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

by Rohan M Vider

  Near simultaneously, the jaws of the two hounds clamped down onto my torso and legs. Agony rippled through me and I bit back a scream as one of the hounds buried its muzzle in my insides.

  Death loomed near, and the battle’s conclusion drew close. One way or the other, I realised the contest between the hounds and me would be decided in the next few moments. The time for conserving my mana and lifeblood had passed.

  In terrified fury, I cast flare.

  And not just from my hands, but everywhere. Empowered by the volatile mix of my panic and terror, waves of dragonfire rolled off me. I urged the flames onwards, fanning them hotter and hotter until I burned so brightly I could barely make out the hounds. Holding nothing back, I spent my lifeblood with no care for the cost.

  I either died now, or I won.

  Trial alerts popped into my vision, but I banished them almost as fast as they appeared and blindly grasped the hound on my chest.

  The beast writhed, desperate to escape. But I held on and didn’t let up. Either it died first or I did.

  Vaguely, I sensed the other hound blink away from the superheated flames pouring off my body. I let it go. There was nothing I could do to stop it anyway.

  In a few short seconds, the hound in my grasp burst into ash, and I found myself alone at the centre of a world turned white-gold.

  I was dizzy and my thoughts felt sluggish. In stunned shock, I stared at the flames dancing about me. They wreathed my form from head to foot, and moved in a manner both enticing and hypnotic.

  I knew I was dying. And I knew I should quench the fire. But staring at the beautiful flames, I couldn’t see to care.

  Why not let it all go? I wondered. This is a good a way to die as any. Why fight on?

  Unbeckoned, Mum’s dead, unseeing eyes formed in the flames and seemed to bore into my own.

  I blinked. My thoughts snapped into clarity. I couldn’t let go. Not yet. My fight was not nearly done.

  “Not like this,” I croaked. With a tortured gasp, I applied my will and quenched the outpouring of mana and lifeblood. The dancing flames simmered, then died, and the spectre of Mum faded.

  Thank you, Ma, I whispered in farewell before blacking out.

  ✽✽✽

  I woke up coughing blood and bile.

  My skin had been scorched clean, cleansed of everything by the dragonfire. Clothes, armour, hair, all of it had burnt away.

  My health was dangerously low. I barely clung to life. And everything hurt. God, does it hurt.

  Reality intruded and I recalled where I was. The hounds, I thought. Where are the hounds? I had only killed one. Where were the other two?

  Glancing upwards, I saw red tinged the sky. That meant I couldn’t have been out for long. The beasts could return any time. Move, Jamie. Heal yourself. Fear isn’t going to keep the wretched creatures away for long.

  I moved. With torturous slowness, I pushed myself into a sitting position and braced my back against a tree. Channelling mana, I cast lay hands.

  Almost immediately, I began to breathe easier. I cast the spell again, then twice more. Only when my health was fully restored did I turn my attention to the surroundings.

  To my surprise, I found I wasn’t alone.

  The hound that had skewered itself was still where I had last left it, and from its faintly moving chest, I realised it was still alive. I grabbed the second discarded staff and hauled myself to my feet.

  As I staggered closer to the creature, it stiffened, sensing my presence. But by now I was certain the hound was helpless, so I drew right up next to it without fear.

  The hound lifted its head and snarled in warning.

  “Well fought, mutt,” I whispered. Raising the sharpened staff high overhead, I drove it down into the pinned beast.

  You have gained in experience and are now a: level 20 Trainee.

  I collapsed to my knees next to the dead creature. While I regained my breath, I called up the Trials alerts from earlier in the battle.

  You have spellcrafted a: caster-only spell, from the Discipline of: dragon magic. The name assigned to this spell is: living torch. Living torch is a persistent spell that produces: three times more dragonfire than flare. Its casting time is: average and its rank is: common.

  You are the first player to have spellcrafted the dragon spell: living torch. For this achievement, you have been awarded: dragon lore and two Marks.

  Lore note: Living torch is a spell of last resort. It produces an uncontrollable inferno that invariably is only quenched when the caster’s lifeblood is spent. Across the ages, when faced by grave peril many a dragon—even elder ones—have chosen to immolate themselves through flames of a living torch rather than perish at their foe’s hands.

  “A spell of last resort,” I murmured. It had certainly been that. But despite me having crafted another spell, right then it was beyond me to feel much in the way of enthusiasm for my latest achievement. It was enough that I knew how I had managed to kill the hounds.

  I dismissed the messages and inspected myself. My stamina still hovered in the red, and my mana, too, was almost drained.

  What now? I wondered as I mustered the strength to regain my feet. I was lost in the forest, naked, without food or shelter, and night would fall soon.

  “Mage Jamie?”

  I looked over my shoulder. Standing a few feet away were a man and a woman. Hunters, by the look of the bows across their backs.

  Wide-eyed, they took in the scene.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” I said. “Now you find me?” I chuckled, though it was a broken sound that transformed into another hacking cough.

  I bent over, nearly overcome by the spate of coughing. Only my grip on the staff pinning the hound kept me from collapsing entirely. With nearly superhuman effort, I brought myself under control again.

  The two looked at me in confusion. “Are you alright, Jamie?” asked the women. She shifted nervously from foot to foot.

  But despite her concern, I noticed she didn’t come any closer. Well, I wouldn’t either if I found a strange man, naked, coughing blood, and kneeling over the corpse of a dead dog.

  “I’m fine,” I said, suppressing the renewed bout of hysterical laughter that threatened to overcome me. “Well, not quite. Can you help me up?”

  The two hurried forward and hauled me to my feet. The woman averted her gaze, and the man offered me his armour. I gratefully accepted it and dressed while the woman left to report back to their company. The other hunter, unarmed but dressed in his underclothes, kept me company. Once dressed, I slumped back down and closed my eyes, stealing what rest I could.

  “Here you go, sir,” said the hunter, offering me a piece of jerky.

  I laughed. “I’m no ‘sir.’ Call me Jamie, please.” I bit down on the jerky. It was heavenly.

  The hunter bent over the hounds, studying the corpses. Picking up something, he held it out to me. “Is this yours?”

  It was my knife. I must have mislaid it during the fight. “Thanks.”

  “Jamie?”

  I swung my head around towards the voice and saw Tara, accompanied by the female hunter and another man, who looked vaguely familiar.

  “Yeah it’s me,” I said with a smile that I am sure looked just ghastly. “Hard to recognise without any hair, right?” I ran my hand over my smooth scalp.

  “What happened?” asked Tara. She knelt down next to me, her face tight with concern while the man loomed over both of us.

  “They happened,” I said, gesturing towards the hounds. “Four of them ambushed me on my way here.”

  “But what are you doing here?” asked the man, frowning.

  I recognised his voice from the conference. It was Albert, the head logger. “I heard about the attack and came to help.”

  “Alone?” asked Tara, her brows furrowing.

  I nodded. “I know, I know. I should have brought an escort. It was foolish of me not to.”


  Tara’s lips thinned, but she didn’t say anything further. After rising to her feet again, she went to inspect the dead hound.

  Albert was still frowning. “The attack happened in the morning,” he said. “Why come now?”

  I chuckled. “I left the Outpost hours ago, following on the heels of the spearmen company sent to reinforce Tara’s guard.”

  Albert’s eyes widened. “You’ve been fighting these things the whole day?”

  I nodded. “It was not pleasant, let me tell you.”

  Tara rejoined the conversation. “There is only one body here.”

  “You won’t find the second, since it left behind only ash.” I thrust out my chin to the trees to our right. “The corpse of the third is somewhere that way. The last one got away, I’m afraid.”

  Tara gestured the two hunters in the direction I pointed and they set out to investigate. “So now we know where they went,” she murmured.

  I tilted my head and looked up at her curiously. “What do you mean?”

  Her gaze dropped to me. “The logging camp was attacked by six of these creatures in the morning. We lost ten men and women in the assault,” she said grimly. “But we managed to kill two. The other four ran off. We’ve been waiting for their next attack ever since.”

  “Which never came because you were holding them off all this time,” added Albert, his voice tinged with respect.

  I chewed over their words. So there had been six of the hounds. It was a good thing Tara’s people had managed to kill two of them. I shuddered to think how I would have fared against all six.

  “How did you manage to kill them?” I asked, puzzling over that curious detail. “Every time I managed to get close enough to flare into them, they teleported away.”

  “They can’t teleport when restrained,” Tara said. She shrugged. “We got lucky figuring that out, but once we did the hounds didn’t stick around. They fled. To ambush you it appears.”

  The two hunters returned. “We’ve found the body, Captain.”

  “Good,” Tara said. “Albert, have your people send over some sleds. We’ll load up the bodies and haul them back to camp.” Leaning down, she pulled me up. “Come on, Jamie, let’s get you back to camp.”

  Gratefully, I accepted her help. But once I regained my feet, Tara started to move off.

  “Tara, wait,” I began, grabbing hold of her arm before she could step away. “About this morning,” I whispered so that the others wouldn’t hear. “I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did.”

  Tara stilled for a moment before patting my arm and gently freeing herself. “We’ll talk it about later.”

  I looked at her uncertainly as she walked away. It was not perhaps the blanket forgiveness I’d hoped for, but it was more than I deserved. I could only pray I hadn’t destroyed our friendship altogether.

  Tearing my gaze from Tara’s departing figure, I turned to the logger. “Albert, would you do me a favour please?”

  “Of course,” he said.

  “Would you have your people gather some young trees for me, please?” I pointed out the two burnt staffs. “Saplings like those, only green and alive.”

  Even though he seemed perplexed by the request, the logger agreed. “Sure, Jamie.” Stepping closer, he clasped my hand. “Melissa tells me we have you to thank for our new tools?”

  I nodded.

  “That was good work,” Albert said. “You will do well to focus more of your talents that way. Rebuilding our civilization is what will save humanity.” He glanced at the dead hound. “Not battling creatures like that.” His lips turned down. “Leave that to the fighters.”

  I freed my hand and struggled not to roll my eyes at the logger. I didn’t agree with Albert, but I wasn’t about to get into an argument on the matter. With a wave of my arm, I bade him farewell.

  Then, following after Tara, I began the long trek back to the Outpost.

  Chapter 33

  388 days until the Arkon Shield falls

  All living things possess spirit. —Trials Infopedia.

  The loggers and their guard companies caught up with Tara and me soon after.

  It seemed that when the scouts had caught sight of the strange burning light through the trees, the loggers had already been heading back for the Outpost.

  The train of logs, hauled by men and sleds alone, moved slowly through the forest, making the trip back much longer than the one going out. I did not mind though. Weary as I was, the pace suited me just fine.

  Tara and I didn’t get a chance to talk. The captain spent most of her time scanning the surroundings for threat or barking orders to the soldiers under her command. Despite Tara’s concern though, we reached the Outpost without mishap.

  We rolled into the camp well after nightfall. The loggers had stayed out much longer than usual to meet their quota of felled timbers. And while the Outpost still remained short of the logs it needed for the palisade, Albert was satisfied with the progress they’d made today.

  The loggers’ new saws and axes had made their tree felling much easier, and Albert was convinced that his people would meet the commander’s deadline, if only marginally.

  When we got to camp, as much as I wanted to, I didn’t let myself fall straight into my pallet. My battle with the hounds had shone a glaring light on many of my deficiencies.

  I couldn’t afford to let myself be caught so unprepared in the future. With a sigh, I sank down and resumed my air magic training.

  An interminable time later, I reached my goal for the night.

  Your skill in air magic has advanced to: level 10 and reached: rank 2, Trainee.

  I smiled in satisfaction at the message. Right, that’s enough training.

  On that thought, I rested my head on my pillow and was dead to the world soon after.

  ✽✽✽

  I awoke late the next morning.

  When I finally managed to pry open my eyes, the sun was already high in the sky. Sitting up on my pallet, I saw that a fresh set of clothes and armour had been set aside for me along with some food.

  By now the murluk attack had either already happened, or they had failed to show up again, so there was little point in hurrying. I took my time with breakfast and savoured each morsel.

  When I left my tent, I found the camp was mostly deserted. Everyone else was already up and about their daily chores.

  What to do today, Jamie?

  Despite the successes of the last few days, I still had a long list of things to accomplish. I needed to check in on the guards at the river, visit the dragon temple, train my magic further, and find Tara. Then there was the palisade. To meet the deadline, the wall had to be completed by day’s end tomorrow.

  I chewed my lip, wondering where to begin.

  Priority one, I decided, would be to see how the builders were faring. With that in mind, I set off for the crafting yard.

  ✽✽✽

  The yard was buzzing with the sounds of industrious activity when I got there. Despite my newly shaven look—or because of it?—everyone seemed to recognise me. Friendly greetings and cheerful waves marked my passage through the area.

  Reaching the centre of the yard, I drew to a halt. Now that I was here, I was unsure where to begin looking for the builders.

  “Jamie!”

  I turned at the shout. “Melissa,” I greeted as the head blacksmith approached closer. “How are you?”

  “Much better now that my people are equipped with the tools of their trade. I didn’t get a chance to thank you for that the other day.”

  I waved off her words. “You, Anton, and Jeremy were as much responsible for our success as me,” I said. Before she could contradict me, I went on. “I am actually looking for Albert or Soren—the head builder.”

  Melissa smiled wryly at my change of topic. “You’re too late,” she said. “Both left the camp before dawn. Albert and his people are in the forest, and you will find Soren on the no
rth side of the encampment. The builders are working on that section of the wall today.”

  “Oh,” I said, disappointed. Though now that I thought of it, I realised I shouldn’t have expected to find the pair here. I had also hoped to speak to Tara that morning. But she was likely guarding the loggers again today. Perhaps I will see her tonight. “Do you know how the work on the palisade is going?”

  “Now that his builders have the logs they need, Soren foresees no problems in completing it in time.”

  “That’s great news,” I said, relieved. “Thanks for the feedback, Melissa. I just wanted to make sure everything was on track.”

  I began to turn away, but she stopped me. “Wait, I almost forgot. Albert’s people left something for you.”

  “They did?”

  “Yes,” she said, a frown marring her face. “It’s a handful of green sticks. I thought it was a mistake, but Albert insisted you wanted them.” She raised an eyebrow in question.

  “I did. I mean, I do,” I said with a pleased grin. “Can you show me where they are?”

  Melissa led me through the yard and to a large table filled with an assortment of items. On end of the table were the green sticks in question: three young saplings just as I had requested. Thank you, Albert.

  The saplings were each about two inches thick and between four and six feet in length. I cast analyse upon each in turn.

  The targets are a rowan, ash, and oak tree sapling. These items have no special properties.

  Melissa scratched her head. “I have no idea what you want with them, but they’re yours.”

  “Thank you,” I murmured. Laying my hand on the rowan sapling, I channelled mana through it. A second later, I had cause to regret my impulsive action as a Trials notice opened before me.

  A rowan tree sapling has died. Your lore skill is too low to attune this Focus.

  I frowned at the message. Outwardly the rowan’s sapling appearance had not changed, but inside it I could feel the spark of life that been present was now absent.

  Contrary to the Trials alert, I had not been attempting an attunement. It was idle curiosity sparked by my experience casting the fire ray spell that had caused me to channel mana through the sapling, no more. Yet, the Trials had interpreted my actions as an attempt at attunement.