The Accidental Archmage: Book Nine: The Dragon Houses

by Edmund A. M. Batara

  Tyler glanced at the ranger. A hand signal to the Valkyrie, and he quickly joined them. Astrid, Thyma, and Kobu watched their flanks and rear. After explaining the situation, Habrok moved away from the group and headed to their right side. The mage appreciated the precaution. If the ranger was spotted, the attention would be far from the company. It even allowed them a chance to hit the vulnerable side of any attacking group.

  The scout came back after a while. It wasn’t long, which meant they were up for a fight of their own or they had nothing to worry about. Habrok’s grin reassured him.

  “A battle. Unlike any I have witnessed. Three separate forces, all heading to our previous location and running to each other. It might be safe to assume that, after all. That son of a castrated draugr must have told every blasted group in the area,” whispered the ranger. “The terrain down there is flat and would make for faster movement. I guess they all had the same idea.”

  “Sense anything around us?” asked the Archmage, referring to the location on the heights.

  “A few strange creatures. Harmless, I suppose. Avoided me and fled.”

  The mage looked at Se-Osiris carefully. Then he asked if jumping through the ether would be noticed. A nod was his answer, together with the explanation that boosting the magic needed for the spell was like lighting an enormous fire that reached up to the sky, accompanied by a considerable blast roiling the ambient magical field. Tyler nodded. That would surely get everyone’s attention. He didn’t discard the possibility that any attempt at leaving would warrant immediate counterspells to hold them in place. The kind of magic they had seen would be impossible to deflect.

  “Can you prevent them from holding us here?” Tyler asked his double.

  “Of course. But we have to wade in there and kill everybody first. I am Destruction. The spell you need is part of Creation,” came the answer. “Oh, if you’re trying to conceal the group, don’t try scrying. A directed spell differs from one that could be attributed to the ambient magic in the area.”

  Three warring groups. Three sources of holding spells. That doesn’t sound good, he concluded. The mage gestured to Habrok, gave a curt instruction, and moved with the ranger to the man’s observation point. Feeling a presence behind him, he found Se-Osiris had followed. The spirit grinned.

  “I am more attuned to hiding, and dead. Cassius wanted to come, but I told him his aura, added to yours, might be too much.”

  Tyler nodded and continued shadowing the ranger. Finally, the trio reached a ridge thickly covered with trees. The ranger crawled to one side and pressed himself flat on the ground. He glanced back and told the pair not to part the vegetation; they could see fine through the bushes. The two mages minded the instruction, even Se-Osiris. Glancing at the spirit mage, the young Archmage held back a grin. A prone, crawling, ghostly form would have been a funny sight, if the situation wasn’t so dangerous.

  What met his sight was a three-sided battle. The numbers involved were numerous enough, more than a couple of thousands for each force. One group was insectoid, mantis-like in appearance, though with metal armor and weapons. Another had the familiar lizard form. Massive hulks and with horns of various kinds and designs. They also had some protective gear, but it was primarily helmets and chestplates. Unlike the two other groups, few had shields, clearly relying on their bulk and, as Tyler suspected, speed. The third was a race of tall humanoids. This collection was more conventional in their combat array—armored ones in front with linked shields and robed individuals at the rear. Mages, he assumed.

  All three groups were attacking each other. It was close combat fighting heavily spiced with magical spells. Tyler believed the usual arcane barriers were in place. Yet, it looked as if the combatants could open distinct sections of their own and their opponents’ shields. The large reptiles were so far being held in place by the long spears and halberds of their enemies, but the frontal ranks of their enemies were being battered with giant weapons, magical protection or not. The mage couldn’t determine whether any of the weaponry involved was enchanted. The magical energy furiously swirling in the muddled melee discouraged any scrutiny.

  Then he saw each group had its own magical specialty. The insectoids were particularly impressive. Their forte seemed to be the generation of small portals that enabled them to appear at the rear or flanks of their enemies. The gateways were small, enough for one warrior, leading the mage to assume that it was a racial attribute. Seeing that they were considerably smaller than the other two races, it more than offset the difference in size.

  Tyler tried to make sense of the magical spells being used, but the muddled energy matrix made it impossible. But the strength of whatever was being used was formidable. It was more potent than the enchantments he had felt back against their now-ash enemies. Even with the power of his double, the mage was sure he wouldn’t want to be caught down there. The battling hordes might drop their fighting and focus on him. To them, he must leak magic like a second-hand sieve.

  “Those that attacked us before and that one group down there appear to be related to the ones we encountered in the Void Lands. I wonder if they came from this land?” he asked the ranger.

  “I have also thought of the same, Sire,” whispered Habrok. “There are physical differences, but I wouldn’t be surprised if they’re indeed related. Same race, different branches.”

  “You’ve been to the Void Lands? Deep inside that cursed place?” voiced the amazed Se-Osiris.

  “Cursed, indeed. Doubly cursed. My respect for the warriors of the Zhong and of the Empire now knows no bounds,” replied the ranger immediately. “A desolate, depressing, and unforgiving land.”

  “It appears we have no option but to wait until that murderous brawl is resolved and the winner leaves this place,” pondered Tyler. “I know. We’re wasting time. But there’s no chance we’d be able to handle all of them at the same time.”

  “Really?” came a familiar smug voice from deep in his mind.

  Chapter Five

  A Mirror to One's Soul

  “Don’t be stupid. There are three groups down there. There’s simply no way to prevent one of their mages from sending out a message about their intended targets turning on them or strangers suddenly attacking them. We’re the aliens here. Let them waste time looking for us in our reported location,” snapped Tyler. Either he was wiser now, or his previous self was that dense.

  “Right…,” replied the other one. “I could just let myself go, tear everything to pieces. I doubt if this Isle would be the same afterward. Could be the Atoll of Banna instead.”

  “Of all the imbecilic ideas!” retorted the aggravated mage. “You’d kill all of us. Awaken the anger of the Avatar. And I seriously doubt you could come back. I mean, in a sentient form.”

  “I know. Can’t you take a joke, my esteemed brother? But I could take the Avatar in my primordial form.”

  “That’s not a subject for jokes,” remonstrated Tyler, clearly irked.

  “Geesh. What a freaking SB,” the double snapped. “No wonder you couldn’t find the solution to this problem. It’s right underneath you.”

  “What’s an SB?” asked a puzzled Tyler.

  “A freaking sea creature who lives in a pineapple house. Capisce?”

  “Well, fuck you too, and explain your fucking plan.”

  Despite the attitude issue, Tyler had to admit that his double had exhibited an admirable ability for thinking out of the box, even if the result was marked with extraordinary violence and savagery. It wasn’t cruelty, more of efficient brutality. That seemingly casual yet practical destructiveness could be because of its nature and the unconventional mindset arising out of a more in-depth exposure to Elder lore and the way of thinking it encouraged. The mage knew only a review of the lore would grant him the mental flexibility, not to mention additional spells, approaching that of his twin. He had to find time to comprehend what he had absorbed.

  The double suggested using Elder energy in conjunction wit
h the gift of Hephaestus. The land itself was volcanically active. Lava fissures in the open area and its surroundings – except where they were – would send the combatants packing. It doubted if they could detect Elder power. Tyler examined the heights in the distance. His twin was right. A pair of volcanoes complete with plumes of steam were visible. He remembered the landscape greeting them upon arrival – gas and lava geysers amidst ground scarred by magma.

  “Let’s go back. I have an idea,” he told the accompanying pair after committing to memory the layout of the battlefield and the adjacent expanse. The mage noticed Se-Osiris was again staring at him. The furrowed brow meant the emissary of Thaut was bothered. He asked if anything was wrong, but the latter merely said they’ll discuss it later. Tyler doubted if the legendary magus detected the growth of Elder energy within him. But being intimately familiar with light and darkness, the young mage knew Se-Osiris felt his twin. To what degree, he’d learn soon enough.

  ***

  When he returned, Tyler quickly explained what he intended to do and instructed everyone to stay near him. Nobody was to sneak a peek at the battlefield. The mage didn’t want to risk being noticed or an errant molten stone striking down one of them. Unfortunately, he was also cautious enough to forego the creation of a shield to cover the company. The expenditure of magical energy was a risk. They were lucky enough to arrive undetected and, apparently, at the start of the battle when the attention of the contending armies was focused on each other. Now, the mages of the battling troops would be on alert for magical surprises. The porting abilities of the insectoids would have seen to that regrettable attribute.

  Relying on his memory, he carefully drew a small amount of Elder energy from his reserves and held it ready. Then he imagined how the spell would affect the area—tremors, cracks in the ground, and finally, lava and gas geysers. As the spell was cast, the mage recognized the telltale signs of its effects. The earth shook, but it was too close for comfort. Tyler moved the area of effect away from them and increased the intensity. The bedlam of alarm and panic reached their ears. He didn’t dare look at what was happening. An additional infusion of power, and he could sense cracks suddenly opening in the field below them. The huddled Archmage followed it with the flames of Hephaestus. From the increased volume of the undecipherable shouts, chittering, and growls, the mage could say he was successful. The deafening din even overcame the noise of fracturing earth and erupting magma.

  “Nice one, brother. But may I ask what’s your plan if some flee in this direction?” asked his double.

  “Doubt it. We’re on a bluff and the cliffside is too steep. Thanks for asking,” he replied with a sense of satisfaction.

  The mage had considered the possibility, but was confident that panicked individuals would pursue the easier way out of the danger zone. It was easier and faster to run on flat ground. Still, he added more strength to the spell. The sooner it was over, the better for the company. Already, he could feel the heat in the air, and ash particles fluttered down. Suddenly, a strong breeze rose and blew toward the area of destruction. The unexpected gust was powerful enough to pelt them with dust and gravel, forcing everyone to cover exposed skin with cloaks or whatever was available. It continued for a few seconds, wound down, and vanished.

  “Some wind to make sure any poisonous gases don’t reach this place. A controlled mini-tempest,” explained the twin. “Don’t worry. It’s not the usual energy source. It won’t be detected.”

  “I don’t smell sulfur,” answered the Archmage, though he expected another lecture. He had already stopped the spell. Any needed disruption, with attendant death and damage, would already have occurred. However, the mage was prudent enough to let the quakes and eruption disappear gradually.

  “Read more, my ignorant Master. In your instance, casting spells without understanding their effects on the natural environment isn’t healthy. You might have released highly viscous lava, given the type of terrain they have around here. That kind usually contains poisonous gases. Odorless, mostly. Me? It doesn’t matter. I could level mountains, upend the ground, loose savage tornadoes, and really wouldn’t care as long as destruction ensued.”

  “Uh, thanks? I guess?”

  Then the smell of burned flesh reached them, awareness of its origin nauseating everyone.

  ***

  They waited for several minutes even if a visual examination of the battlefield revealed a landscape cruelly riven by fractures and adorned with intermittent wisps flowing from quiescent holes in the ground. Clouds of steam obscured the terrain, though they could see burned and fallen figures where visibility became possible. Tyler was still hesitant to release a scrying spell, worried about stragglers discovering their presence.

  Se-Osiris offered to inspect the area. He was, as he insisted, difficult, if not impossible, to detect in his spirit form. The Kemetian mage added that he doubted if the natives had the same perspective of the afterlife. Tyler agreed to the proposal. He didn’t have any options except using a spell, nor was he amenable to letting the ranger do the scouting. There were too many unknown variables at play, and human abilities might not be equal to the reality they were facing. The deities who described Banna as dangerous weren’t exaggerating.

  The report that the field was clear of hostiles relieved Tyler. They were free to continue their journey. As they gathered once again around Se-Osiris, the Archmage gave his handiwork a last glance and wondered what made it different from the actions of his twin. He must have eliminated at least a couple of thousands from the battling armies.

  Killing is a necessary part of war, he mused gloomily. But both of us had cast spells resulting in sweeping death. Am I no different from him? How about my previous actions, which also resulted in massive casualties?

  The dismal thoughts profoundly disturbed the young man. The presence and deeds of his dark twin had forced him to confront the morality of his actions. Tyler had long accepted that life on Adar and the struggle for survival against forces he could only describe as evil had forced his hand. But did the situation warrant the means employed? The mage wasn’t naïve enough to believe in the absolutes of good and evil, that there are only two sides to a moral dilemma. What may be right for one mortal could be wrong in the perception of another.

  That shithead, inwardly cursed Tyler as he realized that watching a version of himself readily commit large-scale killing courtesy of powerful magical spells had unsettled whatever moral anchor he had found on Adar. The mage had also done the same deeds. He suddenly felt depressed and wished for the comforting presence of Eira. His wife always had a calming effect on him, and he sorely needed her sense of the practical.

  I can’t even confide with my guides, he continued thinking, even as Se-Osiris’s power surged and blanketed his surroundings with a brilliant white light, momentarily blinding him. And I should have remembered to close my fucking eyes.

  As he closed his eyes, the perturbed mage didn’t notice Thyma’s worried glance.

  ***

  The company reached the area where they started their journey without further incident. It wasn’t the same spot, but the Kemetian ghost and Thyma assured them it would suffice. The seer could discern the necessary ethereal link. For a moment, Tyler wondered about the difference in ability considering Se-Osiris was the one using the spell. The mage could understand the inability to track the connection as they were on Banna, even if the spirit magus clearly didn’t have that difficulty when they left the mainland. The Forbidden Isle was indeed a strange place. It twisted and upended the usual magical conventions. He surmised Thyma’s lineage might have spelled the discrepancy. Nothing like having a Titan as your mother.

  The welcome smell of the fresh sea breeze and the wind whipping through his hair invigorated the young mage. It was a tiring and trying trek, and he was bringing with him the sentient form of what should have been one of his fundamental skills. The mages of the party didn’t sense any danger around them, nor did the Archmage. Everyone needed
a break, even for a few minutes. A necessity, he mused, since there was no telling what awaited them upon their arrival. They had left a battlefield, and Tyler assumed they would return to Sigtuna Plain. Things might have changed. The worrisome state of affairs on the mainland was fluid, not to mention volatile, and the unexpected was the rule.

  He inhaled deeply, enjoying the moment. All concerns were cast aside for the nonce, and thankfully, even his double was quiet. Even after all the help given by his dark twin, he didn’t trust the entity. The other Tyler was undoubtedly carefully observing everything, noting what he could use later on. The mage turned his attention to what name he would suggest. Nothing outlandish. He doubted such offerings would be accepted. Something simple. Tom would do.

  Dark Tom, more likely, he shrugged.

  He felt the exile walk to his side. Tyler sighed as he cleared his thoughts and prepared himself. The inevitable query was coming. Kobu would have perceived the change in the Archmage’s nature. Up to now, he hadn’t determined what the exile was. His loyalty was beyond question, and the mage was sure that the warrior had been once a man. But the abilities displayed by the outcast were beyond what even a powerful battlemage could do, and Tyler doubted if he had seen everything that Kobu had to offer.

  An abrupt shout called their attention, halting Kobu’s approach. It came from Thyma.

  “Someone’s approaching!”

  Whatever or whoever was advancing had magical abilities, that much the mage could sense. Yet, it felt like it was intentionally suppressed, as if the entity was avoiding notice. He cast a scrying spell with a limited range. It was a woman walking on air. Her features were hazy, but Tyler could see the long blue dress, narrow at the hips, with an ornamented leather baldric carrying a sheathed sword on her left. A plaid woolen cloak pinned on the right shoulder by a metal broach completed the attire. Based on what the mage could observe, she looked human. Clearly a deity of some sort, but with familiar racial features. He wondered what the being was doing on Banna, much less a human deity.