The Accidental Archmage - Book Five

by Edmund A. M. Batara

  “Tell them it’s magical exhaustion. They’ll understand that part,” he remembered telling Habrok and Tyndur. There were questions in the eyes of his companions, but Tyler resolved to settle those issues at another time.

  Even after the bath, involuntary shudders and goosebumps shot through his body. The mage knew it was but his imagination, yet he could still feel the grossly repugnant rain, especially that part during the hell-wrought shower when he sensed something crawling down his back. Tyler considered himself lucky he didn’t puke right on the battlefield. The idea of pieces of maggot-ridden and decaying bodies of dead people on his skin, sliding in through the openings in his armor, was a dreadful and repulsive experience.

  Tyler closed his eyes, thankful for the opportunity to get his thoughts in order. Too many startling revelations, he admitted to himself. Not least were the abilities of the children in the world within the staff.

  He reminded himself to ask Birki to balance out Apulli’s training. It was impressive, he admitted, but the power to destroy needed to be tempered. Otherwise, there was a high chance he’d end up with a dark deity on his hands.

  Wilan was restrained by millennia of painful experiences and disappointments fortunately leading the entity down a path of reflection and light. Tyler didn’t have that luxury to give to Apulli. The mage wanted the boy to focus more on the ability to create. It was more challenging and would prove more beneficial in the long term. It was easy to tear down something or blow it up, but infinitely more difficult to come up with an original and innovative creation to solve a specific problem.

  If destruction were the perfect solution, then most of this world would have been in ruins when I arrived, mused the mage.

  Then there was Loki. Tyler guessed the trickster had something to do with the plague, despite the deity’s statements to the contrary. He didn’t know how the bastard had found such a complicated spell, or how he did it, but the mage held the trickster responsible for the terrible blight. So far, he couldn’t think of anybody else – the events in the lands of fire and ice only reinforced his suspicions. Even Hela had problems with rebelling dead in her dark realm, so that ruled her out for the time being. But one thing was clear; the problem appeared to be centered in Skaney and somehow involved the Norse pantheon.

  But he wasn’t sure about the ambush involving Asem – it could have been part of the opening moves of the war in the southwestern part of Adar. The priestess was the deity Thaut’s daughter after all, and she was a formidable power in her own right. As a realm, Kemet had its own share of enemies, and it stood to reason that a major war would open with something to provoke Kemet’s pantheon. Yet there were also too many gaps in that puzzle.

  Too many unknowns, assessed the mage. He didn’t discard the possibility that Loki might be involved somehow in the ambush, but Tyler needed to find Loki’s motivation—the trigger—behind the attack, if indeed the Norse god was involved. Loki’s involvement would definitely leave traces to be discovered, leading to a break in the oath he gave to the mage.

  The consequences would be severe – the magic itself would punish the deity and Tyler would be free to act against Loki. Yet, it was a binding arrangement the trickster went to great lengths to secure, again a contradiction giving Tyler pause in that line of reflection. Loki may be crazy, unhinged, or whatever description fitted his madcap personality, but stupid he certainly is not.

  But one headache at a time, decided the mage. And the most pressing one is right on my doorstep.

  Tyler thought that the undead host near Hedmark could act now and advance on the fortress, depending on how its leader interpreted the failure to eliminate the dwarves, or they could continue as they were doing – gathering strength and waiting for the arrival of the much larger host gathered near the Barrens. There wasn’t word on how Freyr fared in the promised diversion. Despite the price of such involvement by the deity, the mage knew he desperately needed the Barrens army out of the coming battle.

  The battle for Hedmark would have but a slim chance of going in our favor, if and only if the Barrens army is not involved, he reflected gloomily. If the two forces joined, then he doubted if the tsunami of undead could be held back, even with the help of the hammerless Thor. To make matters worse, the peculiar energy of the animating spell would render the mages of the fortress incapacitated most of the time. What they encountered on the field was but a small part of the main horde, and yet the strange aura nearly killed the accompanying mages of the rescuing host. The question of the bizarre magical energy was a crucial problem that had to be resolved. There was no telling what the effect of a much higher concentration of such power would do to him.

  “Guys? Anything about that weird energy feedback?” he asked the guides.

  “Yes, sire,” replied X. “A fortunate result of your unhappy experience was the availability of the energy in such a concentrated form, enabling us to make use of large samples to test our conclusions. The spell had an ingenious magical structure, and whoever crafted it intended to disguise its origin.”

  “X. The short version, please,” commented the mage. There was no escaping the theoretical mindset of the two when a subject fascinated them. Like now.

  “The energy used is a natural one. But the spell itself is actually composed of two conjurations. The first is a fairly common example intended to keep a spell or spells together and amplify the effect. It is similar to a protective and carrying spell meant for complex magical patterns. But the second, the main spell, is an ancient one which once existed and was known only during a time of war between gods and men on one side, and Titans on the other,” explained X.

  “Titans. Isn’t that a Greek myth? I mean, what has that got to do with Skaney?” It was puzzling, yet far-reaching in implication.

  “It is indeed of ancient Greek origin, magic of a kind not practiced anymore on the First World after the defeat of the Titans at the hands of Zeus and his army. By its very nature, it is magical knowledge unfamiliar to the Norse pantheon and possibly even to the Greeks, considering that each side used dissimilar lore during the Titan Wars, or the Titanomachy,” added Hal.

  “But it should be recognizable or familiar to those of the Greek pantheon who fought in that conflict, Zeus for one,” said Tyler, trying to understand how the spell escaped the scrutiny of the northern pantheons.

  “Therein lies the ingenuity of the spell. Wrapped in a common shielding spell, the ancient knowledge became difficult to discern, even to one acquainted with it, as the two came from different systems of magic. Add to that the fact it was cast through a dimensional medium, confusing matters further,” explained X.

  “I guess the spell used in Hellas used the reverse formula – Norse ancient magic held together by a Greek spell,” ventured the mage.

  The only deity I can think of right now is Loki again. He’s been all over Adar, according to him. But how the hell was the bastard able to get knowledge about the ancient forms of magic in Norse, Greek, Egyptian, and Sumerian mythology? And how could he come up with such a complicated spell?

  Tyler considered the situation carefully. But the mage found that certain facts go against his previous assessment. The trickster might be infernally devious, but that complicated spell required a different degree of specialization. The lore for accessing dimensions that could distort only the outward form of a spell would be an even more esoteric field of study. Finally, the possible motivation of the suspected culprit still eluded him.

  “Right, sire. The common factor is the use of the dimensional veneer to disguise an already hard-to-recognize spell. Whoever thought of the pattern of the final conjuration definitely knew First World magic in its ancient forms across different pantheons. Definitely either a mad genius or brilliant lunatic,” observed Hal.

  “You do know the descriptions you mentioned are just the same,” reproached Tyler.

  “There’s a difference. In the first example, madness came first, it just so happened that extreme intelligence was pr
esent. In second, precocity was an existing condition unfortunately distorted by insanity,” insisted the guide.

  “Now you’re splitting hairs and giving me a migraine, Hal. Let’s deal with the important question first; now we know what the spell is, how are we going to unravel it?”

  “You’re not going to like the answer, sire,” piped up X.

  ***

  Tyler was unbelievably weary and nauseous. He sure hoped it was all worth it.

  The solution recommended by his guides involved Elder energy which would tear apart any spell made from natural magical power. But there was no such energy available. Not even the tiniest bit of it. The mage had expended whatever shred of the unique energy the two AIs had recovered.

  X recommended trying the suggestion of G, the Elder intelligence back in the land of the deity Sarva. The mind of the mage immediately recoiled from the proposal. What Tyler could distinctly remember was the excruciating comment when he asked about the pain involved. Coursing massive amounts of energy through his bones was a traumatizing experience for the mage. He knew forcibly compressing magic down through the bones and into the marrow, then releasing it for collection by Hal and X, would be worse. Add to such pain the uncertainty involved in obtaining the desired result, a caution G had helpfully pointed out.

  After several minutes of silence from Tyler when the idea was broached, X was forced to ask again the question of whether the mage would be willing to try G’s suggestion.

  “My apologies, X. I was a bit lost recollecting my unforgettable experience the last time I tried part of what you suggested,” replied Tyler.

  “We do have a solution for the extreme pain. You’d feel some discomfort, but that’s all. While Hal manages the process, I’ll numb the appropriate nerve endings and look after whatever tissue or organ damage which could ensue.”

  Tissue damage? ORGAN DAMAGE? The casual comment made the mage recoil.

  “Good God, X! Spare me the details. I know you’re going to be technical about it. I appreciate that. You want me to be informed about what’s going to happen. But unfortunately, I wouldn’t understand most of what the medical lecture would be all about. Just tell me it’s safe,” exclaimed Tyler.

  “It should be safe. But your body will feel the consequences of the process. There’s no avoiding it. Your body is an interconnected and very complicated set of systems. Anything which deals with one of its structures is bound to affect the rest in one way or the other. But what we propose is to do the procedure with your right arm first. If successful, then we could continue with the left to give the other arm time to recuperate,” explained X.

  “You guys frightened me there for a while. I thought you would suggest a full-body process,” said the relieved mage.

  “Of course not, sire. That would entail a high risk of killing you,” answered X.

  Sonuvabitch.

  ***

  Good news and bad news resulted from the slapdash experiment. It took but thirty minutes, according to X. Any longer and his body would start to have long-term effects – severe involuntary spasms of arm muscles, for example. The good news was he was still alive, and the test had no lasting impact on his body, though the slight dizziness and nausea the mage now suffered begged to disagree. The bad news was the Elder energy that was produced. It was not what they expected, rather something akin to it.

  “What do you mean by akin to Elder energy?” cried the subject of the experimental venture. All that fucking worry and discomfort, and we come up with a half-baked version?

  “It was an experiment, sire. Though we knew what the general process was, the finer details of the method are still not available to us,” replied X defensively.

  Tyler calmed down. X was right. The entire venture was an exercise in desperation.

  “So, what do we have?” he asked.

  “It is Elder energy intertwined with natural magical power. The strands are still separate but bonded in a way we are still trying to understand. Not much from one session, enough for a minor spell. It will have the power of an Elder spell, but the level of efficacy is unknown,” described X.

  It was evident from the tone of the guide that they were mystified by the strange result.

  “What do you suggest? Though that ‘enough for a minor spell’ comment does give me an idea of the answer,” remarked the mage with resignation.

  “At least three more sessions, sire. That number would hopefully be adequate to obtain the needed amount and quite safe for you.”

  “Quite safe. Not really a guarantee, but get on with it,” he replied stoically.

  The end result was an extremely weakened mage, though Tyler was thankful he wasn’t delirious. The last session gave rise to grunts and mumbled curses on his part. Despite X’s preparations, the continued uncomfortable, painful at times, sensations running throughout his body physically and mentally wore him down. Even if the experiment focused on his arms, the mage could feel the debilitating effect on the rest of his body.

  At the sounds the mage was making, Kobu was concerned enough to ask him if everything was all right. Tyler lied in reply.

  But no, he wasn’t all right, the thought immediately arose after he gave Kobu the misleading answer.

  “Do we have enough?” he finally asked.

  “We hope so, sire. Your body can’t handle any more energy conversions for now,” replied Hal.

  “Good. I think I have reached my limit for the day too. Let me get some rest.”

  Though X was careful in the periodic releases of its control of Tyler’s nerve endings, sudden agonizing pinpricks accompanied each stage of switching such processes back to his body, a situation resulting in a sleepless night on top of his suffering. Only the ominous specter of a vast ocean of undead closing in on the fortress kept him from regretting the entire experience.

  Damn. I really should find the proper way of doing this, the mantra kept on repeating itself in his thoughts every time a cloud of pain arose from his arms.

  ***

  “Sire, sire.”

  Kobu’s voice penetrated the hazy fog of his sleep-deprived brain. Tyler opened his eyes. The mage realized he’d fallen asleep around dawn, and a severe headache greeted him. He tried to focus on the standing figure beside the bed, but it took several seconds before the image became clearer.

  “Good morning, Kobu. What is it?”

  “I apologize for disturbing you, sire. But a mounted company of the High King’s personal guard has arrived. Heavily armored and armed. The leader is demanding your presence.”

  Demanding?

  The extreme discomfort of the weary mage was quickly replaced by a growing irritation.

  “Demanding?” he voiced what he thought he’d heard, making sure his ears got it right.

  “Yes, sire. Demanding,” grinned the exile.

  An abrupt double dose of healing spells gave the greatly annoyed mage enough energy to stand up and furiously storm out of the room. Kobu followed. As Tyler swiftly walked through the hallways, full of people going about the morning’s preparations, he was so focused on meeting the early, though annoying guests, that he didn’t notice his way was being cleared. People were being forced back, pressed against the walls and ceiling of the corridor, or thrown aside. The mage didn’t notice the chaos he was creating and leaving behind. Kobu did tell him afterward that he saw a gray eddy, streaked with red flashes, around the mage as he strode toward the door of the keep.

  The closed doors slammed open as he walked out. In front of the keep was a force of dismounted warriors, defensively arrayed in a shield wall. Beside the keep’s entrance were Habrok, his bow in hand, and Tyndur whose weapon was already covered with flames. Surprisingly, a number of dwarves were grouped in battle formation facing the shield wall, the svartalfar led by Dvalin on the right flank and the dvergar on the left, with Otr in front twirling a warhammer. The jarl and a large number of his warriors were off to the left side, several meters from Otr’s band.

  Tyler took t
he scenic view in as he walked forward. A voice at the back of his mind was shouting at him that the situation was dangerously tense.

  Shut the fuck up, the mage inwardly shouted down the errant voice.

  He looked at Tyndur. The einherjar closed the few meters separating them.

  “Men of the hird of the High King. They have just arrived and the leader, that snotnose over there, wanted to go to your room and drag you back to Hirdburg. Of course, we dissuaded him, and I personally reminded them all of the error of their arrogant ways. The dwarves already up and awake overheard the exhibition of phonological skills and quickly set up their formations on the sides of the keep. The jarl couldn’t interfere as it involved the High King’s order, though he told me he couldn’t care less if we wiped our asses with these naughty boys,” the einherjar quickly updated the mage.

  “This stupid strutting of their High King on top of a looming siege?” asked Tyler with cold fury.

  “Mr. Snotnose did mention something about Hirdburg and Ahrensburg, the region where the city was located, being under threat and swarming with undead. So, the minute the High King heard about a High Mage in Hedmark, he sent these men. Quite the leader. He couldn’t care less about the possibility of Hedmark being at the forefront of the real invasion. But that’s politicians for you,” said Tyndur.

  “Only a company? This is insulting,” said Tyler. “Anyway, go to the dwarves and tell them not to get involved. We can’t afford a war between Skaney and the combined might of the two dwarven races on top of everything. I’ll take care of this matter.”