HABROK!
He ran to the downed ranger, hoping he was still alive. Reaching him, he found the man stunned and sporting a few cuts on his head. His armor had absorbed some of the force resulting from the blast. Luckily, the blast was not a direct hit on the man. Otherwise, he would be picking up pieces instead of trying to help him. He cast a healing spell and helped the man on his feet.
“You’re alright?” asked Tyler. The man nodded and then shook his head, evidently trying to clear his noodle.
“Then get back there! You wouldn’t want Jorund to have all the fun, would you?”
They both ran back to their positions. Tyler was starting to feel fatigued. Not only in a physical sense. The battle he was fighting on two fronts was draining him mentally. But he observed that no arrows had fallen on their position. He must have eliminated the archers. As he looked over his cover, he saw three robed figures had reached the edge of the clearing. Nobody else was with them.
Shit. Mages. Powerful ones to be able to survive those showers.
But Tyler thought that whatever barriers or shields they had would have been weakened by the explosions. Rune shields need time to go back to full strength after being battered as an infusion of energy was again needed to rebuild it. He doubted they had the time to bring up their shields back up to full strength. With that, he conjured a single blade the size of a large spearhead, making it thicker than usual and infused it with fireball energy. He hoped his new idea will work. It had been inspired by the shrapnel effect he saw decimating the dokkalfr. He fired the large single blade against the mages who stood near each other. They must have combined their shields to make it stronger, observed Tyler. The blade hit the mage in the middle and exploded. Tyler immediately expanded and fortified the area of effect of the spell, willing it to burn hotter. Some blade shards were flying off in different directions.
It may be overkill but Tyler wanted to make sure those mages die. He knew they were lethally dangerous once they get into casting mode. When the blast subsided, nothing was left of the mages. He breathed a sigh of relief. But his tiredness had worsened. His vision was starting to be foggy, drifting from clarity to bleariness at times. The forest was empty of enemies though he could see late-comers in the distance turning back. With any luck, they didn’t see the change in defense position, he hoped. But he was sure another group will attempt to attack again.
He called over the two for a quick meeting. The two also looked tired. He cast a healing spell on each.
“Men, there will be another attack after they get their bearings. Same warning procedure as before. Bring out the light spheres. I am going to change them to fireball spheres but will thicken their walls. If any get too close, start throwing them. They would need a strong impact to explode. Be very careful with them and make sure they’re not in the line of fire from enemies. We still have enough arrows?”
As the two nodded, he was already changing the light spheres in front of him. He had included the ones he kept with him. He was already worried that the next wave of attackers may be able to surmount the low cliff and try to fight up the blocked trail. With that done, he went back to his vantage point. As he looked at the mess in front of him, he found the wagons already passing through. Ten of them have survived the Scarburg catapults. The jotnar catapults were also closing in from behind.
OH, FREAK ME!
He had to make a decision. Hitting the wagons gave the enemy below a chance to find out where he was. Though the jotnar and dokkalfr knew the clearing was held by enemies, he doubted if they expected that he would be able to wreak the devastation he did on the host below him. The distance was too great for ordinary mages.
Hell, nobody lives forever anyway, he said to himself, better go out with a lot of boom-boom!
He created spheres at the front of the moving wagons, five carts at a time, filled with the strongest energy his will could muster. The result was spectacular, to say the least. A sequence of thunderous explosions rocked the field. Wheels, wagon debris, mantlet pieces, burning fascines, and carcass parts went up the air. Again, it was a staggering sight. From a distance, they looked like toys a disturbed child exploded with fireworks. Reminded him of that cartoon movie. The thunderous explosions definitely will attract attention but there is still a slim chance the enemy will blame the catapults of the defenders.
Turning his attention to the arriving jotnar catapults, he saw they have stopped and stayed just outside the kill zone of their Scarburg counterparts. They were already starting to position the siege equipment, the animals being led to one side. They have better range if they’re going to fire from that position. He knew that unless he took care of those war machines, then the town could be battered at will. But they were a bit far. He originally intended not to burn them but destroy them in a way that pieces of the catapults would block or at least hinder the progress of the siege towers.
This is turning out to be a day of surprises.
He experimented with a small AWAY! spell against one of the catapults. He could see it rock from the spell but he couldn’t see any discernable damage. It appeared that some of his spells lose potency and strength with distance. SHIT! FIREBALLS IT IS! As there were six catapults, he decided to deal with them one by one to make sure of their destruction. Again, he created a fireball sphere at the front of one catapult. But when he ignited it, it merely damaged the massive front of the catapult. Some parts caught fire but were quickly doused by the crew.
Focusing his eyesight to the best he can, he saw that the catapult was protected by a massive metal shield in front of the machine. He cursed in frustration. He then created a single large fireball blade in the shape of a spearhead and flung it at the top of the catapult. When it exploded, he saw the satisfying sight of the machine on fire while crumbling into its component pieces. The shrapnel effect he didn’t count on anymore as he was facing timber and iron, not flesh and blood. The crews he merely deemed collateral damage. The machines were what mattered.
He did the same attack on a second and third catapult. Then he suddenly had to stop. Vertigo had set in. He now clearly felt the physical fatigue and his mind was starting to lose its focus. Casting another healing spell on himself, he destroyed the other catapults. But he noticed that his reaction was slowing. It took longer for him to form and infuse the shape with the needed energy. By the fifth casting, he found he had to concentrate just to keep his mind on what he was doing. He had to exert more effort to maintain his concentration for the sixth and last blade. After that, he closed his eyes and tried to rest. His head hurt a lot and he loosened his grip on the staff. He felt so weak. He wanted to sleep. Mercifully, his conscience kept its silence. He couldn’t deal with such angst right now.
And he still had siege towers to deal with. A larger army. Another attack through the burned forest. And a possible attack mounted directly against his vantage position. FREAK THEM.
CHAPTER XV
Rumpr
He was flitting in and out of consciousness. His body wanted to close shop and rest but something in his mind wouldn’t allow it. A part of his awareness found the reaction strange.
He vaguely remembered that incidents of extreme displays of magical expenditure always led to his body shutting down. As he was struggling with the opposing impulses in his mind, he noticed Jorund had snuck into the tarp.
“My lord, you don’t seem well.”
“You know I am really not comfortable with that “my lord” deal, Jorund.” His thought process was on punch-drunk mode. He noticed he was starting to lose attention on the subject.
“Uuuhhh, what I mean is you look as if you can’t fight anymore, my...” Jorund stopped, trying to accommodate him.
“Oh, the fighting. No, I don’t think we can fight here anymore. We can still fight but not here. We need to rest,” Tyler was starting to slur his sentences. With a final effort, he closed his eyes and focused on what he was going to say.
“Any enemies in the clearing?”
“None for now. But once they report back, a larger force will be sent.”
“All right. Here’s what we do. Gather all the arrows we have left. Divide between you and Habrok. Bring food and water. We’ll leave this position now and move deeper to the forest. And... wait, let me think.....Habrok scouts for us and keeps overwatch. You carry me and the tarp. Don’t forget the staff. I don’t think I have the energy to walk for a while. Do it now. I can’t keep my eyes open and I am finding it difficult to think.”
After some time, Tyler felt hoisted. Opening an eye, he found himself on Jorund’s right shoulder. The man was carrying his staff on his left hand while waterskins and a sack of food slung from his left. Man, this guy is strong. He closed his eyes and found that the resistance in his mind to sleeping was gone. His last thought before his beauty sleep was how and why did it disappear.
He woke up and found himself lying down on the tarp, Jorund was a few feet away. Habrok was nowhere to be seen. Oh, my aching head. His mind was now clearer but he still felt weak. Jorund noticed that he had awoken and came over with the waterskin.
“Hungry, my lord?”
He nodded and Jorund also gave him some bread and meat. While he was eating, Jorund was looking at him. The man had something on his mind. He decided to ask his questions first.
“Where are we? And where’s Habrok?”
“Deeper in the forest, my lord. We’re in a defile and are already some distance from the old cabin. About four miles. Habrok went back to remove traces of our passage. Also to see what’s happening. He’ll be back in an hour or so. About two hours have already passed since he left. We’ll need to know if they start moving in this direction.”
“Oh, that’s excellent. Wait. You carried me for four miles?”
“Yes, my lord but don’t worry about it. You were very light. Suffering from magical exhaustion.”
“Magical exhaustion?”
“You didn’t know about that risk, my lord?”
“Please stop calling me “my lord”. Where I come from, that title is not acceptable at all. And to tell you the truth, it makes me uncomfortable. You can call me Havard. If you have to use a title or something, just call me “Sir” or “Sire”.
“As you wish. But I cannot call you by your given name. It is not proper. We are sworn to you. What is this “Sir” and “Sire”?”
“The word “sir” can be used to refer to a senior of a person or a leader in a military group. It is a word of respect. “Sire” is used sometimes instead of Lord. It can also be a title of respect or may refer to a respected elder.”
“I think we would prefer “Sire”. Please consider that when a person to whom oaths of service have been given also have titles of respect and honor, such honor is also shared by the people who serve him. Sire. Honoring you in the presence of others also gives us honor in return."
“I can settle with “Sire”, Jorund.”
“Sire, would you mind if I ask you some questions. I don’t intend to pry. But this has to do with the condition you experienced.”
“I think that’s reasonable.”
“First, I don’t think you had formal magical training, Sire. Even if the Gothi of Maljen treated you as a mage with respect and honor. I doubt if you were ever a trader at all. Magical exhaustion is a condition which even apprentice mages know about. It is one of the main dangers of spell casting. Casting spells means forcing magical energy through a mortal vessel. It is draining, exhausting, and if uncontrolled, dangerous to mind and body. During our training for combat magic, we lost two men due to magical exhaustion. One became mad and the other died when the magical energy burned his innards and left him a husk.”
“WHAT?”
“We are but mortal, Sire. Mages cannot maintain continuous use of spells. Even the casting of three minor ones in quick succession will exhaust an ordinary mage. Adepts can try but almost all have to settle for two. The most I have seen is five successive minor spells but the mage collapsed. Mages need a little time between spells for their bodies to recover from the use of magical energy. A High Mage can probably manage three major spells and two minor ones in one casting session but even that is a draining exercise. Yet I have seen you cast spell after spell, major fireball spells at that and that blade spell, with negligible effect on you. It took your casting of continuous spells against the dokkalfr wagons and the jotnar heavy catapults to finally wear you down. And in all that time, I have not seen you use a runic plate or tablet.”
“And what do you think?”
“Habrok has no idea of magical issues, Sire. All he uses are prepared items. He won’t understand what he saw you do back at the clearing and against the enemy host. But I do. But you are my lord now. More than a lord. What the All-Father made me do is fit for a god. I have no reservations or regrets about my vow. What I have seen stays with me. I am concerned about your lack of knowledge on the mortal dangers of magical use. I worry it may lead to your unwitting death or madness. Do not get me wrong, Sire. You are the most powerful human mage I have ever seen. The fact you can cast spells without runes and spells nobody had even thought of, like those blades and those spheres of fire, make you a uniquely powerful magic user in the whole of Adar. I am honored to be at your service and I am proud to have given you my oath.”
“What else have you seen me do?”
“Those dokkalfr you removed from existence the night of the ambush and the attack on the jotnar encampment. You have clearly met the All-Father, something even the High Mages, the Jarls, and the High King cannot say for themselves. You have survived Fossegrim and one of its drakes. It is clear you have the favor of the power that resides in Fossegrim Forest. Those alone are the stuff of legends. And your quest has just started.”
“Ah, Jorund. I begin to think you already suspect me as a visitor.”
“Yes, Sire. We have been taught about them during our training. But for almost all people, visitors are legends. If I have not dreamt of the All-Father, I would not have believed it myself. The things I have seen you do are not within the ability of anyone in Adar, save the gods. Though for an apprentice trader, your lack of knowledge about many of the towns in Skaney raised my suspicions.”
“And yet I still lack a lot of knowledge about magic and its limitations.”
“I will try to help, Sire. I have little knowledge about higher magic but what I know I will gladly share with you. Combat magic for warriors is still based on runes. But my knowledge is limited by the fact that what is taught to us is merely what is needed for battle and combat purposes. Its direction is different from the path of knowledge for mages.”
“About this magical exhaustion thing, what do I need to know about it?”
“As I said, we are but mortal. Hence magical ability is limited from person to person. Magical exhaustion is identified by three progressive stages. The first is the feeling of slight physical and mental exhaustion. The second is manifested by extreme dizziness and headaches. In some instances, nausea. The most dangerous stage which may lead to death or madness, is extreme body weakness, inability to think, continued dizziness, increasing pain of the headaches, and mental exhaustion. The mind starts to find it very difficult to think. If the body shuts down and the person loses consciousness, his body may have already incurred some damage. If the brain is severely damaged, then madness sets in. If mind and body are both damaged too much, then the person may not awaken anymore. Death may occur even before these occurrences when the mortal vessel cannot handle or control extreme magical energies passing through it. As I said, I have seen a man burned from the inside by the magical energies he couldn’t control.”
Freak me! I better watch for those signs. I nearly died out there!
“What can I do?”
The Accidental Archmage: Book One - Ragnarok Rising (MOBI EDITION) Page 31
