The Accidental Archmage - Book Five: Loki's Gambit

by Edmund A. M. Batara

  WTF?

  But the stunned Tyler didn’t hear the last part of the boy’s explanation. What agonizingly stuck in his numbed mind was the godawful choice between dooming an entire people who had already suffered so much or gaining all the knowledge he had sought for so long.

  Eventually, the mage regained his composure. Yet the feeling of utter helplessness and profound bitterness remained. He could taste its bitter and acrid flavor, and his soul felt the almost unbearable burden of the stark choices laid down before him.

  Tyler looked at the boy, and this time, the liveliness was gone from its expression. The entity was looking at the top of the table, both hands clasped together. The Elder intelligence apparently didn’t like the situation nearly as much as the mage.

  The mage slowly turned his chair and looked out the door. Tyler now understood what Sarva had meant when he took his leave of the deity.

  Surely, the notion of fighting for his people entered Sarva’s mind, considered the mage. But it was an idea Tyler immediately dismissed – if conflict started, the undamaged Elder sanctuary must be duty-bound to come to his aid, considering he already had two Elder guides. That fact, the skill and might of his companions, and the enormous power he could bring to bear in such a battle, must have dissuaded Sarva. He turned his head to look at the boy.

  “Sarva’s people saw the battle against the worms, didn’t they?”

  “They did. I asked for scouts to monitor your party from the time signals were received. Cloaked in fields of my making, you couldn’t see them, and my brethren couldn’t detect them – their knowledge base being incomplete,” answered the boy.

  “No wonder Sarva didn’t think of fighting back.”

  “Sarva’s power in this world is that of a lesser god at most, though I would put it between that of a minor and lesser deity. He can’t stand against you and knows when he’s outmatched.”

  “This onerous burden you placed on my shoulders is an unexpected and unwelcome one. I struggled through so much, and now, when the knowledge I need is within my grasp, you tell me I would be committing genocide if I reach out and obtain such power. This world is unbelievably hard on me,” said Tyler calmly.

  “I am truly sorry, Elder. I had expected The People to move on and find more desirable lands for themselves, but the race was more focused on growth through peaceful technology. Warlike preparations were never in their minds. So, as you can see, expansion is far in the future. What they wanted was some way to remove or drive back the corruption in the Barrens so it could support human life again.”

  “Expansion using the lands of the Barrens then,” said the mage.

  “Using land recovered from the Barrens would enable The People to increase their domain and secure more territory without fighting any of the existing realms.”

  “Could they do that?” asked Tyler.

  “The People are on the right track. I am forbidden to assist them in that endeavor, but my estimate is that within 100 years, the power to substantially reduce the corrupting energies in a determinate area would be in their hands. I estimate two to three cubic miles at a time as the effort would require tremendous amounts of power.”

  The Elder sanctuary contains the knowledge to reduce or remove the corruption? How else could it give such an estimate, much less gauge the technological development of the people here about the subject?

  “What if I gain the ability to remove the corruption in the Barrens? Wouldn’t that give The People the room they need?” asked Tyler.

  “I know where you’re headed with that argument, Elder. Indeed, the information is within the tablets. But the skill to access such a level is another question, much less the development of the facility to use such knowledge. You do know that obtaining the information does not immediately result in the ability, maturity, or understanding to manifest — much less, manage — it? The Barrens is a vast territory. Even at the Adept level, a rank far along your learning path, you would be here for 100 years, your task still unfinished as you contend with the mutations of the land,” explained the entity.

  That argument of mine just got shot to pieces, thought the mage.

  “But a new complication would arise once one is past the edges of the wasteland. Here, the corruption is weak and is but a legacy of the dark realm which once held this land. The deeper you get into the Barren Lands, strange energies will be encountered – vestiges from the Void Lands. I doubt if Elder knowledge is encompassing enough to cover all possible dimensions of this universe,” the boy continued with his explanation.

  Damn. Forgot about the Void Lands.

  “Wait, even if they finally learn how to remove the corruption, it would just flow back.” It was a statement from the mage, not a question.

  “Knowledge to reduce the corruption also necessarily includes the skill to prevent it from spreading,” replied the boy. “Nor do they intend to cleanse the entire Barrens. They know their limits.”

  “And they’re the only people on Adar engaged in such a worthwhile endeavor. You’re not making this easier on me,” said Tyler heavily.

  The boy didn’t answer. The seconds became long minutes. Tyler had returned his gaze upon the simulacrum outside the house. He didn’t disturb his guides. The mage knew the burden of choice had to be borne by him alone. Options tried to rise in the tumultuous sea of thoughts buffeting him, only to be dashed to pieces by winds of practical considerations. In the end, the mage accepted that what was laid down before him were the only choices available – black or white? Yes or no? Damnation or salvation? Knowledge or genocide?

  For Tyler, it was genocide, no matter what mitigating considerations or excuses could be dredged from the rational pits of his mind. No matter how he viewed the dilemma facing him, one thing was clear – he would not commit nor be a party to a genocidal act. He glanced at the boy who was looking at him, now waiting for his decision. With a start, the mage realized he had been staring outside for a long time.

  He smiled wearily at the youngster.

  “I guess you knew what my decision would be?” the mage asked.

  The boy smiled back. “From what I have heard of you, there was a very high probability of such a choice.”

  “You know, I believe I should name you G. The first letter of the name of a fictional mage in a First World story. Like him, you appear to function as a guardian of an entire people. And I know about those very long alphanumeric designations your creators for you. For such an intelligent lot, they appear to be myopic at times.”

  “I would like that, Elder. And thank you. But my programming requires you to tell me exactly what you wish. Your arrival had already activated a number of protocols, and it would be best for everybody if they were reset,” said G.

  “What would happen if they were not reset?”

  “Twenty-four hours counted from the time you passed through the cave shield, an autonomous program would activate and assume you have difficulty in accessing the site. It would then proceed to treat everything within a twenty-mile radius as threats and eliminate them. We are about a mile from the actual temple,” stated the boy.

  “Shit. Hal! X! You never told me about that contingency in your protocols!” exclaimed Tyler. It did appear as if he was talking to himself.

  “The issue never arose, sire. Nor did you ask about it,” answered X.

  “How could I ask about it if I didn’t know it existed!” continued Tyler.

  G laughed, stopping Tyler’s tirade.

  “Don’t be too hard on my brethren, Elder. I would have done the same if I were in their position. We are highly advanced, or rather, evolved, technology, but we are still limited by the protocols our makers set in our core systems. Honestly, your guides have done an admirable job, considering the state of their sanctuaries.”

  “Sorry, guys. But I always react that way when some unknown and dangerous protocol rears its unexpected head. And your rules sometimes involve not only danger to myself, but also to innocents around me. Considerin
g the power behind such coding, I believe my reaction could be excused.”

  “And you’re only human, sire,” said Hal. G apparently heard Hal as the boy suddenly grinned.

  “Now what do I do?” asked the mage hurriedly, trying to change the subject.

  “Just tell me what you want. Your decision.”

  Tyler paused.

  “G, I defer my decision on the taking of the knowledge left for me. Until the time arrives that I return for it, no other human or any entity, whether of this world or of the First World, shall have access to the Elder lore in your care. In the meantime, continue as you have done, pursuant to the parameters of your protocols, with the added instruction that the barriers be strengthened. There always exists the possibility that a deity or similar being would eventually obtain the ability and power to get past your defenses.”

  The boy looked at Tyler and beamed.

  “That was a wise decision, Elder. I could sense the autonomous system powering down. It shall be as you command. Your guides have been furnished with a copy of the parameters my creator set for me. I believe it will sufficiently explain my actions. That particular creator was a wise and kind being. For an Elder, he had a soft heart for humanity. He knew the worst and the best of mortals yet was strangely optimistic that humans who follow after them will eventually find their place among the ethereal stars. Like them.”

  Did G just tell me where the Elders went? And was G's creator too optimistic?

  ***

  The pivotal decision made, Tyler quickly tried to think of what next to ask the intelligence. It might be of the same basic mold as Hal and X, but the individual character traits of the different makers made it possible for the sanctuaries to have varying levels of knowledge about their progenitors – their motivations, plans, and even dislikes. But G beat him to the topic.

  “An admirable decision, Elder. Though our creators might have chosen contrarily. It does show you retain traits making you human, despite the physical modifications and your personal experiences,” said G.

  “How so?” asked Tyler, lying back on the chair, content to let the conversation flow. Whatever happened now, information was one thing he wanted to get. A discussion like this was immeasurably easier than juggling his brain, trying to think of a specific question to ask.

  “Some Elders think nothing about purging an entire race or civilization. Others might weigh the costs and benefits of such a decision, but still do not value life as ordinary mortals do. For almost all of them, the result desired always justifies the means. It is, however, a trait born not out of arrogance, but of a greatly different way of looking at events and complications,” explained G.

  “Meaning they're not human anymore,” said the mage.

  “Not in the sense you understand the term. They are human, though greatly evolved, or transcended, as they prefer to call it. The remaining Elders have become so accustomed to thinking on a macro level that the plight and suffering of those individually affected by their decisions were beyond their comprehension.”

  “So why all these preparations for an Elder mage? They could have managed it on their own,” asked Tyler. The question had been at the back of his mind since the beginning. He had heard from his guides that the Elders needed a guardian for Adar, one who would ensure magic would still exist. But it was too convenient a reason for his taste. From what he had seen, the Elder race was not prone to such a simplistic way of thinking or doing things. Even the reason given by his guides demanded an answer to the question of why the continued existence of magic was so important to them.

  G laughed.

  “It was important enough for them to step in during the last Divine War and put the deities in their place. Though it makes you wonder why angry Elders didn’t do away with the pantheons when they arrived. They certainly had the power.”

  “I agree. Now you mention it, it seems the pantheons do have a place in their plans,” answered Tyler thoughtfully. G was full of insights, the mage observed.

  “From what I could infer from my creator, it seems they couldn’t be bothered with overseeing a world. But all agreed on the need for a guardian though it appeared each had a different reason for the decision,” G explained further.

  “That many reasons?” asked the surprised Tyler.

  “They might be transcended, but not enough to be able to do away with mortal shortcomings entirely. For my creator, the secondary reason was the need for a guardian to make sure the human species did not die out. He had a deep understanding of humanity's capacity for self-destruction,” answered the boy.

  “With their power and knowledge, they could have advanced humanity on this world by leaps and bounds, as the saying goes,” commented Tyler.

  “I do have the answer to that puzzling observation. The Elders never trusted forced evolution or technological growth. The Lost Ones of their kind were the beings who adopted that route. The ensuing war, its terrifying complications, and the near extinction of their race were seared into their racial memory. But I guess some of those difficulties would now be your problem.”

  “Difficulties? An understatement, G. I don't know if my guides told you, but the Lost Ones still exist, so that's also a problem outside of what you mentioned,” said the mage. “Add to that the rumors about powerful dark ones which might have been able to cross over to this world.”

  “I was briefed about what happened. An erroneous oversight on the part of the Elders. One bound to rear its ugly head again,” observed G. “As to what you call dark ones, such primeval entities are powerful but usually not that intelligent.”

  “Oversight, my foot! They had a party and left me to do the clean-up job, with half a broom. I don't even have access to Elder energy!” complained Tyler in an exasperated tone. “And I would like to point out that usual is not the same as always. With my luck, I’ll probably run into the brainy ones among the bastards.”

  “The secret of converting magical energy to an Elder one is indeed a process contained in the tablets. Though utilizing the conversion spell in the correct manner in order to generate Elder energy is also dependent on your level as an Elder mage and on understanding the appropriate concepts,” explained the being.

  “I know! I know! Creation! Only I uncorked the destruction genie first. Good thing I was able to put it back in its bottle. Though it’s now free and tends to manifest itself in my darkest moments. I still haven’t learned to control it,” confessed the mage. “With only ordinary magic at my disposal, you can imagine how many times that black temptation had shown itself to me.”

  “The knowledge is already in your subconscious and destruction is far easier to do than creation. But I am not surprised at its ability to manifest. At their core, the elemental powers of creation and destruction are sentient in a sense. They’re like children, and it would take the power and knowledge of a Prime to hold them in check,” answered G. “You have to tread carefully when it comes to dealing with such powers. Even the power of creation could destroy when abused or used improperly.”

  “Fat chance of that control happening. As I said, I only have access to normal magical energy,” repeated Tyler in a tone of resignation.

  “Journeyman Elder Mages usually have the ability to create minute amounts of Elder energy. But I think your unusual route of learning overlooked that small but essential part of your education.”

  “You tell me. I am the one left in the lurch, facing problems the Elders thought didn’t exist anymore – Lost Ones, primeval dark gods, and God know what else. And guess what? Normal energy spells don’t work against those crazy Lost Ones!”

  “I heard from my maker that your bones have something to do with the Elder energy creation process,” offered G. “But as I said, heard. It was not taught to me.”

  “I doubt it. I did learn that my bones helped me control the flow of vast amounts of magical energy. I believe it was during the battle against Aztecah forces near the temple of the deity called Viracocha,” replied the mage.


  “Not the bones themselves, but the marrow in them. My maker mentioned it in passing, but without the knowledge of the process, I guess you'll just have to experiment, if you're interested.”

  “Did your maker say anything else about it?” asked Tyler, now carefully attentive.

  “Just that the process is automatic. Once the knowledge is learned, the Elder mage does not even need to cast a spell to get the energy needed. But if it's a hit-and-miss affair, it’s bound to be a conscious effort on your part,” warned the entity. “Bear in mind that your bone marrow contains stem cells, immature cells converted by your body to what it needs. I guess that's what the conversion process is taking advantage of – the natural processes of your body.”

  “It's a possibility!” answered Tyler excitedly. “Elder energy is far more powerful than the energy any deity on Adar can hope to wield! It’s the edge I need against the garbage the Elders left behind!”

  “If your experiment works. The results, if any, might not be maximized in terms of yield. Or you could fail spectacularly and tear yourself apart.”

  “Now you talk like Hal. Can't you be encouraging?”

  “I can only show you the options, Elder. My programming does not allow flattery. Reality is what it is. And if it's an experiment, remember it's a blind attempt at something involving your bones, and it's bound to hurt,” warned the boy.

  “How bad?” came Tyler’s hesitant query.

  “Excruciatingly.”

  “Duck shit.” The involuntary remark came out from the mage as he slumped in his chair.

  Another round of uncomfortable silence prevailed. Tyler’s memory was particularly focused on how bad the pain was when massive amounts of magical energy coursed through his bones.