The Accidental Archmage

by Edmund A. M. Batara

  Deities. They try to deny it but, in many ways, they’re more human than us mere mortals, considered Tyler.

  Tyler was thankful for Asem’s presence by his side. It gave him the opportunity to catch up on what Viracocha did while the mage was away. Though the deity made use of the Inka army as manual labor, he did put the companions through a series of drills, competitions, and exercises. The god even announced it, as he promised Tyler, as the Viracocha Games.

  But from what Asem told him, it was an exciting and practical series of maneuvers and mock combat. He pitted Astrid against Kobu, Kobu against Tyndur, then matched them in two-against-one situations. Even Asem was not spared. The deity did take the precaution of requiring them to fight with weapons in their scabbards, or otherwise wrapped in protective leather. A training regime which was magically enforced. One couldn’t pull a weapon out of its sheath, and no matter how hard one hits, the force of the blow on the opponent was merely enough to leave a slight bruise. Viracocha even had them running drills for combat formations.

  “How about Habrok,” Tyler asked. “His skill is not in melee. Don’t tell me he just sat and watched from the sidelines?”

  Asem laughed.

  “He got the most interesting part. Habrok was told to bring ten Yahui heads in two days, and each one had to have an arrow in either eye. Oh, don’t look so outraged, sire. And don’t tell me you’re not, the crossed eyebrows gave you away. Three men from the Inka ranks accompanied the ranger. Our tutor of an old man knew there were still a few Yahui stragglers in the new valley.”

  “Practical training then,” said Tyler. “At least he put the time to good use.”

  “Yes, and I had to fix everybody up before I could go to sleep,” replied Asem and then whispered. “Somehow, he knew Kobu would be with us. But then he’s a deity, after all.”

  Their first day of travel over the blasted and barren landscape was without incident. Habrok always took the opportunity to move the party through cover. Tyler was grateful for that, though he had to cast a healing spell to help out his aching feet. But the deeper they went, closer to the Void Lands, the mage started to notice the land was becoming drier, the soil under his sandals turning a shade darker, and the green islands of woodland was becoming scarcer. It didn’t help when Tyndur remarked that he had never seen such a godforsaken land. Remembering that the Elders released the einherjar in the northern part of the Barren Lands, Tyler knew the warrior had some basis for his comparison.

  On the second day, during one of their breaks, Habrok came over.

  “We’re being followed sire,” the ranger informed Tyler. “They must have seen us from a much higher elevation yesterday and only caught up with us today.”

  “Any idea who or what?” the mage asked.

  “Not beasts. Or they would have pounced on us when we were crossing that open terrain a while back. Could be humans. Or creatures who act and think like humans. I recognize the movements. Only hunters do the things they have been doing.”

  “Let’s find a place where they would have no choice but to confront us. Look for a wide enough crossing, and we’ll wait for them,” suggested Tyler.

  “I’ll advise the others,” said Habrok as he moved away.

  Tyler looked at the overcast sky. It’s not even noon, and trouble rears its ugly little head.

  Habrok’s movements changed as he searched for the proper site. Finally, he found one and with a discrete hand signal to the others, he crossed first. Then the rest of the group followed. At the end of the exposed ground was a series of small brackish mounds. They could be salt mounds, but Tyler decided he’ll forgo a convenient source of salt for now. Given the story Asem told him about the Barren Lands, the strange piles could be anything from magically transformed human beings to the remains of a sacrificial altar. He’d rather not end up speculating on what he got.

  The party lay hidden behind the mounds with Habrok serving as their watcher. After an hour of waiting, the ranger signaled that their quarry was traversing the open area. As their pursuers came close to their hiding spot, a signal from Habrok, and they all stood up, ready for anything. Tyler noticed that Viracocha’s drills must have done some good – their melee fighters, namely Kobu, Astrid, and Tyndur stood in front, with the einherjar in the middle. Habrok stayed on their left flank with his bow at the ready. Meanwhile, Asem moved forward to a position at Tyndur’s back, prepared to support the front line. Tyler was left in the middle.

  The mage finally got a good look at who was pursuing them. It was a group of twenty men and women. They didn’t look Incan or from Aztecah lands. Their physique was more robust, and they were taller. With long hair tied at the back of their heads, they were dressed and armed in a mishmash of armor and weapons. Rough leather hides, pieces of iron gear, primitive skull caps, battered Greek and Norse helmets, as well as an assortment of equipment the mage didn’t recognize. Weapons ranged from clubs, spears, hatchets, notched battleaxes, and different sword types. All in all, a sorry looking bunch, thought the mage.

  Upon seeing Tyler’s party already deployed for combat, the leader, a hulk of a man wearing the tattered skin of wolf complete with a fanged head, stopped and raised both hands. His group halted. The leader slowly laid his spear down on the dry soil, at the time saying something out loud. It was in a language unfamiliar to Tyler.

  The mage turned to his companions.

  “Anybody understands what the big fellow is saying?” he asked.

  Asem spoke up.

  “I do, sire. Parts of it, anyway. It’s an ancient language of Kemet, long unused and only spoken back on the First World,” said the priestess.

  The rest of the hunter’s pack followed, setting down their weapons. Almost all had bows. Some sat on the ground, waiting for a resolution of the impasse. Tyler himself was at a loss on what to do, attacking a group which had laid down its arms didn’t appeal to him.

  “Ask them why they were following us,” he instructed Asem.

  Asem walked to Tyndur’s side and began talking. The leader’s face lit up when he heard the priestess and responded with a lengthy exposition, accompanied by gestures towards his hunting band and towards the far mountains. The priestess returned to Tyler.

  “They say they were on their way to their traditional hunting grounds. Their scout saw us and feared we would be taking their prey,” said Asem.

  “Sounds reasonable,” said Tyler.

  “I agree,” replied Asem. “Only, there are several holes in what they said – one, the closer to the Void Lands, the less chance of game animals. Our group had not seen any since we arrived. Second, I sense falsehood. They might be hunters or bandits. Third, if they are hunters, their village should not be far off. Usually, a march of a day or two away at hunting pace. I have heard there are small tribes and even cities in the vastness of the Barren Plains, but none this close to the accursed lands.”

  “What do you suggest?”

  “They are inviting us to their mid-morning meal. I suggest we decline yet stay in the same area but with separate camps. Let’s keep them at a distance and watch how they act. It would be difficult for us to continue our journey with an unknown element at our back.”

  “You’re right. But not out here, we might attract predators. Up there on those mounds, the dead trees could still provide some cover for everybody,” replied Tyler. “But wait first, let Habrok advise everybody about the plan.”

  The mage called Habrok over and gave the ranger instructions to relay to the companions. Only after the man had made the rounds did Asem talk to the hunting band’s leader. Each group made its arrangements, but Tyndur and Kobu made sure that the companions, except Habrok who was assigned to watch their back, were positioned facing the newcomers, with trees covering their flanks and rear. All kept their weapons close.

  “What do you think, Tyndur?” Tyler asked the einherjar.

  “They look like an ordinary hunting band, but I feel something is wrong,” replied the warrior.

&nbs
p; “I sense it too. There is a taint of darkness over those hunters,” added Kobu.

  “Advise Astrid and Habrok. Let’s see what happens. Asem also has her reservations,” said the mage.

  Tyler’s group started bringing out their provisions. The mage noticed that some of the men and women of the other group were huddled in discussion with their leader. As his suspicions about their guests became stronger, Tyler was reassured by the thirty or so feet separating them. As they started eating, Tyler noticed that the leader had stood up and was walking towards them, carrying something in his hands. Asem stopped eating and rose to meet him. The rest of the companions likewise paused in their meals, watching Asem stride forward, and furtive movements saw to weapons. The priestess met the leader several feet from their site. The two conversed for a few minutes, and then the man gave Asem what he was carrying.

  The priestess immediately dropped the small parcel and in a swift and sure movement, lopped off the leader’s head with her khopesh. Asem immediately charged the rest. Though caught by surprise by their companion’s sudden execution of the gift-giver, the rest of Tyler’s party exploded into action. Astrid blurred, Kobu and Tyndur instantly disappeared, and two of the nearest hunters dropped into the ground with Habrok’s shafts in their throats. All happened while Tyler was still shocked by Asem’s unexpected action.

  As he began to stand up, the mage saw Kobu and Tyndur had reappeared among the hunters and were already killing with impunity. Astrid meanwhile had reached those nearest their position and like a wind of death, was swinging her twin xiphos. The mage saw that the trio was not even checking if their attacks were fatal – a strike and each moved on to the next defender.

  But Tyler saw that where Astrid and Kobu wielded their weapons with extraordinary grace, making each cut or thrust an exercise in precision, Tyndur fought with quick, brute strength. Battered swords or axes didn’t block his attacks. Jorund’s Justice simply cleaved through battered weapons held up to block its murderous way and cut the defender in half or easily powered through and chopped off a limb. A repositioning swing of the axe took care of the hollering hapless victim.

  Asem had not even reached the hunters yet. Three more were dropped by Habrok. Then it was over. Barely several seconds had passed, and the twenty-strong hunting pack was gone, blood and limbs now marked their campsite. Though Tyler credited Tyndur with most of the heads and limbs left on the ground. For the mage, it was a gory, brutal yet fascinating display of the abilities of the companions.

  Dionysus was a bit in error. Make that a merry band of efficient killers, the mage mused.

  The young mage waited for the companions to come back. Tyler had no desire to go to the site of the exceptionally one-sided fight. Even from the considerable distance of thirty feet, the young man could see the blood-soaked result of the engagement even without the aid of his magically enhanced eyesight. But he was impressed by the way the companions reacted to Asem’s abrupt act of violence. There were no questions. No second thoughts. Trust was there. And extremely quick reflexes.

  While waiting, Tyler started to pack his food back to the pouch. He doubted if anybody would have the appetite to finish a meal within sight of the grim and graphic scene. The young mage had finished and was sitting on the ground when the companions came back. As he also expected, each also started repacking whatever food they had brought out. But Asem went directly to him.

  “What was that all about?” the mage asked.

  “The stuff of legends and stories made up to scare children. I never knew the legend was still alive and consuming people,” cryptically replied the priestess as she sat down beside Tyler. “I have told the rest of the group already as to the reason why I did what you all saw.”

  “That was quite vague an answer, priestess,” said Tyler.

  “It’s an old legend from Kemet, sire. The only existing evidence in the Great Library was a map left by a person called Meren, said to be the scribe of a lost royal expedition. The map itself was found in the collection of one Lumeri, the Heri-tep a’a, or governor, of the border city of Yamu. But for my Father, it was a reminder of an old enemy who was able to cross over to this world during its infancy.”

  Tyler waited for Asem to continue though to his mind came the image of the scribe he met outside the temple.

  “Even though the Order of Scribes and the Royal Administrator didn’t put much significance on the finding of the map, aside from closing the book on the fate of yet another expedition ordered by the Pharaoh into the Death Lands, my Father, through the link provided by the physical papyrus, was able to determine what happened. That knowledge was passed on to me as the High Priestess,” Asem continued.

  “Don’t keep me in suspense, Asem,” chided Tyler with a grin. “It is an interesting tale.”

  “A grim tale, sire. A warning. The expedition was cut to pieces by the denizens of the Great Desert and the Death Plains. Its survivors were found by a people from the ancient Kemet of your world who had crossed over without the assistance of our pantheon. They were the followers of the Black Pharaoh, a title which no one, except the high priests and full ranked mages, remembered. I won’t mention his name, but the entity is but a harbinger of other beings waiting behind the veil protecting the two worlds.”

  “Hidden Ones?” asked Tyler.

  “The term is familiar to you, sire? On second thought, I should have expected that. But no, not a Hidden One. Compared to what the Black Pharaoh and his kind, the Hidden Ones are juveniles. Lore tells us that so far only the Black Pharaoh was able to materialize on the First World by himself. But that dark entity does not intend to seek power for himself, but instead lay the foundations for the crossing over of his kind. It probably took the combined power, and more, of his kind to enable him to materialize. Unfortunately, my father told me that being might have also crossed over to Adar.”

  “How could his kind enter this reality?”

  “Belief, faith, and magic. The erasure of his name in the annals of Kemet was one solution, though it appeared that some of his believers and followers survived the maelstrom of cleansing that followed. To think that creature became a Pharaoh back in the First World! A ruler of Kemet! It took the pantheon to remove and dispose of him, but apparently, his kind does not easily die.”

  “So, we have another mad dark entity walking around,” commented Tyler. He had heard of the Black Pharaoh from Lumeri but not in this level of detail. Not that the mage had the intention of revealing that tidbit of information to Asem. As his guide said, “secrets he had aplenty.”

  “Not mad, sire. Far from it. He has one sole purpose in this reality – to enable his kind to materialize on this plane. Fortunately, the Black Pharaoh’s power waxes and wanes with the number of followers he can collect. But he is also a very powerful and compelling being by himself.”

  “You mentioned the Death Lands? Isn’t that quite far from here? Further down south, if my memory serves me correctly,” said Tyler.

  “That was my thought too, until this incident happened. It appears his tribe had grown and prospered. Though instead of expanding down to the Kingdoms of the Forgotten Edge or even Kemet, past the insurmountable obstacles of the Death Lands itself, the vastness of the Great Desert, and then the stark sparseness of the Forgotten Edge, these human abominations extended their reach northward up to the Barren Lands. I doubt if they would attempt to go inside Kemet, the magic of our priests and mages would have found them out. But these lands? There are, as I said, pockets of human tribes and peoples in this region. It is the next best thing for them. As a hunting ground.”

  “Hunting ground? Cannibals?” asked Tyler.

  “Yes, sire. Humans are their preferred prey. Whether as a religious symbolism or as an actual source of power, I don’t know. But as soon as my hands touched that unclean and profane package, I knew what I was facing. It was dried human flesh, sire. Already ritually prepared and infused with a dark essence. It must be how they prepare their sacrifices. We were expected
to eat their offering and then find ourselves as their dinner guests. Probably with the one they worship in attendance. With the Aztecah, there’s a chance they’ll only take your heart unless their patrons demand otherwise. With these perversions, one’s heart, flesh, and soul are all at stake.”

  Chapter Lore:

  Yamu – An ancient Egyptian city during its Old Kingdom period. Egyptians adopted the name on Adar for one of their cities. (SOA, Book I)

  Heri-tep a’a – An ancient Egyptian title denominating a nomarch or the ruler of a city, province or region. (SOA, Book I)

  The Black Pharaoh – Lovecraft’s stories mention a black Pharaoh. (SOA, Book I)

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Water and Bones

  “We better get moving, sire,” Habrok spoke up. “We don’t want to be here when scavengers arrive. I don’t even have an idea of what kind of beasts exist in these lands. But from what I could see in the distance, monstrosities undoubtedly. Fortunately, the wind is blowing opposite the direction of our destination. Greatly lessens the chances of anything being told of a meal walking their way.”

  Habrok’s words gave impetus to the pace of the party. Everybody wanted a considerable distance between them and the bloodstained soil of the mounds. A few hours later found them camped in a grove of petrified trees.

  “I don’t see patches of greenery anymore,” observed the ranger. “Or familiar beasts of any sort. Before I believe I saw a pack of wolves, larger than usual, but ordinary beasts. Never thought I’d be happy to see wolves. Now, I’d settle for giant snakes which look normal. I might have glimpsed a horde of something in the distance at one point, but they’re not of any kind I recognize. Either this indeed is a cursed land, or we’ve stumbled into an entirely different world.” Disgust marked the last phrase of the man.