The Accidental Archmage: Book Seven (Dragons and Demons)

by Edmund A. M. Batara

  Habrok, on the other hand, had not yet disposed of his foe and was still engaged in a deadly cat-and-mouse game. Tyler observed each magical arrow flying from Quetzalcoatl’s gift buried itself in the body of the frustrated Amarok. But ordinary projectiles either bounced or broke once they struck the hairy covering of the beast.

  At least they’re penetrating now, even with such a tough skin, observed Tyler. It could be because of their magical nature.

  But even if the mage saw a noticeable slowing in the monster’s attacks and efforts to avoid Habrok’s assaults, it still was a bizarre and unnerving sight – no blood flowed from the numerous hits. Curious and now reassured by the unengaged Astrid and Tyndur looking on as the ranger pressed his attacks, the mage let loose a burst of magical energy directed against the beast. It was not an offensive spell, but rather scrying for more details. He couldn’t believe all of those arrows didn’t do any damage.

  The echo of the magical burst came back, revealing a beast whose insides were already torn to pieces, except for the area around the heart. Astrid must have savaged that muscle when she ripped into her Amarok as it lay on its back. He quickly called out to Tyndur, telling him to inform the ranger about what he had discovered.

  Habrok immediately changed tactics, rippling arrows into the Amarok’s underbelly from various angles as he moved to avoid the claws of the beast. Again, the mage was impressed by the ranger’s ability to accurately let loose his shafts while tumbling, jumping or leaping. Habrok might be a human, but the mage mused there was nothing mortal about the way he fought.

  Finally, the beast reared on its hind legs, gave a mighty howl, and spread its arms wide. Another sonic attack was coming. As soon as the Amarok was wide open, Habrok suddenly leaped toward it, both hands gripping the longsword. The blade passed through the upper ribcage, and the ranger wrapped up the attack by bringing legs to stand on his opponent’s body.

  Then in a fluid, graceful movement, Habrok brought the blade up, slicing open the beast and tearing its insides apart. When he reached the apex of the action – the moment his sword came out of the body – he flipped and somersaulted through the air and landed on his feet some distance away. The dead Amarok fell back heavily, rocking the ground with its weight as it slammed against the stone floor of the impromptu arena. But the ranger didn’t escape being dirtied by spurts of blood from the monster.

  Everyone stood in shock at the ranger’s audacious acrobatic move. Then the sound of slow clapping came from the rear. It was Asag.

  “Not bad, not bad! Impressive for a human. Though the savage attack of the demi-goddess was also spectacularly to die for. This appears to be quite an interesting trip,” said the daemon gleefully.

  Despite his declaration, the rest of the companions ignored him. While Astrid and Habrok cleaned themselves up as best as they could, the exile and einherjar headed to the mage.

  “If these are the kind of monsters we’ll be facing here, I don’t think we should continue single matches. These are warped beings. No telling what abilities our next enemy or foes will have,” suggested Tyndur.

  “I fully agree, sire,” said Kobu as he arrived. “Let’s cleave through any foes as a group, leave this cursed region, and be on our way.”

  Tyler simply nodded.

  ***

  Darkness had fallen when they reached the promontory, though the trip had been made easier by the trampled route the Amaroks had left behind. The only problem was moving in the dark, with only the light of the pallid moon as a guide. The party had decided to eschew mage lights or torches during the trek, worried about sudden attacks by predators in the dark, mutated or not.

  “What are we afraid of?” asked their company rascal when the suggestion was made. “They’re just beasts or monsters.”

  “Beasts and monsters even you wouldn’t touch,” chided Tyler. “Can you see in the dark?”

  “What a question to ask of a daemon with an affinity for rock,” answered the affronted Asag.

  “Good. You take the front position,” said the mage.

  Asag looked at the mage and then chuckled.

  “Disemboweled with my own traitorous mouth,” he commented.

  ***

  After an hour of walking through the narrow, cleared trail, the company emerged at the bottom of the promontory. It reared as a steep incline and leveled off at the top. Nothing disturbed them as the party made camp on the flat area. But it could be because of Asag sitting on the lower part of the height.

  Only a crazed beast or a more powerful being would dare challenge the daemon. As to what Asag was really doing, the mage didn’t have an idea, but he wasn’t concerned at that point. It was enough that their preparations were not disturbed, and the forest’s dangerous distractions were kept away. Tyler had enough of dangerous things for now.

  The mage stepped to the edge of the promontory and gazed at the view, or the lack of it. Darkness covered the land, and though he noticed tiny dots of light in the distance, it was evident they were indeed in the middle of a vast wilderness.

  Deep inside, Tyler was thankful for the break and relative quiet. It gave him time to think. The mage was surprised Hrun didn’t mention the corrupted nature of the land and some of its denizens. Did the elemental want him to find out for himself? Did Hrun have that much trust in Tyler’s abilities? Was the area toxic to Hrun’s kind? A lot of questions, Tyler reflected, knowing the answers would lead to more questions.

  When he returned to camp, Tyler saw the companions had set up bramble-and-branch barricades guarding the approach to their site. Asag was still where the mage saw him.

  “Did you call Asag for dinner?” he asked the eating Habrok.

  “Said he didn’t feel like it,” answered the ranger, wiping his mouth with a rag he fished from his pocket.

  Tyler knew the daemon had no need to eat, but so far, Asag had taken every opportunity to taste the food. Noticing the party was having leftovers, the mage surmised that could be the reason. Cold leftovers at that in the absence of a campfire – having such a welcome addition would have the unfortunate consequence of attracting predators of every stripe from miles around.

  Even when the party went to sleep, Asag remained in his niche. The mage didn’t bother the daemon. The being must have its own reasons for sitting by himself, though the mage never pegged Asag as being introspective.

  First time for everything, reflected Tyler. But even as a daemon, the mage believed the changes of the present and the consequences of what he had done in the past, for good or bad, were now facing Asag.

  If he cared, the mage thought. The blasted headache could be thinking about a new scheme to amuse himself to the detriment of some unfortunate soul. Hopefully, it isn’t me.

  ***

  Suddenly, the mage saw the daemon stand up. Asag looked back at the group, nodded at Tyler, and abruptly disappeared, an occurrence that had the mage immediately scrying his surroundings. A mass of etheric darkness in the air above them greeted his magical query. To his bafflement, the spell couldn’t tell him what was within the miasma.

  He focused on the bond connecting him to the daemon. A thin, glowing white line appeared in his sight, and the luminous string led directly to the cloud. Through the link, Tyler sensed bursts of energy being released by the daemon, violent magic clearly intended to destroy. But he could feel Asag’s joy in being engaged in combat.

  What the fuck is happening? The all-too-familiar question ran through the mage’s mind. Tyler looked back at the camp. The companions were oblivious to the battle happening on the etheric plane. The foes of the daemon appeared to be on the verge of emerging from their travel to the area, or the daemon just barged into them as they arrived, pushing them back to whatever teleportation or travel tunnel they were using.

  The mage didn’t know how to dissolve the etheric fog or enter the plane where the battle was being fought. Sensing Asag was winning and probably having a lot of fun, Tyler walked back to the group, appraised them on the ongoi
ng situation, and stood with them as they waited for the conclusion of the magical battle.

  After several moments of waiting, Tyler couldn’t help but grin. Through the bond, the mage could sense the outrageous daemon was deliriously happy having all the enemies to himself and was obviously winning. But the mage couldn’t tell if they were after only the daemon, a specific member of the group, or the entire company. Without warning, the cloud disappeared, and a beaming Asag appeared before the group. He was holding something the size of a large ball wrapped in a clingy, dark material.

  “Victorious once again!” announced the laughing daemon.

  “Over what?” asked Tyndur.

  “Camazotz! Death bats! Never thought I’d see them this far north, but I am always happy to send such uglies back to nothingness. There are already too many hideous, malevolent creatures around,” replied Asag. “Here, I brought a souvenir. Though once I open this sack, it will turn to vapor. A damned nuisance. One can’t have their heads as permanent trophies,” said the daemon, throwing what he was carrying to the ground in front of the group.

  Asag stared at the company when he noticed nobody moved to open the small bag. Mumbling, he walked forward and started opening it.

  “This sack is but energy, you know. It’s the only thing which could keep its form when dead,” said Asag as he removed the covering. “They’re but spirits, given form by their master.”

  A large head with oversized pointed ears, and a hellish combination of bat and humanoid features, stared back at the companions with bulging, dead eyes. Even in death, its malevolent and evil nature was evident. Freed from its magical veil, it then started to dissolve quickly.

  “The bastards put up an acceptable struggle considering there were five of them. But it was inevitable they would lose. That one was the last to go, I had to ask him forcefully what they were doing here. I don’t remember having pissed off anybody that far south. Actually, I don’t think I’ve been there,” mused the daemon.

  South? The word stuck in Tyler’s throat.

  “We’ve been there. Fought the Aztecah Empire,” Habrok spoke up.

  “Splendid! That explains it!” smiled Asag. A chuckle escaped him, drawing the attention of the mage.

  “What’s so splendid and funny about that?”

  “Xipe Totec. A name I’ve heard long ago. Unfortunately, somebody named Quetzalcoatl and his band of merry gods got to him first. I’ve always wanted to test myself against somebody with such an appalling reputation. I’ve heard he likes his sacrifices flayed alive first. And with such a terrifyingly appropriate name – The Flayed One. Sounds ominous, doesn’t it? Titans and that fellow. This is such an exciting adventure!” exulted the daemon with a grin as broad as Tyndur’s battleaxe.

  “I thought you said he was gone. Dead,” asked Tyler, terror starting to knock on the doors of his mind. He had always thought the Aztecah episode was behind him, and the Xipe Totec character sounded like the worse of the lot.

  “His worshippers revived him with the help of some busybodies. Rose from flayed, rotting human skin. You don’t want to hear the rest, believe me. But he’s up and about, trying to regain his power, and for some reason, you people really pissed him off,” said Asag indifferently.

  At Asag’s words, the company became silent, each remembering the events of their journey south to bring that empire to its knees. They had believed they had succeeded and now came the unwelcome news of an Aztecah revival.

  “What did I say?” asked the curious daemon, noting the reaction. “And don’t blame me, I just saved our collective hides. Make that your collective hides, except for my master, of course. I am bound by self-preservation to save him. Entities who are pure spirits are greatly difficult to defeat. Not impossible, but a perilous venture.”

  “How did they learn of our exact location?” asked Tyler calmly. It wasn’t a good time to throw a furious fit.

  “That, I forgot to ask. Maybe a little imp told the flayed bastard? Don’t worry about it. His minions are gone, and can’t report back. If he shows his face, then Tyndur can handle him with a sack of salt,” laughed Asag. Then the daemon laughed some more after he realized what he just said.

  The company didn’t react and continued to wear grim expressions, leading Asag to shake his head. He started to return to his position on the incline, but then stopped and looked at the group.

  “You people worry too much. Problems will come when they will, and there’s no point worrying about it. At least now you know about it and could prepare. Me? Hah! Let them all come, I say. I might die permanently, but I’ll make sure to bring some along as company,” said the daemon. Then with a dismissive mortals! he went down.

  “Asag’s right. Let’s handle one angry deity one at a time,” Tyler addressed the company with a forced chuckle. “We’ll worry about it when the time comes. Our plates are already full, and we might have stomachaches if we overeat.”

  “I agree, sire. I hope that Aztecah witch has a sister. My axe needs to test itself on undead Aztecah bitches,” replied Tyndur.

  Habrok and Astrid laughed at the einherjar’s reply, and the trio fell into recounting their adventures. The mage walked back to the edge of the promontory again. If he stayed longer in the company of his friends, his face might betray the weighty concerns suddenly bearing down on him.

  “Worried, sire?” said Kobu. The exile had followed him.

  “Of course, Kobu. Who wouldn’t be? I seem to collect enemies wherever I go. We can now add Asag’s enemy, that dark God of Kemet, and that newly arisen flayed deity of the Aztecah. Will wonders never cease?” replied Tyler, his fury rising. “And right in the middle of trying to save my wife!”

  The mage closed his eyes, trying to keep calm. Yet his body betrayed him. He clenched his fists in uncontrollable fury as he shook from the intensity of what he was feeling. Desperation and anger swirled through his mind as a rapidly growing red haze flowed through him. Dimly, he felt Kobu step back and call him. But the savage fury was not to be denied and now focused on the thought of a new enemy.

  What does the Aztecah want? They want me to eliminate all of them? Leave a freaking wasteland? Tear down the entire shitty place down on their collective heads? The fucking situation’s a cancer! The bullshit just keeps on coming back! Quetzalcoatl and those with him seem to be as useless as fuck. I should have flattened that goddamn capital in the first place! I didn’t want this! All I want now is Eira back, and I can’t even go to Hell in peace! furiously thought Tyler.

  As dim images of a devastated Aztecah empire weaved their way through his imagination, a spark of satisfaction was ignited deep within the mage. Grabbing that welcome emotion, he reveled in it as the imagery of a devastated wasteland filled with ruins, human bones, and burned bodies became clearer. He knew it was a dark and forbidden feeling, but it felt good. As soon as he accepted it, his rage grew.

  Sire! Your energy levels are spiking! Blood pressure is too high! It was X, but he barely heard the guide. His anger shoved the warning aside.

  Suddenly, he found himself traveling impossibly fast through a white mist and immediately reached a familiar location. It was the temple square of the Aztecah capital. The mage could see the religious structures he and Habrok had destroyed. But right in front of him was a new temple being built. Stones from the destroyed ones were being used in its construction, and innumerable people were involved in the work. Tyler could see it was almost finished.

  Looking around, Tyler saw the people around him didn’t notice his arrival. It was as if he was invisible, yet when he looked at himself, the mage could see he was there in his physical form. He hatefully stared at the stone edifice. The mage had no doubt it was Xipe Totec’s new home. The malevolence emanating from it left no room for doubt.

  Instinctively, he reached out to the temple, and felt two massive waves of force following the movement of both hands. Tyler imagined crushing the structure and the now restless energy he had released followed his will. Where he stru
ck with his hands, the magical hammers also pounded. The temple started to shake and then crumble. Large pieces of stone began to fall from the pyramidal structure. People fled in panic, creating a massive wave of humanity fleeing from the destruction.

  As the enormous force battered the temple, the mage felt some resistance to the blows. But the barrier merely stoked his already mindless rage. The strikes became faster and stronger, leveling the structure in a matter of seconds. As he looked at his handiwork, his anger slowly subsided, and as soon as that happened, something quickly pulled him back. Suddenly, Tyler found himself again in the promontory, but he felt extremely dizzy and nauseous. As the world started to spin, the mage felt strong hands catch him as he lost consciousness.

  ***

  Tyler woke up to worried faces watching him as he lay on a sleeping mat. Even Asag was there, but the daemon had a knowing smirk on his face. His throat felt hoarse, and his body, weak. Yet he felt a bit hot as if a fever had just subsided.

  “What happened?” he asked after drinking from an offered water flask.

  “A strong surge of energy. Though it felt like an emotion – incredible anger. Your body radiated extreme heat, sire. Then you collapsed,” said the exile. “It’s now gone.”

  “Hehehe,” snickered the daemon. “That’ll teach the flayed donkey to mess with us.”

  “You saw?” weakly asked the mage with disbelief.

  “Of course, I did. The bond, remember? And it was such a powerful release of magical power. Even I couldn’t do what you did,” replied Asag. Strangely, pride suffused his answer.

  “What happened?” asked Astrid, finally getting to the question on the mind of the other companions. Unfortunately, Asag answered before the mage could open his mouth.

  “Well, our chieftain here got so mad at what the flayed donkey tried to do that he reached out down south and crushed the new temple of his lordship the flayed donkey. Leveled to the ground, with the abomination’s followers all fleeing in panic,” proudly described Asag. “Though if it were me, I’d have included the whole city.”