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

by Edmund A. M. Batara

  “But before I forget. Practical rule number one in this world, never give out your full name. You notice I didn’t give you my middle name. Names here have power and will give people control over you. As in magical control. As a result, people have their secret actual names and a name for worldly use. My name here is Ivar Godfrid. Call me Ivar from now on. And we better find you a name before you start giving it away.”

  “You’re joking, right?”

  “Unfortunately, no. It’s not only the Norse. A lot of ancient cultures back on Earth practice the same precautions. The belief that knowing a person’s real name grants a degree of power is quite pervasive. Especially in what we call black magic practices. Must have crossed over to the Middle Age perception in demonic summoning. You know, that belief about knowing a demon’s real name grants one power over it. Though only a fool or the truly desperate does that.”

  “Don’t tell me demons also exist here?”

  “Oh, some. Not that common anyway. Demons of pagan myth. Or beings not falling under the usual perception of “good”.

  That unsettled Tyler. He hurriedly changed the topic.

  “What sort of name do you suggest?” he asked, “Your name sounds Norse.”

  “Well, this part of the world is mostly Norse. Of course, with some significant differences from what we know as the Norse back on Earth. Time does march on in its confusing glory. The territory with Norse influence is called Skaney. The term is an Old Norse term referring to Scandinavia. Literally means the southern tip of Sweden. My guess is that the first arrivals came from that time era. Hence the name. More later when we get to your geography lecture,” smiled Andreas, “so what will be your world name? Any ideas?”

  “I am not that familiar with Norse names, Ivar,” answered Tyler, “I guess I get to leave that up to you for suggestions. Something easy to remember, please.”

  “How about Thorfinn? Thorgeir? Thoralf? Those start with a “T”, like your real name. You can’t use names of deities, Norse or otherwise. That would be……. bad.”

  “Why? Aside from being obviously sacrilegious.”

  “For one thing, deities here are real and they don’t take kindly to mortals adopting their names. Unless you fancy a lightning bolt out of the blue. In the alternative, the population worshipping the deity may likewise happily cut you to pieces for the transgression. Unfortunately, they also have plenty of wonderfully inventive but painful and lethal ways of punishing you if they’re in the mood.”

  “Wait, I am guessing here that you are not talking about the “God” but deities or gods, with a small “g”. They are real here?”

  “Yes,” Ivar laughed, “The entire bunch, plus or minus a few. From Zeus to Odin to other more esoteric pantheons.”

  He spread his arms wide open in greeting.

  “Welcome to Adar. Dumping ground of our non-monotheistic gods and beings, beasts, and creatures of all kinds. A repository of magical and related learning, a wondrous and extremely dangerous world.”

  “Adar?”

  “That’s what this world is called. Sumerian in origin. It is said that they were the first civilization in our recorded history to settle this world. Well, my guess would be that explains why they got naming rights. But from what is recorded, they thought this world was a part of Earth. Why they named this place Adar is beyond me. It’s the name of a month in their calendar. Unfortunately, even if I were back on Earth, I wouldn’t be able to get the true meaning of the word. Scholars of my time never had a Sumerian dictionary. Even if it is the oldest known language, distinct and separate from the Assyrian and Babylonian languages.”

  “And magic is real here?”

  “Yes. So don’t look surprised if you see it being performed before you. A lot of people would probably love to visit this place. Though most would probably not survive the experience.”

  “Why is that?”

  “Well, it is a bit primitive, as you can see. Also brutal and dangerous. But very interesting. Only a few patches of this world can be called civilized and by that, I mean people won’t kill, eat or sacrifice strangers on sight. And I am not even including the mythological beasties. From the dangerous legends of our world unfortunately. If it comes to that, then one can choose from giant wolves, spiders, drakes, and the like. If one prefers the humanoid kind, then take your pick: frost giants, mountain giants, cyclopean versions of the same, and others I do not know nor care to know about. I have heard about dragons but I still have the pleasure of not seeing one, even from a distance. Even Adar has its own legends of malevolent creatures, communities of them in some stories.”

  “Got it. The boogeyman is real here. How primitive is primitive?”

  “As far as I know, that would range from what we know as the hunting-gathering stages of development up to the Roman period. For some reason, visitations from Earth started tapering off during the Iron Age and then stopped, except for solitary visitors, during the Late Roman period. But then again, I may be mistaken.”

  “Huh…. that is a lot to take in,” replied a dumbfounded Tyler, “You’re not joking?”

  “Unfortunately, no. But lessons later. Name first.”

  “You know, that thing about deities and names really make me apprehensive about something with starts with “Thor.” That hammer of his is nasty. I did see the movie. Can we avoid anything to do with deities?”

  “No problem, how about a reference to your job back on Earth? What did you do?”

  “I was a paralegal assistant. Not a lawyer, mind you. But one who helps in the work relating to the practice of law. An ordinary paper-pusher and gofer. Had to stop college and work when my parents died. Planned to go back when I had the funds.”

  “I am sorry. My condolences for your loss.”

  “It’s okay. That was about eighteen months ago. Accident. Orphaned. No brothers or sisters. Except for Aunt Emily, I don’t know any relatives.”

  “In a way, you’re lucky. My parents were still alive when I moved or jumped. But “jumped” would be a good description. Though the term “stumbled” would be a better one. I left behind two brothers and three sisters. Plus other family and friends. And a girlfriend. I stumbled through in 1954. They must be very old now or dead.”

  Ivar looked at Tyler again.

  “Time passes a lot slower here, you know.” A profound sadness could be seen in his eyes. He looked away. For a few moments, an awkward silence left both men with their own memories.

  “Anyway, that’s done and can’t be changed,” said Ivar as he faced Tyler again, “the word “law” is Norse in origin, as in Danelaw in early English history. Though we can’t use that. Nobody uses that as a name. How about Havard? It means high guardian. You were sort of involved in the practice of law. The term means an advocate or a defender of rights.”

  “You know, Ivar, for a minute there I thought you were joking about lawyers back home. Too many lawyer jokes floating around. But that would be fine. No idea what to name myself anyway. My second name could be… something about wolves. Got jumped by a pack early on during arrival.”

  “Havard Ulriksson. High guardian, the second name could mean a son of the wolf. Though in Teutonic etymology, Ulrik could mean noble ruler. In Danish, it means ruler of all,” smiled Ivar.

  “How do you know these things?” exclaimed Tyler.

  “Swede, don’t forget. From Scandinavia, as you Americans would describe the countries there. Finished my first year in Archaeology and Ancient History at the University of Uppsala. Volunteered to work at a dig site in Egypt for extra credit and the travel. Was clearing a wall we found in a tunnel system. Found it to be a secret entrance while alone. Stepped inside and got dumped here.”

  “That sounds better than my arrival. A sudden bright hole in front of me as I was running away from a mugging. Found myself dropping into a lake. Havard Ulriksson it is. Wait! I just remembered, how did you know that English is my native language?”

  “Easy. I even knew you were an American. Loo
ked through your pack. Helga kept it for you. I guess the contents are dry now. She laid them all out in the sun. Water spilled all over the inside. There are some items there that I don’t recognize. I am guessing those are inventions of your time. With you being hurt, the strangeness of your attire and the contents of your pack, Eric immediately set out to fetch me. Eric is the man you saw earlier. A hunter. He explained to me what happened. He thought you were either a wolf or a small bear out to get him. You were crashing through the forest in his direction. It was a good thing it was already dark. Otherwise, the arrow would have killed you. He’s good with that bow of his.”

  “But why fetch you, of all people?”

  “I got a new job here,” Ivar said with a smirk, “I am the resident Gothi of the settlement located around ten miles from here, called Maljen. It means “priest”, “holy man”, “local shaman”, or even “principal magical adept”, take your pick. I represent some of the Norse Aesir, with Odin the All-Father as my principal deity. My robe carries his colors.”

  Tyler was about to ask a question when the door opened again. The woman he saw earlier entered the room, carrying a clay jug and a bowl. She placed them on the table and also placed a small vial beside the jug. She gave Tyler another nervous smile, nodded at Ivar, left the room and closed the door.

  “Your English is quite good,” Tyler told Ivar as the man stood to get the jug and the bowl.

  “English is taught in Sweden. But German was more popular before the war. Just before I entered college, English was made a second language in my country. Let me fix the water first.”

  Tyler watched as Ivar lifted the jug and looked at the bottom of the container. He then placed his left fingertips on the bottom and whispered something. Satisfied, he gave the jug to Tyler.

  “Water purification magic as you may call it,” explained Ivar, “there’s a rune etched at the bottom of the jug. It’s usually effective for a month or so but it would be impolite to ask the hosts about it. I charged the rune for them. The water is now safe to drink. Most of the water sources around here are safe but it’s better to be sure about those things. Unless you want to be on intimate terms with the outhouse.”

  Tyler took the jug.

  “Would it be okay to drink straight from the jug?”

  “Yes, the purification rune continuously cleans the entire thing. Though I apologize for our hosts not providing a cup.”

  Ivar took the jug from Tyler after he drank and showed him the bowl. It had a wooden spoon.

  “Some sort of gruel. Still warm. Don’t ask me what it is. Have no idea. But definitely food. Your body can’t take in regular solid food as of now. You want me or Helga to feed you? Your left arm could be a problem.”

  “Can I now sit up at least? If I can, then it’s good. The bowl on my lap and I can use my right hand.”

  “I guess so. The healing I did should be in effect up to now. Does the area around your wound still feel warm?

  “Yes.”

  “Then you can sit up. The healing effect should stop any bleeding from the movement and the pain you feel now won’t increase.”

  Tyler sat up on the bed, with the healer helping him with the movement. The bowl was placed on his blanket covered lap and he started eating.

  Ivar returned to his chair and waited for Tyler to finish. After the bowl was empty, he took the bowl and returned it to the table. He picked up the vial and gave it to Tyler.

  “Drink this. It’s a health potion. For more healing and stamina.”

  Tyler drank and returned the empty vial to the Swede who placed it in in a robe pocket.

  “That wasn’t bad,” Tyler said, commenting on the food, “tasted like oatmeal with honey. That potion smelled and tasted alcoholic, with a sharp bite and some sweet aftertaste.”

  “The potion is based on mead, with some healing mixtures. The sweet taste is probably honey to mitigate the bitterness of the other active ingredients. Healers have different versions of health potions. Helga’s potions are better than some.”

  “Can we continue with the lecture? Information is a premium for me now. I hope you understand,” asked Tyler who remained sitting up, legs crossed, the blanket covering him up to his waist.

  “I should charge you for this,” joked Ivar.

  “The check is in the mail.”

  “I know you have a lot of questions,” said the Gothi, “so did I, when I first arrived. But there will be questions I will have no answers to or cannot answer because of some… constraints. Divine constraints, to be more truthful. Divine as in the deities of this world. Not The Divine as in the Creator, God, Allah or Yahweh, depending on one’s religious leanings. After I finish replying to what I can answer, you can tell me what you know about Earth’s history from the time I left up to the time you found yourself here. Agreed?”

  “No problem. Ivar, why do I now feel so calm about this entire situation? I was starting to get angry when I woke up. A homicidal arrow stuck in your body tends to do that. Come to think of it, why did I readily agree to your offer? I should be asking you about the reason why, considering you mentioned letting go your life on Earth.”

  “Helga’s potions usually have a mild sedative effect. Though in your case, I asked her to make it a bit stronger. I was worried that your… hmmm … unique circumstances would not only make you angry but also violent. Strange but I could feel your anger way out in the yard when you woke up. The increased dosage of that particular potion also had the nice side effect of creating a somewhat trusting discernment on the part of the patient. Don’t get me wrong. But generally, health potions here have the same sedative, or to be more specific, calming, effect. It makes things easier for the patient. And also the healer, if the healer is present. Like me.”

  “And your reason for being interested in the information?” Tyler asked, latching on to the idea, feeling the need to have a counterpoint to his drugged state of mind.

  “You really have a stubborn, unique and perceptive mind, my friend,” remarked the Gothi, “But a time for confessions, I believe. Better to strengthen your trust than break it later.”

  “For one, this body, or your image of it,” continued the Gothi, using both hands to point to himself, “is an illusion.”

  The Gothi murmured something and suddenly, a younger version of Ivard appeared. A young man who appeared to be of Tyler’s age. He looked at Tyler and smiled.

  “You’re as old as me, Mr. Gothi,” Tyler dryly observed.

  Privately, he noted his lack of surprise at the abrupt change in the appearance of the man beside him.

  “Freaking organic Valium!” he thought, “I wonder if I can get some sort of regular prescription for it. I think I really need it. For the next few months at least.”

  “As I said, time passes slowly here… Havard,” the Gothi answered, recalling Tyler’s other name, “it has been a little more than eight months since I arrived. I have been told that the Earth to Adar time difference is around 1:75. One month here equals 75 Earth months, more or less. They do have a different way of reckoning time here so what I have is an approximation. The time dilation has to do with the magical nature of this world. Other than that, I don’t know anything more. So, as you can see, technically, I am also a recent guest.”

  “Who told you about the time difference?” Tyler asked, satisfying his divergent bent.

  “Ah, I am sorry but I can’t tell you.”

  “Can’t or won’t?”

  “Can’t. One of those limitations I told you about. You’re smart, Havard, you can figure it out.”

  “How can I be sure that’s not another illusion?” Tyler remarked, pointing to Ivar.

  “Not only stubborn and perceptive but also suspicious. You’re fighting the effects of the potion, aren’t you,” said the Gothi with another laugh.