“Don’t tell me you’re scared,” commented Tyler.
“I’ll admit it. But only to you. I am terrified of what’s coming. Unknown enemies. Events hidden behind thick and far-reaching veils of deceit. Dark and powerful beings are stirring. Father Zeus was right. Storms are coming. Mighty ones,” Dionysus softly answered. “And it appears you’re going to be in the middle of most of them.”
Tyler gulped and stopped.
“You do realize that you’re talking about a mortal. A First Mage, maybe, but still seriously lacking in power and experience,” the unbelieving Tyler retorted.
“Power is not everything. The use of it, even a fraction, in the right time and place is more important. You can be as powerful as Father Zeus and Lord Odin combined but will that affect the strands of fate when one needs to stop a warrior, at a certain moment, hundreds of miles away? What if, unknown to you, a mad master mage is about to open a Gate to a nefarious plane? All the power in the world won’t change those events.”
“Now don’t scare me too!” he protested.
“I can only say what I perceive to be the future,” said Dionysus. “And as a friend, it is my obligation to tell you what I see. Better forewarned than wading into events like a bat in broad daylight.”
Despite himself, Tyler had to smile at the deity’s comment.
“You’re right. But first things first. Jorund awaits.”
“He does. By the grace of Lord Odin, he does,” answered Dionysus.
They finally reached the palace square. It was already getting dark though the last rays of the sun were still in the sky. Security was tight, with the guards accompanied by dogs. The presence of the canine watch didn’t surprise the mage. He assumed it was Athena’s decree considering the influx of lamias and other dire creatures. Many of the guards had enchanted weapons. The mage could feel the magic in them. Not that powerful but enough to deal with what they were guarding against in the city.
Passing through three rows of barricades and picket lines, they climbed up wide marble stairs up to the square. Magelights and torches kept the area well illuminated. From the bottom of the steps, Tyler could see the top of the palace. It was apparent that the minor god enjoyed playing at being king and added improvements. The color of the new additions contrasted with the weathered tone of the previous structures. As he ascended, he could see more of the palace. He had to admit it looked impressive though the additions now gave it a temple-like veneer. Finally, they reached the top of the steps.
Before him was a vast and open paved area. It was filled with bodies tightly lined up in rows, each covered by a royal blue cloth. On the opposite side of the square was a broad platform. On it was a solitary stone dais. It was located just before another flight of wide steps leading to the palace itself. A body was on it covered by a red, blue, and black mantle. Jorund. The sight made him stop and catch his breath. Seeing the body was a like having a fist hit between his ribcage. He fought back the tears starting to rise and the weakness which assaulted his legs. He was thankful that the staff gave him something to hold on.
“Athena’s color,” said Dionysus.
“What?”
“I said Athena’s color. The color of the cloth covering the bodies,” explained the god of wine. “I thought you would ask about them, so I told you about it.”
“Oh. I guess the colors covering Jorund’s body are Odin’s colors.”
“Yes. Though if you look closely, you could see the attendants waiting for you and an old man.”
“I see them. And that old man would be that Incan guide?”
“He’s already very concerned about events down south. Giving the time you asked for was a weighty dispensation for him. I think he likes you too.”
“I needed that time off even though it lasted for only three days. But there’s so many dead,” said Tyler, waving his hand at the field.
“Ah. That was a hard-fought fight. The dead here are not only warriors. They include other inhabitants of the city. They fought for Akrotiri. If not with sword and spear, then by building barricades, helping the wounded, bringing food and needed items, and for many, paying the ultimate sacrifice. It was inspiring. I was so frustrated and saddened that I was forbidden to participate. Fighting for one’s city! Now that’s something I would dare Tartarus for! But rules are rules. But to be frank, what I saw made me decide to make this city also my own. But come, let’s pay our respects.”
As they walked through the bodies, the scene reminded Tyler of what he saw back in Scarburg. Though on a bigger scale. Families and loved ones gathered around bodies.
“Why are the bodies still here? Aren’t they supposed to be buried already?” he asked Dionysus.
“Some had been buried. A field outside the city is set aside for the fallen. But those still here await their loved ones. Last farewells before the priests start to sanctify their bodies before burial. See those unarmed men in groups around the square? Priests and those who will bury the dead. Though the bodies should be buried by tomorrow morning.”
Tyler finally reached Jorund’s body. The huskarl’s battleaxe was laid on top of the shroud. Beside it were two women in gleaming armor. Jorund was standing beside the body, armored and with another battleaxe at his back. Viracocha kept his distance. Astrid and Habrok stood to his left side though he knew Jorund and the Valkyries were visible only to him, the wine god, and Viracocha.
“Hail, sire,” said Jorund’s spirit.
“Hail, Jorund. Though I guess I am not your sire anymore.”
“Nonsense, sire. You will always be my lord.”
“But you lose your memory once you enter Valhalla. I did ask for your return, but Lord Odin said his hands are tied.”
“The ways of the gods,” replied Jorund. “Mighty yet limited. I go to Valhalla but there is one thing I would wish from you, sire.”
“Ask, Jorund.”
The huskarl walked towards him.
“Your abilities are growing, sire. Even I could see that. When the time comes that you have the power to restore memories to an old einherjar, promise me that you will come and call me back to your service,” Jorund whispered as he got close to Tyler.
“Of course, Jorund. But is that possible?” Tyler whispered back.
“Tyndur did it,” softly said Jorund.
Realization ran over Tyler like a runaway freight train. Renewed hope blazed through him. I was so immersed in my pathetic self-pity that I missed that! I didn’t even get the hints from Hal and X! Stupid!
“I will, Jorund. I promise.”
“And watch over that womanizing maniac for me. Tell him he’s also like a brother to me. Astrid is turning out fine, I see. She does need some skill with the bow. And, my lord?”
“Yes, Jorund?” Tyler noticed the huskarl went back to calling him by his old title.
“You’re right. Deities should guide, not rule. And I will follow a man who fights for mortals before I go with a deity,” said Jorund in a low voice. Then he smiled. “I guess it’s time for me to go. I’ve kept these ladies waiting long enough. And please tell Habrok he’ll have a hard time with the Valkyries on Asgard. They could smell a kveldulfr from a mile away.”
“Goodbye, Jorund.”
The huskarl again smiled and disappeared together with the two Valkyries.
Tyler stood silent for a while. He watched Jorund’s body and then stared at the sky.
There is nothing more I would like right now but to go back to Eira. Things are moving too fast. No time to breathe. Surviving Adar seemed to be just an idea before. A crucial one of course but seeing Jorund’s body brings home the painful reality of death. More importantly, the death of people who relied on me. In my situation, I believe I deemed myself dead when I first arrived. As for me, I’ll accept that my first thought was I absolutely had no chance to survive. But that may have changed in some small way. I do have a chance to survive and somebody to live for. I just hope and pray that Eira won’t be standing alone in some place in the
future and gazing at my dead body. That is if there’s a body. Alone. Well, some friends would be there. But Aunt Emily won’t be. I think that would be best. Come to think of it, I really pray that Aunt Emily is coping and those meth mofos won’t bother her. This is beyond depressing, thinking like this. I guess I have to get back to the matter at hand.
“Habrok,” he called. The ranger came to him.
“Jorund told me to tell you that you’re like a brother to him,” said Tyler.
“That he is to me, sire. He has always been there for me. Teaching me how to fight better. Reining me in in my stupid moments. Giving me advice.” The man’s shoulders slumped. The mage could see how despondent the ranger was.
“And he also told me you’d find it difficult to get women on Asgard,” added the mage who then proceeded to tell Habrok the rest of what Jorund said.
“Really? Not a good idea to die then. I’ll keep to mortal women, thank you very much,” replied the ranger but with some disappointment in his voice. “I knew there was something wrong with those fancy armor and weapons as depicted in sagas and pictures!”
“Well, don’t let Astrid hear you. She’s one in waiting.”
“Oh. I forgot,” said Habrok, while stealing a glance at Astrid to see if she heard what he said.
“Habrok, I am not familiar with Norse traditions about burying the dead. Can you handle it?”
“Yes, sire. But burying? We don’t do that for true warriors. A funeral pyre for Jorund would be proper.”
“Yes, I think that’s the Norse way,” said Viracocha who had joined them. Tyler didn’t notice the Incan as he entered the discussion. The deity was in the guise of an old man, similar to his image before. He did look like a brother to the Gandhi image he showed Tyler the first time they met.
“Call me Wilan,” came the voice of the Incan deity in his mind. “For Wilancha. Meaning ‘sacrifice’. I did have to sacrifice my freedom to be back in the Game. Difficult. But the death of my son and others of my family forced my hand. I cannot stand by and watch them and my people die.”
Habrok looked at the old man and then looked at Tyler.
“Oh, this is Wilan. An Incan mage. He’ll be our guide and the means for going to warmer places down south,” explained Tyler. He noticed Astrid walking towards their group.
Suddenly, the Incan deity crumpled to the ground. Though initially alarmed, Tyler immediately went to Viracocha who was limply trying to get up. The mage put his hand on the old man’s back, trying to support him.
“One of my main temples is being destroyed,” he whispered. Then his eyes had a far-away look for some seconds. He shook his head and looked at Tyler. “A raid. Ten thousand strong. There’s still fighting going on, but they got into my temple. They’re starting to destroy it. And defiling it with some substance they’re spreading inside. If they finish what they’re doing, I lose part of my power and I won’t be able to fast travel to that area anymore.”
While Tyler was helping the old man stand up with Astrid and Habrok looking on, a voice sounded at their back.
“I came, summoned by a deity who sounded the call. Amidst a field of death, I arrived and to mine eyes, a scene. Of worried minds and troubled brows. Ahhh, the hell with it, just tell me what’s happening here?”
They all looked at the speaker.
It was Tyndur.
“Tyndur! What are you doing here?” exclaimed the surprised Tyler. Habrok also had the same expression on his face. Astrid, on the other hand, had hands on her xiphoi though she didn’t draw them from their sheaths.
“Well, those gods found out where I was. My stupid concealment artifact couldn’t help when Lord Odin was within fifty feet of where I was hiding. I wonder whose fault was that?” said Tyndur while walking towards them.
Must be upset. He’s talking regularly for a change. Odin found him? Then he remembered the ring the deity gave him. Oh. That made it easier for Mr. Five-Steps-Ahead. He got me again. What a wily old fox.
“I’m sorry, Tyndur. But we can discuss that later. Our Incan guide suddenly collapsed,” replied Tyler, trying to get Viracocha to sit up. Dionysus was already at his side helping him. The mage could feel the energy from the god of wine as he attempted to heal and rejuvenate the Incan god.
“It’s working,” whispered Dionysus. “A temple’s destruction shouldn’t have this effect. I guess it’s that strange substance they’re using to defile his sanctuary.”
“Thank you, Master Dio,” said Viracocha in a low voice. “I think I have recovered now, but there’s continuous pain. I guess you’re right. That material they’re spreading must be responsible for this anomaly. The situation is dire. We must leave immediately.”
The Incan weakly stood up and went to the other side of Jorund’s bier. Dionysus followed him. Tyler looked at the three mortals, gestured for them to wait, and went to join the two deities. He noticed Astrid had removed her hands from her swords, but they were now on the throwing axes slung on her belt. Habrok also maintained some distance between him and Tyndur. He didn’t bring out his bow though his hands were positioned near his longsword and knife.
“I am getting better now. My being has adjusted to the loss of energy. And by all the gods of Adar! This is the first time in millennia I have felt such pain!” uttered Viracocha.
Dionysus’s face looked upset and angry.
“This is also the first time I have heard of such a thing! Matters are indeed dire if those enemies of yours have acquired such an ability,” the wine god said in a low but furious voice. “I have to inform Father Zeus.”
“Wait a minute,” said Tyler. “I know things are bad. No, make that terrible. But I still have Jorund’s funeral to arrange and Eira doesn’t know about the immediate need to go to the south. I thought I would have time to at least say goodbye. On top of that, I have Tyndur here and I don’t know why.”
“I understand your concerns, First Mage,” said Viracocha. “But that shrine sits at an important juncture between the Inka Kingdom and the Etruscan League. It serves a lot of purposes. To lose that temple means wavering support from the Etruscans and a decrease in my powers. Not to mention the resulting inability to access the area and the need to examine what reprehensible element the Aztecah is using to defile my temple. They may leave no traces of it after destroying the sanctuary. We have to stop them.”
“Let’s settle this now. Regrettably, I do have to agree with Lord Viracocha. But I think I have a solution. You can leave Habrok to arrange the funeral. He can follow you later. That new arrival will have to wait until you return. But I sense he’s not mortal. Not anymore. About your girlfriend, I’ll give you a better solution,” said Dionysus as he held out a stunning gold necklace with a diamond pendant.
“You can infuse this with a tiny bit of your energy. Similar to what you do when creating magelights. But be careful. Too much and we’ll be picking diamond shards from our clothes. It will let Eira know you’re fine as long as the energy within shines. If it goes out, then she’ll know the worse has happened. In that event, you’ll escape her anger at you being dead. I know women,” added Dionysus. Tyler saw an arched eyebrow on Viracocha’s face in reaction to the last statement. But the Incan didn’t say anything though even the mage was befuddled by it.
Tyler immediately did what Dionysus instructed. But mindful of the warning, he was cautious in the amount of energy placed inside the gem. It first blazed with a white light when he finished and then settled to a steady and muted glimmer.
“But who is going to bring it to her?” asked Tyler.
“Same way I found you. Geros Gis,” came the reply from Dionysus who then handed him a small pouch. “And before I forget, here’s also something for their temples.”
As I said, things are moving too fast. The mage held out his hand to receive the pouch. He could feel some slight trembling in his fingers. It appears my mind and body are feeling the strain.
As he quickly took the pouch, avoiding anybody noticing hid shaking ha
nd, Tyler could feel that it was full of pebbles the size of toy marbles.
“It’s a bit heavy,” he said. “What is it?”
“Hephaestus’s stones. I have been prohibited from directly engaging in that war,” sighed Dionysus. “Father Zeus knew what was on my mind. But avoiding a greater war seems to be in fashion these days. Though I strongly believe that sometimes avoiding a dangerous beast will lead to a bigger beast to confront in the future. I have other thoughts about the situation, but I’ll keep them to myself. Even if it may involve the insult inflicted on me by that attack on the inn. But make those stones count! I’ll be delighted if you leave a trail of destroyed Aztecah temples on your way back!”
Bloodthirsty indeed. And a budding temple-wrecker too.
“How do I activate these stones? They won’t blow up on me?” asked Tyler as he realized the implications of carrying the magical equivalent of tons of high explosives with him.
“Oh, they’re harmless unless activated. Hard like rocks. You can throw one at Habrok and it won’t go boom! But he’ll probably have a nasty concussion. You still need to imbue it with energy. As much as you can manage. Each has a threshold before it becomes active. Too low and it remains a small stone. You either throw it at the target or infuse the energy from a distance. Your choice of destruction,” clarified Dionysus.
“But how about you? I thought you were saving it for that sweetheart of yours?” queried the mage.
“Sweetheart! Hah! If I could, I’d cover her with those things! Don’t worry about it. I can get Hephaestus to make me another batch. That’s my entire supply, by the way.”
“Thanks, Dio. I appreciate this gesture. It does scare me silly carrying this pouch, but I believe I will need it,” said Tyler. He then turned to Viracocha.
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