The Accidental Archmage

by Edmund A. M. Batara

  Soon, only Kobu remained at the scene of the fight, bathed by the light of Tyler’s spheres. When the exile noticed the mage still watching him, he turned in Tyler’s direction and bowed from the waist.

  Tyler bowed back, mindful not to bend his body to the same extent. He knew the respect shown him by the exile was that of a subordinate to his master. Thank God for those old samurai movies on the net!

  His companions, on the other hand, had started going back to the temple. He made to follow them, but Asem quickly went to his side.

  “A word, sire, if you please,” said the High Priestess of Thaut.

  “Of course, Asem. Anytime,” he replied. While talking to Asem, Tyler saw Habrok and Asem had already entered the barrier. The priestess indicated that they both sit down.

  A discussion. When will this day end? The mage considered with some irritation.

  “Sire, forgive me for being presumptuous, but I believe there is a matter which you have to discuss with your companions. These warriors have tied their fate to you, knowing that death could come at any moment. For you, we have agreed to face the unknown. Mighty creatures and beings have risen as our opponents. Impossible situations had been foisted on us. We look up to you as our leader in this journey and implicitly trust your judgment and actions. It will not do our company any good if you try to conceal threats from us. You might see such dangers as personal ones, directed against you. But we are your companions, and we will be in the direct path of an assault on your person.”

  Tyler gave a remorseful smile. “I know what you are referring to, Asem. Now that you mention it, there are several issues which I think our company should be aware of. You’re right though. But in my defense, I thought keeping it to myself would protect all of you. A misguided course, perhaps, but done with altruistic motives,” replied Tyler.

  “I do understand, sire. I know the death of Jorund still weighs heavily on you. I don’t blame you for trying to shield us from what you think are personal threats. But we are all in this difficult and tasking quest. A threat against one of us menaces the rest. But more importantly, trust is the coin which holds us all together. Secrets like what you are keeping now would start to tear apart our fellowship.”

  Tyler sighed heavily.

  “You don’t know what the burden of having your lives in my hands is doing to my mind and soul. I have not experienced this situation ever. I might be the First Mage, but you know I am still a novice, an ignorant and bumbling one, in many aspects of the magical art. Nor have I ever been in command of a group in life and death situations. To tell you frankly, my mind reels from the kind of risks we are taking,” the mage wearily confessed.

  “I know, sire. Though you should minimize the instances where you take the lead and expose yourself to the risks of death and grievous injury. Our task will die with you, and then the world will suffer the consequences of such a loss. I am sorry I also cannot help you progress on your path towards mastering your skills and abilities. I am not even familiar with the spells I have seen you cast. It is, apparently, a course of learning you must undertake on your own,” answered Asem.

  “That I have already realized. Even had close calls. Magical experimentation appears to be a hazardous business,” said Tyler. “But what gave me away? I mean the fact that there’s another major deity after my head?”

  “A massive surge of power when we were at the wall, sire. I believe Tyndur felt it too. It was right before the Yahui run amuck among the Aztecah.”

  “Right again. I can’t mention the name here, outside the temple, even with the unstable energy pattern surrounding this complex. And there are two other possible complications. Likewise of a deity nature.”

  “Farman would be one,” said Asem.

  “Now that’s creepy. How can you tell?”

  “His form oozes energy of a non-mortal kind, no matter how he tries very hard to hide it. And there’s also another powerful presence hovering around the area. Another deity. But that presence does not intrude or take any action. It merely observes.”

  “That would be a commitment made back in Hellas. I really didn’t expect she would follow us here though Habrok and Astrid had seen her,” explained Tyler.

  “A female Greek deity? Now that’s interesting,” commented Asem.

  “I guess so, though she did come to my aid when a scorpion ballista got me. I have my suspicion about a second instance, but I need to confirm that part. Come, let’s go inside the temple. I’ll have Habrok call Tyndur. We also have to discuss the Void Lands part of our journey,” stated Tyler as he stood up.

  Asem followed suit and eyed him contemplatively.

  “Despite my years of learning and exposure to matters divine and magical, not to mention the lore my Father allowed me to learn, I still don’t know if you’re fortunate or cursed, sire. A focus of attention of deities from various pantheons. Of vague prophecies. The friendship of gods known to be stingy with trust and knowledge. The enmity of powerful enemies. Strange powers. A path of honor and salvation? Such a curious and chaotic mix of situations and relationships. At the very least, an interesting one. I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. You attract dangerously momentous events. But such is the fate of singularly fated mortals,” said Asem.

  “I get that speech often, Asem. I never willingly choose this path, if you must know,” answered Tyler.

  “Oh my! I did sound like a deity!” Asem laughed. “But we never choose our path, sire. We only think we do. Some call it fate. Others call it serendipity. Or maybe just a fortuitous conjunction of circumstances as those skeptical would like to believe. Considering the deities of this world also seem to be at a loss on what the next wave will bring in these tumultuous times, it could be the hand of something larger and more powerful than any deity or entity we know. But that’s just me. A heresy, a lot of people would say. And that coming from a High Priestess of Thaut. Ironic, isn’t it?”

  Tyler laughed at Asem’s comment and led the way back to the temple.

  “You know, sire, one thing puzzles me about that Tzitzimitl attack,” commented Asem as they walked towards the entrance of the main temple. “That it was a Tzitzimitl is an unheard-of event, I have not read of any account describing the use by the Aztecha of such a dangerous creature. Second, there was only one of the monsters. Lore tells us that they usually attack in great hordes, well-nigh unstoppable.”

  “Well, it could be that the instigator of the assassination attempt didn’t tell his fellow deities he got his ass handed to him, so he got the creature without the knowledge of his brethren,” speculated the mage.

  “That could be the case,” replied Asem. “Deities of importance are full of themselves as a rule. Losing to a mortal is a matter best kept secret lest the god become the butt of jokes. Worse, he could be punished through losing part of his power and stature. Pantheons do not look kindly upon unsanctioned and solitary attacks on mortals which fail.”

  “To be fair, he was overconfident and had just lost a battle which could have drained him already of most of his power. I doubt if I could take him on if he was at full strength,” said Tyler as they entered Apu Rumi’s gooey mass of an entrance.

  Chapter Lore:

  Tenma – A Japanese word meaning evil spirit, a monster, or a fiend.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Eira's Gift. And Harry.

  “Rest for a while, sire. You look like you need it. On second thought, we could hold this gathering tomorrow morning,” offered Asem after they passed through Apu Rumi’s gelatinous watch.

  “Do I look that bad?” asked Tyler.

  “Shadows under your eyes, stooped posture, dragging your feet as you walk, not to mention you suddenly look twenty years older. And you need a shave and a haircut.”

  Tyler laughed a little.

  “I am beyond tired, Asem. But I’d hate to start the day on such a dark note if we discuss these things tomorrow. Tell you what, give me an hour to rest.”

  “Two hours, sire. The matters to
be discussed demand a clear head,” said the priestess.

  “Thank you, Asem. Don’t be surprised if you don’t see me in my room. A gift from Dionysus. It enables me to rest in safety and for a longer time. I don’t mind mentioning his name here. I could do with some advice from him, but I guess the deities in the north are occupied at the moment.”

  “Indeed they are, sire. Even in Kemet. Beings that should be asleep are awake and far from their usual haunts. An ill wind with a whiff of corruption and dark plots. But it is strange that such events are not to be found in the conflict-ridden lands of the south,” replied Asem, the furrows of her brow deep in thought. “Anyway, a bit of rest will do all of us some good. That gift from the wine god is a handy one. You’re lucky. Father still refuses to give me the knowledge for that spell, and as far as I know, it is a deity-level ability.”

  Tyler smiled and went to his room, waving to Habrok and Astrid seated at the table, engrossed in animated discussion.

  I’ll bet the subject is Kobu’s exhibition, mused the mage. Though that comment about the inner sanctum ability was quite the revelation. Dionysus didn’t tell me it was that unique a spell. Apparently, at that point, he trusted me more than I expected. Thanks, Dio. That’s one act that Loki wouldn’t believe.

  He laid himself down on the waiting bed with relief. Tyler refused to think about anything else for a few minutes, luxuriating in the feeling of finally relaxing his tired body. Going to his sanctum could wait. After a while, he turned his head and looked at the staff he had placed beside the bed.

  Now that’s a mystery I have to worry about first, Tyler thought. It’s a weapon I keep close to myself, and I can’t have it turning around and snapping its metaphorical jaws around my all-too-real throat. And until I clear that up, there’s no way I am going to bring that inside my private space. He grasped the weapon and examined it. It still looked the same.

  “Hal? X? Examine the staff, please. I sensed something new in it during my fight with Huitzilopochtli.”

  “It is a benign addition, Elder,” came the immediate answer from X. “The energy signature matches that of the deity Nike.”

  Nike?

  “What does it do? Nike’s addition, I mean.”

  “A limited spell is woven into the energy, Elder. From what we could determine, it has something to do with the use of the staff in combat.”

  “Could you be more specific? Is there any chance that it could turn against us?”

  “Skill in close quarter conflict using the weapon is magically given when the energy or spell senses that the wielder is in a combat situation. Naturally, it has to be held by you. As to danger, we don’t believe so, although we cannot predict how it will mark, or conversely, be affected by the other energies now in the staff. I doubt if Nike knew about the previous infusions of energy from various entities. For now, Nike’s gift appears to be in symmetry with the rest. The present configuration of the staff does give rise to a number of possibilities. Experimentation would unlock such potentials,” clarified X.

  Experimentation? Again? Now with a bladed weapon? I’ll probably slice myself in two.

  “I’ll consider the experimentation suggestion carefully. My track record in that direction is not so good. But I wonder why Nike did it? I don’t recall her giving me such a gift back in Hellas.”

  “We believe it was when you were struck by that ballista bolt, Elder. You blacked out for a few seconds and let go of the staff. That would have given her the opportunity to infuse it with her gift.” It was Hal this time.

  “Gift? Why would she give me a gift?”

  “You’re now her Favored, Elder. It is a traditional practice among deities to give a gift or gifts to mortals who find favor in their eyes. Though with this new energy form, we have to keep a closer watch on the interplay of the magical matrices within the staff. It could hold the different elements it now contains. We daresay it could even store more. But how these elements react to each other is the blast of a question,” Hal replied.

  “Trying to be witty there, Hal? And the reference is not funny,” Tyler answered crossly.

  Hal trying to be witty? Must also be adopting human attitudes. Like Rumi. Does that mean the way humans think is a contagious condition? considered Tyler. What a subject for discussion! Where’s the internet when you need it?

  “It is what it is, Elder. Though we wish deities would ask first before adding to the mix of energies,” commented Hal. “Volatility of mixtures of magical power coming from different sources is a fundamental rule.”

  “As you said, Hal. It is what it is. We need to be careful about the energies being included in the staff. I do observe that so far, we have primeval and light energies mixed in it. From what Rumpr gave it up to Nike’s gift. It appears that, so far, there’s no contradiction or conflict in the natural makeup of those given to the weapon. Though I don’t know if that encounter with the sons of Ares infused it with the energy of fear. To be on the safe side, we should avoid infusing the staff with power from dark, malevolent, or evil beings,” said Tyler.

  “A wise precaution, Elder. Though with the mix of powers it has now, your staff is turning out to be one of most powerful weapons in this world. Not as potent as those owned or used by major deities, Odin’s Gungnir for instance, but it is getting there. You should name it already. It’s now too powerful not to have a name. Lore does mention that naming a powerful magical weapon binds it closer to its owner and could give rise to new capabilities. On the possible contribution of the sons of Ares, fear itself is not evil. It is a natural human emotion. We do sense a sliver of it in the staff but not enough to make a difference. At most, it will begin to give rise to the emotion in your target,” said Hal.

  Name it? I guess there’s nothing wrong with that. Tyndur did name his axe “Jorund’s Justice.” And Thor has his Mjolnir. But what to call it? considered Tyler as he looked at the weapon. Some would give it a fearsome title or a mighty name. But I am not them. Let’s keep it simple.

  He held the staff with both hands, raised it, and focused on the weapon.

  “I name you Eira’s Gift.”

  The wooden pole immediately became warm in his hands. But only for a few seconds. Tyler waited. Nothing happened.

  No blinding glow? A talking staff? Pretty sparks? The blare of divine trumpets? Still, nothing happened though taxed arms started to ache from the effort of holding it up, his already tired muscles initiating their protest through small sharp jabs of pain in his shoulders and joints. He returned the staff to its place.

  I must be expecting something Hollywood. Too many movies, I guess. Or I need a cape and glasses to make it work. With Hal and X as its watchers, I do feel a bit reassured. Now to grab some quick shut-eye. I’ll use my private sanctum when it’s time to sleep. As in sleep, not a nap.

  But try as he did, the blessings of Hypnos didn’t come. Though his eyes were closed, he could feel a mass of thoughts trying to force their way past the closed gates of his mind. But the feeling of being on his back on a proper bed with his awareness largely isolated from his many concerns was relaxing by itself.

  Eira’s Gift, he thought. I think I named it correctly. I wonder how is she doing? I hope the undead and other plagues infesting Hellas didn’t make it through the borders of her forest. Not that the ancient wood would allow it. I did suspect it was sentient but to a degree beyond what humans would understand.

  As he thought of Eira, a memory of her smiling, radiantly beautiful face came to the fore. A gentle wind disturbed the curls of her hair. She was looking at him, the captivating eyes which had first caught his attention now transfixed him in a loving, tender gaze. Tyler didn’t notice anything else – her dress and where she was. He could smell her wonderful, captivating scent. It was like being on a perfect spring morning. The smell of flowers and fresh rain. He smiled back. The mage found his tiredness gone and the weight of his worries had largely lifted.

  “Sire, sire.” A voice called out. The vision disappeared.
He was awake. Was it a dream? So, I did fall asleep. Tyler opened his eyes. The face of Habrok appeared before him.

  “Yes, Habrok? Is it time?”

  “Uhm, yes sire, but it’s already dawn. We decided to let you rest. You badly needed it,” said the ranger. “But we’re all gathered in the hall having breakfast.”

  “Thanks, Habrok. I’ll be there shortly,” answered Tyler.

  “Very good, sire,” replied Habrok as he turned and started to go out of the room. The ranger suddenly paused and turned his attention back to Tyler.

  “Your room smells of flowers, sire. Forest flowers. Odd. I thought you’d like to know.”

  He’s right. The room does smell of flowers. To be exact, Eira’s flowers.

  “It’s okay, Habrok. I guess it’s the temple’s way of giving me a good night’s sleep,” Tyler said, deflecting the topic.

  As the ranger left, Tyler stood up and went to do his morning ablutions. But the thought continued to nag him.

  Was it just a dream? If it isn’t, then is there a way to privately talk to Eira? See her? Then an inspired idea came to him.

  “Guys. I just had a dream of Eira. But it might be more than a dream. Can you look into the possibility of contacting her? Talking to her? Seeing her?”

  “It’s quite possible, Elder. An interesting line of study. We’ll look into it. The new knowledge at our disposal and your heightened abilities will come in handy.”

  “Oh, and have you come up with a way to divert the attention of the squids? I don’t want them following our journey.” The mage was referring to the repulsively disturbing entities who kept visiting him in his dreams. He guessed the unstable energy around temple didn’t make that possible as of the present, but the moment he’s out of the range of the instability, the arrogant beings would again make their presence felt.