winds, divided among so many beliefs,” said the woman sadly. “Not so on Adar. We didn’t have humans here and the story of this world was sung differently. But who knows? If not for the Great Migration, I would have suffered the same fate.”

  Tyler knew he was not being blamed for the unintended errors of his race. The tone of the girl was far from accusatory. One would have thought she was but reading from a book on myths and legends. But the mage keenly felt the weight of the sins of his kind.

  “I am not blaming you and your race, young mage,” said the girl who apparently noticed Tyler’s downcast, thoughtful mien. “There’s a reason why Fate does not allow the past to be revisited. Even by magic. But enough of such things. You have weighty problems on those shoulders.”

  Yeah, tell me about it. Wagon loads of the stuff, the mage thought despondently.

  The girl quickly moved forward and struck him in the arm. Tyler was surprised by the abrupt reaction. The punch didn’t hurt, but his shock more than made up for the lack of pain. He stared at the now fuming face.

  “Enough of that, youngling. I am sorely tempted to call you a clod, but it wouldn’t serve any purpose. Now listen and listen well.”

  A harsh, scolding tone accompanied the words. But the actions and statements of the avatar doused his self-pity. Tyler smiled ironically. He knew he deserved the treatment.

  Then he asked where he was. Tyler had an idea, but he’d rather have it confirmed. He was in his own mind, said the girl. It was as the mage suspected. But the next statement shocked him

  “But you’re trapped in such a prison. My connection to you would not have sufficed for my appearance if not for your creature’s single-minded focus on finding the Void,” explained the visitor. “His mere presence creates such a turbulent disturbance in the ether that even my power finds it difficult to make use of our bond.”

  “Bond?” asked Tyler, now surprised. Another one?

  Even in such straits, the day was becoming a series of revelations. The mage knew he enjoyed some degree of trust with the magical representation of Adar. Still, he didn’t realize that a bond had been created. For some reason, he felt violated. Again. Deities and powerful beings seemed to have the common trait of doing what they want to do with mortals – with or without permission, or even knowledge, of the individual concerned.

  Haven’t these guys heard of privacy? Or even due process? Or that a man’s mind and will make up the walls of his soul? thought the mage crossly. Yet he was careful not to let his feelings show. It wasn’t the best time to argue with an ally.

  But the grim description of being trapped, added to the featureless and depressing space he could observe, dismayed him further. His body was s
till alive, yet in a coma. The destructive power which escaped couldn’t destroy it or Tyler’s mind. They were its anchors to existence. To his dumbstruck ears, the spirit added he was lucky the deities haven’t figured that out yet.

  Shit. Odin had the wrong conclusion, thought the shocked mage. The entire assembly of gods could have done away with me at any time without fear of any world-ending repercussions.

  “See, you have to be a power by yourself and not owe your existence to mere tolerance,” came the stern, rebuking judgment.

  ***

  “Time for me to go back then?” asked Tyler, his mind on Eira and the companions he left behind. And he did have a berserk elemental force to rein in and a vindictive ancient monster to defeat. Yet how to do those things was something still up in the air.

  “I wish it were that simple, young mage,” replied the avatar to the mage’s startled surprise.

  The woman quickly explained that something in Tyler prevented her from grabbing him out of his mental prison. Waking was not that simple. A disturbing, yet extremely potent confluence of energies barred her from anything beyond communication. If the mage were awake and in control of himself, she probably could interact with his abilities, even add to them, but not in his current state.

  “I am a fucking vegetable?” exclaimed Tyler, who then realized what he just said. “Sorry for the language.”

  “One of your common epithets. Though I couldn’t see the relation between the culmination of a mating ritual and its use in befuddling or extreme situations,” laughed the woman. “But there’s some good news.”

  The avatar clarified that while inside his mental prison, time effectively stopped for the mage. Outside his mind, reality was in limbo. Nothing progressed and nothing happened. A wave of the woman’s hand slowly peeled away a small circle above Tyler’s barren surroundings. It revealed the unmoving spectacle of Eira and the companions around his prone body. Another gesture and the image disappeared.

  “Unfortunately, the situation does have an undesirable side,” commented the avatar.

  “There always is,” muttered the mage.

  Time outside him stopped, but inside the conceptual reality of his mind, it continued to march on. He would age and eventually die, and such a terrifying development would be reflected in his physical body. When that happened, those in the real world would suddenly find themselves looking at a very dead old man.

  No shit, thought Tyler, stunned beyond any ability to react.

  The mage slumped on the ground. It was a grotesque, staggering situation. He took some moments to gather his thoughts before asking how such a circumstance could exist. But Tyler was already thinking about the possible implications of such a decidedly perilous situation. They were numerous, yet not all bad. The outside world was in stasis which meant the devastation he feared was held in abeyance. The massive conflict between what he released and the Void was postponed. He had time to think and try to make sense of the abilities at his fingertips. But everything would continue once he died, and he didn’t fancy waiting too long. Greeting Eira as an elderly man wasn’t on his mind.

  “How could that be? I mean, getting old here while the outside world doesn’t change?” he asked finally.

  “One’s mortal shell is but a reflection of the mind,” said the being simply.

  “What if I convince myself not to age?” ventured the mage.

  “That would an ideal answer to your dilemma. Honing your skills in here while the world is caught in stasis. Assuming you don’t age at all. Unfortunately, you are not remotely near that level of skill, young mage. On the other hand, if you did have such expertise, you wouldn’t even be trapped in your mind,” smiled the woman.

  “What do I do now?” asked Tyler, glancing at the desolateness around them. It reflected what he felt.

  “Find a way to go back. But the only way for you to do so is a level of magical ability which would enable you to escape back to reality,” answered the avatar.

  “And if I don’t succeed?” continued the mage, knowing what the answer was, yet forced to reiterate the issue.

  “A death of the mind, the death of the body. Nothing was ever so true,” advised the woman gloomily. “Yet, I must take my leave of you. There are things to prepare and matters of import to examine.”

  “Wait. You could move? Why don’t you do something about what’s out there?” called out Tyler.

  “The world is my ward. Not the beings who live in it, the ones who play their little games across its vast expanse, or those who have the narrow-mindedness to believe they are all there is. Warnings I do give. But even those I rarely give out. For unlike my sister, I am whole and infinitely more powerful. If ever your… creature becomes a threat to the existence of the world itself, then I may intervene,” explained the avatar coldly.

  “Really?” The trite comment just came out before mortified Tyler could think.

  The entity just smiled, acknowledging the sarcasm.

  “I have my own burdens to bear, Archmage. And so do you. But if I may give some advice – fear is what makes men wicked. Fear of the unknown, the loss of material things or beloved ones, the absence of physical comforts, and even the mysterious fate that awaits mortals in whatever afterlife they have chosen. If you’re not careful, wicked will become you,” warned the avatar as she faded away.

  I am trapped and she goes Zen on me, thought Tyler with some irritation. Then he understood what the woman meant. Even anger is but a manifestation of fear. If he was to judge, then his temper had already sent him halfway into such malice.

  ***

  It has almost been three months, by Tyler’s count. Slashes grouped by tens on an isolated part of the ground made it possible for him to keep track of time. Fortunately, there were day and night cycles. But they only made changes in the illumination. The temperature remained constant, and neither hunger nor thirst visited him. And the mage was bored to death.

  He stared at the marks made on the ground. The endless monotony of living in such a dismal place was only broken by waking up and making a small line in the dirt to count another day. Even the novelty of having the opportunity to have daily exercises using the various spells he had learned worn off after a week. Tyler prayed he wouldn’t eventually go mad.

  Constant scrutiny revealed the complete absence of his guides. Wherever he was, it was a place the consciousness of his AIs couldn’t reach. Eventually, he gave up, cursing Freud when he decided to condemn his magical exercises as futile. Tyler had already resorted to talking out loud, not bothering with kept thoughts. The land reverberated with colorful language on where Freud could put his id, ego, and super-ego. The mage didn’t even, even his wildest dreams, that such psychobabble would have a decidedly physical side to it. Magic made it possible, but he didn’t give a shit.

  He had tried walking in a particular direction and didn’t end up anywhere. It was still the same endless, monotonous landscape. A boulder or even a crack in the dry ground would have been welcome at some point, but none appeared. All Tyler found out was that after a certain distance, roughly a half-day’s walk, he’d end up where he started. After that disappointing discovery, the mage went back to practicing and exploring his skills. At least, it helped him cope with boredom.

  Torn and churned scenery inevitably resulted from his exercises, yet when a new day dawned, everything would be back to what it was before. It was Sisyphean enough to drive a man nuts. But he found that his spells were becoming stronger and his response time quicker. Yet despite that, Tyler felt something was lacking. After a particularly violent practice session, he sat down to think.

  His mind went back to all that he had been told about his abilities and potentials. Tyler disregarded what the deities said. They could only see him as the prime embodiment of the mortal use of magic. Then he suddenly realized that all he had been doing was just that – manifesting the knowledge learned by following the way of traditional magic. He had forgotten what Hal had told him about being enamor
ed about that route. He didn’t intentionally choose that path, but was blinded by circumstances. That route would be easy for one such as Tyler, but his way was by another, more difficult path. Its guideposts were the Elder tablets, artifacts which seem to hide from him.

  He took several deep breaths and then mentally kicked himself several times. It was a grievous oversight, but given the pace of his experiences, Tyler rationalized it was inevitable. He knew he had to shift the focus of his magical learning, yet the mage had no idea how. As far as the mage knew, nobody in Adar’s history had access to three different kinds of magical energy. There was simply no precedent. He even doubted if the Elder tablets had anticipated that its student would have access to Adar’s magical power, with a dash of Chaos. The young man realized it was back to experimentation.