Sometimes, hate is such a small word, reflected Tyler coldly. The kidnapping of his wife, the death of a friend and severe injuries to two others, coupled with the ensuing devastation of this part of the forest and then a gravestone marker as a final greeting card. All that from a being who claimed to have the best interests of humanity at heart.
“The forest spirit is unharmed, and enjoys the best of my hospitality. You are to proceed to Tartarus and join her, at least until the spilling of blood and gore is over and my business with this world is finished. Go straight toward the tallest peak of the Northern Dvergar Range, and you’ll find a well-known trail to the villages of exile. There, Dolos will find and guide you to the gates of Tartarus.”
The shape started to slowly fade away, and Tyler noticed their surroundings were starting to disappear too, replaced by the actual scenery of the forest. It was like watching a copy of a picture being peeled off the original image. He glanced at Kobu, an unstated question in his raised eyebrow.
“It’s the spell, sire. Quite impressive, considering it not only projects the image of the speaker, but also freezes the scenery around us at the moment of activation. As you can see, we’re now returning to reality,” said Kobu. All that was needed to complete his amusement was a chuckle.
“He knew we were coming here, but I guess that was expected, and the nature of his spell does explain why I could hear the sound of trees falling as a result of my attack, though I couldn’t see its effect. Wait, now I can see the mess I made. I hope nobody got hurt,” replied Tyler with dismay as the mass of fallen trees, with a few still burning, greeted him.
He had created a narrow trail of destruction through the thick forest foliage. The nearest trees had been messily blasted, with only stumps remaining, and the devastation continued as far as he could see, but those in the distance appeared to have been merely cut down. It was an observation that got the mage to thinking that even magic had its scientific limits – its power was not stable and permanent. Like any other form of energy, it did lose strength the more obstacles it had to pass.
Then the implications of the bleak and depressing scene of destruction, though admittedly impressive, suddenly dawned on him. The young man’s features visibly paled at the depressing epiphany.
“Shit. If Eira were here, I’d get spanked badly, and not in a good way,” he said to himself.
***
“So, Iapetus is involved in this… unfolding epic which has entangled me in its unbelievably stupid web? I never thought he had the balls to go against all the beautiful people.”
Asag’s familiar voice sounded from the back. It was a question made in a conversational tone, though it did imply a more than a fleeting acquaintance with the name.
“You know him?” asked Tyler quickly. He knew it was a stupid question given the statement, but he wanted more information.
“A passing acquaintance in my younger years. Never did impress me – no weighty jewels between the legs to speak of. Makes one wonder where the sons got their heroic bent,” dismissively answered the daemon.
“And you consider his level of deviousness moronic?” asked the befuddled Tyler. Asag was an insufferable and arrogant bastard, but the mage doubted the daemon would so casually and derisively dismiss the capability and abilities of their present nemesis.
“Of course! Only weaklings resort to such chicanery. And despite his vaunted prowess, consider how many plots and schemes you have thwarted,” said Asag smugly. Then the entity followed his statement with a bout of laughter. “The pathetic part of the entire spectacle was when he admitted you inadvertently foiled some of his plans. It’s so Greek! A tragedy perhaps on his part, but an extremely funny one!”
Asag’s comments brought down the house of conclusions Tyler had already built. The daemon wasn’t dumb, and at the very least, the creature had the rare ability to gauge the power of the entities he had met. That was apparent even with the debacle he had suffered at the hands of two furious pantheons. A past history which again raised the question of why the blazes Asag would knowingly court the ire of the Norse and Greek deities.
Tyler noted that mystifying contradiction and filed it at the back of his mind. He already understood there was more to Asag than what his actions and thoughts portrayed, but every day that passed in the company of the daemon only reinforced his suspicion that he actually knew nothing about Asag.
“You don’t believe he’s behind every ruinous event plaguing Adar?” prodded the mage.
The daemon stared at him for several moments and then gave an amused chuckle.
“A world of magic, filled with powers from two realities. Do you really think that a mere dingir, or a deity coming from just one culture, one among many, I may add, has the ability to shake this plane’s foundations? Only a Nether Lord has that level of power, and that deluded fool does not belong to that category,” spat the daemon contemptuously.
“Nether Lord? What’s that?” asked Tyler with rising trepidation. But he was aghast and thoroughly vexed by the unexpected notion of another group of clearly malevolent beings.
Another group of powerful idiots. And here I am, thinking I’ve heard everything. These new assholes fit nicely right after the Dark Ones, Hidden Bastards, and the whole crummy lot, thought the mage. But why do I still get surprised? One would think I’d have gotten used to it by now.
“Don’t get your dragonscale armor in knots and your guts into conniptions, Archmage. Having the runs is not funny. At least not for mortals,” answered Asag with a laugh. The being apparently saw the reaction of Tyler.
“It’s but a term I use to call really powerful beings of other realities, usually mad or hungry or both. They exist outside the boundaries of this dimension. Actually, most defy description. Dimensions have different yardsticks of existence – a fact which a certain Archmage would do well to remember,” explained the daemon. “But don’t worry. Breaking the barriers between major dimensions requires power beyond belief, not to mention almost all of consequence on the other sides of the different dimensional walls are also busy with their concerns – usually life-and-death ones. Backstabbing and power-grabbing seemed to be common denominators across realities.”
“You’ve seen some. Your words imply some familiarity with the subject,” Kobu butted in, though Tyler noted Asag’s use of the word I which meant the daemon believed he was the only one familiar with the concept.
“A few. Minor ones,” replied Asag cryptically.
He can look at other realities? Has he been to such dimensions? thought the shocked mage.
“And? Come on, Asag, you know what I am asking,” continued Kobu.
“Well, for one thing, butt-ugly does not even begin to describe them,” said Asag with obvious revulsion.
***
“Villages of exile? No idea. Must have been formed while my presence didn’t grace these lands,” replied Asag in a sagely, yet arrogantly irritating way when Tyler asked him about the place.
As he shook his head at the daemon’s irritating countenance, Tyler noticed that Hrun again stood apart from the company, keeping to himself. But the mage could sense that the elemental knew something had happened and yet stood uninvolved, giving neither comment nor advice. That by itself was an extremely curious act, given the invaluable assistance the elemental had given him before. Now it appeared that the only help the mage could expect was an expeditious way toward his destination. Not that it wasn’t important, but compared to the level of aid Hrun had given him in the past, it was significantly below what he expected.
“Excuse me for a while, I’ll be back,” said Tyler as he turned and went to the stone elemental. The discussion with Asag and Kobu dealing with their future route and those mysterious villages could do with some knowledge from an ancient being, and Hrun being who he was, he conceivably might have known their nemesis. In that event, then his insight would be invaluable.
“Hello, Hrun,” greeted the mage as he approached. Hrun didn’t say anything, bu
t merely bowed in reply. “I noticed you’re quite alone out here. Why don’t you join us? We could do with advice from you.”
Hrun stared at the young man, regret and sadness reflected in his face.
“A crossroads, a fork of choices;
Meddle me not in the ways
Of a mortal mage, lest the future change,
And darkest oblivion come;
Bringing the cold embrace
Of an empty reality.”
Another bullshit prophecy of doom and such shit again. Serves me right for asking the obvious, noted Tyler. The mage thought it should have been noticeable that Hrun kept apart for a reason. Even the battle between Asag and Gullin didn’t draw him out. The stone elemental clearly took pains in his attempt not to influence the decisions of the party, and for Hrun to stay away, the instruction must have come from a greater power, and Tyler had his own guess as to who it was.
“No shit. Anyway, it’s cool, Hrun. I understand,” replied Tyler and promptly went back to the pair waiting for him.
“Now, where were we?” started the mage when he had reached Asag and Kobu.
Suddenly, a glowing dory flashed through the air and transfixed Asag as the spear with its triangular head tore through the daemon’s torso. Asag visibly flinched but was merely staggered by the impact, though Tyler could see that the weapon immediately turned to sparkling metallic fragments. Three more followed and this time, the combined impact of the weapons flung him back a good fifty yards, his body digging a deep furrow in the ground. Then an enormous explosion marked where Asag stopped.
“YOU DARE SHOW YOUR FACE HERE AGAIN?” came a furious shout, decidedly feminine.
A shimmering figure materialized in front of Tyler, floating in the air about twenty feet off the ground, with its back to the mage. It was armored the Greek way and two large white wings decorated its back.
It was Nike.
Tyler watched in shock as the goddess of victory let fly a few more glowing spears in Asag’s direction, but as he looked up, his eyes immediately saw the underside of the deity.
Fuck me. A freaking metallic bikini. And what a gorgeous ass.
As the confused Tyler stood for a few seconds watching the developing battle, Nike flung another volley of magical dorata toward the location where the explosions erupted. The smoke from the previous detonations had barely dissipated when the new attack struck home. The reverberations finally stirred the mage from his state of combined stupefied surprise and voyeuristic fascination.
As he started to call out to Nike, Tyler glimpsed Asag standing amidst the billowing smoke and flying dirt. He could swear the daemon had a smirk on his face before the haze shrouded the form again. The young mage then realized that Nike was hopelessly outmatched and the only possible reason why Asag had not struck back was the daemon didn’t see Nike as a threat. Considering the terms of their bond, in such a situation, Asag could only attack the goddess of victory if the mage ordered it.
The goddess of victory may have caught Asag by surprise, but there was no way she could take on an entity that fought an ancient draken to a standstill. Tyler then remembered that Asag was regaining his strength and power now that he was free from his long imprisonment. He had to intervene. Despite what the mage believed to be Asag’s limitations, such conclusions were but his own interpretation. He could be wrong and Tyler would have a dead goddess in his presence. No way did the mage want to be the one to explain what happened to Zeus.
“Nike! Stop it!” shouted Tyler.
The goddess looked down and the mage could see the beautiful face torn by intense rage.
“Why, in the name of Father Zeus, would I do such a thing? This abominable beast does not deserve to live!” Nike shouted back, throwing another dory at Asag for emphasis.
“You’re not doing any damage, for one. Look!” replied Tyler, pointing in Asag’s direction.
The daemon now stood in full view with arms crossed and wearing the mischievous smirk the mage noticed earlier. No haze obscured him now, and Tyler didn’t know what had happened to the last magical spear Nike used – it appeared to have dissipated on its way to the target.
“Well, well, well. If it isn’t the gorgeous goddess of victory,” called out Asag with a slight bow. “It’s a beautiful day, but made lovelier by your presence, my dear.”
“What are you doing here, you accursed troll?” asked Nike through clenched teeth. Tyler noticed she didn’t attack anymore, though the mage believed even an idiot could see Asag was unaffected. Thankfully, the daemon had not retaliated.
“Accompanying my master, of course,” Asag pointed to the mage. “I am but at provisional liberty, nearly a doero or a doulos, as you Greeks out it.”
“This vile monster is your slave?” Nike stared at Tyler unbelievingly.
“Ahh… uhmmm… well…,” the young stammered as he tried to find the proper explanation. That Asag was his slave never occurred to him, but apparently making an individual totally subservient to another was slavery in the perception of most of the cultures found on Adar.
For Tyler, it was more of a guardianship with certain limitations, but the distinction clearly hadn’t arisen yet in the social concepts prevailing in his adopted world. On Adar, an entity, mortal or otherwise, was either free or not. Being bound to the wishes of another, apart from the relationships created by obligations imposed by an ancient political system such as kingship and usual cultural norms governing families, the bond between Asag and Tyler was slavery – despite the obvious disparity in power and magical ability.
“Oh, the Archmage is here to ensure that I behave according to my nature. I apologize, that came out wrong – that I don’t overindulge in enjoyable activities. I guess that sums it up. Don’t worry, my beautiful Nike, what happened before won’t happen again. That is, unless my master wishes it,” explained Asag smugly, solving Tyler’s dilemma in the process.
“How have you been, Nike? You are, as I keep on repeating, more gorgeous and beautiful than ever. You know, you were my second choice after Athena, but your pantheon never gave me the chance,” continued Asag, his voice now modulated in a smooth and relaxing way.
At the words of the daemon, a surge of furious energy erupted from Nike. Even though Tyler was some distance from the levitated deity, the mage could feel the outpouring of insulted rage from the goddess. But Nike apparently had learned her lesson as her greatly offended anger was not accompanied by another flurry of explosive magical bolts.
“This monstrous prick is bound to you? Are you serious?” repeated Nike, disbelief still coloring her expression.
“I’m afraid so,” answered Tyler ruefully and he meant every word. “Not that I had any choice in the matter.”
“Hey! No need for insults,” shouted Asag. “I can make mine of any size!”
Disregarding the lewd outburst, Nike stared at Tyler. After a few seconds, the young mage began to worry if the deity would attack him instead. His guides apparently felt the same way as the shields around him began to strengthen.
“This is a matter beyond me,” said the floating deity finally. “I need to consult with Father Zeus.”
Then just like that, Nike vanished, but her disappearance was accompanied by final words of admiration and terms of endearment from Asag. Thankfully, none of them were lecherously graphic. Tyler noticed sniggers from the companions arrayed behind him. They had all gathered while he was busy trying to mediate between Nike and Asag. He looked back and indeed they were positioned in a line-abreast formation to his rear. Only Hrun, as usual, kept his distance. But the mage could see them desperately trying to hold back their laughter.
“What’s so funny?” he asked Kobu.
“A cultural matter, sire. Among the Greeks, publicly describing a man, or an entity in this instance, as having a large peos is an insult. It has been said that having such a large tool is a sign of stupidity, more fit for beasts, not men. That’s one reason why satyrs and other beasts are usually portrayed as having eno
rmous ones, though for the former, it’s a more accurate description,” replied the laughing Kobu.
No shit, thought Tyler. Then a question arose in his mind.
“And how about tongues?” he asked.
“Same as the peos, Greeks prefer them to be portrayed as tiny. What’s important is potency, or the ability to father children. The more, the better,” answered the exile.
“True. Though I really can’t understand it,” commented Asag as he materialized in front of the group. “They seemed to be excited by satyrs at the same time. But what’s her problem? I am a magical being, I can have any size needed. Even two if that’s what she wants.”
Chapter Five:
On the Trail of Titans
Realizing that further discussion on Asag’s peos and its morphing abilities would serve no end, Tyler decided to move the discussion into another direction. He swiftly glanced back at his companions.
“Anybody heard of the villages of exile? And hopefully, know where it is?” he asked the group.
Shaking heads met his question, though he wasn’t surprised. Members of the company were more familiar with Skaney and even if Asem were here, this was Hellas, not Kemet. Suddenly, Hal informed him that H, their vagabond of an intelligence, was already approaching the boundaries of Hellas.
You heard everything? said Tyler.
Of course, sire. A new mission for H? asked X.
Yes, please. Settlements and the like. Add to that the task of noting every strange or unusual matter along our path, though I would appreciate his report on the status of Sutr’s invasion, replied the mage. Tyler knew they were heading in harm’s way, in more ways than one, but it would help greatly if the pugnacious dwarves were still holding out.
According to Hal, H mentioned that the dwarven forces had so far held the fire jotunn’s forces at bay. But even with reinforcements from other dvergar kingdoms, it was but a matter of time before they cracked the defenses like a rotten nut. Sutr’s forces appeared to be endless.
The Accidental Archmage: Book Seven (Dragons and Demons) Page 6