XII
Dangalf felt very magical in his robe but couldn’t help but feel naked without a wizard’s hat. Holding the wand would help, but so far Weyd refused to release it to him.
A wand was not a requirement of casting spells. (This was another example of his magic knowledge that Dangalf would have to unlearn due to the misinformation of the home world’s fiction.) But a wand helped with aiming, boosted the power of spells, and, as a visible weapon, had a certain intimidation factor. It acted as a battery storing electroplasmic energy in excess of the caster’s bodily pool. This was especially helpful when the caster was depleted of his natural electroplasm and could use the wand to continue casting spells until it also was depleted. As he continued to develop his pool of electroplasm, Dangalf would eventually carry a staff, which was a more powerful version of a wand.
Weyd was only slightly stern with Dangalf when he discussed wand etiquette. Otherwise he was a grandfatherly figure, and Dangalf thought it safe to bring up the Keepers’ predicament.
“Have you known of people from other worlds?” he asked.
“Oceania?”
“No. No place on this world. But from a different world entirely. Maybe a different universe.”
“It is said that the ancients traveled to another world freely. But that is only a mythology from what we know today.”
“How did they do it?”
“Lost ceremonies performed at a magical site.”
“Where is this site?”
“In Nemetia at the axis mundi.”
“Actual beings could move between worlds?”
“Yes. In the ancient time.”
Dangalf smiled. Is it possible? Elves and Dwarves visiting ancient Earth and shaping our own mythology?
“But that portal was closed during the Schism. And now Nemetia has fallen to Axis aggression. If any ceremonies are performed there now, they are the dark dealings of witches and necromancers.”
“Nemetia has fallen?” Dangalf asked quietly. In the game these sacred groves were neutral, incorruptible.
“Yes.” Weyd approached a large vase that held not flowers but scrolls, and he selected one.
“This is the world you have entered,” he said unrolling the map. It was Acadia not unlike that of the Cronica startup screen. But this map showed both the neutral lands of Nemetia and half of the elf kingdom shaded to show Legion occupation. He could see that the Alliance was on the precipice of defeat. He would need to tell the other Keepers.
“May I borrow this map?” he asked. Weyd nodded. “And what is this schism that you mentioned?”
Weyd ventured back beyond a white arch and returned with a volume that was kept separate from the front library. “A knowledge of magic is but an artifice without a knowledge of the world. This book is a history of this world but much more than that.” He handed the small, heavy volume to Dangalf. It was beautifully bound but undecorated on the outside. Inside, it was a magnificent example of an illuminated novel handwritten and illustrated with vibrant and metallic colors. He was astonished to see the title: Cronica Acadia. “On a superficial level it is a history of this world,” continued Weyd. “On its deepest level it is the key to ultimate knowledge. For that you will need to read what is not written in words. The Cronica is the abstruse entwined with the arcane and disguised as enigma. Glean what you can from this book first.”
Dangalf scanned ahead through the multitude of pages with illustrations and maps and many tiny words. “But it will take me a year, months at least, to read this.”
“You need only look at each page and capture it. Understanding will come later. Sometimes much later. Once it is in your memory, you will be able to access it for reference or comprehension later. I found it helpful many years ago to set aside part of my mind and to visualize a library, not unlike this one…” Weyd looked about and wrinkled his nose. “Only perhaps a little cleaner, to visualize a library where I placed my mind’s copy of each book I had looked upon. It is when I slumber that I read these books. And so will you.”
“You want me to read while I sleep?”
“No, dear apprentice. I’m afraid you won’t be sleeping for several weeks.”
XIII
The Keepers met for dinner after Doppelganger and Dangalf’s first day of training. The others had already taken a table at the Silent Woman when Dangalf showed up with his map. He unrolled the map, and he was not disappointed by the cries of shock and concern by the others at the precarious state of the Righteous Races. Any enthusiast of the board game Risk could see that the Legion’s advantage put the Alliance in grave jeopardy. And they were all enthusiasts of the board game Risk.
Dangalf hadn’t even let them digest the map when he told them of the book he had just been given. Cronica Acadia. It was a revelation to them all. Wasn’t the game Cronica based on a pulp novel called Cronica Acadia? Were these books the same? Dangalf had another shocking revelation. A portal long since closed had existed between the two worlds. Dwarves and elves may have visited ancient Earth!
None was more keen to hear about the Cronica Acadia than Ashlyn, for she had designed her own avatar to be generously ectomorphic, and her intellect was yearning. Dangalf continued solemnly, “The Cronica Acadia is the abstruse, entwined with the arcane, surrounding—”
“Creamy nougat?” said the not-so-ectomorphic Nerdraaage.
“This is deadly serious,” said Dangalf. “Nemetia is in enemy hands. Weyd said if we were summoned here from the axis mundi, it was likely done by a powerful witch.” The others were flattered and terrified to varying degrees.
XIV
After his two weeks of basic training, Doppelganger earned the distinction as the first guard of the shitehouse. Alfred explained a weakness was recently discovered when unfriendly dwarf and elf forces breached the compound by climbing through the drainage ditch. Doppelganger nodded as he feigned ignorance about the incursion. He was given a shield and a spear and a helmet with leather lining that smelled of other men’s sweat. He didn’t want Alfred to criticize him as delicate, so he put on the helmet with the smelly, wet lining. He did dare to ask for an axe—after all, his weapon could mean the difference between life and death, and he already knew the axe was his weapon of choice. Alfred screamed that Doppelganger was a piece of shite who was in no position to suggest what weapon he needed, and he further screamed that it wasn’t a spear but it was a glaive and that it was more useful to a guard than an axe as he could plant the butt in the ground and leverage the weapon to dismount a rider. Doppelganger did not bother to argue over the likelihood of an attacker charging out of the shitehouse on horseback.
Alfred lead Doppelganger to a miserable spot barely farting distance from the shitehouses and ordered him to stand there until relieved. Doppelganger feared that his most difficult task would be to stay awake, and he had asked his friends to come by and visit him. Nerdraaage cheerfully responded that he would come and see him each time he needed to take a shite. But it was only a few minutes into his shift that his friends came bounding down the dirt path toward him. Just seeing them made him smile. Even Dangalf had taken a break from his studies to visit poor Doppelganger. But he brought a book with him. He was had become one of those people.
They were excited to see Doppelganger, but his friends’ company did come at a price. “You finally found a job suitable for your talents!”
“You should set up a table with mints and a tip jar.”
“You should carry a plunger instead of a spear.”
“This gives new meaning to the expression ‘Halt! Who goes there!’”
“Do you have to stand so close to the shitehouses, or do you just like the smell?”
“I told you guys to come by one at a time,” Doppelganger interrupted. “That way, I would have company over a longer period of time instead of you just all coming and going together.”
“Yeah,” answered Ashlyn. “But we decided that would be boring for us.”
“And you,” he turned on
Dangalf. “You had to bring a book with you? You thought there might be a lull in the conversation and you could sneak in a few chapters?”
“What?”
“I’m out here all night, and I don’t have a book.”
“Would you like to borrow it?” Dangalf asked doing a terrible job of not sounding patronizing.
“What is it?”
“Evenson’s Black Tongue Primer.”
Doppelganger shook his head. “You know what I’ve been doing this last thirty minutes? I’ve been watching that anthill. Better than any TV show I’ve ever seen. Better than any movie. And I’ll be watching it all night.”
“Do they do anything at night?”
“I guess that’ll be one of the things I learn.”
“Well, I’ll expect your report in the morning.”
Now Doppelganger knew that Dangalf was mocking him, and he began to simmer. “You go around with your nose in a book all the time and you could miss out on a lot of things.”
“I’m not a naturalist, dude. I can’t be gazing at ants all day. This is my time to read and read as much as I can.”
“And you don’t think you could learn anything by watching these ants?”
“Like what? How to lift forty-two times my own weight?”
“Please,” interjected Ashlyn. “Can we not have another epeen contest about which is better, the White School or Red School!”
“Red School,” said Nerdraaage.
“Doppelganger,” said Ashlyn. “How’s your training going?”
After a moment getting over his anger, Doppelganger told them about his introduction to shields and swords and spears and the emphasis on defensive tactics. Offensive tactics would come as he proved himself. He told them that he was taught who and how to salute and showed them. Dangalf, who had always been a know-it-all and would only become more so, told them that the salute had evolved from the practice of helmeted guards lifting up their face shields for inspection.
Dangalf was pressed to discuss his training, but he dodged the subject. He explained it was wizard code not to discuss the training. “Who are you, David Copperfield?” demanded Nerdraaage.
“It’s not like that. It’s just considered poor form to discuss what you’re learning until you’ve learned it. For example, you don’t tell someone you’re learning to conjure fire. You show them that you can conjure fire after you can do it.”
“You’re learning to conjure fire?” asked Nerdraaage.
“Yes.”
“Was that so difficult?”
“It is if every day you ask if I can conjure fire yet and I can’t. That puts a lot of pressure on me. Conjuring fire is my foundation skill. If I learn it, I become a conjurer, a scroll-carrying member of the White School. If I don’t, I might be shoveling shite too.” Each of the classes had a foundation skill that was unique to their class and was of an exceptional nature.
“That is pretty heavy,” agreed Ashlyn. “Do you think you can do it?”
“I actually think I can,” answered Dangalf. “I mean this world, I can just sense it being filled with magic as if I could pull it right out of the air. I can almost smell it.”
“That’s just the shitehouse,” said Nerdraaage.
“My foundation skill is shapeshifting,” said Ashlyn. “It’s still inconceivable to me that it would be possible.”
A guard on patrol approached from a distance. “Is that the guard that wanted to kiss Elftrap?” asked Nerdraaage.
“Yes,” said Dangalf. “And it’s Ashlyn.”
“William,” said Doppelganger of the guard. “He’s an ass.”
William stopped at the group at looked at them contemptuously until finally setting his gaze on Ashlyn. “Darling, you don’t have to hang out at the shite-hole if you’re desperate for a man’s comfort.”
“Excuse me?” said Ashlyn.
“Sire, I ask you to be respectful of our lady friend,” said Dangalf.
“Lady!” laughed William.
“That’s enough of that,” said Dangalf.
“We don’t want any trouble,” said Ashlyn.
“And what will you do about it, skinny?” he challenged Dangalf.
“Why don’t you ask me what I’m going to do about it?” said Doppelganger.
William turned on Doppelganger furiously. “You noob!” The Keepers were all startled to hear that online insult uttered in this universe. “You hold a glaive for one day and think you can stand up to me! I challenge you to a duel!”
“I accept!” Doppelganger said quickly.
“In front of the shire-reeve’s office tomorrow during the changing of the guard. All will witness your humbling.” William marched angrily away in the direction that he came.
“I don’t want you guys getting in fights over me,” said Ashlyn.
“This is a chivalrous world. Men don’t just stand there while their women are being attacked,” said Doppelganger.
“She’s not even a real woman!” said Nerdraaage.
“You shouldn’t have gotten involved,” said Dangalf. “I was handling it.”
“I’m a warrior,” said Doppelganger. “I need to duel. That’s what we do.”
“He could kill you!” protested Ashlyn.
“He’s not gonna kill me.”
“How do you know?”
“If he’s beating me, I’ll just concede.”
“In the game!” said Ashlyn. “You don’t know that that applies here.” They were all silent for a moment.
“If he kills you, then he’ll have me to deal with,” said Dangalf.
“And what are you going to do?” asked Doppelganger. “You can’t even conjure fire.”
XV
The morning of the duel Doppelganger went to his training as usual. Alfred greeted Doppelganger by calling him “worthless and weak.” He then went on to say that Doppelganger still smelled of shite from his assignment the night before. Or maybe that was just his normal smell, he added. “I’m dueling today,” said Doppelganger.
“With who?” Alfred said without screaming.
“William.”
Alfred paused. “It should be a good duel.”
A kind word from Alfred! Suddenly Doppelganger was buoyed with confidence. But it was only momentary. He began to think that Alfred was taking pity on him, and that concerned him. Alfred remained unusually quiet. Doppelganger took up his wooden sword and shield without being told. He felt today’s training was especially important and was eager to begin.
“Hold on a moment,” said Alfred. He went to the back of his wagon and returned to Doppelganger. He handed Doppelganger a metal shield and axe. “I normally don’t introduce real weapons this early in training but you won’t be dueling with wooden swords,” said Alfred. Alfred took up his own metal shield and sword.
“Dueling is not combat,” he explained. “Combat is about killing your enemy. Dueling is about honor. It goes without saying that you do not want to be killed in a duel. However, it is almost as important that you do not lose honor.”
“If you kill someone in a duel, you could be charged with murder?” Doppelganger asked hopefully. Dangalf had researched the subject and told Doppelganger as much.
“Only if one refused a surrender. Or if one was to kill another of much lower rank. You two are of equal rank.”
The lesson was relatively easy. Doppelganger believed that Alfred did not want to overly tax him prior to the duel. He was, however, disappointed when Alfred sent him on his way at the end of the training day. He hoped that he would walk with him to the duel.
As Doppelganger approached the shire-reeve’s office, he saw what a spectacle the duel had become. The changing of the guard meant that nearly every guard in Hempshire was present. The guards stood watching Doppelganger, clearly aware of and waiting for the duel. Even the shire-reeve had stepped from his office and waited. The gathered guards had also attracted a hundred or so curious townspeople to the site. Doppelganger felt his nerves turn to anger as he observed t
he crowd, especially the townsfolk, who for all he knew had never picked up a weapon in combat. Damn NPCs!
There was Master Tolliver laughing and chatting with the smithy. He hated Tolliver’s ruddy, smiling face. He would get to sate his bloodlust without a hint of threat to himself. Doppelganger wished he were a spectator. How much easier this would be if he could have at least seen a duel before participating in one.
He saw his opponent finally and decided that William looked disappointed that Doppelganger had shown up. William’s grave look was some comfort.
The other Keepers arrived, and he smiled confidently for their benefit. Nerdraaage bumped fists with him. Dangalf smiled weakly. Ashlyn hugged him. Regardless of her previous incarnation, she certainly felt like a real woman pressed against him.
Nerdraaage had a wineskin bag slung over his shoulder. He held it to Doppelganger, who took a drink. “You’re going to kick his ass,” said Nerdraaage.
“How long has he been a guard?” asked Dangalf.
“Eight years,” said Doppelganger.
“That’s a long time,” worried Dangalf.
“That’s great!” said Nerdraaage.
“That he has eight more years experience than me?”
“Eight years and he’s still a guard,” explained Nerdraaage. “He’s just an NPC. Eight years from now you’re going to be a Dragoon, and he’ll still be a guard.”
Doppelganger nodded, wanting to believe Nerdraaage. It gave him some confidence where his weapons did not. He still carried the small, dull metal axe and shield he had just used in training.
The shire-reeve stepped into an empty spot between the two combatants, and Doppelganger knew it was time. He stepped forward as did William. He noticed the fine longsword and shield that William sported. The shire-reeve looked at him curiously.
“Doppelganger is it not?” asked the shire-reeve.
“Yes, sire.”
“How long have you been a guard?”
“Two days today, sire.”
The shire-reeve turned toward William. “So there won’t be much honor for you even in victory?” he asked. William looked chagrined. “Do you wish to call this off?” asked the shire-reeve. Dangalf and Ashlyn brightened.
Cronica Acadia Page 8
