The Accidental Archmage: Book Seven (Dragons and Demons)

by Edmund A. M. Batara

  A region of exiles. Free to do work forbidden in their homelands, or fleeing from changes in the blowing of political winds. Or just plain nuts, thought Tyler. But the atmosphere is becoming polluted. A few generations more and this area would start to become another Barrens, or worse, a Void Land.

  But the more the mage thought about it, the greater his certainty that most of the expensive magical scrolls and items circulating in nearby lands came from the region. It would be an excellent opportunity for the company to do some purchasing, but unfortunately, he doubted if their collective pockets and time would allow such activity.

  Ordering another glass of mead, he sat in a corner, flanked by Kobu. As expected, the exile declined the offer of mead or ale. As he held the glass of liquor, Tyler observed his hand. It was trembling a little.

  My nerves are nearing their limits. At least for today, thought the mage. I doubt I could stand another surprise.

  Then he noticed Asag approaching. What now? was his immediate reaction and then shame overcame Tyler. The being had not even spoken yet, and he was already judging the daemon. He consoled himself with the observation that more often than not, Asag brought headaches to the company, even if the daemon resolved them himself.

  “Can I join you, my lord Archmage?” asked the daemon.

  Tyler nodded though he noted the unusual formality.

  “Something bothers me, Archmage, and you might be able to shed light on such bothersome matters,” started Asag.

  It appeared the jolt of additional energy shook free some of the daemon’s memories. But in bits and pieces, and Asag couldn’t understand them. It bothered him a lot.

  “What do you remember now?” asked Tyler gently, knowing it was a critical juncture for Asag. For the first time, memories directly came back to the daemon’s mind.

  Asag mentioned a memory of waking up in a dark cave. There was no light, not even bioluminescent fungi. He recalled the feeling of being bewildered, lost, and powerless.

  “That must be the time I first appeared in this world. I don’t know if I was born, created, or kicked into existence. But suddenly I was there, and I remember staying there for a long time. A very long time,” said Asag. “Finally, I started moving – as to how, that part was unclear – and then I found myself in a dark hollow full of large rocks. Then I discovered my ability to be a rock and manipulate them.”

  “And your question is?” asked Tyler.

  “Where did I come from?” said the wondering daemon.

  “That’s a question I can’t answer, Asag. Hopefully, more of your memories would start coming back,” sympathized Tyler. He genuinely pitied the daemon. Even now, Asag looked lost.

  “I guess I have to look for more deities to absorb,” mused the daemon.

  “That might be a bad idea. You might compromise everything,” replied Tyler immediately. He wasn’t panicking at the idea, but it was one which Asag had the ability to carry out. Still, he couldn’t have the daemon trying to kill every enemy deity as soon as he saw them. There was a time and place for everything.

  Then Tyler realized Asag could help him out by being the extension of his dark and tempestuous side. He just needed to be careful about it. The mage decided to consult his guides about it. Tyler had to admit the growth of the darkness in his soul frightened him, and he did have anger management issues.

  But who wouldn’t lose their temper on a regular basis on this world? Plans within schemes, traps within gifts, danger within words. Just guarding my ass against being screwed is an extremely stressful exercise by itself, thought the mage with exasperation.

  “Don’t worry, Asag. I’ll take that into consideration. You’ll have your chance to have your fill,” reassured the mage when he saw the downcast expression of the daemon.

  He really can’t do anything without me, and here I am, assuring him of help in etheric cannibalism. This is really a fucked-up situation, thought the mage. Even Tyler was starting to be confused about what he just proposed.

  Your favorite rock daemon

  The room was, as Tyndur said, the barest of the bare. An old wooden bed, a rickety chair, and a simple table with a washbasin. The glass panes in the window were all broken. Instead, the opening was covered with a tattered curtain better suited as a rag. Tyler sighed, while the exile chuckled.

  “We’ve seen worse, sire?” said the exile.

  “Where?” asked the mage.

  “Nature’s Inn, of course,” came the response.

  The mage had to chuckle at that reply as the exile was not prone to making such chestnut statements. Jokes from Kobu were rare and far between. Tyler looked at the bed, hoping it wasn’t ridden with termites – any bedbug with some degree of self-respect would have left a long time ago. He had his private space as an alternative, but that would also mean being cut off from the outside. The mage wouldn’t be able to react quickly if anything did happen. A dome-like barrier covered the inn, but he couldn’t extend it to ground level. It would interfere with the business of the place, and he didn’t want irate, mad mages on his doorstep.

  He pulled out his travel mat and laid it on the bed. At least, the company would have walls and a roof tonight. Looking at Kobu, he saw the exile was doing the same thing though his bed would be the wooden floor. The mage felt a bit guilty, but there was no going around the exile’s insistence he guarded the mage. Kobu merely removed his helm and apparently intended to go to sleep in his armor, though for now, he was busy cleaning it.

  “Let me do that,” said Tyler, releasing a small amount of energy.

  “Ah! It seems like you learned something new, sire,” exclaimed the exile.

  “I did, and learning the skill made me realize how stupid I was,” replied the mage who then recounted how he was able to discover the ability.

  Kobu let out a laugh, and grinned at the mage.

  “Sometimes, what’s obvious might not be apparent to us. More so in my lord’s case. You are a visitor in this world, though you have clearly adopted it as your own. There are matters which might be new and surprising to you, but normal and taken for granted by those who grew up on Adar,” advised the exile.

  “So, what do I do?” asked Tyler. The exile didn’t usually does not give out advice unless asked, and the present discussion appeared to be an exception.

  “Part of your mind must always be detached from any situation. Too much focus would result in losing sight of the small details which are equally important.”

  ***

  Tyler found himself in a familiar, hated wasteland. Thin, gray haze covered the barren landscape, while overhead was the usual overcast and dreary sky. At a distance, he could see the outline of a tall, narrow structure.

  Fuck! It’s the squids again. I thought I had escaped their attention for good! thought the stunned mage. How the hell were they able to find me?

  Despite himself, fear and apprehension rose and stabbed their hungry hooks on his mind. As his dread and anxiety increased, Tyler found the obelisk-like edifice drew nearer to his location. He looked at his feet. They were stationary. The terror was obviously powering his perception of how far the cursed statuary was.

  Damn. This is but a dream, he told himself. Just like the other fucking nightmares. But why do I feel like a naughty kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar?

  As soon as he looked up from the ground, Tyler saw the structure was already right before him, a mere twenty feet away. Shadows were gathered before it. Then one shade moved forward.

  “It took us a long time to find you, Archmage-to-be,” said the entity. The voice, as before, came from everywhere. It wasn’t loud, but its eerie, echoing quality pierced through the young mage’s mind. Whatever mental shield he had was of no use against the speaker’s projection, though Tyler was thankful they still couldn’t read his thoughts. Hal and X would make sure of that protection.

  “You’ve proven to be more resourceful than we thought. Excellent. You’ve progressed, but still have a long way to go. Nor have y
ou freed the real power held within you. No matter, you’ll get to that stage sooner or later,” came the comment.

  What the fuck is this squid talking about? wondered Tyler. Then the realization dawned on him. Shit. They’re talking about the power to destroy. Is that what they want?

  Tyler kept his silence. Given that the shade was in a talking mood, he wanted more information from the speaker.

  “You’re on your way to that idiot imprisoned in that dimensional space. And your romantic dalliance seemed to be a hindrance to your development. The problems you create for us. You cannot be allowed to be a prisoner in that place. That is not part of our plan,” said the shade.

  “How did you find me?” Tyler blurted out. He didn’t mean to speak, but his curiosity got the better of him.

  “A message from someone while we were busy in the southern part of this continent. We didn’t think he had it within him. Finding you again after that promontory was easy,” replied the squid.

  Southern part? They helped raised Xipe Totec? realized Tyler.

  “You raised that ancient Aztecah deity?” Tyler asked, acting on the hunch.

  “Indeed. Our purposes wouldn’t be served by a defeated Aztecah empire. The coming rule of chaos required Xipe Totec,” came the reply.

  “And you sicced those devilish camazotz on us?” added the mage.

  “Not on you. We have judged your companions to be detrimental to your growth. You would do better without them,” answered the shade dispassionately.

  “Well, fuck you! No way I’ll be your stooge!” shouted Tyler.

  “Interesting expression. But you will not enter the Gates of Tartarus. We’ll make sure of it,” came the confident reply.

  The dream swiftly vanished. Tyler found himself awake and sweating.

  What are those damned squids going to do?

  “Troubled, sire?” Tyler heard Kobu’s voice.

  “A dream about a damnable subject I thought I had already resolved,” replied Tyler.

  “Ordinary dreams are nothing to be worried about. Those of a magical origin are the ones that need proper reflection. Especially if it came from an enemy,” said the exile.

  Tyler was intrigued. He had never heard about the subject presently being discussed, and Kobu appeared to have some knowledge about it.

  “You’ve had your share of such magical dreams?” he asked Kobu.

  The exile explained there were two kinds of such nighttime visitations in his homeland, though he was unfamiliar with the practice in the mainland kingdoms. The first usually involved a message sent by an ally or an enemy, the latter being more of an assault upon the confidence of the recipient. Unless one was an adept who knew how to defend against such casting or had the appropriate talismans, the unfortunate dreamer could spend nights having nightmares about what his foe would be doing to him.

  The second kind was more dangerous as it represented an assault on the soul of the dreamer. Whatever was suffered in the dream was manifested in the physical body. Luckily, very few could cast a spell of that nature. As a general rule, almost all the lords and generals of the land of Wa distrusted such practitioners. More often than not, such mages hid themselves as death was usually the punishment. It was understandable, said the exile. The mage one used today might be hired against the previous employer tomorrow.

  “Did anybody try that on you? The second kind, I mean,” asked the mage.

  “Once. I couldn’t wake up immediately, so I fought whatever she sent my way. Only my confidence in my skills saved me. You see, casting such spells is exhausting. Contact had to be maintained, and the mage using it must be able to manifest and control whatever is projected into the dream. In short, I outlasted and bested her,” explained Kobu.

  “What happened after?” Tyler asked the exile. It was an absorbing tale, not only as a lesson in the uses of magic, but also as a facet of the exile’s past.

  “I hired three houses of assassins to get her head. All efforts to be made in the course of one night. The third succeeded. Sometimes, real blades are more effective than imaginary ones, even if magical,” the exile said simply.

  Tyler didn’t answer. He wished it was that simple. These were the squids. Powerful enough to destroy a competing cabal, whose sole survivor was waiting for him on the Isle of Banna. He had made a promise to go to the dying entity. Then the mage reflected he also had made other promises. The one made to the being within the barrier separating the Void Lands from the Barrens, for instance.

  There has to be a way, thought Tyler. The appearance of the squids meant another parade of invasion of privacy incidents, and it wasn’t as if he could sue the freaks. This time, it wasn’t a marker which enabled them to track him, but information from somebody. The squids now knew his general location, and it would be child’s play for such beings to find him within the region.

  Kobu’s solution to such dreams was the man’s confidence in his skill as a warrior. The mage doubted if he could adopt the same approach. He was a capable enough mage and knew he had immeasurable power – if only he knew how to utilize it. So far, it had been a very steep learning curve, interrupted by risky half-assed experiments. That hit-and-run approach wouldn’t work now. A mistake was liable to bring a cataclysm.

  It was with such concerns that Tyler tried to grab what sleep he could.

  ***

  Breakfast at the tavern was good, though it remained empty of guests. The mage reflected that the regulars must come during lunch or early afternoon, and by patrons, he meant the four he saw yesterday. Looking outside, he saw few people up and about. It was plainly a strange village. In other parts of the world, morning would generally be the busiest time of the day.

  Yet his mood had not improved. Aside from the threat mentioned by his dreamscape visitors – which would definitely endanger Eira – he had to consider how to escape being tracked by them. Also, he had Asag to consider. He couldn’t have the daemon’s enemies dropping out of nowhere to ambush them. Still another matter was to ensure those in Tartarus didn’t notice the change in their itinerary; they had to believe the mage was on his way even if they didn’t know where he was.

  The more Tyler thought about it, the more he was convinced the only solution was to shield themselves from those interested in them. It was a solution quite evident from the start. The only problem was he didn’t know how to do it, so the mage had to try to think of other possible answers. Even his guides admitted such a spell was beyond them. Hal also mentioned the bizarre mix of magical energies in the area wasn’t conducive to the casting of regular spells. He was at a dead-end. Then Tyler saw the daemon relaxing in a corner.

  No harm asking him, thought the mage. But he found it strange Asag wasn’t outside the tavern.

  “Can I join you?” he asked the daemon.

  “Of course, Glorious Master,” grinned the daemon. Yet the mage could sense Asag was uneasy. He contemplated asking about it, but reconsidered. He’d later learn about it anyway, and with any luck, not in the form of another attack. Tyler then asked for one of the daemon’s privacy spells.

  “I’ll go directly to the point,” said Tyler. “At this point, we’ll diverge from what our enemy expected. The problem is he knows our starting point. I have no doubt there would be spotters along the route, even if I could not detect any around us. I need a shield to hide the company from our enemies. Including your admirers.”

  Asag didn’t answer and instead looked up. The mage caught a sense of disquiet through their bond, but also felt the daemon had a solution. Comprehension dawned on the mage. The solution had something to do with the entity keeping to the tavern.

  “Dammit, Asag. You do have a solution. I could sense it. Come on, tell me. It’s going to be a race against discovery. We did kill a grandson of that bastard,” insisted the mage.

  “It’s just that I didn’t expect her to be here. I don’t know what she did. Still, it must be a big enough mistake to send her fleeing across the continent,” slowly replied Asag, re
fusing to meet the eyes of the mage.

  “Her? A deity?” prodded Tyler.

  “A human. Sort of. She probably still looks young, but in reality, an ancient being. I doubt if you could call her human anymore. I sensed her presence yesterday,” replied the daemon.

  The mage got his answer as to why Asag was hiding. But it was strange for the daemon to be acting like a guy with a high-school crush. If the woman was an enemy, the mage had no doubt about Asag’s ability to eliminate her. The daemon’s reaction was curiously unlike the Asag he knew.

  “Who is she?” began Tyler. He doubted if Asag would tell everything at once, his inexplicable reticence a clear indicator of what would happen if the mage demanded the entire story. Tyler would just get half-truths and misleading statements.

  “I don’t know what name she uses now. But she’s an ancient being now – full of wisdom for others, yet none for herself,” said Asag, still not looking at Tyler. “Somebody I ran into in the past. A priestess of some obscure cult who somehow obtained the knowledge of summoning me. Wished for the power of prophecy and, get this, immortality. What’s with you mortals and your obsession with immortality? Deities are more or less immortal, and they’re bored to the point of madness.”

  “You granted her wishes?” asked the mage.

  “Sort of. Prophecy is a scam. Nobody – man, demon, or god – could say for certain which of the numerous branches of possible futures would be the definitive one. Not to mention incurring the displeasure of Fate. Now that’s an entity only morons would dare take on. So, the priestess got the next best thing – divination. Funny thing, divination. With enough belief in a magic-filled world, it might just happen no matter how vague the donkey-shit being spouted,” answered the daemon.

  “And immortality?” persisted Tyler.