Overworld (Dragon Mage Saga Book 1): A fantasy post-apocalyptic story

by Rohan M Vider

  “Right,” I said, stepping forward again.

  Behind me, Tara beckoned a spearman from the lines. In response to her summons, a large red-haired man jogged towards us. It was the lieutenant, John.

  The big man clamped a hand on my shoulder and squeezed. “Good job, fish,” he said.

  “Thanks,” I said, drawing to a stop.

  “Keep going, Jamie,” Tara said. “I just need a few words with John here. I’ll catch up.”

  With a shrug, I did as she asked, surveying the spear wall as I went. Thousands of murluks were still on the field, the closest about a hundred yards away. All along the centre and left, the creatures pressed hard against the human lines. The commander, I saw, had been forced to fully commit her reserves. She and her guards had also joined the line.

  The battle was by no means won yet.

  I shifted my attention to the right. Here and there, gaps dotted the line, but by and large, the northern flank remained whole and unengaged.

  Why haven’t they been redeployed to strengthen the centre? I wondered. My gaze slid to the whispering pair behind me. Was Tara giving John new orders?

  Just then, the murluks attacking the centre noticed our approach. “Tara,” I called out in warning.

  She glanced up and, after a last hurried exchange with John, rushed to my side. “Ready, Jamie?” she asked.

  I looked at the two dozen murluks closing rapidly on us. “I am,” I said. “These I can handle, but if more of them attack—”

  “Don’t worry,” Tara assured me. “I have a plan. Help is on its way.”

  I glanced at her quizzically, but had no time to question her as the murluks surged into range. Raising my hands, I sent dragonfire into the nearest murluk. I made no effort to kill the creatures though, and instead turned off the flames after two seconds.

  It was enough.

  At the appearance of the scorching fire, the murluks broke off their attack and dashed for the river, many of them still aflame as they submerged themselves.

  Though, even the water failed to douse the flames.

  I shifted uneasily as I watched the murluks thrash in the river. Will the flames burn out eventually? I wondered. Or will the creatures be eaten alive by it?

  I shuddered, a sick feeling in my stomach. It was not the sort of death I would wish upon anyone.

  Leaving the dying murluks to their fate, I tore my gaze away from the sight and continued my advance. After another few dozen yards, and a second burst of flare, I sent even more of the creatures fleeing.

  By this time, the commander and her captains, realising what I was about, adapted their tactics and the rhythm of the battle changed.

  The spearmen, given fresh orders and renewed hope, waited in anticipation of my approach. When I neared, they used the chaos I caused to inflict as much damage as they could on the fleeing murluks. Some even went so far as to launch their spears at the retreating creatures. Behind me the north flank curled round, and followed in my wake, ready to provide support.

  The tide of the battle had finally turned, and it seemed only a matter of time before the murluks were routed completely. But just as our advance reached the line’s centre, my stamina ran out.

  “Tara,” I gasped, hands on knees, “I’m out of mana.” Her reply when it came back a moment later caught me by surprise.

  “One moment, Jamie.”

  I frowned. Now what did she mean by that? Turning around, I saw her signal to one of the men behind us. In response, the soldier lifted the makeshift flag he carried and waved it wildly. My frown deepened. What was going on?

  A moment later, my magesight was nearly blinded as a rippling mass of spirit erupted outwards from the rear of the human lines and spilled over the surrounding spearmen, including myself.

  You have been blessed by rejuvenation. Your health, stamina, and mana have been fully restored.

  Shocked, I unbent from my hunched-over posture. My body thrummed with new energy. I felt revitalised. My aches had vanished and I brimmed with renewed vigour.

  And it was not just me. All along the river shore, the human soldiers bounced on their feet as their own tiredness was banished.

  Amazing, I thought. Blinking my eyes to clear my magesight of the blinding afterglow, I traced the spirit weaves back to their source—and was unsurprised to find they originated from the old lady.

  I swung around to stare at Tara.

  “Now what do you think of that buff?” she asked, eyes twinkling.

  “How is that not magic?” I murmured.

  She tilted her head to the side. “Marcus calls it sorcery. Magic of the spirit, or some such.” She scratched her head. “But he also said it isn’t true magic, whatever that means.” Tara shrugged. “Regardless, the commander’s rejuvenation spell has saved us more times than I care to admit.”

  I nodded slowly. There was no doubt the spell was incredible. It certainly explained why the commander had chosen to enter Overworld in her old skin.

  “Sorcery,” I mused, thinking on my own trait-given Techniques. I recalled coming across mention of the subject in the wiki. Sorcery was not considered magic or a Discipline. Consequentially, I hadn’t taken the time to study up on it.

  Now I wish I had.

  Putting together what I had seen in my magesight and what Tara had just told me, I realised my own Techniques, invincible and mimic, were also sorcery.

  It was clear that sorcery was powerful. Perhaps even more so than dragon magic. Could I learn the rejuvenation spell? I wondered. Or other sorcery Techniques?

  I shook my head. It was a matter that demanded further consideration, but now was not the time. I turned back to face the murluks. I had another task to see to.

  Casting flare once more, I set to work.

  ✽✽✽

  You have gained in experience and are now a: level 12, Trainee.

  Your spellpower has increased to: level 7.

  Heaving a deep breath, I dismissed the Trials alerts. The battle was finally over. With both myself and the spearmen rejuvenated by the commander, it had not taken us long to rout the murluks.

  I glanced up at the sky. The sun had barely moved position since Tara and I had arrived on the river shore. It’s barely been an hour, I thought, yet it had felt much longer. Like days, really. And while my reserves of stamina and mana were healthy, I still felt bone-weary.

  How many did I kill today?

  I brushed away the errant thought. It did not bear looking upon too closely. The murluks are our foes, I told myself. Their deaths were necessary.

  A hand clamped down on my back. “Nice work, Jamie,” Tara said. “Magic is an even more potent weapon than I suspected. With a dozen more like you, we could likely vanquish the murluks once and for all.”

  I offered her a quick—if somewhat forced—smile before changing the topic. “Do you know where the healers’ tents are? I am sure the medics can use my help.”

  “Admirable, but not necessary,” Tara said, shaking her head. “Nic and the others will manage. Besides, there aren’t likely to be very many injured right now. The commander’s ability would have restored all but the dead. Come,” she said, tugging at me, “we should go report. The old lady is sure to want to see you.”

  I didn’t fully agree with Tara’s reasoning, but I allowed myself to be led away. Swinging sharply left, Tara headed back towards the lines of spearmen, who were still standing in formation in case the murluks returned. The men were jubilant and chanting the commander’s name.

  From what I gathered, today’s victory was one of the quickest in the Outpost’s short history. As we waded through the spearmen’s ranks, I jerked my head as I heard my own name called.

  I was surprised. It seemed that my own role in the battle hadn’t gone unnoticed by the men. But it wasn’t for accolades that I had done what I had, and despite whatever role I played in today’s victory, the true architect behind the Outpost’s survival was undoubte
dly the commander. It was her plans, her leadership, and her inspiration that had allowed humanity to establish a toehold in this Overworld location. My own part was small by comparison.

  The commander was still with the reserves, overseeing the battle’s aftermath. At our approach, she held out her hands in welcome. “Jamie,” she said, her hands trembling slightly, “that was well done. Thank you.”

  Taken aback at the sight of Jolin, I was left momentarily speechless. The commander today was a far cry from the one I had met yesterday. Weariness clung to her frame, and it looked like only Petrov, on whom she leaned heavily, was keeping her upright. In my magesight—which I had kept open—her spirit hung in tatters. Her battle castings had claimed a heavy toll, and today there was no disguising Jolin’s age. She looks ancient.

  But despite the commander’s appearance, her eyes shone with fierce determination, and her expression was filled with gratitude. She genuinely cares for her people, I thought. She sacrifices so much for them.

  I inclined my head. “Just doing my part, ma’am,” I replied.

  She studied my bowed head for a moment. “It is more than that,” she said gently. “My men may accord today’s victory to me, but I know better. What you’ve done here, I will not forget. It’s given us the respite we so desperately need. And now,” she breathed, “we get on with the business of building the settlement.”

  I looked up at her. “You don’t think the murluks will attack again, then?”

  She waved her hand dismissively. “They might, but after today the course of any future contest is certain.” She paused. “Assuming you are staying, of course. You are not leaving us yet, I hope?”

  “Not until the settlement is founded,” I confirmed, “and the walls built.”

  She studied my face for a second longer. Satisfied with what she saw there, she said solemnly, “Thank you, Jamie. I—”

  The commander broke off as Captain Marcus waved for her attention. “I am sorry, Jamie, other matters demand my attention,” Jolin said. “We will pick this up later. I have called a conference for this afternoon to decide the settlement’s future. You must join us.” She glanced behind me. “Tara, make sure he is there.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Tara replied.

  And with that, we were dismissed.

  Chapter 23

  390 days until the Arkon Shield falls

  After the battle, Tara and I were left with little to do. My conversation with the old lady had been so brief, I hadn’t had a chance to question her about her sorcery or dungeons, or even about her intentions regarding the settlement.

  What now? I wondered, chewing at my lip. “Let’s go find the medics,” I said eventually.

  Tara rolled her eyes, but she didn’t object. She led me through the ranks of soldiers, many of whom called out in greeting or nodded respectfully as I passed by. I chuckled, amused by how quickly their attitude towards me had changed.

  “What’s so funny?” Tara asked.

  “Just yesterday,” I said, gesturing with my chin at the men, “they were laughing at the crippled boy being beaten by the big bad captain, yet today they applaud.”

  Tara stopped and swung about to face me. None of the shared amusement I’d expected to see on her face was present. “You do them a disservice, Jamie,” she said, her tone serious. “They jeered at you yesterday, true. But it was not for your crippled foot they mocked you. It was themselves they ridiculed, or rather the memory of themselves that had experienced the same drubbing you got at my hands.”

  Tara held my gaze, making sure I understood what she was saying. “You may not have noticed it, but by yesterday evening you had already earned their respect. None of them expected a new fish to last that long.” She threw me a hard look. “Much less a crippled one.”

  I lowered my eyes, accepting Tara’s rebuke. Her words shamed me. “I’m sorry,” I said quietly. “Sometimes I am too cynical.”

  Tara laughed. “And perhaps a touch unforgiving.”

  “That too,” I said, smiling with her.

  We fell into a companionable silence for the rest of the way along the river shore. Scaling the upper bank, I saw that three large tents had been pitched next to the training grounds. As we approached closer, a surprised Nicholas turned to greet us. “Tara, Jamie, what are you two doing here? Not injured, I hope?”

  “Nothing of the sort, Nic,” Tara said. She pointed in my direction. “You’ve seen what he can do?”

  “Indeed,” said Nicholas, nodding at me. “And thank you, by the way. Your efforts have made my job much easier today.”

  “He can heal too,” said Tara. “That’s why we are here.”

  Nicholas’ gazed locked onto mine. “Magical healing?” he asked eagerly.

  I nodded. “I have a life magic spell called lay hands. Do you need me to do anything?”

  Nicholas opened his mouth. Paused. Then closed it again. He sighed. “On most other days the healing tents would be swarming with those in need of care, and I would have given anything for a mage’s aid. But not today. The commander’s casting has seen to the injured already.”

  Nicholas’ expression turned wistful, seeming to regret the missed opportunity to witness healing magic at work. Over the medic’s shoulder I caught Tara’s I-told-you-so look. Ignoring her, I addressed Nicholas. “The commander’s spell healed all the soldiers’ injuries?”

  The medic nodded.

  Even with Nicholas’ confirmation, I still found it hard to believe. To restore all your allies to full health in a single spellcast… it was an extraordinary bit of sorcery. I frowned as another thought occurred to me. “She doesn’t use it every day though, does she? Why?”

  The medic’s eyes flicked briefly to Tara before answering. “I wish that she could,” he said. “But from what I understand it will be days before she can use rejuvenation again.”

  I nodded in understanding. From my own experience, I already knew invincible used nearly the entirety of my spirit to cast. Its long recharge time was, in fact, the time needed for my spirit to replenish itself before being used again as a shield. And from what Nicholas said, it seemed that rejuvenation had an even longer recast time. So sorcery—as powerful as it is—is not without its own limitations.

  “It was generous of you to offer your aid though,” Nicholas said, interrupting my musings. “I hope I can I call on you when the need arises?”

  “Of course, Doc,” I replied absently.

  “Thank you, Jamie,” he said. “Now I must go. Duty calls.” Nicholas clasped my arm in farewell and rushed off.

  “Well, where to now?” Tara asked me once we were alone again.

  I was wondering the same thing. I rubbed my face in thought. “The temple,” I answered at last. “Then how about we go hunting? It’s about time I saw more of what lies beyond the settlement.”

  ✽✽✽

  Tara, much to my surprise, readily agreed.

  I had expected her to be fiercely opposed to the notion of leaving the Outpost, so I had all my arguments well in hand. Her easy capitulation left me slightly perplexed.

  “Right, we’re here,” Tara said as we stopped at the entrance of the temple. “You go in and do what you have to while I see to our preparations.”

  “Preparations?” I asked, confused.

  Tara waved aside my question. “Don’t worry about it. If I am not back by the time you’re done, wait here. Don’t you go wandering without me, understand?”

  I nodded agreeably and Tara hurried away. What is she up to? I wondered as I watched her dash off. Shrugging away the mystery—Tara would do what she wanted—I swung around and limped up the steps to the temple.

  ✽✽✽

  You have entered Wyrm Island.

  “What? You’re back?” asked Aurora. “Already?”

  I turned around to face the purple woman. She hovered in the air, with her face only inches from my own and her wings fluttering. She scowled at me.


  I opened my mouth to reply, but before I could Aurora spoke again. “Don’t you know I have better things to do than pander to your needs?”

  I didn’t know that, actually. But I wasn’t going to tell her that. What does Aurora do between my temple visits? I wondered suddenly. For that matter, did the purple woman even exist outside the temple? Was she more than just a construct of the Trials? Her words and manner certainly suggested it.

  Stepping back, I bowed, my face a mask of contrition. “Apologies, Aurora,” I murmured. “I will endeavour to bother you as little as possible in future.”

  My manner did little to mollify the purple woman. “What do you want?” she asked brusquely.

  Straightening from my bow, I said, “I’m here to acquire knowledge and enhance my Attributes.”

  “I know that,” she retorted. “Which ones?”

  I decided not to try my guide’s patience further and got straight to the point. “Please advance my dragon magic, life magic, constitution, vigour, and channelling to twelve.”

  I had only gained three levels since my last visit, and while I appeared to be accumulating a tidy sum of Marks and Tokens, I was not prepared to expand my repertoire of Disciplines just yet. Changes made in the temple were irreversible, and I could not afford to choose wrong.

  With that in mind, I had decided only to improve my Attributes and Disciplines that had reached Trainee rank and were essential for spellcasting.

  “Done,” said Aurora with a wave of her arm. “You have ninety-three Tokens and twenty Marks remaining. What else?”

  “That’s it,” I replied.

  Aurora’s wings slowed to a stop and she dropped to the ground. “‘That’s it,’” she repeated. Her glare intensified. “You mean to tell me,” she said, sounding out the words carefully, “you bothered my rest for only these paltry changes?”

  I winced. Time to beat a retreat. “Let me not keep you further, then,” I said, swinging around hastily. “Bye, Aurora,” I called over my shoulder as I limped back to the gate.

  The answering silence was deafening.