The Accidental Archmage: Book Seven (Dragons and Demons)

by Edmund A. M. Batara

  “You’re not coming?” he asked. “At least up to the exit?”

  “No, Archmage. It is as I said. This is as far as I could go. But worry not, my power goes with you. When rest warrants, a hand raised grants a grace of fifteen minutes,” replied Hrun.

  Tyler looked at his friend. The entity was clearly preparing himself. That was when he became aware of the magnitude of what the stone elemental had to do, the amount of magic required. The distance involved was vast; they had a number of individuals in their party, and unlike the mode of travel used by the likes of Dionysus and even Loki, Hrun’s way involved using his affinity.

  “This is going to drain you badly, isn’t it?” he asked Hrun.

  “I’ll live,” his friend replied simply.

  The mage gave a slight bow. “I am overwhelmed by your gift, my friend.”

  Hrun merely smiled, and waved him deeper into the tunnel.

  ***

  They exited the magical doorway and found the promontory without incident. They couldn’t miss it. It rose above the forest canopy like a balding ruler. Tyler did release a few scrying spells as they walked toward it but found no danger of a magical kind. Yet the magic in the area felt distorted somehow, as if tainted not by only one but numerous, yet minute bizarre flows, an observation echoed by his companions as they neared the intended campsite.

  “Ugh! This place stinks of corruption.” That was Astrid.

  Tyler kept his silence, he wanted to hear what the others would say. Though among the human and demi-humans in the group, Astrid, with her demi-human lineage, would be the most sensitive to changes in the magical matrix of an area.

  “I have to agree with the Valkyrie, sire. Something is wrong about the air in this region. I am not as magically attuned as Astrid, but even I could sense it.” It was Kobu now.

  Tyndur had few words to say. “Smells like rotten eggs.”

  The mage glanced at Asag. Amazingly, the daemon was quiet. Then he caught Tyler staring at him.

  “Yes?” the daemon asked.

  “Do you sense anything amiss about the magic here?” questioned Tyler.

  “Of course, the magic here is corrupted. The scattered villages here, according to Hrun, are full of mad mages and crazy tinkerers. Those idiots by themselves are bad news. They twist, transform, and use magic in all sorts of ways. Add to that those vile necromancers, addled transmuters, and the like. All gathered in a localized area. Hah! A seething cauldron of mad magic,” said Asag in a smug tone.

  “Even a fart here could have magical implications. Somebody could already be trying to make farting a flaming weapon. I wouldn’t be surprised,” the daemon added. “They’ve been exiled, chased, or run from their places of origin for a reason – primarily losing their heads by many varied and colorful means, depending on the village, tribe, town, or city. After the requisite torture, as usual.”

  “I thought you said you’d never been here,” accused the mage.

  “And that’s a fact. The rest of what I said came from my incomparable deductive abilities,” the daemon boasted. “What Hrun mentioned and what we found here. The appellation itself is a give-away – villages of exile. Bizarrely obvious name.”

  “We’ll discuss that later, Asag. The promontory can be seen from here. It does have a commanding view of the countryside,” said the mage, who let loose a scrying spell. This time, the energy showed two massive magical sources heading toward them at speed from the direction of the elevated location they were talking about. They were not there before, and Tyler immediately concluded they must have just come into range. Or smelled food as the party appeared.

  “We’ve got incoming. Two entities, though not deities. Probably magical beasts of some sort, though they appear to be huge and closing fast,” said the mage calmly. “I’ve got no other entities heading for us.”

  What happened next was totally unexpected, at least for Tyler. As he looked on, perplexed about what he saw, all the companions, including Asag but excluding Kobu, who stood beside the mage, started to argue as to who would get first crack at the intruders. Tyndur quickly settled the matter by fishing a coin from his pouch.

  “Coin toss! Last two get the privilege! And no magic, you blasted daemon. We’ll sense it if you cheat,” warned Tyndur.

  Habrok and Astrid won. The mage could hear Kobu snigger as Tyndur and Asag both made their way toward the mage, both spitting expletives left and right at their bad luck.

  “Damn! First fight in a long while and I didn’t get lucky!” Tyndur told the mage before he sat down on the ground. Asag didn’t say anything to Tyler, but also followed suit, grumbling all the time.

  “Blast it. Those magically mutated Amaroks would have been nice,” the mage heard the demon say, though he couldn’t pick up the rest of Asag’s mumbles.

  “I suppose we could do it by rotation, sire,” suggested Kobu just as the mage was going to ask the daemon about the coming creatures. “That way, everybody gets a chance to fight.”

  “You mean they’ve been itching for one? Since when?” asked the surprised and bewildered mage. Who in their right mind would want to fight the kind of beasties here? Oh, these guys.”

  “Since the time they saw Asag and Gullin fight it out. Watching it got everyone eager for a real bloody rumble.”

  “Everyone? Including you?” asked Tyler, now really baffled by the eagerness of the companions to pick a fight.

  “Including me. Though I had that duel with this fellow here, so I am partially sated,” answered the exile.

  “Partially?” the disbelieving mage couldn’t believe what he heard.

  ***

  “The buggers are moving fast. Too fast. They’re halfway to us. Not your average Amarok,” declared Asag, catching the mage’s attention as the latter surveyed the coming battleground.

  “What’s an Amarok?” asked the curious Tyler, continuing his examination.

  “Large, wolf-like, humanoid creatures. I believe I encountered them up north, on the fringes of Ymir’s Domain, somewhere cold and icy. I must admit I am surprised to see them here. It’s quite the distance. Experiments let loose by a frightened master? They ate the bastard? Escapees? But the magic surrounding these examples is corrupted, to use the Valkyrie’s term,” replied the daemon. “Anyway, we’ll see what changes have been made when they arrive.”

  Tyler looked at the probable arena. It was flat but wooded, and trees were close to each other. The lucky pair among the companions were still slowly walking forward, wary about surprises. It was not an ideal place to fight, and a sense of foreboding assaulted the mage. He looked up and saw the afternoon light was already fading.

  Weird, he thought. The night comes too quickly in this region. Not good.

  “Stop! Walk back! Quickly! We need to prepare the ground. Darkness comes too quickly here, and these are not ordinary beasts!” called out Tyler. He quickly turned to the daemon, asking him the distance to the approaching foes.

  “Around half a mile. They’re in a particularly thick patch. Trees flying out of the way. Dumb beasts. All they know is a straight line to their prey. Their relations up north evidently have more brains,” said Asag with dislike .

  “Where up north?” You’ve seen them?” asked the mage.

  “A peninsula. Good eating too. But these ones I wouldn’t touch with a dory. As I said – dumb beasts. Magically scrambled brains. Probably would taste horrible. Poisonous, even.”

  “Can you create a clearing in front of Habrok and Astrid? I want them to have some space,” requested the mage quickly.

  “Let me see,” answered Asag, who stared at the field, clearly feeling out the terrain. Then he turned to Tyler. “How wide?”

  “Enough not to cramp their respective styles.”

  The ground in front of the backing ranger and Valkyrie suddenly shuddered, startling the pair who promptly glanced at their audience. A hand signal from Tyndur and they continued their retreat.

  The soil was slowly replaced by a stone fi
eld, dislodging trees and vegetation. It stopped when a cleared, solid field emerged. Another signal from the einherjar, a low whistle this time, and the duo halted. Tyler appreciated how the daemon replaced the ground. Asag did it gradually, avoiding an abrupt change which could have resulted in localized tremors, possibly injuring the two fighters.

  “Thanks, Asag.”

  “Glad to be of service, Munificent Master,” teased the daemon.

  Tyler ignored the sarcasm. Instead, he told the waiting audience to prepare to intervene if the two approaching creatures proved more than Habrok and Astrid could handle. For the coming darkness, he had already prepared two light spells. But the ominous chill remained.

  “They’re here,” said Asag casually.

  Tyler glanced at the edge of the stone area. Visually, one couldn’t discern the arrival of the beasts. But a quick magical burst revealed two huge animals crouching so low as to be almost prone, and evidently in stalking mode. This close to the Amaroks, the mage could now see more details. The natural color of the animal predators was white. Yet, somehow, it blended with the natural foliage, making it difficult to see them. Their motions reminded the mage of the slithery movements of snakes, not of large cats. And the silent way they crept, avoiding breaking even a single leaf off its branch, was eerie and fascinating. Whatever mutation was done to them clearly enhanced to a supernatural degree their ability to be silent hunters.

  The companions beside the mage could sense the battle was about to begin, and an expectant silence reigned on the small knoll overlooking the arena. Even the daemon was quiet, for once. Though Tyler couldn’t tell if it was because of Asag’s concern for the pair on the field or in anticipation of what was going to happen.

  ***

  A deafening roar from a pair of giant throats startled everyone, the unearthly growl echoing loudly throughout the darkling wood. It was followed by the sight of two lupine forms springing through the air toward the waiting pair of Habrok and Astrid – one for each.

  The mage could now see the beasts, and they appeared similar to werewolves, though closer to wolves in appearance, and the former couldn’t compare to them in size. They were massive white hulks, and their fangs and sharp talons befitted their already impressive size.

  But what caught the eye of the mage was the weird and sickly kaleidoscope of colors defining their aurae. Tyler could also see the beasts were in terrible pain. If they hadn’t been maddened by whatever magical process they had been subjected to, the constant, massive pain would have driven them to become mindless, frenzied beasts.

  Arrows were flying through the air, peppering the left side of Habrok’s quarry with magical shafts of fire and lightning coming from the gift of Quetzalcoatl. Tyler saw the incredible improvement in the ranger’s skill, an ability which enabled Habrok to release arrow after arrow at his target. Habrok’s reaction to the sudden attack also revealed how much the ranger had improved. His reflexes and nimbleness allowed him to easily evade the beast.

  Astrid’s speed also enabled her to effortlessly escape the claws and fangs of her deadly dance partner. Once the Amarok landed with an enormous thud, the Valkyrie was already launching her counterattacks against the right flank of the beast. The mage could see that the Valkyrie started with the joints of the front legs, then the right side, including part of the underbelly, and finished off with another series of slashes with her twin xiphos against the rear leg.

  Tyler then immediately launched his twin light spells, each luminescent ball flying to a point above the eyes of the Amaroks, and then stayed there. Not only would the light allow the two warriors to fight through the darkness of the coming night, but would also hopefully blind the beasts. Then the mage’s eyes fell on the Amaroks.

  Despite everything, Habrok and Astrid had not drawn blood.

  “By the ancient balls of Viracocha! What in Odin’s name just happened?” exclaimed Tyndur as he quickly stood up.

  The mage could feel a sudden surge of magic from Kobu and immediately concluded the exile had brought out his weapon. Only the daemon remained seated, though Tyler observed he had leaned forward, his interest now absorbed by what they had witnessed.

  At the same time, Tyler was taken aback by the new addition to Tyndur’s repository of expressions. It appeared the lower jewels of the ancient deity had been added as a point of reference to the einherjar’s quaint map of parts of gods to be invoked. Yet the mage observed Odin got off easy.

  ***

  Dammit! I underestimated the enemy again. I assumed they were but ordinary magical beasts. But this? It seems like the Void Lands again! inwardly swore Tyler. This is my fucking mistake. Even Asag had better sense.

  “Hah. Knew it,” came Asag’s comment. “They might be abnormally fast sprinters, but they still move like ordinary Amaroks.”

  The mage quickly examined what was happening and saw the daemon was right. The incredible speed which marked the coming of the Amaroks was absent in the way they fought. Then he saw it – the monsters might be unhurt for now, but Tyler saw a substantial reduction in their defensive aurae.

  Fuck. They have personal barriers? the shocked mage concluded.

  Tyler then told the einherjar about what he observed while still concentrating on the details of the ongoing struggle. Though the filter of his focused mind, he could hear Tyndur shout what he heard from the mage, the einherjar instructing the two warriors to continue to whittle away at the beasts’ magical shields.

  “Asag, can you remove the magical barriers of those beasts?” the mage asked.

  “My dear mage, dark is the predominant energy I do use; Yet keep my distance shall I from that sickly, malign, and prurient power. Small it might be, created from vile experiments with powers and artifices most foul, but never would I risk my being and existence with contact with such filth,” said the daemon who was casually leaning back as he sat, both hands on the ground supporting his body.

  Hrun again. Right in the middle of this unpleasant mess. Fucking incorrigible, thought Tyler. At least the elemental’s not here.

  “Should we help?” urgently asked Kobu in a low voice.

  The simple query placed the mage in a quandary. The rest of the companions might not have the same strict perception of honor as the exile. Still, even Tyler knew interfering with a skirmish accepted as single combat by Habrok and Astrid would not be acceptable. On the other hand, he couldn’t just let any of the two die at the hands of the monsters. Then he saw Tyndur looking at him. It was clear the einherjar was waiting for instructions. Tyler subtly shook his head as he quickly made his decision.

  “Only at the last moment. Let’s grant them whatever honor we could give them. But I will never accept the death of any of us again,” answered the mage solemnly. He’d be damned if he’ll have another Jorund on his hands again.

  Tyndur stared at him for a while, then looked past the mage’s shoulder – at Kobu. A brief nod and the einherjar quickly moved from the small mound to a position nearer Astrid. Kobu stepped forward, nearer to Habrok. Tyler glanced at Asag, but the daemon appeared disinterested in the contingency being implemented.

  The pair of combatants were busy continuing to chip at the shields as the partially blinded beasts tried to get their fangs and claws on their tormentors. They were being led on a deadly, circular chase where their primary defense was rapidly being whittled away. Habrok had shifted to alternately using his longsword and bow.

  Tyler himself could see the barriers were already substantially reduced. In a few minutes more, the fighters would hopefully be drawing blood. Suddenly, Astrid’s Amarok halted. It had been fruitlessly chasing after the Valkyrie, its wild swings and lunges missing Astrid by wide margins. It quickly spread its arms and then slammed its palms together.

  Even located some distance from the battle, Tyler felt the force of the sudden action. The waves which spread from the point of origin passed through his barriers and gave him a taste of what was involved. The kinetic pressure he felt was substantial but
not enough to throw to the ground those standing in the audience.

  Unfortunately, it became evident it was intended to have a localized effect. Astrid was violently thrown back a considerable distance by the resulting sonic waves. Even as the Valkyrie flew akimbo backward, a flaming battleaxe was already flying to meet the lunging beast.

  Tyndur’s weapon buried itself in the body of the pouncing creature, throwing it back into the ground. Considering the combined speed of the target and weapon, the mage expected to see substantial damage done to the stunned monster. There was no such thing. What Tyler witnessed was a thin stream of blood coming from the wound inflicted by the battleaxe.

  Shit, thought Tyler.

  “Thick skins. Their master or creator must be one of some ability. Probably dead, too. Nobody would voluntarily let go of such excellent weapons. Or let them go to dispose of the evidence. These kinds of experiments are extremely frowned upon, and I guess that’s the same practice in this area,” clarified the daemon as if giving a lecture.

  “How come? asked Kobu.

  “Even madmen wouldn’t want such crazies made by others running around to threaten their own ventures, or their necks. An unwritten rule of self-preservation,” answered the daemon.

  The mage turned from Asag, Tyler was now ready to intervene with the ranger’s opponent, but he was curious to see what damage had been done, though Kobu was already in a good position. But the additional layer of defense of the monsters – the extremely thick armored skin – was another unwelcome surprise.

  Chapter Eleven:

  Distractions

  He saw Astrid jump on the supine beast and start working on the wound the einherjar’s weapon had made. The monster expired after only a few seconds as the racing blades widened the wound, mangled the insides, and spurted blood all over Astrid. Job done, the blood-covered Valkyrie swiftly left the dead monster, throwing back to Tyndur his battleaxe.