by Eric Ugland
“Which is?”
“Transform you into one of them.”
“Okay, that’s not good. Can you—”
“I am doing it now. Be quiet.”
He muttered something while squeezing and prodding at me. I saw glowing symbols emerge in the air, swirl around, and then shoot into my body.
My side burned, like fire was straight cooking out my innards. I was about to yell when the old man slapped his hand over my mouth, and pulled me down to his level until we were looking eye to eye.
“Apologies for the pain,” he said. “Magic is often painful.”
The burning started to subside.
“You think you could teach me something?”
“Are you able to wield mystic arts?”
“Yeah, can some people not?”
“Not all are gifted with the—”
“That’s lame.”
“’Tis the will of the Gods.”
“Okay, well, I have the ways and means to throw down the magic. I just need some more learning.”
He just gave me a wry smile, then let me stand up while he examined my side again. I looked down and saw just my abdomen. No blackness.
“You must keep an eye on this area,” he said with a rather hard poke. “It may not have gone away completely.”
I nodded. “Maybe you can teach me that spell then.”
He raised an eyebrow at me. “I doubt you have the experiences for that.”
“Oh?”
“What spells have you already?”
“Heal others.”
“Good for a level one mage. Very useful. Makes people love you in groups. What else?”
“Humus.”
“I’m sorry?”
I reached for the spell, then felt the magic flow through my hand. A cubic foot of dirt appeared at the base of his bed, then spread out.
“Summon dirt?” the old man said. “I did not even know it was a spell. But I suppose there might be a use for it.”
“Then I’ve got two identify spells.”
“Now what is your Choice?”
“Uh, well—”
“Perhaps I should do a little identification on you, should you not mind.”
“Uh, no. Sure, go ahead.”
The man put his hand on my head and muttered a few words. I felt a rush of warmth. The old man pulled his hand back and looked at me with a raised eyebrow.
“I am intrigued,” he said. “I have yet to hear of your race. Fallen, what is that?”
“I don’t know.”
“I, uh, how do you not know?”
“I just don’t.”
He scratched his head, then sat down at his desk. “And a nothing — do you know why you have chosen this as your Choice?”
“I don’t know what a Choice is.”
“You are a most interesting subject. Should we remain trapped here, and you survive, I would be most curious to study you.”
“Weirdest flirtation ever. And what do you mean trapped? How long have you been down here?”
“Ever since the days the Emperor’s edict was announced. We lived in relative seclusion in our lab, and we were making progress like we never had before—”
“Sorry to interrupt, but who is the we? I’ve only found you down here so far.”
“I suppose I am all that’s left if you have encountered and defeated the thralls.”
“Yeah, they’re mostly just goo in the lounge now. And the door in there, the one to the castle, it’s locked up tight now.”
“The locking would be his interference, I suppose.”
“His?”
“Everything changed when he arrived. We had a pool, you see. Connecting to the lake, and we would get fish and algae through there. Quite a bit of our food came from there. Some, obviously, from our greenhouse, but most from the pool. We wanted no one to know we were here, mind you, so we were living fully supplied by resources below the surface. Had we known of the monster the lake held, we would have made other arrangements, I promise you that.”
“You sound defensive,” I said.
“Some, in the past, have accused us of being willing to traffic with terrible monsters to gain additional powers. But this was not the case here. He came and we—”
“Any chance you’re referring to a Jellied Demon?”
He chuckled. “I wish it were that simple. The he I reference is an Agachnern.”
“Bless you?”
“Save your blessings. I have been cursed already; it is too late for me. You know nothing of the Agachnern, then.”
“Nope, never heard of it.”
“The Agachnern are deadly foes. Very intelligent. Powerful psychics. Some say that people are only around because the Agachnern remain in the waters. This one, he swam in, and took us over one by one. He played us as fiddles, turning us against each other until we were fighting and not paying attention. By the time I realized what had happened, it was too late. He forced my hand, and…”
The old man stopped talking. He looked down at his hands, tears tumbling down his face and beard.
Immediately, I knew what he’d done and how terrible he felt.
“I always was the strongest,” he said, his voice small and weak, “and I thought I had kept myself in check. But my hubris caught me, and Koth M’gog, the Agachnern struck. We were all stuck in here, but my friends expired. Then it was only me, the Agachnern, and his minions. Since then, I have been forced to do his bidding. To put my research to his ends. I have lost all sense of time. Of everything, really.”
“Okay, so there’s a big mean bastard called an Agachoo, and we need to kick his ass and then you’re free.”
“If it were only that simple.”
“Pretty sure that it is that simple, dude.”
“You cannot simply use your oversized axe to cut the creature apart.”
“Why?”
“Beyond the Agachnern being underwater and your axe not able to swing there?”
“Minor issue.”
“He is smarter than you. Smarter than me. He has met my attempts at rebellion and dissent at every turn, and he has won. I am little better than his slave.”
“There’s two of us now.”
“I admire your optimism, but—”
“But nothing. You got a name?”
“Morcant Treweek.”
“Montana,” I said, holding my hand out and then clasping his wrist when he didn’t make a move to grab mine. “Now, Morcant, here’s the deal: you can choose to remain a slave, and you’ll probably live, well, forever. Or you can come with me and fight. You might live, you might die. But you’ll be free either way.”
He paused, and seemed to give my plagiarized speech a moment’s thought, so I decided to keep going.
“Say you stay, and live. Laying in your bed many years from now, would you be willing to trade all the days from this day for one chance, just one chance to—”
“Save the cheap rhetoric for the plebeians and fools, Montana. I see what you attempt to do. I accept your offer to free me, and I will fight with you.”
Morcant Treweek has offered you a QUEST!
Freedoooom!
Morcant Treweek has been trapped by a horrific monster for more decades than you’ve been alive. Or even considered thinking about. Even though you weren’t able to complete William Wallace’s speech, will you free him from the evil clutches of the Agachnern?
Reward: [unknown]
Yes/No
I thought, yes to accept the quest.
“Great!” I said, clapping my hands together. “Now teach me some magic.”
The old man shook his head with a wry smile.
“There are three means to learning magic, young Montana,” he said. “First, learning the hard way. You study the concepts of magic, you understand the core rules of the universe and you bend the universe to your will in the manner you wish. This is the most powerful way to learn, as you can tailor the magic to do whatever it is you would like, rather than
memorizing individual spells. Second, you find a book, a magical item in and of itself, and you read the book. In doing so, you gain the potential to learn the spell.”
“It’s not guaranteed?”
“No. Not in the slightest. It is predicated entirely on your magical capabilities and affinities. If you cannot learn the spell, you will be subjected to quite intense pain. Even death if the spell is substantially over your means.”
“And the easy way?”
“I give you all the spells I have.”
“I’ll take door three please.”
“With the giving of spells, there are serious issues to take into consideration. One, I must give all my spells to you at once.”
“Got it.”
“Which means you must be able to take them all. It is an immense amount of pain for your body to handle and for your brain to process. Two, it means I no longer have access to any of those spells. I must relearn them all.”
“Noted. Door three, not an option. Got any of those books?”
“I do. But the spell books I own will not likely help us against Koth M’gog. I only made such books for potential lab assistants, so regretfully, I have no offensive spell books.”
“Okay,” I said. “No new spells for me. So, let’s go find M’gog. Ideas?”
“He is likely searching for food. There has been little these days, and he is constantly hungry. He was overzealous eating the tribe early on, and now they are a fraction of what he had originally, and he needs them to get more food for him.”
“There’s a tribe? Are they, uh, loyal?”
“Nothing is truly loyal to an Agachnern. Koth M’gog uses the tribe as vessels. He takes them over, and forces the tribe members to do his wishes. Likely, you will be forced to kill many of them before you even get a chance to confront M’gog. He is, at heart, a coward. All Agachnern are. They are virtually immortal, immune to the ravages of old age, and they will always run away rather than fight a battle they might lose.”
“These things sound like ultimate assholes.”
“They are vile.”
“He definitely took over the guy I was with, but he’s tied up now. So, hopefully we don’t need to worry about him. Now, you said you got a lab?”
“Yes.”
“Can I see it?”
He hesitated a moment, then shrugged, and led me out the door.
We went back down the hall and into the lounge, where Red was awake and struggling with his bonds. Morcant led me through another door, which led into another fucking hallway. There were two doors in this hallway, the further one open a bit. I could see the reflection of the glow crystals off of the water, which made me think that had to be the pool room.
The door in the middle of the hallway led into a massive rooms that looked pretty close to a modern laboratory. There were heavy stone desks spread around, and shelves and closets lined the walls. Notably, one corner of the room held a pool of water, large, dark, disturbing.
“Our library is in the far room there, and the magical item storage is there,” Morcant pointed to another door.
“The pool?” I asked.
“An addition for Koth M’gog. The Agachnern cannot be out of water. Thus, he wanted a means to see me and talk to me in every room save my bedroom.”
“So there are tunnels?”
“Yes, they lead all around us. To each and every room.”
“Why doesn’t M’gog leave and go back to the lake?”
“In our fighting, one of my brother-wizards collapsed the tunnel to the lake. He believed he would be able to starve the rest of us, and he would be the only one left alive.”
“Same guy made the tunnels to each room?”
“Under control of the Koth M’gog, yes. The collapse of the connection to the lake happened later. Up to that point, we all thought Bern had just grown attached to the idea of burrowing and making tunnels.”
“Not a spell you know?”
“I have little affinity for the magics twisting earth and rock.”
The surface of the water in the pool rippled, and I couldn’t help myself, I walked closer.
But it was so dark inside, I couldn’t see a damn thing.
“Morcant,” I said, “these crystal lights, can they be moved?”
“Yes.”
“Can you toss one in the water?”
I wasn’t watching Morcant, so I don’t know how he did it, but a crystal sailed over my head, plopped into the water, and shone a light on hell.
Chapter 45
“Holy fucking shit,” I shouted, and scrambled back from the pool as fast as my trembling arms and legs would carry me.
The Agachnern sprung out of the water, spraying liquid everywhere as mass of toothy tentacles lunged for me.
One grabbed my leg, but luckily it was still covered in jellied demon goop. The tentacle flexed to solidify its hold, but my leg slipped free, and I scrambled out of reach.
I felt a great pressure around my head, as if my skull was caught in a vise that someone was wrenching shut. I curled myself into a ball, holding my head, instinctively trying to protect myself. The pressure increased, shrinking the world around me until it was just the space inside my skull. Slowly, from deep inside, I felt my reptilian brain awakening, pushing back. It roared, screaming that we were powerful, we were strong, and we weren’t to be fucked around with. So a little human survival instinct and a healthy dash of American Exceptionalism allowed me to open my eyes through the pain.
Koth M’gog glared at me with far too many eyes, all glowing a hideous deep vermillion red.
I staggered to my feet, glaring right back at the calamari-lookin’ motherfucker.
Now, bear in mind, Agachnern don’t have much in the way of human features. Multiple eyes, tentacles coming out of where his face should be, a massive bulging body with fins. And just to make it all weird, they have two big fuck-off arms with massive claws on the ends of their three four-jointed fingers. That said, pretty sure he wasn’t expecting me to stand up.
And he definitely wasn’t expecting me to draw my axe.
I spun the weapon in my hands once. Then, fast as I could, hurled it horizontally at the Agachnern.
The axe practically whistled through the air, but the Agachnern wasn’t a dummy, dropping into the water, and out of the way as my best weapon made a massive splash before sinking under the rippling surface.
I could probably swim down and grab it, but I knew going anywhere near his territory would just be the end of me. For the time being, I was down to the stolen sword.
“Impressive,” Morcant said from behind me.
“I’m sorry?” I asked, turning to face the little old man.
“You survived your first meeting with Koth M’gog.”
“Didn’t seem that hard, really.”
“Most any sentient creature would have walked willingly into his mouth.”
“Which brings up a good question: why haven’t you?”
Morcant brought up a pendant from beneath his ratty shirt. “I was wearing this at the time he arrived, and I have yet to remove it. Protects me from psychic attacks.”
“Useful.”
“It is likely the only thing that has kept me alive.”
Given his tone, I could tell he was about to launch into his life story again. I was growing weary of his stories, especially since the more that I listened to the tail of Koth M’gog and The Wizard Friends, the less it made sense. Like, if Morcant was never under the sway of Koth, why had he been fighting so hard with his buddies?
I figured I could waste a lot of energy trying to figure out the story, or I could just kill the Agachnern asshole and get back into the rest of the world.
“Okay, so that’s the agachnern,” I said. “Strong.”
“Very,” agreed Morcant.
“Fast.”
“Reasonably.”
“And you said cowardly.”
“After a fashion. He will not go to a stand-up fight, if that is what you
are thinking. He will wait you out. Ambush you. Find you at your weakest and then take you.”
“Okay, so we have to bring the fight to him. Can he hear us right now?”
“That I do not know.”
“But we can expect his tribe to attack us?”
“They will likely attack you. I am not sure how Koth sees me at the moment. If he is willing to sacrifice my ability to research for him just because I might assist you.”
“Got it. So these tribesmen, are they big and fast?”
“No. They are small, and mind-controlled.”
“And I’m guessing ol’ M’Gog doesn’t exactly have the best fighting skills on land.”
“I have yet to be impressed with his land skills. And outside of his control, the tribe are innocent and rather delightful—”
“Focus, buddy. Let’s get back to the fight. Any chance you’ve got some big fuck-off spear somewhere in the building?”
“It is possible there is something that matches your eloquent description in the store room. I fear I did not work with weapons much.”
He waited there for a moment, and then I gestured that he should lead because, well, I had no fucking idea where anything in the damn underground bunker might be. Morcant led me over to a door, which I opened, and saw a room full of shelves and chests. No racks of weapons.
I sighed, and started pawing through everything, looking for anything useful. Bonus, I had to ask Morcant what nearly everything was because each time I picked up a magic item and tried to identify it, I got:
You’ve found a [????]. Identify the item to learn more.
Super useful.
There was a ton of random crap in the room. The bulk of it seemed as if came from people experimenting on items with no real direction, academic interest with no real-world uses. So you know, mostly esoteric eccentric nonsense. Earrings to let you speak with ants. A monkey paw that was still alive and working despite the rest of the monkey being, well, missing. A journal that could record events as it saw them, which meant it was full of descriptions of the box and the shelf where it was stored. A helm of encouragement. And so on.