All the reason to hurry then. That dimensional break is within dwarven territory. I hate to fight twice to get into its location, retorted the mage.
Twice, sire? inquired X.
Twice. We have to fight through the encircling enemy. I doubt if Sutr left a gap in the area facing Hellas which would allow any help. If the dvergar had been overcome, then we would have to battle our way into the depths of the mountain. That part would be a bitch of a fight.
“We do know now the general direction to take,” Tyler announced to his waiting companions. “But I hope we won’t waste time searching for the place. Anyway, let’s take a break before we go north.”
At his words, Tyndur immediately barked out instructions and the mage saw the einherjar was specifying the rest area of each member. In all, the dispositions he made covered the area. The warrior was clearly leaving nothing to chance. Then he saw Hrun give Tyndur two small sacks from which the latter immediately drew out food, distributing them to members of the company. The einherjar hesitated a bit when he reached Asag, but gave the daemon his portion. Tyler smiled at the indecision of the warrior. Even Tyler wasn’t sure whether the entity needed or even consumed mortal fare.
As Tyndur gave him his portion, the mage could see Asag heartily eating the food given to him, and the scene eerily reminded Tyler of what Eira told him – that for magical beings, food was a need borne out of the desire for taste, not sustenance. The magical energy that surrounded them was enough to sustain the existence of gods, monsters, and those of a similar bent. But the mage wasn’t sure whether the forest spirit’s statement included demons and their kind.
“Kobu, would you mind giving me some space? There’s something I want to ask our colorful guest and I fear your presence might not loosen his tongue,” the mage asked the exile.
Kobu just grinned and moved away. Then Tyler called Asag over. As the daemon made himself comfortable, the mage asked if he really needed to eat mortal food. At this point, Tyler wanted to make sure if Eira’s observation applied to beings on the extreme side of the magical spectrum.
“Don’t tell me daemons need to eat like humans,” teased Tyler.
“No, we don’t. Magic is enough. But souls and magic of a certain kind are needed to make most demons become more powerful. Not that I need such crutches. I am what I am, and that is enough. Mortal food does add spice to a monotonous diet,” answered Asag, tearing away at a roasted chicken leg.
Eira was right. Though that part about souls and magic of a certain kind was new to me. But considering the nature of these entities, in hindsight, my question sounded stupid, observed Tyler dryly. I must be getting dumb. Possibly all those hard knocks.
“So why did you call me over? You even had that shadow of yours keep his distance,” mumbled the daemon through a mouth full of food. Tyler could see pieces of chicken flying through the air as Asag spoke.
“It’s about that slave bond you told Nike. You were serious about that?” asked the mage.
“Well, I did say near to such a relationship. I didn’t say I was a slave. See how even gods and goddesses don’t know how to listen? A small word, but a world of difference. Personally, I would like to believe I am a Patroklos to your Achilleus – a therapon, or a squire, though in a more constrictive and if I make a mistake, fatal, relationship,” replied Asag with a chuckle. Then he stopped and looked at the mage with a mischievous glint in his eyes.
“And I am not, I repeat, not, alluding to those innuendoes about the sexual relationship between those two. I swing only one way, and as magical beings could change forms, make that – I only swing toward one form,” continued the daemon, pointing the chicken leg toward the sky for emphasis.
It was distracting for the mage to be talking to Asag in such a manner, but the mage blamed the chicken. He doubted if Asag had been allowed the liberty of experiencing eating in such abandon during his long period of imprisonment.
“What would happen to you if the worst happened? If I did die?” asked Tyler curiously. The young mage had no illusions about that possibility. From what he had painfully learned through moments of astounding lucidity and sheer terror, being an Archmage, with a second course in Elder magic, was an extremely high-risk educational process and profession.
Asag slowly put down the half-eaten food, gazed at the sky for a time, and then looked at the mage. His face was serious and colored with uncertainty. A dark shadow of fear quickly passed through his eyes as he answered the mage.
“I don’t know. I really don’t know.”
Tyler studied Asag closely. He couldn’t believe what he had just heard. A being as powerful as the daemon saying it didn’t know the effect of Tyler’s death on him? The pantheons and most of the magical beings on Adar knew they’d return to the ether, the magical energy which shrouded Adar, when they passed away, and yet Asag, for all his knowledge and experience, was now saying he wouldn’t be sharing the same fate?
“Huh? I thought you just went back to being part of the magic of this world, Asag. What makes you different?” asked Tyler, quite satisfied with the course of the discussion.
“I don’t remember, Archmage. All I know is that my powers grow stronger the longer I am free to roam Adar, and maybe, just maybe, my memories would return in time. But it has been quite a while and I don’t still have a clue. Unless, of course, you could call my natural tendency for fun and games a clue,” slowly replied the other.
He calls it fun and games. Well, it could be that where he came from, thought Tyler.
“What do you think would happen if I died?” continued the mage.
“Back to my prison, maybe? In that event, possibly a worse one if I let anything happen to you. Or I could lose all form and substance and be cursed to wander this world as a ludicrous and helpless phantasm. Now that would be Hell for me.”
“Your previous captor could do that to you?” said Tyler. He could imagine the kind of power able to bend Asag into such a state.
“That, and worse, if it so desires. The very fabric of the magic of Adar bows to its whims and wishes. The presence of everything from your world is but tolerated by her, for whatever reason I can’t even begin to fathom,” replied the daemon in a low voice.
Her. Tyler already knew what the daemon was talking about and had even met the avatar of the entity described by Asag. But it was a secret known only to the mage, and Tyler suspected such knowledge was bound to his very soul. No mere magical effort by any pantheon or being, or even a collection of such entities, could pry it out of him. Yet the daemon knew of its existence.
“All I could say, my daemon of a friend, is that given what you have told me, you better make sure I don’t die. But from what I have already seen of your popularity, you’re going to be one busy daemon,” said the young mage with feigned levity, coupled with the obligatory forced smile.
***
The party was forming up when Hrun went to Tyler. The mage was surprised at the approach of the elemental, given the non-interference commitment of the being.
“Archmage, a word?” said Hrun.
“Of course, my friend,” replied the mage. “What is it?”
“A choice you must make; a village or the mountains where war now reigns,” was the elemental’s reply.
“Can’t you bring us to the village and then to our destination?” asked Tyler. He didn’t think it was that big a deal. A few hours in the villages of exile, if Hrun knew where it was, and then off to the dvergar stronghold.
“A power prevents mine eyes from seeing your exiles, and to help you depart from such a place is fraught with dire consequences,” answered Hrun, dashing the mage’s expectations. “My assistance is yet unknown to your foes and were your enemies to learn about it, an avalanche does a rolling stone make.”
“You mean you can only bring us to one place, but not to both. But that’s a decision I can’t make by myself,” said Tyler.
The impromptu council of war resulted in Habrok, Asem, and Asag wishing to go direc
tly to the dvergar, though Tyler suspected that in Asag’s instance, it was because of the ongoing warfare and bloodbath. Kobu kept quiet as the rest presented and defended their suggestions – the principal underlying reason presented being the fact that the villages of exile were mentioned by their enemy.
“How about you, Kobu? You’ve been quiet,” the mage asked the exile.
“Sire, war is a continuing series of moves and countermoves. But if there is one thing I have learned from countless campaigns; it is the rule that one has to know one’s enemy. I doubt if the village is a trap, as our foes would have dealt with us right here. This Dolos character might be able to give us knowledge we need, unwittingly, of course,” replied Kobu thoughtfully.
“Dolos?” Astrid voiced up. “The Greek god of trickery. Not as bad as the one in the Norse pantheon, but still a sleazy and untrustworthy character.”
Tyler thought about what Kobu and Astrid had said. Kobu was right, of course. His statement reeked of Sun Tzu, but it was to be expected. Warfare in the Lands of Wa was bound to be influenced by the battle doctrines found in the nearby Empire of the Zhong. But another god of trickery as Iapetus’s butler was not totally unexpected. Still, Tyler felt insulted.
The question though was the state of the defenses of the dvergar. If they were in danger of collapsing soon, then the mage would have to forego any pitstop. He had to admit he was greatly interested in meeting Iapetus’s agent and learning what he could, provided he didn’t lose his temper and bash the creature back to the magical haze the bastard came from.
He looked at Hrun. If there was anyone who could give him an accurate picture of the situation facing the dwarves, it would be the elemental. But Tyler hesitated, thinking about the new constraints imposed on the entity. There was no use asking a question you knew wouldn’t be answered anyway, even when the denial was accompanied by profuse apologies. Tyler turned to Asag.
“Any possibility you could see what’s happening with the dvergar?” he asked.
“Ah, even if I was at the height of my power, the very lands have changed. Unfamiliarity and the unknown limit my magic,” replied the daemon.
“I see. Seems we have to do this hard way. In short, wing it,” said Tyler.
“Wing it?” Habrok asked curiously.
“Improvise. The term is a First World expression,” clarified the mage.
“Now that’s a curious expression. I can’t see the relation between birds and improvisation,” commented Astrid.
“Forget it. It’s but a phrase,” dismissed Tyler, wary about further delay arising from a vigorous discussion about semantics and language. He turned to Hrun.
“Please tell me when we’re approaching the boundaries of the forest, Hrun. I have something to discuss with you. I assume there’s no problem with that?” he asked the elemental.
“Not at all, Archmage. Like a warrior’s blade, a plan needs polishing, lest the sheen of a death shield replace a rusted sword of war. Final plans you could make there. Prepared are you and your company?” Hrun’s reply came in the form of a question.
Tyler looked around. The company was ready. He nodded, only to be suddenly assaulted by a brief sense of disorientation. For a few moments, his vision blurred and vertigo started to creep into his befuddled mind. Then just as suddenly, the uncomfortable sensations were gone, and the mage could feel solid ground under his feet.
Bleary eyes sought out the elemental as Tyler tried to regain a sense of balance. Hrun was standing where he was, and the mage could see that the rest of the party, except again for Asag, were all trying to recover from the effects of the sudden transition.
“We could have done with some warning, Hrun. That was too… abrupt,” Tyler blurted out.
Hrun stared at the company. Habrok was particularly affected, visibly struggling to keep his stomach in check. Astrid and the exile were back to their normal selves, a rapid recovery the mage attributed to their familiarity with magical means of transportation.
The stone elemental’s means and manner of transport was admittedly crude compared to what the mage had experienced at the hands of other deities. But Tyler concluded it must be caused by the elemental’s relative unfamiliarity with traveling in the open. His previous experience with Hrun’s ability through rock and stone was smooth and pleasantly absent of any side effects.
“Apologies, mortals. Betrayed I am by open fields and forest green. Rock and stone make mine home, and my experience is sadly lacking outside comfortable and familiar places,” Hrun apologized as he bowed.
“Habrok, Astrid. Please look around for tracks and clues. The Titans passed this way and we might be able to pick up something. I have a matter to take up with Hrun,” said Tyler.
“How about me?” asked Asag.
“You are a lot more prepared to track down matters relating to magic. These two would need your help,” replied the mage. The daemon’s presence was the last thing he wanted while talking to Hrun.
Tyler looked at the stone elemental and nodded. The two walked toward a different part of the woods though Kobu followed from a respectable distance. The mage had thought about asking the exile to stay, but immediately gave up the idea. Kobu was indeed his shadow and certainly wouldn’t budge considering they were in an unknown part of the forest. The warrior didn’t care that Hrun was there. It was his duty and a matter of honor.
Suddenly, the three found themselves in a large hollow. The transition was instantaneous, and a lot smoother than what had happened on the surface. The cave was brightly lit, by what means, Tyler couldn’t tell. But the space oozed with magical energy, though now the young mage could sense a subtle difference – a stronger, unusual undercurrent ran through the energy overlay.
“I assume Asag couldn’t hear us here? Much less follow us?” he inquired of the stone elemental.
“No, Archmage. Far more powerful magic is lent to this simple form. Try as that daemon might, even at his best, neither ears nor eyes can see or hear us here,” Hrun laughed in his odd, grating voice. “So, the village it will be?”
“Yes, Hrun. Though your correct guess just shows how well you know me by now. I surmise you’ll just be opening the way and won’t be anywhere near our destination?”
The stone elemental grunted his affirmation.
“A risk too great; a gathering of powers; exiled they might be, but it’s enough to give even Iapetus pause. No master do they accept but themselves, and no power do they seek except for knowledge,” continued Hrun. “For most, at least.”
“They’re powerful and you don’t want to be tracked,” clarified the mage, reducing to a simple sentence Hrun’s concerns.
“That, and most be as mad as horny demons, diseased monkeys, and raging goats combined.”
“Huh? That bad? Anyway, that means you’ll be staying on Fossegrim or near here, right?” asked Tyler. A query to which the stone elemental nodded his affirmation.
“That’s good. I have a request to make of you, my friend, and no, it doesn’t have anything to do with our current undertaking,” said Tyler, a statement which only got a squinting eye from Hrun as a response. If the being had eyebrows, they would have been raised noticeably.
Tyler then explained that he had with him a magical spark of Eira’s magic which had gained sentience, and he suspected she had the same abilities and preferences as Eira with respect to nature. Suddenly, he felt the staff grow warm and the mage immediately shifted his consciousness into it. He wasn’t worried about the time spent within the artifact. As Birki had mentioned, time passed slowly in the world inside the object.
“Good tidings, sire,” greeted Birki, the guardian of the staff’s portal.
Tyler felt the greeting was too formal, and guessed the spirit was still grieving over the passing of Rumpr. Not that he could blame him. The mage also felt the same void inside him whenever he thought of the diminutive earth elemental. Rumpr brought that much-needed ray of sunshine into dismal moments, and his common-sense attitude, as well as hi
s humor, would be missed a lot.
“I won’t say anything about Rumpr, Birki. We all felt the enormous loss arising from his fall. But he wouldn’t want you to be like this – so hurt, so nearly fallen into the edge of despair,” said Tyler softly.
“I know, Archmage. It still just hurts so much,” answered Birki in a low voice.
“That’s to be expected, but remember you still have a family supporting you and needs you to look after them. We’re all waiting for you to do your part,” the mage told the elemental, his tone slightly hardening.
Birki looked at Tyler and then smiled.
“You’re right, sire. And one way to honor my father is to look after these children. Oh, and they’re still a handful when you’re not around, but they’ve finally moved their magic-throwing outside the keep.”
Tyler grinned. Now, that sounded more like the Birki he knew. The guardian looked at him and then knowingly smiled.
“Let me guess. You want to talk to Vivindel.”
“You read my mind,” replied the grinning mage. “It’s time for her to be out where her abilities could grow.”
“Ah. Exactly what I was thinking. But you better make time to visit your other wards, Archmage. They know about Eira and what you’re doing now so they go out of their way not to take up your time. Yet even a short appearance would make them feel better,” advised Birki.
“I know. Believe me, I know. But things are moving too fast.”
“Your call, lad. Let me fetch her.”
To say Hrun was surprised when Vivindel appeared beside the mage would be an understatement. He kept on looking at Tyler and then at the forest spirit. Finally, Tyler stepped in and introduced Vivindel to Hrun. Then the small child-like spirit saw Kobu and clapped her hands with delight.
“And Uncle Kobu is here!” Vivindel called out.
“Hello, princess,” said the exile with a smile, and Tyler could see the man’s joy was genuine. It was a side of the warrior he had never seen before. Evidently, Kobu had a soft side for children.
The Accidental Archmage: Book Seven (Dragons and Demons) Page 7