The Accidental Archmage: Book Nine: The Dragon Houses

by Edmund A. M. Batara

  “Shouldn’t we say hello to the guardian of this place?” he finally asked the pair.

  “A moment, Sire,” said Hal.

  After few minutes, Tyler began to worry. His guides should have updated him by now. Any response should have been immediate.

  “It is strange, Archmage,” came X’s voice. “It is an Elder sanctuary, but we don’t sense the presence of the guardian. The entire complex is intact, and we could even confirm the existence of the tablets, yet our brethren is absent. What made it more curious is that Elder energy prevents closer scrutiny of the place. Such a situation shouldn’t happen.”

  ***

  Surprisingly, the bad news didn’t affect Tyler as much as he expected. His only reply to the finding was an ironic grin. Given his experiences on Adar, positive things seem to be wrapped in or warped by dark influences. Then he smiled some more, reflecting that the world had changed him. In the early days, his response would have been an angry one. The young mage had learned to take good things with the bad. He wouldn’t characterize it as maturity, more of an acceptance of where he was – that the rules have changed. But he’d be damned if he’d allow Adar’s harsh reality to determine his judgment and what made Tyler human.

  Still, their present situation wasn’t to his liking. His expectation appeared to have been fulfilled, but with an unknown catch. But there were matters to attend to before continuing to explore the cavern’s enigma. Air, according to X, was not a problem. The Elder shrine had its own way of maintaining breathable space. The company had detected the approach of the local inhabitants and was already positioned defensively. There were two magic users among the advancing host, but the energy they wielded was the usual pattern. Hal ventured that the Romanii mage could readily handle them if it came to a fight.

  “Any deities watching over them?” asked Tyler. The native population might have their own pantheon or pantheons. Their millennia of existence would be enough to give rise to their own version of Earth’s myths and legends.

  “None that we could sense, Sire,” answered X, “but it is highly probable that such beings exist even if they seem to be limited to the Isle. Available Elder records do not show such deities on the mainland. The records of this shrine could clarify the subject.”

  “I thought the sites were linked,” said the puzzled mage. It was but natural, he considered. AIs like his guides would be interconnected. Unless they were created as independent systems.

  “We shared most knowledge at the beginning, but after the last of the Elders left, we shut down all communications to the outside world,” replied Hal. “We had the location of the shrines and the general state of the world at that point. But as we waited for a mortal from the First World, all we could do was a passive observation of our immediate area. Our instructions were to avoid being noticed and watch. G was an exception, though it might more to do with the whims of its creator.”

  Tyler said nothing. As his mind dealt with what the guide said, his eyes re-examined the hollow. The walls and the floor were preternaturally smooth, leading the mage to enhance his vision to include energy flow within the space. Thick tendrils of magic whipped through the air, dancing around them. He ignored the budding tempest and focused on the walls. A few seconds later, he could see fiery lines within the rock. The eldritch tracks ran through the entire complex. Their straight lines reminded him of a circuit board and a few connected to the design engraved on the floor.

  “We’re surrounded by… circuits?” ventured the mage, for the lack of a better term.

  “Part of the automated design, Sire. Guardians were to oversee everything and provide guidance when and where necessary. We also provide the final anti-tampering barrier,” Hal informed him.

  “If the Guardian was absent, how do we access the temple?”

  “Our Makers provided for such an occurrence. They foresaw such an event, though their concern stemmed from the possibility of natural disasters. The automation of the basic processes of the complexes made the task easier. The only trigger would be the lack of response to the transmitted activation keys. We only need to repeat the hailing procedure before using the keys,” said X. “You wish to start the process?”

  “Yes, please.”

  After a few minutes, the magical lines around them flared. The entire floor slowly began to sink. Despite the irregular outline and the passage of time, the downward movement of the platform was smooth. Tyler gripped his staff, checked his shields, and then warned Birki. Better to be prepared than be caught unaware. The illumination never wavered and followed the young mage down into the waiting unknown.

  ***

  It was the equivalent of a five-story drop. Nothing untoward happened, despite his apprehension. Then the platform stopped.

  “Sire, turn around,” whispered one of the guides. Tyler was facing the wrong way.

  Another hollow greeted him. It was bigger than the one they’d left but still had the uncanny smooth surfaces. A quick shift in perception revealed the familiar Elder energy lines on the walls, though more of them. All were channeled toward the symmetrically arranged rectangular outlines on the floor.

  “Are those…?” he asked, addressing his query to no one particular. The young man instinctively tried to calm himself down, realizing at the same time that he was holding his breath. But even with such efforts, he could feel the pounding exhilaration.

  “Yes, Archmage. Sadly, the guardian is indeed gone. All we could detect are code snippets, all intended to maintain the shrine. The original protocols had been removed,” X answered sadly. The discernible emotion surprised the mage. It sounded too human.

  “Hell. What happened?” inquired Tyler, maintaining his position on the stage. Somehow, he didn’t think it was time to step on the waiting ebony floor even if the rectangular outlines shone enticingly.

  “The guardian’s protocols have been compromised. Its code structure was hollowed inside out,” answered Hal. Where sadness marked X’s response, Hal’s was the opposite. The guide was livid.

  “Hacked, you mean. Zombified,” the words came quickly from Tyler. A reply he immediately regretted. Given the reactions of his guides, it sounded callous.

  Fortunately, the pair were unfamiliar with the first term, though the meaning of zombified was obvious. Mindful of what he had done, the mage tactfully explained what hacked meant. It was First World slang, though when clarified, both guides understood the gist of it. Quite apt, was the only comment of Hal. Yet Tyler had become wary. A hacked artificial intelligence could mean a lot of trouble. He didn’t know what else had been done. There could be activated defenses that would turn him to ash or send him to an infernal dimension the moment his feet touched the waiting floor.

  “Unpleasant surprises?” he inquired warily.

  “None that we could detect,” reassured Hal.

  The answer was a relief to Tyler’s worried mind. Yet, he couldn’t shake off a nagging unease. There was something more in the waiting, quiet tableau. If the young mage remembered it right, the unlamented rogue Elder posted in this refuge was the one he saw back in the Aztecah temple city.

  “Something’s not right, guys. I’ll bet Hal’s beard on it,” he slowly told the pair.

  “You’re correct, Archmage,” affirmed X, though Tyler could hear Hal’s protest about having no beard, figuratively or literally. “Though the energy shroud still covers the tablets, their proximity to our sensors reveals an anomaly, even if the entire complex continues to operate on automatic mode.”

  “I knew it was too good to be true. Lady Luck plays with marked cards with me,” the mage commented grimly. He wasn’t surprised at the news. There was usually a downside to positive developments, especially in his case. “Whoever said don’t look at a gift horse in the mouth probably had a short life or became a lot poorer for the experience. Give me the shitty news.”

  “It appeared that the Followers of Zen were in the process of corrupting the tablets. For what purpose, we cannot say. Five had been
affected, and we are still trying to determine the extent of damage to the rest,” X reported.

  “It must have taken a lot of power, even if they were familiar with Elder tech,” observed Tyler. He had not stepped off the platform. X’s news made him doubly careful. His shields wouldn’t do squat against Elder defenses.

  “Indeed, Archmage. Other than Elder energy, only an incredible amount of normal magic – modified, at that – would have a chance of breaking through the tablets’ protections. Even the power of deities like Zeus and Odin combined would be akin to using a slingshot against a stone battlement.”

  “And yet, here we are, faced with the improbable,” he replied mechanically, his mind already racing through viable energy sources. The Followers of Zin wouldn’t have the power. They were too few and were in hiding. He doubted if they had recourse to using their rational kin’s knowledge. Rational in the comparative sense, Tyler conceded. As far as he was concerned, they were mad scientists—absurdly powerful ones. The races had split into divergent paths, and from what he had seen so far, the effects were not only in terms of lore, but also physical racial traits. Besides, any extensive usage of Elder magic would stick out in the magical fabric of the world, attracting the attention of their deadly rivals. Then he realized what happened.

  “Guys, if one used the concentrated essences of magical beings, would that work?” Tyler asked.

  “Conceivably,” answered X. “But it would require enormous amounts. The pureness, density, and potency of the essence of a collected deity or spirit is vastly more powerful than what it could conceivably wield as an entity. They are, after all, beliefs made manifest by magic.”

  “As compared to magic wielded by humans, I suppose,” the mage replied.

  Hal spoke up, explaining that human use of etheric energy is coursed through a medium. Deities and other spirits expend their essence and then are replenished by their surroundings. It was the reason why prodigious feats by gods are rare and far between. Belief enhances their ability to harness the energy. One reason why worshippers are important to such beings. Yet to some degree, raw magic is changed as it is made manifest either by mortals or beings created by it. Tyler was perplexed. Shouldn’t coming into existence dispense with the need for belief to maintain their forms on this plane?

  “There is a tenuous connection between a maker and its creation, especially in magic. When that tie disappears, the handiwork weakens and goes back to the ether. But while on this plane, they are fishes swimming in a sea of worms. Forgotten darker entities try to survive on wisps of power from other dimensions such as that creature the rock daemon slew at the dimensional junction between Adar and Tartarus. Others bargain with extradimensional beings to maintain their existence. There are bigger fishes who prey on smaller ones, but that’s beside the point,” continued the guide.

  The mage’s memory went back to the shining globes the Aztecah had collected. The bastards had amassed a profane stockpile beyond counting. The malevolent venture had long puzzled him. Using such immense power reserves seemed to be beyond the abilities of the Aztecah pantheon. Now, the grisly answer was staring at him.

  “Sneaky,” said Tyler, voicing the observation out loud. “Using this world’s magic would avoid the unwelcome attentions of their rivals. The question now is, what were they trying to achieve?”

  Chapter Two

  The Followers of Zin

  “If I may, Archmage,” started X. “The Followers of Zin were primarily seekers of knowledge with a divergent belief that the Elder race was meant to rule over others. Yet the profane assembly also held that the form of the race was not perfect and sought to make it an ideal one. By their standards, of course.”

  “Wait, wait—the ascended Elders. I meant the non-deviant ones who now hold unbelievable godlike powers. That’s not enough?” retorted Tyler verbally, confused by the revelation.

  “The Followers were already around before the race started on its long road to transformation. I believe they found new grounds to argue that the chosen evolutionary path wasn’t the best.”

  “That’s so… human.”

  “Indeed,” cut in Hal.

  The guide’s simple reply surprised Tyler. For the lack of a better word, it was a human observation. He wondered how the advanced artificial minds of the pair actually viewed their creators. Or the race. But it was a subject for another time. X was freely releasing information, and the mage wanted to learn as much as he could about the culprits of their present dilemma. Considering that he needed to ask the pertinent question to get any specific knowledge, the current flow of material was one of those singular opportunities. He prodded the guide to continue, hoping that the sect’s motivations would give him an insight into what the Followers were doing in an Elder sanctuary.

  What followed was X’s briefer on the Followers, although it was a discourse peppered with repeated cautions that what was given was based on speculations. Elder history revealed that the Followers became openly hostile when their efforts to steal knowledge and subvert Elder studies came to light. They were searching for the legendary Vaults of Zin, a repository of extradimensional eldritch lore. Of the being known as Zin, the Elders had no information whether he actually existed.

  But the Elders’ assessment held that if Zin was real, he was a formidable creature to be feared. The Vaults were in a realm described as the Dreamlands. Though some believed that the dire domain was an underworld, most of the theories agree it was, in fact, an extradimensional plane. The description itself was a clue on its location. Unlike the rest of the dreadful entities worshipped by the other cults, the emphasis of Zin lore on a place apparently accessible only through visions reveals a terrible psychic threat. Mere exposure would be enough to twist perception and belief. To what end, the scholars had their disparate conjectures. The Followers’ tenets held that the lore found in the Vaults held the key to their ultimate goal. Accessing it and proving that the Dreamlands was real would be a validation of their beliefs.

  “Fanatics, then,” stated the mage thoughtfully. He would have laughed if the matter wasn’t serious. The Elder race might be highly advanced and several rungs up on the evolutionary ladder, but the rise of the rogues and the dangerously divergent paths they took wasn’t that different from the Earth Tyler had left behind.

  The more things change, the more they stay the same, Tyler reflected as he listened to X.

  “The rogues were all fanatically focused on their beliefs, though the Followers were an exception because they sought knowledge for their version of what the race should be. The other sects were obsessed with the idea that an extradimensional entity could give them power beyond their wildest dreams or that such a being could be better trusted with the fate of the Elder race,” explained the guide.

  “There’s a First World saying that knowledge is power. In a sense, the Followers were no different from the rest of that ilk,” mused Tyler.

  “True. It could be a quixotic quest, to borrow a First World term, or the fools could instead unleash a destructive being whose very existence was anathema to what we consider as reality. The quaintly called Walls of Sleep, as the Followers referred to the Dreamlands’ dimensional veil, could easily be the Walls of Death.”

  “Like the Void?”

  “Ginnungagap was able to reach Adar with only a sliver of itself after passing through the intervening dimensions. The laws of thermodynamics are a constant in the universe, be it in magical realities or not,” said X. “That entity lost a lot of its remaining power as it forced a passage through the various rifts. But its connection with the Norse pantheon and its lore might have enabled it to find its destination easily.”

  “That’s science stuff. Thermodynamics. Gives me a headache, X. Let’s go back to the Followers,” commented the amused young mage. The discussion was veering toward X’s favorite field of discussion. Dizzying scientific equations danced their way through his memories. He shuddered. Torturous nights of make-up lessons marked his way through high sc
hool, and it was barely enough to let him graduate.

  “This attempt of the Followers puzzles us, Sire. It could be desperation on their part. Their numbers are few, and the sect’s capabilities are limited. They must have thought that conversion of Elder energy and structures was possible,” replied X slowly.

  “Is it possible?” asked the mage. He had the impression before that whatever the rogues pursued, the result of such efforts removed their ability to make use of their rival’s knowledge and power.

  “Data is insufficient for a conclusion, Archmage. But they have already corrupted a few of the tablets.”

  Tyler thought about what the guide said. The Followers had achieved something extraordinary in their attempt to reach a dimensional nexus where the Vault was located. From what he had seen, such an effort would need a structural framework, the requisite power, and knowledge of the destination. He assumed the sect knew the latter. Yet, the rogues clearly didn’t use the magical energy they had gathered to create a direct passage. Or believed the vast reserves they had accumulated were insufficient.

  “They needed to create a portal,” he voiced out finally. “The Vault must be in a dimension extraordinarily difficult to access. Even more challenging than the realities sought by the other cults.”

  Tyler believed that the information within the tablets would have provided the Followers the basis for designing the necessary portal template. The databanks contained core knowledge about two fundamental forces – creation and destruction. What else would they need? Still, they would be left with a vastly reduced number of magical essences by the time they had converted the sanctuary. It seemed a doomed effort.

  Yet something was nagging him about his conclusion. The Followers weren’t stupid. They might be weaker than the other groups, but considering that their tenets emphasized knowledge, they knew what they were doing. Their transformation of Elder technology was already an impressive achievement. He was missing a variable in the puzzling equation. Then it came to him.