The Accidental Archmage: Book Seven (Dragons and Demons)

by Edmund A. M. Batara

  It was an answer which further confused the mage. The Oracle’s personality appeared to range from admirable empathy to incredibly furious wrath. If he didn’t know better, the mage would say Thyma suffered from an extreme case of bipolar disorder.

  But she was a deity, and most human ailments couldn’t be attributed to them. For Tyler, almost all of them could be divided into only three kinds – lucid, mad, or outright psychotic. There might be sub-classifications, but that was beside the point.

  As they walked, the mage started to feel a strange aura surrounding them. Glancing at Thyma, the woman winked at him. Asking his guides, they confirmed a deity’s energy signature had been released around the company, though the chaotic nature of the region’s magic was distorting it. But it was enough to shield the company from unwelcome eyes.

  After an hour of travel, enormously helped by the Oracle’s knowledge of the terrain, the party took a break. Tyler could still feel the corruption in the air, which meant they were still in the region of the exiles.

  During the short pause, Thyma warned about animals corrupted by the magic of the area. She herself had some power over ordinary animals, but not over those unfortunate enough to be magically debased.

  “Animals? Including predators?” asked Habrok.

  “Of course. Ordinary animals and some of the magical kind, particularly those with serpentine origins. I had a snake guardian once… it was killed by one who broke into my sanctuary,” replied Thyma in a halting fashion.

  “How about drakes?” continued the ranger, the question eliciting a muffled laugh from Astrid.

  “Only if they’re the descendants of those who crossed over from the First World,” clarified the Oracle.

  “Drakens?” persisted the ranger.

  “Ah. You’re talking about a race. A mighty and ancient one. They are not beasts, though many don’t bear any love for god or mortal. Older than gods, the first-born, wise beyond compare. But even that race had been debased. Unfortunate,” came the reply.

  “Damn…” muttered Habrok to the amusement of his sister-in-law who finally broke out in laughter. Fortunately for the ranger, Astrid didn’t make a verbal jab at the kind of questions he had been asking.

  It took the party about an hour more to reach the boundaries of the land of exiles. Before them stood the tall, forbidding peaks that marked the start of an arduous journey to the land of the dwarves. But the shortness of the trek surprised Tyler. He had expected a passage of several hours. The last time he experienced such a shortening of time and distance was when he was in the Dorian Hills. He looked at Thyma.

  “Your doing?” he asked. He knew Thyma understood what he was talking about.

  “I thought you wouldn’t notice,” laughed the Oracle, in a thankfully age-appropriate voice. “It was getting boring. All work and no play.”

  “I agree,” added Asag, who suddenly appeared beside them.

  Don’t tell me she also craves battle, thought the mage. I guess I have the most eclectic war-crazy bunch in Adar.

  Chapter Seventeen:

  Another Old Man

  The mage looked at the narrow and winding trail leading up the mountain. It was a bare excuse for a path. In a few places, two could fit abreast, but it was a dirt track fit for one person, less than that in sections where part of the trail had collapsed. It didn’t look inviting at all.

  “Looks unused and forgotten,” Tyndur’s comment reached his ears.

  “But to me, the mountains look welcoming. As close to home as I could get. The solid and reliable feel of rock, with its immutability, save for the invasive dwarven pick or a sledgehammer. There’s nothing like it,” wistfully proclaimed the daemon, continually staring at the waiting mountains.

  Tyler thought about his options. It wouldn’t do to survive everything and yet be killed by a misstep on a godforsaken trail. He surveyed the barren scenery again, and the dreary sight of tall peaks greeted him once more. All around them, except in the direction of the woods they had passed through, was more of the same.

  He glanced at Thyma and was about to ask her a question, but the shaking head stopped him. The Oracle knew what he was going to ask.

  “No, it wouldn’t work here. On the plains, hilly terrain, even a forest, anywhere one has the opportunity to see where one wants to go. One could climb up a hill or a tree and see what lies ahead. That does not apply here. Too many curving paths, rocks in the way, steep cliffs. It’s too dangerous. You might end up falling to your deaths,” explained the Oracle. “I’m sorry.”

  Me and the rest. Of course, these two won’t die. Silly me, thought the mage cynically.

  The mage nodded, thought about other options, and found none. He didn’t know how to cast Hrun’s spell of travel. The teleportation ability he had was only good for short distances and not for use with a group. Then the mage remembered the guardian within the staff.

  “Birki? You think Vathys knows Hrun’s travel spell?” he asked hopefully.

  “I don’t think so, lad. It’s an advanced spell, and from what I know, the person casting has to know or has been to the proposed destination,” answered Birki.

  “It’s a long and dangerous slog then,” replied Tyler with dismay. But he was half expecting such an answer from the guardian.

  “We could make sure the path is buttressed with stone as you travel through the narrow trails. Just make sure you hold the staff in a forward position – like a crutch. That way, we could see where you’re going, and the boy can sense the kind of rock supporting the way,” suggested Birki. “The boy’s going to be exhausted, so please make sure to take breaks from time to time. There’s bound to be flat, cleared areas up ahead.”

  “Thanks, Birki, and tell Vathys I highly appreciate what he would be doing,” said the mage.

  Then Birki offered to ask Nehua if she’d be willing to scout ahead of the company. The mage immediately refused to consider the idea. Even with his ability to scry, Tyler said he didn’t trust the look of the mountains, and there was always the possibility she might encounter something beyond her capabilities.

  “Your choice,” said Birki. “Let me get the boy. The rest would be so jealous again. You can’t imagine how I get pestered with requests to ask you about how they could help.”

  “Tell them to do well with their training. I have a feeling that opportunity is nearing,” answered Tyler. “I can’t do my job all by myself, and I expect them to be beside me when the time comes.”

  ***

  March order, upon the mage’s insistence, was drastically changed. Asag was now in front, the mage after him, then Kobu, the Valkyrie, while Habrok and Tyndur covered the rear. Tyler asked for a maximum of three feet distance between the companions and then cast an overhead barrier.

  Despite the assistance of Vathys, the mage asked Asag not only to watch their front, but also to repair the track. The stone spirit within the staff was to check what the daemon had done. It would ease the strain on the boy, and hopefully, Vathys would secretly learn something out of how Asag manipulated rock. It was not that the mage didn’t trust Asag, but the daemon had a worrying tendency not to pay attention to crucial details.

  It was, as Tyler expected, a wearing trek. Going up steep inclines while carefully watching where one’s feet landed drained a man’s stamina and strength faster than a trek downhill or across flat, rocky terrain. A few hours later, they came across a large flat area full of ruined structures along the sides of the trail. The collapsed and eroded walls and buildings were made of stone and clearly had been abandoned for a long time. Only the vertical vestiges of the ruins indicated it was once a place of activity.

  Tyndur walked to one crumbling structure which had a small stone pillar just outside what appeared to be its main door. The party halted, and while the einherjar was busy, Tyler did his check. Asag, on the other hand, idly repaired one structure, recreating the walls and roof.

  Nothing magical registered in the quick scrying spell, except for a few dreki just
up ahead. There wasn’t anything unusual about the beasts, nor did they pose an immediate threat. Tyler then saw the einherjar walking in his direction.

  “An old dwarven smelting camp. Dvergar. They probably smelted the ore here and sent the finished product to their kingdoms. I saw the marks of not only one, but of several dvergar houses. It could have been a meeting point for their mining and merchant guilds,” reported Tyndur. “We’ll probably see piles of slag if we look over the edge of this clearing.”

  “It appears to be a good place to rest for a while,” commented the mage.

  “Yes, sire. A good place to defend, there’s ample room. If anybody were following us, they’d make their move here. I’ll take care of it,” said the einherjar.

  Tyler sat on the remains of a destroyed wall and surveyed the scene. The companions were busy as usual. Asag stood on the trail they came from, and Tyndur guarded the exit. Astrid and Habrok took care of camp preparations. Thyma, on the other hand, was walking and idly looking over the ruins, though the mage could see her surreptitiously letting plants and flowers grow on the derelict structures and abandoned yards.

  It was as peaceful a scene as the mage could expect, yet a strong sense of uneasiness bothered him. The mage knew precisely what the cause was – the reaction he felt when Asag declared chaos as the primal force behind everything. Tyler didn’t expect something within him would be so receptive to the idea.

  “Guys, I felt something reacted when the daemon was talking about chaos. Why is that? It’s the first time I’ve experienced the feeling, and it bothers me. A lot,” asked the mage.

  It took a while for either guide to answer, and Hal got to be the bearer of bad news. The darkness within the mage had gained strength, especially after that incident with Xipe Totec’s temple. That destruction involved a lot of magical energy and not surprisingly, fed the waiting black ember within the mage.

  “Why? I have used magic before, in battle and other confrontations. What makes that so different?” asked Tyler.

  “It was born out of mindless anger, and the release of power wasn’t even through a spell. It was an exhibition in the use of pure magic for utter destruction. At that point, somehow, you tapped into the matrices of Adar’s energy. You could have turned the entire empire into a wasteland or buried it under the sea if you wanted to, but then, the entity you keep behind the gates of your mind would be free,” answered X in a subdued tone.

  “Now that’s a load of crap. You mean to tell me that in the worst possible situation, I have to keep calm and not get angry? What do you want me to do? Sing Kumbaya to people and entities trying to curse, burn, or skewer me?” protested the mage.

  “We did say mindless anger. Fury can be focused and directed, sire. When you use it that way, your spells and even the raw power you release become an extension of your ability to create,” replied Hal. “And we know what Kumbaya is. A song of peace, if we got the memory right. Though we don’t think that would work.”

  “And you tell me this only now? Don’t answer that. I do remember you telling me about asking the right questions. Damn.”

  ***

  After the brief break, the journey continued, though the mage noticed that by the time they left the abandoned outpost, it wasn’t barren anymore. Hardy flowers and vegetation filled the hollow. As a result, Tyler could sense the companions warming up to Thyma. The daemon, on the other hand, initially had drawn their approval by rebuilding a few shelters, until he got bored and then tried to see how far he could throw boulders, with the neighboring mountains as his practice range. The einherjar’s protests were disregarded with a comment about the mountain giants getting blamed for the rock avalanches.

  Surprisingly, Tyler’s scrying before they left the site revealed the dreki were nowhere to be seen. As he wondered about it, Thyma tugged at his arm and whispered that she had sent them away. She didn’t want any of the beasts hurt by an accidental encounter. The mage just nodded, again confused and bewildered. If the mage hadn’t seen the Oracle at her worst, he would have thought he had a gentle nature spirit with him.

  Tyler did notice that where the narrow trail was straight, the company found themselves quickly at the end of the stretch. Such incremental speeding up of their passage greatly helped, and the company suddenly found themselves already nearing the peak of the first mountain in the range. They paused and surveyed the magnificent views on both sides. But for the mage, his enjoyment of glorious spectacle was but momentary. In the distance, his enhanced vision could pick up flying specks grouped in large packs. It was a warning that got him worrying about how to fight off attacks by airborne predators while the company was spread out along a narrow trail, with a swift death waiting for the crucial slip, never mind the fangs and claws.

  Tyler sighed and doublechecked the shield again. It was the only thing between them and an undetected attack. It would have been better if the attacker was entirely magical in origin as the spark which the scrying spell would reflect would show up bigger and brighter. For ordinary beasts and creatures, their magical signatures were all the same. The mage had not developed the spell to the degree it could distinguish between different animals with an acceptable degree of detail. Considering each and every creature on Adar was permeated with the magic of the world, it was frustrating.

  As the company moved down the mountain, Tyler saw the dirt track clearly led down to a small open space and then wove its way up again. He called out to Tyndur to arrange a brief rest in the waiting dell. The mage needed to think about the way forward. The road ahead appeared to be infested by beasts, and he needed everybody to know what their roles would be in the event of an attack. As they neared the proposed rest area, the mage could see that to the side of the clearing was another of the dwarven markers, larger in size this time, and beside it was an extremely tall old man.

  A hermit, by the looks of him, but clad in a gray robe, and for a recluse, he looked remarkably well-groomed. His dark gray hair was neatly tied at the back, and the beard was perfectly trimmed. The elderly entity even had leather sandals that looked to be of exquisite craftsmanship. He didn’t have any staff but stood with crossed arms and wore a worrying scowl. Tyler could see the massive muscles of the biceps of the man, and his overall musculature was intimidating.

  But what astounded the mage was there was no sign or warning of his sudden appearance. Tyler immediately did the next best thing. He cast a scrying spell on the old man, and a violent magical feedback threw him back a few feet, directly into the arms of Asag who now took up the rearguard. As the mage tried to recover from being stunned, his dazed eyes could see the companions spreading out and getting ready for battle.

  Then he dimly heard Thyma cry out for the companions to stop. Amazingly, everyone found themselves unable to move, except for Asag who continued to walk forward, cradling the recovering mage in his arms. Then Tyler saw Thyma step forward and curtsy.

  “My lord,” said the Oracle in a reverential tone.

  “My lady. Hail and a pleasant day to you,” replied the old man.

  ***

  Tyler cast a healing spell on himself and then struggled to get down from Asag’s arms. The daemon strangely looked at him and asked if he was alright.

  “Damn straight, I’m fine!” answered the mage crossly. Somehow, he got the impression the daemon didn’t want to let him down.

  “You’re sure? Because for a First Mage or Archmage – titles again, so confusing – you seemed so fragile,” replied Asag. The mage had an immediate retort already on the way but held back. The daemon was genuinely concerned.

  “I’m fine, Asag. Just let me down,” he told the entity calmly.

  “If you say so, I couldn’t understand how you couldn’t withstand the effects of your own spell. But then again, my knowledge of mortals was really not one of my better abilities,” replied Asag as he released the mage.

  To Tyler’s embarrassment, both the old man and Thyma were watching them. A situation not helped by the apparent effo
rts of the Oracle not to laugh out loud. The old man, in turn, was observing him carefully, and the mage could sense curiosity mixed with a high degree of irritation directed at him.

  “Thyma? Our companions?” Tyler reminded the woman.

  “Oh, right. My apologies,” said Thyma as she stamped her right foot.

  Yet as the rest of the party was released from the spell, the mage couldn’t help but reflect on how powerful Thyma was. Stopping everyone in their tracks was an ability Tyler thought was still way beyond him, and he had not seen Asag display a similar skill.

  “Allow me to introduce my companions, my lord,” Thyma started. As the introductions began, Tyler couldn’t figure out why the Oracle would be so deferential toward the old man. If he was a deity, then the entity was unlike any other. Tyler couldn’t even get a reading on the man’s aura.

  “My thanks, Thyma, is it now? An unfortunate choice of a name, but it’s your decision. And you don’t have to include that big troublemaker over there. I had enough headaches and excitement the last time I saw him,” the elderly man replied grouchily.

  The last time he saw him? That must be a millennium ago! At the very least! thought the astounded mage.

  Thyma continued to introduce members of the party. Yet when she finished, Tyler noticed she didn’t mention the old man’s name, not even by a nickname. Tyler wasn’t slighted as he believed Thyma had her reasons. Still, the mage felt constrained to politely inquire about the name of the newcomer.

  “Names! Names! Names! Why are you people so obsessed with names? As if I would remember them after a century or two! And even if given one, you mortals are apt to mangle it or come up with your own descriptive and usually insulting versions. So, what’s the point?” grouched the hermit again.

  Then he scrutinized Tyler, and shortly gave a snort which the mage interpreted as vague disapproval.