The Accidental Archmage: Book Nine: The Dragon Houses

by Edmund A. M. Batara

  “You mean I only have to remove the heads of my enemies?”

  “Yes. But the path to each of them is challenging. Remember that you fight the small battles to survive, larger ones to gain an edge, and the war to win,” continued Cassius. “Yet wars serve purposes. Agendas. Even the dead have plans. Just look at Se-Osiris.”

  “He might be a mage serving at a deity’s bidding, but I believe his heart is in the right place,” replied Tyler.

  “Good intentions and altruism are purposes. The search for power is a means toward such ends. You think anything is possible without power in its myriad forms? A piece of bread held in one’s hand is power over a hungry beggar. Your friends, deities and mortals alike, have their own goals. Until your aims and means to achieve them fall afoul of their personal objectives, they will remain at your side. But they won’t be waiting for you to fulfill their dreams. Friends and enemies have their own schemes in motion. I admit it’s a chaotic mess. But your problem is infinitely greater. This world’s Archmage has to worry about a vast canvass driven by greed at its core.”

  “Altruism is driven by greed?”

  “Words don’t enable altruistic results. Actions do. For such activities to bear fruit, involvement in the quest for power is necessary. As in my example. To give away bread, one has to pay the baker’s price. Or the farmer’s or any of those involved in the process, if you prefer making them yourself. But you need wealth, through profit, to do so, hence your participation in the town’s economy. Profit is a by-product of greed. A lesser form, one may argue, but the basic drive to gain is there.”

  “Man, that’s deep. But I don’t think I could dig it.” His reply was accompanied by a grin. Levity was his only answer to the brutal worldview of Cassius. It was stated so casually that he could only conclude that the belief was part of the man’s ethos. The Romanii had some valid points, but Tyler couldn’t reconcile himself to thinking that greed was the driving force behind the motivations of his friends. Yet the young man couldn’t come up with his own answer. He wanted to ask what would sacrifice mean in the context of Cassius’s statements. Still, He decided to refrain from continuing the line of discussion. At least, the man appeared to be not his problem. For now.

  ***

  After Cassius left, the mage sat on the grass as he watched the night sky. It was clear and full of stars. He sighed heavily. The mainland was now a maelstrom of conflict. Everywhere he looked, war threatened to erupt from the dark recesses of prophecies, twisted minds, and even altruistic actions.

  Life was never a straight line. Otherwise, it would be unreal—a fantasy, the thought came to his mind.

  He forced himself to relax, focusing on the heavens. The twinkling of the flecks of light slowly emptied his troubled mind of weighty concerns.

  Suddenly, he found himself humming a tune, a familiar and classic song, one of his favorites back on Earth. Tyler was already in the chorus when he stopped, the lines of song abruptly registering in his consciousness. Only, the opening stuck in his mind and the words didn’t augur well –

  “I see the bad moon rising, I see trouble on the way.”

  ***

  It has been two days since the company left the area around Sigtuna. As of the present, his companions were preparing to call it a night. The Archmage’s watchers, Se-Osiris and Cassius, had left together with the small army led by the Gothi and Eleos. The Keltoi goddess departed with the Kemetian mage. No ceremony attended the separation. The remnants of the group woke up to their quiet surroundings, now noticeably bare of their guests. If anybody saw them leave, it was Habrok, but the Archmage saw no point in asking for details.

  The air still appeared to be tainted with the strange malaise. The colors of the world remained the same, but Tyler felt something was already missing. It was as if some of its vitality was gone. The inexplicable occurrence gnawed at him. His uneasiness had disappeared, replaced by a vague yet strong sense of dread. He tried to use his magical sight to explore the unwelcome phenomenon, to no avail. The debilitating aura defeated his effort – an immobile obstacle that refused any further examination blunted his scrutiny. All he could glean was the magical energy of the world was also diminishing. It was barely perceptible, but it was happening.

  The discovery shocked him. Thoughts went to the world’s avatar, but her absence made the mage more apprehensive. The continuing drain was disastrous, and he didn’t believe that she would give no warning, unless momentous events were in play. Nevertheless, his connection to this world’s distinct magical pulse still existed, and it didn’t appear that something was wrong. It still danced and flickered its way through his mind and body.

  He glanced at his companions. Thyma sat looking at the distant sky, her introspective mood visibly apparent. Tyler judged the seeress felt the mysterious change and was disturbed by it. He deliberated telling the group, then refrained—no sense in unduly alarming everyone. The change didn’t pose any immediate threat, and he had no explanation.

  What presently bothered him was the lack of a message from Eira. He had released energy toward Maljen Forest the moment they cleared the environs of Sigtuna. It would have been enough to tell his wife of his presence, and Tyler expected a prompt reply. Instead, all he received was a warm feeling of relief and affection. He intimately knew Eira’s aura, so there wasn’t a question that it was her. But the lack of direct communication deeply bothered him. Unlike the mage, the forest spirit could send him her thoughts. The necklace she wore should have ensured that possibility. Now it wasn’t happening.

  Surprisingly, though he couldn’t sense what was wrong with the diminishing energy around him and Eira’s inability to send him a message, Tyler could pick up unusual emanations around them. Some reminded him of the Old One they encountered in Sigtuna. Others were unfamiliar, and they gave off different indications of strength. Most were perversions of the familiar magic around him. A few displayed more complex aurae. Thankfully, none were of Elder origin, and all were far away, centered on mountains and isolated spots.

  Again, too many unknowns. Curveballs galore in the making, sighed Tyler, knowing some would become his headaches in the future.

  Still, he was confident the newcomers’ emergence had something to do with the barely noticeable reduction of the Adar’s magic. Not for the last time, he acutely felt the absence of his guides. If they couldn’t tell him what was wrong, their knowledge would have been sufficient to provide needed clues.

  His thoughts went to the third AI. H wasn’t as intelligent as his brethren due to damage suffered during its awakening. Sent to scout Adar, H hasn’t returned. Tyler mused wryly that the explorer’s information would be most welcome now. Something was happening outside of the conflicts he knew. Unfortunately, he lacked the seed of an idea upon which to build a hypothesis.

  After casting a final scrying spell to check for threats, he reluctantly crawled back to his makeshift shelter to sleep. Unfortunately, part of his mind didn’t want to rest. It insisted on studying the reason for the dreadful turmoil in his gut. Tyler wanted to give in and consider what was happening. Still, the mage also knew he hasn’t fully recovered, and there was no basis for such deliberation. What was available were merely signs and manifestations of the malaise. There was no hint of what was causing it.

  First things first, he thought decisively. Some weariness persisted, but Tyler believed he was strong enough to look for his youngest ward. For Rawa, the mage had accepted that only Vivindel’s return could resolve the dragon’s situation. Then, after the draconic form had stabilized, the Archmage and Birki could begin to guide and teach the youngling.

  He closed his eyes and shifted his consciousness to the staff beside him. A turbulent wind greeted the mage, and he suddenly slammed into a hard, unyielding surface. An amazed and slightly dazed Tyler looked upon a gigantic dark wall blocking the way.

  ***

  What the…

  The incredulous thought flashed through his mind as the Archmage took in the bizarre
sight. Immediately, he sensed a layer of Elder energy covering the barrier composed of normal magic. A swift scrying spell was promptly rebuffed, its energy dissipating instantly. The dismissal surprised Tyler. All the mage could sense beyond the blockade was the clash of opposing energies. Still, the magic of the world within the staff was his, and he couldn’t fathom anything or anybody taking it away. Nobody except…

  Tom! You traitorous, insufferable, ungrateful son of a bitch!

  Even as the conclusion emerged in his mind, icy fear rose and choked him. His double was up to no good, and Tyler didn’t know the entity’s endgame. Instead, he had a suspicion, and the impression increased the painful anxiety in him. But first, he had to break through the arcane barricade.

  Tyler put his right palm on the quiet, unmoving wall. He could sense the massive flow within the construct.

  No wonder I sensed nothing. It’s my power. The damned barrier isolated and dampened what’s inside, he realized with growing anger. The bastard used MY magic against me!

  An incredible fear and towering concern for his children erupted in the Archmage. Tom was trying to force his way inside the staff from the tumult and dissonance the mage could sense. His immense worry fed his outrage and fury. Somebody had the gall to threaten his children!

  The old Tyler would have immediately lashed out in mindless rage, but not this incarnation, coldly thought the mage as an intense calculating look appeared in his eyes. It’s MY power. MY energy. MY world.

  The mage quickly focused his will and turned his attention to the wall, searching for the strands of power keeping it together. They swiftly became visible in his mind’s eye, glowing and twisting along its length and width. He smiled coldly and called back all the tendrils of energy. Tyler could sense his twin’s mark of them–a familiar yet incomplete matrix. The construct’s connection to Tom quickly broke under the Archmage’s will. His mind recalled the stolen power, and the barrier abruptly disappeared.

  Some distance away stood Tom, facing the entrance. Blocking him was Birki, while at the rear of the guardian were the rest of his wards. Tyler sensed the depletion of their collective power. Even if they had an entire dimensional world at their disposal, they were defending against an embodiment of their creator. A weaker persona, but still more formidable than them.

  At the sight, rage promptly engulfed the Archmage, and Tyler instinctively sent a tremendous burst of destruction toward Tom. The rage consumed him, leaving a world of red blood and black anger in his awareness. The copper tang became the mage and the violence his soul. Nothing was left except an Archmage, limitless fury, and a stunned figure.

  An incandescent golden sphere instantly formed around Tom, right at the end of the released pulse. It was Elder energy, yet of a form never seen on Adar. Magic firmly condensed, tightly bound by the contradiction inherent in the presence of boundless anger and unfathomable cold calculation. The air thrummed with power, and a mix of gold and silver radiance smoldered in Tyler’s eyes.

  The fingers of the mage’s right hand – dropped to his side when the barrier dissolved – closed. A shock wave erupted from the blazing orb. It exploded inwards, compressing an already incredibly massive force. The glowing sphere promptly shrank into a mote of light, leaving no sign of Tom behind. Then the speck disappeared, but not before it gave out a last burst of blinding light.

  The explosion’s echo reverberated in the mage’s awareness. It was a distant sound, and the mage realized that the sound rampaged through the emptiness of the dimension formed by the existence of Elder energy. As the vanishing vibrations coursed through him, Tyler found his rage disappearing in accord with its intensity.

  Tyler sighed heavily. Clarity had emerged. It was the first time he had lost himself in such anger. The spell didn’t even drain him. All he could recognize was some physical tiredness. Nothing a few minutes of rest could rectify.

  His gaze went to the gate. Stupefied looks met his eyes. The children were unharmed, though Tyler could sense they were at the limits of their magic. He wearily waved his hand in greeting.

  A surge of power grabbed his attention. He could sense its source, and astonishingly, it came from inside him. A figure rapidly blurred into existence. It was Tom.

  “That hurt,” said his double.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Stealing a Pantheon

  The mage’s stupefaction lasted a mere second. Forgotten anger crashed into him, washing away whatever calmness he had regained. This time, the veneer of cold calculation fell by the wayside. Pure fury engulfed his senses. Blood suddenly pounded in his veins.

  “Stop. You can’t kill me.” The certainty in his double’s voice halted the casting of another spell for a few seconds. Then Tyler’s killing intent again manifested, drawing heat from the area before the entrance, resulting in a freezing region.

  “Don’t waste your energy. You really can’t kill me. I am a part of you. A reflection of one of your aspects,” continued Tom, still in a conversational tone.

  “It doesn’t mean I can’t try,” said Tyler coldly. Magical power was continuing to gather around him, resulting in an incandescent glow.

  “Blockhead. Killing yourself would be a better option than trying to dispose of me,” snorted his double. “We can stay here until the end of time, and still, you won’t succeed. Our lives are tethered. Well, not exactly. I can’t die while you’re around.”

  The Archmage paused, and his murderous instinct abated. His twin had a point. He was part of Tyler, created from energy and knowledge existing within him. Tom would just dissolve, return to the mage’s pool of power, and then re-emerge. The destructive force that was his double was now an integral part of his mind, even if its present manifestation had somehow gained sentience. But the mage took note of the last part of Tom’s reply which indirectly revealed a double meaning. It meant a possibility that, with his newfound sentience, his twin could continue to exist without the Archmage. Tom couldn’t die with the Archmage around, but it didn’t mean that his twin would pass away if ever Tyler died.

  “You may be right,” replied the mage slowly through clenched teeth. “But it doesn’t mean I can’t shut you down.”

  “How?” laughed Tom casually, in a tone that wasn’t derisive or dismissive. The entity was clearly interested in what the mage was thinking. It was apparent that he didn’t think Tyler was capable of doing such a thing.

  “I’ll lock you down in one of the energy reserve dimensions. Similar to where my guides were sequestered. Unlike them, I’ll throw away the key to your prison,” said Tyler.

  He didn’t know how to do it. It was an ability that was exercised by his pair of helpers. They were the ones who created such pockets in the first place, and the mage never heard them saying that it was within his existing or future abilities. But he was confident Tom wasn’t sure if Hal or X gave him the skill. Not being a part of the original skillset of the tablets, details about it would be absent from what the twin had learned.

  Tom’s notable lack of comment regarding the draconic transformation ability supported his conclusion that his Judas twin didn’t have access to abilities obtained or was given outside the Elder legacy of knowledge. His double might have known about it but dismissed it as useless for his own purposes. It was a pretense, a desperate gamble, and Tyler wasn’t sure how it would play out. All he could do was maintain the façade of a calculating mien stoked by an ember of killing intent.

  “It seems we’re at an impasse,” voiced Tom calmly.

  “No. You think we’re at an impasse. We’re not, and I’m going to put you away forever,” answered Tyler, maintaining his frigid demeanor. However, he didn’t know what to do if Tom called his bluff. Nor did any solution come to mind. His twin’s thinking was something he couldn’t predict.

  “Wheaton’s Law,” blurted Tom.

  “Huh?”

  “You’ve got Adar on your brain. Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten one of the rules of online gaming–don’t be a dick,” said Tom.


  “You’re the one who’s being a dick, you son of a bitch. Stabbing me in the back! What the hell did you expect out of the staff?” shouted Tyler.

  “Cards on the table then. I do have to put you in a more agreeable mood. Don’t lose your temper, man. Bad for the heart.” The other gave him a smile.

  “What else did I expect out of these guys? My own pantheon, of course! A simple exertion of Elder power, and they’ll have new memories. They’re wasting their abilities in that bunker. To be honest, I didn’t expect such resistance. Impressive,” continued Tom. “But since that’s not an option anymore, I guess it’s Plan B.”

  Fuck this guy. Wily as they come. Am I capable of such scheming? wondered Tyler. He decided he could learn to be devious. Tom was just a reflection of himself. But only if he allowed himself to be messed up as Loki. No thanks.

  Yet, as his twin spoke, the Archmage couldn’t shake the feeling that despite the confident demeanor, Tom was indeed cornered. The double clearly believed Tyler could do precisely what he said. A flood of welcome relief filled him. He was out of options. But the crack about cards on the table intrigued him. His twin clearly had thought the plan through.

  “Plan B?” he asked.

  “Hey, Tyler, you have this irritating habit of repeating the words of others. Not to be impolite, but it sounds dumb.”

  Power immediately hummed in the air around the Archmage. Tom was definitely getting under his skin. Then Tyler calmed down. His double knew him–weak points and all. With his cunning, the twin was out to get what advantage he could. Rattling the mage was one way.

  “Cut the crap, Tom. What do you have to offer? No tricks and no more bullshit. I’ve got things to do and places to go,” said Tyler, keenly aware of the need to appear murderously firm.