The Accidental Archmage: Book One - Ragnarok Rising (MOBI EDITION)

by Edmund A. M. Batara

  THE ACCIDENTAL ARCHMAGE

  Book One

  Ragnarok Rising

  A classical fantasy with a modern twist

  By

  Edmund A.M. Batara

  @ soloflyte

  KINDLE ISBN:

  9781549919077

  ASIN:

  B075ZLPBT6

  All Rights Reserved. 2017.

  Author’s Notes

  Incidents of people disappearing while in plain sight are well-known in recorded history. One of the earliest known accounts was back in the 1700s. One of the most recent was in 2007. Various theories are advanced about the reason for the disappearances. This novel is not such a theory. It is a work of literary fiction and merely draws upon these mysterious disappearances as a starting basis. Incidentally even flocks of birds have been known to disappear in plain sight.

  Endnotes appear at appropriate chapters. There are mythological terms and names used in the story. Footnotes are not appropriate for eBook formatting and I believe footnotes are more distracting that endnotes. Story immersion may suffer also if the reader is left to search by himself the meaning of the terms and names used.

  Runic transcription using the Elder Futhark Proto-Norse runes done through Rune Writer, developed by PB Softworks.

  Enjoy.

  That said, here’s the indispensable part of any book:

  This book is a work of fiction.

  Names, characters, places, interactions, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, unless otherwise indicated. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved by the Author. 2017.

  Found inscribed on an ancient standing stone.

  The Barren Lands.

  Petty Fools,

  The god kings sleep, dreams of

  Power, magic; Torn veil,

  Their watch denied; A ring

  Of hiding, a clasp of

  Silver, the Norns defied.

  A mortal elder, worlds

  Tremble; a book written,

  A magical world, or

  Where grinning vultures reign.

  Man but a child, made flesh

  With eternal bones; Thou

  Deny him? Olympus?

  Jupiter? Enlil? Ra?

  Cernunnos? Arinna?

  Wiraqucha? Mithra?

  Powers of wind, fire and

  Earth; Of ancient gray Rock,

  of lightning; Avail you not.

  Fie! All you gods, mind thy

  Warning; A path faltered,

  A child angered; A rage

  Born; of love and despair.

  Thy world is dust! Of Fire,

  Ice, or Death! Or a world

  Of light, if so desired!

  Harken! Petty gods! Petty fools.

  A wolf wind……

  - Unfinished Prophecy of a Mad Volva.

  Dokkalfr Mountains.

  PROLOGUE

  For Tyler West, it began, like so many journeys, with an ordinary day.

  The prepper convention that Sunday was a good one. He had bought a few things within his budget, packed the items in his backpack, took the bus, and started walking home. His Aunt’s house was a good two hundred meters from the bus stop but the cool late autumn afternoon made the walk a pleasant one. He had some chores waiting for him but Tyler was confident he would be able to finish them before dinner.

  After dinner, he planned to go over his new acquisitions. Then a good night’s sleep before the Monday grind as a paralegal assistant. The pay was decent and he figured he will have saved enough in a few years to start his college enrollment again. He had the equivalent of two years left. His peer group would be ahead of him by that time in the rat race but he didn’t care. To him, at twenty years old, a mere five to six years advantage is negligible. He knew he was smart enough to catch up and surpass many of his contemporaries.

  He did have to contribute five hundred dollars a month to the house upkeep. But he figured he was lucky for having an aunt caring enough to offer him a room and get him his present job. Aunt Emily was a spinster, very strict, conservative but kind enough to acknowledge him as family and offer him a place to stay after the accident which killed his parents eighteen months ago. The estate proceedings afterward, with lawyers, banks, taxes all exacting their pound of flesh, left him a mere 4,800 dollars.

  As an only child, he abruptly found himself homeless, the house repossessed. He didn’t expect his parents to be that deep in debt. Finishing his college degree had to be placed on hold. But the grief, shock, and messy aftermath of his parents’ death made him stronger in his resolve to succeed. In a way, being alone and responsible for himself was a maturing process.

  He turned right at the next alley, a shortcut which would save him the distance of walking to the main intersection crossing the main road. The neighborhood wasn’t so bad with only a few gang members in the area. As there was still daylight left, he figured using the isolated shortcut would be safe. He figured wrong.

  As he neared the exit of the alley, two figures came out, blocking the way.

  “Well, well, well, if it isn’t Tyler,” said one. This one was wearing a hoodie and though Tyler couldn’t see his face, he recognized the voice.

  “Bernie.”

  “The usual, Tyler. You know the drill. Your wallet, your watch, and your backpack.”

  Tyler knew it was useless negotiating with them. Begging for mercy was never on his mind. He already got shaken down twice before. The first time was his wallet and a cheap watch. The second time was only his wallet as he didn’t have the extra money to buy a new watch then. He was fortunate his wallet was nearly empty during those incidents and he had left his credit and social security cards at home. This time, he had all his important cards in his wallet plus a good two hundred dollars. He really didn’t spend that much back at the convention.

  “Face the wall, asshole, and raise your hands,” said Bernie’s companion.

  Tyler didn’t recognize him but surmised he must be a member of Bernie’s meth head pack. He also knew there would be at least two more blocking the alley at his back. He can’t fight four guys at the same time, who may have knives or worse, a Saturday Night Special.

  Tyler did as he was told. He faced the wall and raised his hands. He could taste his fear but he could also feel the rising anger at his situation. He glanced left and saw two more guys blocking the way. He could see the switchblade in one guy’s hand as they approached him. He estimated them to be thirty feet away, having followed him when he entered the alley. Bernie and his companion were a lot closer. Around ten to twelve feet and walking towards him. Looking at them, he could see Bernie’s companion was holding a steel pipe.

  “No guns,” thought Tyler. He could feel his fear giving way to his anger. He hated the feeling of helplessness and it fed his rising anger. His adrenaline rose as his rage at his situation started to cloud his vision.

  Bernie finally reached his right side. He could see the sneer in the meth head’s face.

  “Wimp,” whispered Bernie.

  “Wussy wimp, boss,” his companion added as he laughed.

  Tyler turned and punched Bernie’s face. He could hear the nose crack and felt the pain in the bones of his left fist. It was like watching his body doing the act without his consciousness taking an active part. He could see Bernie thrown back and hitting his head on the opposite wall. Blood was already running from Bernie’s broken nose. At the same time, Tyler’s right hand grabbed the raised arm of the pipe
-wielding companion and pushed it back against the guy’s head. As he heard the crack of the pipe hitting, a spurt of blood from the man’s forehead colored the scene.

  Without looking back, he ran for the exit and turned right. He could hear the shouted curses of the two other guys. All he could think about was to put a lot of distance between him and the meth heads. But as he started to run after turning right, a sudden bright light blinded him. He could feel himself falling, his legs still pumping as if running on solid ground.

  Shocked, blinded and bewildered, Tyler started to panic as he could feel himself falling. He put his hands in front of him but there was nothing. His pumping legs could feel no traction. Then he slammed into water.

  A few hundred miles away, a forest ranger continued his watch over the wide, dry, and rocky plain before him. His position overlooking the expanse was his favorite one. Concealed from below, the scraggy trees surrounding his hiding place afforded the best view of the gathering horde encamped before him.

  He could see more arriving and adding their strength to the mass he was watching. Flags and pennants flew through the windy air, marking the orderly alignment of tents and makeshift shelters. In the distance, he could see animal pens and rows of wagons lined up. His group still had a day to stay in this place, then back to town to report on what they had seen.

  Aside from him, three more of his companions were on watch duty. All experienced rangers with years of living in the wild. Six others were taking their rest in the small dell behind him. With a smile, he thought of their coming back to the delights of the town inn and a comfortable normal bed for a change.

  He was still absorbed in musing when the sharp blade slid through his throat and cut through his larynx. His killer stood up and gave a hand signal to the others waiting on the sides of the copse. They moved out, as silently as they had come.

  Behind them, the bloodied bodies of their victims lay in various poses of death, awaiting the coming of the carnivorous beasts which now moved towards the spot.

  Chapter image – “The Wolf comes.”

  CHAPTER I

  Wet Beginnings

  The painful impact forced the breath from him. Still blinded, he could feel his arms and legs numbing from the shock and pain as he slowly sank. The water entered his open mouth, worsening the panic overwhelming him. He could feel the water filling his lungs and the lack of air as his body struggled to breathe. As he lost consciousness, all he could think of was at least he was drowning in fresh water. A small part of his mind did note that that was a stupid thought for a dying man.

  Tyler woke up to the sight of a frog watching him. He was lying down on his stomach, soaked wet and cold, with his face on its left side kissing the grass. He could feel the sun on his back and the soaked grass underneath. He didn’t move for a while, assessing his surroundings and getting some strength back to his limbs. His body ached and he could feel the numbness remaining in his extremities.

  He could still sense the panic in his mind but forced it out. He was alive as far as he knew. Unless pain exists beyond the Pearly Gates? On the other hand, the scenery was too nice to be Hell. Yet the practical side of him saw no point in panicking. His fear was there but to Tyler, fear is good in his situation. It made him cautious. As far as he could see, he was in a forested area. He could see the water where he crashed but could not assess how big a body it was from his limited view. He was around fifteen feet away. On a patch of soft grass between the forest and the water. How the hell was he alive? And how did he get to shore?

  As the frog hopped away, he started to sit up. Checking himself, no injuries could be seen or felt. His only problem as of the moment was being wet and cold as well as the pervasive body pain and numbness. Even his backpack was wet. He looked around.

  The forest appeared to be virgin growth and the body of water a small lake. He could see the other shore. It was a series of rocky cliffs. The lake itself looked to be bordered by the forest. Streams could be seen feeding into the lake and a small river was flowing from it. The lake itself was a deep blue in color up to the lake shore. He thought it a little bit strange but felt lucky he didn’t fall into the cliffs. The brown and black rocks there appeared jagged and dangerous.

  Looking at the forest, the tall trees and the tangled undergrowth looked discouraging. At least for now. Nor could he see any animals but the forest itself was silent. It was quiet to the point of being eerie. No bird songs, no wind, nothing at all. It was as if he found himself in a landscape painting. Even the lake was preternaturally still.

  Well, first things first, thought Tyler. Get dry. Set up shelter. Then food and protection. The lake would provide the water. Hopefully, it would be safe to drink. He was not able to buy a personal water filter at the convention. He already had two but they were at home. After that, he could get his bearings and get back home. But now, he could feel the tiredness in his body. The shock and exhaustion had taken their toll on him.

  Opening his backpack, he brought out the one-person camping tent and the emergency blanket he had bought. Next, he brought out the fire starter he bought and removed it from its package. Walking to the edge of the forest, he gathered dry fallen branches and twigs and started a fire. Pitching the tent, got out of his wet clothes, brought out the items in his backpack and arranged them near the fire.

  Almost all the items he bought were safe, still being in their sealed packages. Unfortunately, his tablet and cell phone were soaked. He prayed they would still function. He placed both with his clothes and other wet items near the fire. Luckily, the water didn’t get through the vacuum seals of the few biscuit packs though the product cartons were soddened. Naked, he slipped inside the emergency blanket and promptly fell asleep.

  When Tyler woke up, it was early evening. He felt better, only a bit of numbness remained and the pain was starting to recede. The fire had almost burned out so he had to feed it again. His jeans, underwear and short sleeve shirt were already dry so he put them on. He left his socks and sneakers as they were still wet.

  After checking his surroundings for any unwelcome visitors, he sat by the fire and tried to collect his thoughts on his predicament.

  How did I get here? Where’s here? How to get home?

  The barrage of questions passing through his mind threatened him with a headache. Fear again started to begin its steady march from his guts and added impending nausea to the mix. Closing his eyes, he started to take deep breaths and forced himself to settle down, pushing all questions out of his mind.

  The eighteen months since he found himself as an orphan had forced him to a focused and goal-oriented frame of mind. Along the way, he discovered that meditation had proven to be of great help. Lessening his anxieties and directing his mind to calm and practical assessments of problems and possible solutions. As a result, he always tried to start the day with a few minutes of meditation, his day playing out before him. With his new sense of self, he discovered prepping. It appealed to his survival mode mindset. He had begun building up his survival kit, basing it on the CDC list published on the web. His financial constraints did limit what he could buy. Guns and high-value items were definitely out of his reach.

  Looking up at the night sky, he tried to find the usual constellations. He could see the moon and the stars but nothing familiar. The moon looked a lot bigger though. And a full moon at that, though he could have sworn it should be a half moon. He then observed the night sky, trying to find a friendly star. And then he saw a second moon, smaller than the first, but a moon nonetheless. With a third moon in the background, the size of an orange to his eyes.

  He couldn’t breathe. He could feel his heart racing. The alarming realization surprised his already tired and overloaded senses, shocking him to panic mode. He lowered his head and again forced himself to breathe slow and deep. After a while, he went back to his tent and laid his body down. He closed his eyes and tried to calm himself, deep breathing all the while. Despite everything, he could feel the onset of a massive head
ache. Thankfully, his body told him to sleep again.

  The following morning was a strange one for Tyler. The warring concerns of the need to survive and the comprehension of not being on Earth anymore made him act like an automaton. Putting on his socks and sneakers, eating biscuits, drinking from the lake, and gathering more dry wood. Most of the time he was staring at the blue expanse of the lake, trying to make sense of it all.

  “I drowned,” thought Tyler, “I should be dead.”

  He looked at the grass where he found himself yesterday. The green grass was pristine. He didn’t crawl from the lake, that he was sure about. No telltale marks of crawling were visible, the turf was undisturbed. Looking again at the distant cliffs, he gave fervent thanks to God that he didn’t fall into those jagged solid rocks. That would have been a painful way to die. More so with the towering trees of the forest. If he fell into those, he may have survived the fall. But broken bones and bloody wounds would have resulted in a more painful demise. It would have taken him some hours to bleed to death amid excruciating pain.