The Accidental Archmage: Book One - Ragnarok Rising (MOBI EDITION)

by Edmund A. M. Batara

  He idly noted that the lake itself was odd, the blue of the water reaching up to the shore. Examining the phenomenon, he found that the water didn’t provide the usual visibility of the lake bed near the shoreline. It was deep blue through and through. There was no possibility of determining the depth of the water by sight alone. As he watched the water and the surrounding forest, he noticed his vision was unnaturally clear. Colors leaped from the grass and vegetation. It was like watching ultra-high definition scenes on television. He could also see for a great distance as the details of the nearest cliffs on the opposite shore were quite distinct. A good one to two miles in his estimation.

  “Definitely weird,” he thought, “but I am alive and unhurt. That’s what counts as of now.”

  As he walked along the bank trying to find a clear part of the water, he suddenly felt as if somebody was watching him. He stopped and looked around but the feeling disappeared as quickly as it came. Quickly walking backed to his campsite, he felt a bit apprehensive, the feeling of being watched making him edgy. He continued to the edge of the forest and dug a small hole. It was a bit difficult, with his hands and the small branches he could use. For his toilet needs, it would have to suffice. He placed some leaves beside the hole and a small rock on top. As organic toilet paper, it would have to do.

  His call of nature done, he sat beside the tent and looked at the lake again. The turmoil in his mind feeding his anxiety. The pain, numbness and the coldness he felt when he first woke up precluded the situation as being a dream or hallucination. The consistency and continuity of the experience added to his dismissal of the possibility that the entire situation is a delusion. His mind frantically ran across possible scenarios, his science fiction and fantasy bent adding to the mounting confusion.

  An RPG simulation? A god-like being summoning him? Mister Mxyzptlk? Is he a protagonist in somebody’s story? Magic? A break in time? Or a break in reality?

  He had read alleged accounts of people disappearing in front of everybody. His copious indulgence in science fiction and fantasy literature even treated him to storylines making use of such mystery occurrences.

  Going over the possibilities, he discounted the RPG, Mister Mxyzptlk and story protagonist explanations. He was not playing a video game when the event happened. He was running away from those meth heads. No game pop-ups. He had tried that approach.

  On the other hand, Superman is a mere creation of a writer’s imagination. From what he could remember, Mister Mxyzptlk’s home dimension didn’t look like this world. A god-like being? Well, nobody laid the welcome mat for him or showed up yet as is the norm for such stories. If such a being did show up, he would try his best not to punch while giving him or her or it a piece of his mind. That would be the practical limit of what he could do without totally pissing off such a presence. If such a being can transport him to this world, disintegrating his lanky frame would be the least of its capabilities if pushed too far. If it was a female, he hoped it would be the sexy, beautiful and almost naked version of the stories. Most of the stories have the trope. Even a succubus type would do, not the monstrous and tentacled versions. He couldn't take that. And edgy as he was, he doubted his mental constitution could take it.

  The protagonist angle would also be far-fetched. The vividness, strangeness, and completeness of this world would be beyond one’s creative imagination. It was too real and tactile to be born out of a person’s imagination. Magic then? Too random, he concluded. No reason for his being over here. Again, as with the god-like being theory, no welcome mat.

  A summoning? It should result in him appearing before the summoners or being given some shred of information about such summoning. He had no delusions about being a summoned hero or somebody so epic. A lanky young man like him, a heroic figure? Black hair, thinly muscled, an ordinary face, slightly taller than average height, no martial skillset? That’s a laugh. A break in time? The three moons clearly show he isn’t in Earth’s past, present or future. That left the break in reality theory.

  Occam’s Razor left that explanation. Unless he could come up with another one. With that current explanation in mind, he knew he could kiss goodbye his life as he knew it. He would never see Aunt Emily again, his few friends, his job, and everything he had the pleasure or displeasure to know. A FUBAR as the army or Marines or whatever would call it.

  He could again feel his anger rising up with a host of swearing bouncing through his head. A response to his conclusion, a dispassionate part of his mind told him. He was surprised at the mental dichotomy present in his consciousness. A part raging against his situation and another part coldly assessing his reactions. The latter then reminded him that he had been punching the grass with his right fist. Instantly, the pain in his right fist registered. Inwardly swearing, Tyler stopped beating the ground. His anger evaporated. His mind went back to practical mode and focused on what he had to do now, though a degree of fear hovered at the back of his mind.

  With no hope of going back, he thought about Aunt Emily, his job, his friends, his life. But his primary concern was for his Aunt. Is Aunt Emily safe? Would those bastards hurt her? He hoped Bernie and his shitheads will limit their search, and their attention, to him. Like they’re going to find him now. Aunt Emily was sure to go to the police when he does not show up. That in itself would be some protection for her. He’ll be docketed as a Missing Persons case. With so few officers assigned to similar numerous cases, he doubted they’ll search for him thoroughly. The police will probably send over an officer or two to do some investigative work. With police layoffs and underfunding, it will take time before some in-depth work is done. But Bernie and his shitheads will be under a lot of pressure to lie low or scatter when they hear about the investigation. His job and friends? There’s nothing he can do about his job and his friends. The law firm will be informed about his disappearance and will get a new employee. His friends will know about it when he doesn’t show up but they’ve got their own lives to live. He did hope Karl and Amiri, his two closest friends, would try to visit his Aunt from time to time. But then again, that also has a limit, they’ve got to go on with their own lives. In the meantime, he himself had to survive whatever this place is.

  Early afternoon saw him trying to make a rudimentary spear out of a 4-foot branch using his multitool knife set. Considering the two-inch blade, it was tiring and hard work. But the fire would temper the pointed edge. It kept him busy while he was still trying to assimilate the facts of his circumstances. Though a tiny voice from his survival mindset kept on reminding him about explosive diarrhea because of drinking lake water without filtering it. He knew he was being paranoid but the experience of being watched that morning forced him to think of a way of defending himself.

  However, the strangeness of the lake made him realize that there was no way he could fish for food. The lack of visibility in the water precluded it. He knew he should have bought that emergency fishing gear set. All he can do now is try to try to hunt small game if he could. A skill he knew he didn’t have. His biscuits won’t last. He only had two packages of SOS survival biscuits, two of Golden Round cheese crackers and one beef jerky pack.

  By evening, he had already accepted his situation and focused his attention on survival. He accepted that he was alone, not on Earth, with no food to last more than a day or two, and he would be dead if he didn’t act. How he arrived and where exactly he was in this place didn’t concern him yet. Those were questions he didn’t have answers for and hence could wait for another time. He knew now the flora would be suspect as he had no way of knowing which are edible and which are poisonous. Some of the trees he could recognize as oak and birch trees, others may be elm or beech. Many others he could not recognize.

  On the plants and other vegetation, he could not even begin to guess what they were. Some did look familiar but a gardener he was not. He had just to pray that at the very least his luck could help him avoid this world’s version of poison and other deadly plants which act on skin. Carn
ivorous plants would also be a possibility in this world. What they are and how they look was beyond him. Same with the fauna. He had not seen any animals except for that stupid frog. If it wanted a kiss, no way it was going to get it.

  On the bright side, the water appeared to be safe and potable as the current state of his stomach had now reassured him. Making sure that his items were already dry, he inventoried and repacked everything in his pack. He left out the tent, the emergency blanket, and the multitool for the time being. His tablet and cell phone appeared to be dry but he thought better of turning on his tablet. Even if it functioned, the battery life needed to be saved for now. As for his cell phone, it was next to useless. He wryly smiled as the thought that this world was really out of his service provider’s coverage area came to him. The vacuum packs of the biscuits he had eaten he now filled with water from the lake. His spear he pitched outside his tent. He now had a clear idea of what to do. To survive. And for the first time in several years, he prayed before going to sleep.

  His third morning found him ready to move out. Spear in hand, the multitool in his pocket and carrying his backpack, his hope was to find civilization of any sort. But the strange quiet that surrounded his location still disconcerted him. With a short prayer, he entered the forest.

  A few hours later, Tyler was running like his life depended on it. Actually, his life depended on it. He stupidly stumbled into a wolf pack’s dinner time after rolling down a small incline when he tripped on a vine. Curling as he bowled over the vegetation on his way down, hands covering his head for protection, he finally stopped at the bottom. Somewhere along the incline, he had lost hold of his makeshift spear. He was fortunate enough to land on his side facing the five wolves having a tartare meal.

  He was at the edge of a small clearing and the carnivores’ dinner party was on the opposite side. He couldn’t exactly see what the main course was but the wolves, now disturbed, were looking at him. He froze. The suddenness of the event stopping all participants in their tracks for exactly two seconds. Then the biggest of the pack growled and took a step towards him.

  Tyler ran back to the top of the incline. His fear gave impetus to an impressive speed for a lanky white male with minimal cardio training. A look back while crashing through the undergrowth showed that the wolves had nearly reached the middle of the clearing. He was barely a quarter of the distance up the incline.

  “SHIT! SHIT! SHIT!”

  His irrational fear overtook his mind as he watched the wolves rapidly closing the distance.

  “Go home you mangy bastards!” he shouted defiantly as he turned to look up the incline to continue his escape. As he continued his panic-stricken run, he missed what would have greatly surprised him. The wolves crashed into a sudden wave of force which blew them back to the far edge of the clearing. It was as if a giant, silent, and invisible broom swept them like dust balls, throwing them all in the air back to the other side of the glade. Tyler, of course, missed all that and ran down the other side of the top of the incline, back towards the part of the forest where he came from.

  The trek from the lake started well enough. After a laborious and slow travel through the tangled vegetation on the forest edge by the lakeside, he found a passable gap between the trees not blocked by the underbrush. Passing through it, he discovered it led to a crooked trail through the trees.

  Hoping it was a game trail, he followed it though he noticed that the eerie silence which he encountered by the lake shore continued. He kept on using the openings which he discerned through the towering trees. If he looked back, he would have noticed that the openings were not there anymore.

  After a few hours, he took a break and sat down under a tree, ate several biscuits, and some beef jerky washed down with water. It was still daylight though he couldn’t guess the time as the treetops blocked his view of the sky, letting through only a few tenacious sun beams.

  He thought of climbing a tree to get a bearing but the lowest branches were beyond his reach. Also, the density of the forest clearly made it impossible for him to see the lay of the land. Even if he could climb a tree, he simply expected a field of green. Finding a hill would be his best bet. There, viewing the landscape from the top of a sufficiently tall tree would hopefully give him a bearing on what direction to take.

  Munching through the tasteless survival biscuits, he did notice that the silence was lessening. If he forced himself to hear, he could already make out forest sounds. Which was a relief. For a while, he thought his hearing had been impaired. Though small animals were still conspicuously absent. His watch showed that it was 2:30 in the afternoon. Even so, he was not sure of its accuracy. Different world and all that.

  The trail stopped at the bank of a small stream. He stayed under cover and quietly looked around. He now could see what looked to be a couple of deer downstream, around a hundred feet away, one taking a drink from the meandering stream. He could see the sky. It was around noon in his estimation. In the far distance, he could observe a few birds flying above the forest. But aside from the stream, it was still all forest as far as he could see, though the trees on the other side seemed to be less tall. The silence which accompanied him was now gone. It felt as if he just removed earplugs.

  Refilling his makeshift water containers, he crossed the shallow brook and entered the forest on the other side. This time around he couldn’t see the beginnings of a trail or an uncluttered path through the vegetation. It was slow going. His arms now sported cuts and gashes from the plants and branches blocking his path as he forced his way through.

  To make matters worse, bugs now started to congregate around him. It did occur to him that his amateurish crashing through the undergrowth was announcing his presence throughout the area. It was after some painful and torturous three hours by his watch when he saw the incline. The terrain so far had been relatively flat. The incline, rising around twenty to thirty feet, could give him the opportunity to look around the forest from an elevated position. The trees on top of it looked to be climbable. Unfortunately, that was where he met the wolf pack welcome committee.

  His panic-stricken dash from the wolves took him in the opposite direction. All he could think of was increasing his distance from them. In the end, his tired body forced him to stop. Taking a drink of water, he looked around and found a short thick branch which could serve as a club. The wolves appeared to have stopped chasing him. He examined the surrounding trees and found one which could serve him as temporary shelter. He needed to rest and prepare for the night. Fortunately, the trees had reachable branches and his chosen tree had two adjoining branches of acceptable thickness around six feet from the ground.

  Climbing up, he arranged fallen branches between the two tree branches and formed a shaky platform long enough for his body. His emergency blanket he placed on the temporary platform and folded half of it for warmth. His backpack he used as a pillow. He now had to hope and pray he wouldn’t fall down during the night.

  Morning found him hungry, miserable, and tired but alive. He discovered his makeshift bed also served as an impromptu massage dais. In a bad way. His body ached and his sleep was very uncomfortable. Despite his tiredness, he woke up several times during the night due to unfamiliar forest noises and the fear of falling off the tree.

  After a breakfast of biscuits, a piece of jerky and water, he set off again. He was starting to feel that he would be lost forever in this forest. Or die as the main course of an animal or two or ten. He came to the realization he had already lost significant weight. His 180 pounds must have already dropped to 150 or 160. He could feel that he was starting to weaken. His clothes were dirty. He knew he stank horribly and the dirt and leaves in his hair didn’t improve his appearance. He wouldn’t be surprised if some insects had started to make it their home. He was also worried about his cuts and bruises. Some were starting to heal but he hoped infection wouldn’t be an issue. The possibility of getting sick while roaming around lost as a blind man in a labyrinth was unpleasant to co
ntemplate.

  After another few hours of struggling through the forest, he started to hear shouts in the distance. Crouching, he tried to move as fast as he could towards the commotion. Taking cover from tree to tree, he could also hear the distinctive sound of metal hitting metal. After about fifteen minutes, he heard a loud yell. He noticed that the noisy clash had stopped.

  Slowly he moved forward, still trying to maintain his tree to tree movement. He could already see a clear expanse through the trees ahead. He stopped and turned towards where the sounds came from. It came from his left, some distance away but he couldn’t see who made it. As he moved closer, he dropped to his stomach and crawled forward. The clang of metal he earlier heard made him nervous. As he got closer, he took cover behind a thick bush and carefully pulled a clump of leaves apart.