“Concern about the undead plague I could understand, but why would humans be worried about the current war between Ymir and Sutr?”
“The two have a history of trying to grab each other’s territory and power, so a new war between them is nothing new. What I am concerned about is the arena of conflict. It could become widespread and go beyond the borders of their respective domains. If that happens, our neighbors – Skaney, the Pelasgians, Hellas – are all going to be burned or frozen, depending on which entity starts trying to outflank the other. Unfortunately, that includes this land. If the war goes on long enough, Kemet and the Dual Monarchy also have to worry.”
Tyler thought about it for a while. The concern of Sarva was a real possibility, he finally concluded.
“And the undead plague?” he asked again.
“Now that’s what’s strange. It's clear the ruler of the Norse underworld had nothing to do with it as I heard she and Thor are currently trying to keep shut certain gates of Hel leading to its deeper parts. Hellas is also starting to find itself to be in the same situation as well as some northern parts of Kemet,” answered Sarva. “I did ask our mutual friend about it, but all it would say was that the blight appears to arise from the ground, but in reality, was dimensional in its origins. A very complex spell, I believe that’s the description.”
It? Not a deity then. It does sound like an Elder temple. The pantheons are still trying to find out the cause of the plague, and here, the answer is already found. The dimensional part is puzzling though.
“How about here? Are you affected by the undead?” queried the curious mage.
“We have the protection of your friend. The Barrens and all the lands around us could turn into an undead wasteland, but our realm will remain free of their taint. Not that we would want that to happen. But the war of fire and ice is another matter.”
“Quite a power to help you, if I may say so,” agreed Tyler. “But I am curious about your people, Sarva. I admit I have been trying to identify the origins of this civilization. Oh, I know about the realm beyond the cliffs, which is an illusion for ordinary humans.”
“I expected you would see through that mirage. Three cities and numerous towns. But only with a population large enough to sustain my existence and regain some of my former power. Nothing else. My brethren would have to remain in the ether. But it would be impractical to tell you what my people called themselves, as their language is one not spoken anywhere else on Adar or on the First World. They simply call themselves The People. Our Sumerian neighbors do remember us and call us Meluhhaites and our land on the First World as the black land, or Meluhha.”
“Where exactly on the First World was it located?” asked the mage, trying hard to think about the ancient civilizations he had read about or seen on historical documentaries.
“A great land was inhabited by The People on the First World, with hundreds of cities and settlements. It was an advanced civilization for its day, but unfortunately lacking in the arts of war. It had its beginnings at the foot of a vast mountain range on top of which was a great plateau, along a great river leading to the sea. Fertile soil, rich mines, and at the beginning, the presence of deities willing to uplift their followers.”
Tyler quickly ran through the ancient civilizations he remembered – eliminating those he had already met or heard about but didn’t match what he had seen. Only one possibility remained. He stopped and looked at Sarva.
“There could be only one possibility. The People came from what we on the First World now call the Indus Valley. Traces remain there of your civilization. Scholars on the First World call it the Harappan or the Mohenjo-daro culture. The names actually came from the present settlements near where the first cultural remnants were found. It was said to be more technologically advanced than what the ancient Sumerians and Egyptians had. It vanished, and numerous theories have been put forward to explain the disappearance – war, disease, flooding, drought, all the usual arguments.”
Sarva laughed.
“We are gone from that world. They could call our civilization and culture anything they want. As to why we left, a great invasion was the cause — the arrival of a numerous people, with formidable warlike deities, from across the mountains. The People really didn’t have one great empire. It was a collection of small states and cities, even large communities. Land was available for everyone with the patience and hardiness to work it, so war for territory was never an issue. Conflicts did occur, but over trivial things, the usual human failing.”
“One invasion wiped everything out?”
“No, no. It took time before The People were overwhelmed by waves of aggressively hostile tribes and their allies. With every city or town lost, the race’s strength dwindled, belief slowly disappeared. A great many deities perished. Those who survived and crossed into this world met similar fates when the newcomers entered Adar, waging war again upon the People. It's a bit more complicated still; I omitted the usual stories of betrayals, side stories, and similar seasonings rendering tales more savory to the discriminatory palates of real scholars and drama patrons. That’s why we’re a very wary people.”
Tyler just nodded as he continued walking.
What could he say about what he had just heard? It was a succinct statement of an immense tragedy spanning millennia. Driven out not once, but twice from realms they had learned to call home, the ground where they had lived their lives and buried their ancestors. Then, finally reduced to living on the borders of a cursed land. But after a few moments, the mage got the feeling that, at the back of his mind, there was something he wanted to say. But for the life of him, Tyler couldn’t remember what it was.
Sarva halted.
“Ah, I believe we’re deep enough in the forest. Appearances have to be made, but you know that, First Mage,” said the deity. The two slowly disappeared.
***
As they reappeared, Tyler saw the tall and daunting cliffs to his left. They were some distance off, around five or so miles in his estimation. The mage found that if he focused using his enhanced vision, the rocky barrier faded away and was replaced by tall trees, a continuation of the forest.
In front of him was a solid basalt wall. Real this time, though he could see a small opening at its base, an entrance just large enough for two to walk abreast. Again, it was hidden from plain sight by the entity requesting his presence.
He looked at his staff, reassured by its solid weight in his right hand. Then he thought of something, though what he originally wanted to say to Sarva still eluded him.
“Sarva, your people were numerous in the First World. How was it that the invaders won? And when you arrived here, some knowledge about warfare must have been learned by your people. How could they be driven away from their lands on Adar?”
“Ah, First Mage. Numerous indeed, millions to be exact. Though the ones who crossed the mountains into our lands were also a multitude of allied tribes with numbers augmented by their vassals who migrated with them. But it was always the story of having the wrong tools at the wrong time. On the First World, advanced warfare techniques and sheer ferocity defeated our people. They were not even able to piece together a cohesive defense. It was always the few cities or settlements which were threatened with conquest that did the fighting. The People did learn how to wage war, after a fashion. But they were facing their teachers,” replied Sarva.
“On Adar, what we learned back on the First World availed us naught. The People knew only bronze which compared poorly to iron and steel. The ancestors of the inhabitants of Skaney were also a fierce and bloodthirsty lot, worse than the invaders we faced in the First World. With the Greeks and Pelasgians, we had nothing to match the disciplined arrays and tactics of their warriors. The deities of such people during those times were… aggressive and battle-hardened. The People were blown away like leaves before a gale,” the deity continued.
“I guess you do have iron and steel weapons now,” remarked Tyler.
“In tha
t lies the story of another misfortune for The People. They learned how to forge steel and iron but found the mountains around us rich with gold and silver, but not iron ore. Nor could they compete with foreign skill in forging tools of war and the needed implements of civilization. So, they trade for iron and steel – whether in ores or finished products. We find the fear of the Barrens among the kingdoms to be to our advantage. And to them, we are a vastly reduced people living in a few scattered villages, hardly worth conquering.”
“I heard the Pelasgians were favored by Hephaestus, and their products were highly regarded,” said Tyler.
“True. Good thing we are friends with them now. Most of the weapons and tools here come from them. The People do some forging, which I encouraged, to maintain and improve their skill. It’s still comparing the skill of a neophyte to that of a master craftsman. But such discussions can wait, somebody is waiting for you,” reminded the deity.
“Aren’t you coming?” asked Tyler, a bit surprised.
“The protective barriers of our friend can be fatal to beings such as me. An innate characteristic of the field, I was told. I'll wait here.”
“Oh, sorry, I forgot that part,” apologized Tyler.
“No need for that, First Mage. It's even a good thing. The knowledge our friend has is one which should be kept from the impulsive and, may I say, short-sighted deities of this world. Though for mortals, I was informed of the reassuring fact that only a unique human could learn such knowledge,” said Sarva.
“Short-sightedness might be an understatement in that regard,” chuckled the mage as he turned and started to walk in the direction of the cave.
“First Mage,” Sarva’s voice softly called.
He looked back at Sarva. The mage noticed the deity had a sad smile on his face.
“I do know what is at stake. Our mutual friend had the good grace to tell me. I just want you to know that whatever you decide, my people and I will accept such a choice.”
“What do you mean?” asked the puzzled mage.
“Let's leave the explanation to our friend. I believe I might have mentioned too much already. But what I said stands. You have my word on it.”
The mystified Tyler just nodded.
Now, what was that all about? he asked himself.
The mage momentarily paused before entering the cave. He could see the tell-tale shimmer of an energy wall. And it was not the normal sort of magical energy.
“Safe to enter?” he asked his guides.
“We believe so, sire,” said Hal.
“No attempts to disintegrate us? No beams, blasts, or similar welcome fireworks?
“Sire, we have already talked with the Elder intelligence within. It even sent the local deity to fetch and guide you, though that part we still don’t understand and we do expect a rational explanation for such an action,” X pointed out.
Tyler suddenly thrust his hand through the barrier. Finding the appendage still whole, and reassured by the lack of pain, he went in.
He found himself back in the house he’d just left, though it was empty. It was as if he came through the door. Greatly startled, the mage glanced back. The familiar surroundings were there, but people were nowhere in sight.
“Greetings and peace be with you, First Mage,” a boy’s voice called to him. He looked at the table. There now stood a young lad, dressed in white chiton, waiting for him.
This is weird, he immediately thought. Well, weirder than the usual.
Frigg spake:
25. "Of the deeds ye two | of old have done
Ye should make no speech among men;
Whate'er ye have done | in days gone by,
Old tales should ne'er be told."
Loki spake:
26. "Be silent, Frigg! | thou art Fjorgyn's wife,
But ever lustful in love;
For Vili and Ve, | thou wife of Vithrir,
Both in thy bosom have lain."
Chapter Eleven
A Choice
Tyler closely looked at the adolescent waiting for him. He looked like one of The People, though his face had a playful countenance.
“Come on, First Mage. You traveled all the way here and couldn’t even say a polite greeting?” smiled the being, eschewing mental communication.
“Sorry, just extremely surprised. I didn’t expect such an environment for discussion and a boy waiting for me. My greetings,” he replied.
“A showoff.” Tyler heard Hal comment.
Ah, Hal, as I said, you are becoming more and more human in your thinking. Though clearly a grouchy one, the mage inwardly laughed.
“A dark cave? An isolated temple? The top of a lonely hill? We could do that if you want, but the familiar would be more conducive to conversation and a much-needed reassurance for a mortal faced with the unknown. Come, please sit down. Are you hungry? We can have food, if you're hungry. Real food, of course, unlike the illusions you see outside.”
“Thanks, but I just had a heavy breakfast. The People have been very generous hosts so far,” said the mage as he declined the invitation.
“They are hospitable. Resilient, practical, and intelligent too. I find their attitude toward life quite refreshing and encouraging, considering the bloody history of humanity in the databanks I was permitted to see. Well, part of humanity’s history anyway; my records had not been updated in a while, and I can’t accept second-hand information,” said the Elder intelligence as he sat down after Tyler finally got to a chair.
“I am actually surprised to find an Elder shrine in these parts. It’s quite near the others I have discovered so far,” he remarked.
“There were a lot of sanctuaries, Elder. The creators were obsessed with redundancy. But many were destroyed – gone forever – as a result of natural calamities and the several Divine Wars which troubled this world during the infancy of its colonization by beings from the First World,” came the reply.
“I thought the temples were sturdy enough to withstand normal magical energy blasts,” commented Tyler.
“They are, but not against being buried by mountains or swallowed by the ground. A lava flow is extremely efficacious in destroying a sanctuary. But I have given your companions what information I have on Elder temple sites, though I am not sure if they are still in such locations. Those located outside of the continent would probably be intact and undamaged. There’s even one up north,” said the being.
Please let it not be in Ymir’s or Sutr’s domain, thought Tyler, thinking about how extremely dangerous it would be looking for it in the middle of a ferocious all-out war between elemental creatures.
“It’s on the isle of Banna. They call it an island, but it’s bigger than where the Imperii Romani established their kingdom.”
“Is that the place they call the forbidden island?” asked the mage, already expecting what the answer would be.
“That’s what they call it. I admit my records show active volcanoes and sulfuric fields, but that only covers a small part of the land. It’s quite habitable. The southern part at least. Though non-human realms could be found there.”
“Non-human realms?”
“Of course! You can’t expect humans to be the only sentient species on Adar. This world had its own inhabitants, but those on the mainland were overwhelmed when the First Worlders arrived. Quite unfortunate. Some of the nascent native species appeared to be on the verge of achieving the first level of civilization.”
“The new arrivals conducted a genocidal campaign?” exclaimed Tyler.
“Not intentionally. But you know humans, the fear of the unfamiliar and the unknown usually gives rise of one of two extreme reactions – to run away or lash out with terrible ferocity. It was the latter. The new arrivals didn’t have anywhere to run to anyway,” answered the Elder guide.
“The first millennium of Adar’s colonization must have been terribly bloody,” Tyler commented, shaking his head.
“You have no idea, Elder. Brutal, cruel, and savage. Now to the rea
son for your arrival. I have already been updated by your two companions, and I understand the third is on a quest somewhere. I thank you for sparing the existence of the one you call H; his condition wasn’t his fault, merely a result of his commitment to the reason for his existence.”
“Well, I couldn’t knowingly kill any sentient form unless they posed a threat, nor could I blame H for his attacks after the matter was explained to me,” replied Tyler.
“An admirable attitude, Elder. Circumstances might have given us a candidate worthy of being an Elder Mage Prime. I am ready and willing to complete the task my creator has given me. But I fear I also leave you a difficult moral dilemma, one which you alone could resolve.”
Mage Prime?
“What do you mean?” asked Tyler. The day had been filled with unspoken words about decisions and choices, and it was beginning to unwittingly grate on his patience. Being on the receiving end of such weighty indirect references was an unfamiliar experience for him.
Another doom and gloom moment? he thought with some impatience. Couldn’t they just come out with what they want to say? A savage drake to slay? A murderous horde to stop? A powerful evil god or creature to vanquish?
“You see, after the knowledge has been transferred to you, the Elder shrine loses its power, becoming just a pile of inert material. As your experience with your guides show, by then, you will have the option of either letting me shut down or join you. Joining and assisting you would be an easy enough task considering the knowledge to create artificial bodies for us is within the tablets you seek,” explained the boy. It was disconcerting for the mage hearing such a young child talking in such a manner. The incongruity was distracting.
The youngster paused and then continued.
“If the shrine goes, so does the protection enjoyed by the people and their kingdom for millennia. The Barrens will regain lost ground, its predators hunting here again. The cliff illusion enabling this civilization to thrive will disappear. The land beyond is still part of the Barrens, and the forest will die from the wasteland’s corruption. In decades, The People will have to leave, decimated in numbers, or otherwise be extinct; it will all happen once the shrine is rendered inoperative. I knew you would want the entire picture, and an Elder mage mustn’t be burdened with the consequences of uninformed choice.”
The Accidental Archmage - Book Five: Loki's Gambit Page 12