The Accidental Archmage

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The Accidental Archmage Page 20

by Edmund A. M. Batara


  Chapter Nineteen

  That Old Destructive Feeling

  While the mage paused and keenly observed the effect of his spell against the rampaging beast, two men carrying an unconscious and bloodied defender passed in front of him. With a shock, Tyler saw the female warrior had lost her right leg, cut off below the knee. A heavily stained bandage covered her left rib.

  Kobu noticed his stare.

  “War, sire. Though mages at the battle line have stabilized her condition. Specialized healers will take care of her,” said the warrior.

  “Stop,” the mage told the litter-bearers. While they stood, Tyler quickly cast a healing spell on the casualty, focusing on the rib area. The amputated leg appeared to be already cauterized. As the healing bathed the body of the patient, it returned an image of the injured area. The mage could see torn and damaged muscles and bone cracks returning to their normal state.

  “Two broken bones on her ribcage, a lot of torn flesh, lost blood,” he told the men. “Go and tell the healer what I said. I also have cast a healing spell on her.”

  He looked at the face on the fallen mercenary as she was carried off. Her helmet and chest armor had been removed. Her matted blonde hair was an untidy mess, covering part of the dirty face. Tresses hung from the makeshift litter. A mixture of blood and dirt adorned it. Quite young for a mercenary, the mage observed. A Keltoi. I guess not more than twenty-six years old. I wonder what’s her story to find herself far from home, facing nightmares.

  Tyler turned his attention to the giant Yahui being barely held at bay by the defenders. Only a few arrows and javelins were able to penetrate its thick magical hide. From their angle, the mage saw the projectiles were merely sticking to the thick skin and liable to fall off. The mage noticed the second line had been brought into action. Thankfully, the smaller Yahui had all been taken care of though a sizable group of defenders stood to the side as a precaution against new jumpers.

  But his force blade attack, directed against the two heads, was almost as useless. Some bounced off or dissolved as they struck the beast. But somehow, the sight of the young wounded warrior set off something ugly in his psyche. A hot geyser of anger rushed to his head. A crimson haze suffused his awareness.

  Tyler suddenly let loose two large spearheads against the body of the creature. He was mindful enough not to infuse the forms with flame – splash damage could injure or maim the defenders now surrounding it. As the missiles hit, he could see one merely left a large scar on the thick hide. But the other had penetrated and a small wound could now be seen.

  Immediately, the mage threw a small tendril of energy towards the wound and felt it enter the body of the creature. Once inside, he pushed more power into it and formed several small clawed hands. Then he proceeded to tear apart the beast from the inside. Loud bellows of pain and anger erupted from the giant monster as it lost control of its feet and splayed on the ground. The startled defenders took a few steps back, though their pikes and spears were still pointed at the creature.

  The mage let the taloned tendrils of energy run unchecked inside the body of the creature. He could sense them tearing apart flesh and slicing through bone. Tyler heard the mournful cries of the beast as the rampage inside its body continued. Part of the mage’s subconscious was appalled at the enjoyment he felt as the creature suffered in agony. But the giant Yahui still didn’t die.

  Suddenly, the figure of Kobu blurred and appeared atop the monster. The man swiftly raised his sword and with two quick slashes, lopped off in succession the heads of the tortured beast. Just as abruptly, the exile reappeared at Tyler’s side.

  “It’s dead, sire,” Kobu quietly advised, his calm voice penetrating through the haze that shrouded Tyler’s mind. “The men could take care of any Yahui coming over the wall.”

  “Oh, very good. Kobu,” he mechanically answered. To his fear and surprise, a warm sensation now rose at the back of his head. Anger at a prey being stolen. What the fuck? Part of his mind protested. Tyler had to fight the impulse to let loose a blast of energy to obliterate Kobu. What’s happening to me? At that point, the mage knew he had to leave the area lest his destructive impulses become too strong. The taint of cruelty which accompanied his actions and thoughts greatly disturbed him.

  He turned and walked quickly back to temple. After a few steps, he paused and turned to Kobu.

  “I need to get back to the temple. Alone. Hold the line here. Please advise anybody who wants to see me that I need to be by myself for a while,” Tyler ordered.

  Without waiting for an answer or the customary bow, he continued on his way and teleported when he reached an open area. As the young mage arrived near the temple compound, he moved past the entrance and proceeded to the back of the temple. Tyler knew he was walking quickly but knew he reached too soon his destination.

  Was I walking? Or was I doing something else? He asked himself as he sat down on the stone step at the bottom of the temple. And what the hell is happening to me?

  The mage held his head in his hands, ruffling them through his hair. His head was pounding, accompanied by the warning signs of a massive headache.

  Damn it! What’s happening to me? he asked himself with frustration.

  As the feeling of frustration rapidly grew, Tyler suddenly found himself back in the dark room with the candle in the middle of the space. Its light was faint. The familiar black swirling eddies of energy surrounding the light in the middle of the room was back. And the mage could feel its incredible strength and power.

  “Guys? Hal? X?” Tyler called out. No reply. Shit. This space must inaccessible to them. But where am I? I thought I knew before. Now I am not so sure. And why the heck am I here?

  As if responding to his annoyance, the churning which characterized the dark fog increased in tempo.

  What the fuck? reacted the still angry mage as he moved towards the floating candle. Did it respond to my irritation? And how do I get out of here?

  He gazed at the flickering candle and then at the dark fog moving around the room, just outside the light given out by the room’s sole source of illumination. As he focused on the swirling black mass, Tyler was surprised to see and sense images and feelings from his memory – unwanted ones. From the fearful visitor running through a forest track, the would-be mage splayed on the mud in Maljen, the arrogance of Ares and Supay, Thor’s disdain, Huitzilopochtli’s leering face, the pain when the Aztecah bolt hit him, the attack of the Greater Yahui in Dionysus’s temple, the battle in Tamoanchan, and all other similar experiences. They formed a revolving collage in his mind as he stared at the murky mist. Then an image of the Aztecah central temple complex lingered.

  The more Tyler gazed at the image, the more his temper grew. Somewhere in his subconscious, a thought arose, blaming the Aztecah for all his recent miseries – being cornered in a godforsaken ruined settlement, the deaths and injuries resulting from the Aztecah incursions, and being sent on a journey to a land all admit to be the biggest cancerous pustule of this world. A garbage bin of monsters and irrational yet powerful beings. He felt being sent to his death.

  Fury and outrage filled him. The flood of rage was now making the mage oblivious to anything else.

  Egotistical, bloodthirsty bastards, he cursed the Atzecah and in reply, a part of his mind whispered. What are you going to do about it?

  Tyler impulsively reached out to the memory with both hands, his will focused by his fury. Crush them! he inwardly shouted as his hands took hold of the vision.

  The image of the central area of the Temple-City of Tamoanchan, with what remained of the teocalli of the Aztecah pantheon, buckled. First at its edges, and as Tyler’s anger grew, the image suddenly crumpled like a piece of paper. Seeing what happened, the mage heatedly crushed it some more. If it were a physical object, the mage would have thrown it to the floor, furiously stamped on the item, and then burned it.

  Then all of a sudden, a sudden calm came over him. Tyler blinked his eyes and found he was back at the
temple, sitting on the stone step. Viracocha was floating in front of him, a mixture of concern and anger in his eyes.

  “Good. You’re back. It’s impossible to have a decent discussion when the person you want to talk to is turning incorporeal,” Viracocha merely said.

  “Incorporeal? Me?”

  “Who else? Though let’s go about this slowly. What are you doing here?”

  “I had to get away from the fighting. I was starting to have weird reactions and thoughts,” replied Tyler.

  “It’s called psychosis, Elder. The continuous strain is breaking your mind,” X suddenly responded.

  “I am going crazy?” exclaimed Tyler.

  “If that deity didn’t call you back, we’d possibly have a mad First Mage on our hands. Not a comforting thought,” came the answer. “We are again using neurotransmitters to stabilize your brain now that you have a physical form again. Your temper is but an indication of the problem.”

  “Like what?” asked Viracocha, interrupting Tyler’s discussion with X.

  “Extreme anger. I am starting to take pleasure in the suffering of my enemies. Irrational thoughts. And a very low temper threshold. I don’t remember being this touchy and irritable,” explained Tyler.

  “I think I understand,” answered Viracocha in a soft voice. He lowered himself to the ground and changed into his Wilan persona. The deity sat beside the mage.

  “Partially my fault. I keep on forgetting you’re a mortal and without the training or the experience for what had happened so far in your stay in this world. Warriors and mages of this world are trained the moment they choose their path. We’re talking about years of training and such schooling never end. They just graduate into a bigger and more dangerous level of learning. You never had that luxury.”

  “You know, back in the First World, most of the soldiers are ordinary people. Given a few months of training and then thrown to battle. Unlike here on Adar,” commented Tyler.

  “And what happens to them when tossed into the crucible of war? War is an intense struggle. Not only against one’s enemies, but also within a person’s mind. It never is glorious or easy,” said Viracocha.

  “Well, we have numerous cases of battle trauma. Veterans usually have what we call as the ‘thousand-yard stare,’ where they seem caught up in a personal world of numbness. Some say it’s the mind’s defense against the horrors and shock of combat.”

  “We also have similar instances. But our warriors and mages are conditioned by years of mental and physical training for conflict,” said Viracocha. “Mortals on Adar have better coping mechanisms, I guess.”

  “Or have adapted to a violent and brutal world. How about me?” asked Tyler, looking at the woods in the distance.

  “Well, my bungling First Mage, I guess you’ve reached the breaking point. Your mind is starting to wander in dangerous territory. Though the tendency towards cruelty is disturbing. You need rest. A break.”

  “That’s all you’re going to suggest? A rest?” exclaimed Tyler.

  “Of course. It does wonders. Even for deities. It’s too late for any training anyway. But maintain a calm demeanor. Always. Fight your rage. Falling into the temptation of unthinkingly lashing out never ends well.”

  “That’s easy to say,” countered the mage.

  “Nevertheless, it’s the only option you have,” responded Viracocha. “We can’t have your pet, that whirlwind of destruction seen in Skaney, loose in this world.”

  “Though if it does destroy this world and you in the process, problem solved for everybody,” added Viracocha with a laugh.

  “Don’t joke like that, it’s too close to reality to be funny,” crossly answered Tyler.

  “Ah, First Mage. Loosen up. Take pain and happiness in stride.”

  “Can’t you find somebody else to take on this burden? Burdens, actually,” said the mage.

  “I didn’t choose you. To be frank, I’d prefer a trained First Mage, experienced, battle-hardened, and committed to keeping this world safe. But instead, we got you. No, Tyler. Deities don’t choose this world’s champion. In the real scale of things, we are but ants scarcely worthy of attention. Adar picked you. Far it from me to question this world’s choices,” replied Viracocha with a smile.

  “Getting the ability to wield magical energy was a choice I freely made, I admit. Only, I didn’t think there were so many strings attached to it. I even had to fix Zeus’s leg into the bargain.”

  “Ah, the vagaries of fate. But I suspect fate is but a tool in this entire spectacle. But back to you. A break or a diversion would be good for you. I promise not to disturb you if you agree. The Yahui are done. Only stragglers remain, and the men here can take care of them. “

  “Five days in Fossegrim?” said Tyler.

  “I would love to give you that, but events are moving too fast. Two days? I did talk to Loki about your arrangements. Better than I hoped for, given that trickster’s penchant for taking an entire arm when only a finger is involved.”

  “I’ll take what I can get, Viracocha. And thanks.”

  “I’ll handle things here while you’re gone. I do have to prepare my temple against the greedy, suspicious, and the curious. Anyway, it will take the mages time to create the steps leading down to the valley so the Inka army will be here for a while. I’ll handle those men from Wa. Impressive fighting men.”

  “Don’t you have to go to the Etruscan lands? You said there’s going to be major battles there, both mortal ones and between deities.”

  “Oh, I have already left instructions. Directives, if you will, as to how the mortal campaign is going to be fought. As to the Aztecah deities, I don’t think we need to worry about the belligerent ones for a while,” said the deity.

  “Why is that? I had the impression they posed the biggest threat so far,” asked Tyler.

  “They did. Until their entire temple complex was suddenly destroyed. Coniraya told me it was a bizarre sight. The area was crushed like old papyrus, toppling their remaining teocalli as well as nearby structures, and then suddenly, everything disappeared. A massive crater is all that is left,” replied Viracocha nonchalantly.

  “Naturally, I had my suspicions and rushed back here,” continued the deity.

  Tyler went pale, nearly choking at the sudden, shocking revelation.

  “Oh, don’t worry. They’ll blame me, as usual. No objections from this deity. They’ll think twice before directly tangling with me again.”

  “Now scoot. I’ll be your proxy here while you’re gone,” said Viracocha, waving Tyler away.

  “Wait. How am I going to get to Skaney?”

  “Oh, that. Two small runes in your belt bag. Crush one to send you there and the other to come back. But mind this, whether or not you use the rune of return, you will be brought back to temple by the end of the second day. Kindly take care not to be in an embarrassing exhibition when that happens,” emphasized the deity.

  “Wait, wait! Another concern. Won’t an extended stay here affect you? The unstable energy patterns around the temple, remember?” reminded Tyler.

  “Oh, that. It’s slowly fading away since the time you got control of that portal. Not that I mind. By the time the knowledge to use it comes to you, the First Mage would have the maturity and experience to use it wisely. But this is the only thing I am going to say about that portal – with enough power, you can use it to travel around this world. I don’t know about travel to worlds and dimensions other than Inti’s dangerous prison universe. And take great care not to let those beings cross over. Even one will have the ability to devour this world. This universe, in fact. Depending on its appetite.”

  “Got it. The companions?”

  “By Myself, First Mage! Won’t your questions ever end? This is a deity you’re talking to, a very powerful one. A very wise and compassionate deity, if you ask me. But I have training on my mind for your companions, Kobu included. The Viracocha Games! Where the best of the best test themselves against each other. And hopef
ully learn something from the bumps, bruises, and broken ribs! Now go! Don’t worry yourself about things here,” said Viracocha. The deity turned to go back to the temple but stopped. Viracocha walked to Tyler and placed something in his hand.

  “I forgot. Somebody told me to give you this,” Viracocha said. He then strode in the direction of the temple.

  “Oh, she also said she’d be back. Enjoy the break, lad,” added the deity without stopping or turning his head.

  Tyler looked at what the Staff God gave him. It was a large white feather.

  Nike, the young mage thought. He turned his attention back to the departing deity.

  “Guys, does he waddle when he walks like that, or do my eyes deceive me,” asked Tyler, watching the deity’s march back.

  “Like a duck, Elder,” replied Hal. “Do you feel better now?”

  “I guess I do. It feels like a great weight had been lifted from my shoulders for now and my mind is clear,” said Tyler.

  “Viracocha’s power of healing helped a lot,” said X. “What makes it different from other healing is its effect on a person’s psychological state. A unique and mighty deity, indeed.”

  “You know, I have read a lot of fantasy novels, played video games, and watched a ton of movies of that genre. Protagonists usually mow down armies with ease, destroy cities, and end up heroes. I don’t recall any portrayal of the effect of such actions on a person’s mental state. I mean the strain of doing dangerous quests day after day, no guilt about killing off whole sentient populations, it all looked so… easy. A linear plot from being a nobody to being a hero. It’s usually “we’re good, and you’re evil.” End of argument. In this world, life is full of blinders. One really doesn’t know if one is doing good or just being a tool. Here, one has to bear the consequences of any action taken, whether the price comes from wrong choices or a guilty conscience. Hell! Even apparently good deeds turn out to be stained with blood, greed, or a simple play for power,” commented Tyler.

  “This is not a story, a game, or a play. And is it any different from the First World? Mortals and their creations think and act the same in whatever world they find themselves. Do what your conscience tells you, Elder. For better or for worse. At least you acted based on a principle, a personal belief in what is right or wrong. If it serves the objectives of other people, there’s nothing you can do about it. Life’s choices can never be isolated from the rest of the world. Whatever you decide, it’s bound to impact negatively on somebody now or in the future. As to the deaths of people, all we can say is that’s war. But masses also die from famine, disease, or through the machinations of whimsical gods. For example, every civilization and pantheon on this world is guilty of human sacrifice at one time or another. Black can turn to grey and given time, even white. But the reverse is also true. While some pantheons moved on from such dark practices, others still perform such rites, the Aztecah for one. But for the Aztecah masses, human sacrifices serve a noble purpose. For the ordinary human on Adar, the Aztecah beliefs don’t concern him or her, unless of course, they’re the one tied up on top of one of the temples, already prepared to serve as an offering,” explained Hal at length.

 

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