Cronica Acadia

by C. J. Deering

  Dangalf and Ashlyn examined their scrolls. Theodore handed Doppelganger and Nerdraaage their own. “Feel free to keep these,” he said. “There are secrets locked away in all of our bloodrunes.”

  “Can you tell us about travel between these worlds?” asked Ashlyn. “I mean, we still, when we have a quiet moment, can’t believe we’re here.”

  “Legends say that in ancient times sapiens moved freely between this world and another. It was a world very similar to Acadia. Mayhap yours?”

  “Mayhap,” said Doppelganger.

  “At least they could have been similar in ancient times,” added Dangalf.

  “That all ended with the Schism,” said Theodore. “The near-war between the white and blue Schools. It is said that the other world destroyed their portal to our world.”

  “How did people move between the worlds?”

  “Quite easily, I understand. There was a portal at both worlds. It is unknown if some communication existed between worlds to devise these portals or if it was pure chance that they would be made complementary. One would step through as through a doorway.”

  “That’s not how it happened for us,” said Ashlyn.

  “No, I don’t suppose it was. The other portal was apparently destroyed. And you need a functioning portal at both worlds. But there are claims of other contact with this sister world. The more common and simplest is called bleed-through. It is the most ephemeral contact. Seers and other gifted sapiens say they touch the other world with their minds, but the contact is typically during slumber or trance states and is as fleeting as a dream. Ancient texts describe a more complicated process called a soul crossing or journey. It requires a great deal of magic, and parties on both worlds must cooperate to achieve it. In this case the soul alone crosses the barrier between worlds. I believe that is what you experienced.”

  “But these bodies,” said Dangalf. “These are not our bodies. They come from a…I don’t know how to describe it in terms you would recognize,” said Dangalf.

  “These bodies come from a game,” said Ashlyn.

  “It is only your soul that transferred to this world,” said Theodore. “The manifestation of the body was the expression of the soul. Some believe the bloodrune is the foundation of the being, that it is all about the blood. Others, and I include myself, believe the blood and by extension the bloodrune is the manifestation of the soul. As such the bloodrune is also called a soul pattern. Since you did not bring your blood to this world, only your soul, it is an argument in favor of saying your blood, by extension your bodies, are the manifestation of your souls. These bodies probably represent you better than the bodies that you discarded.”

  “Discarded?” said Ashlyn.

  “Discarded is inexact, and I apologize for my coarseness,” said Theodore. “I do not know what happened to your old bodies other than to pronounce that they are no longer occupied by your souls.”

  “What was that schism you mentioned?” asked Ashlyn.

  “The Great Schism. It erupted between Acadia and Europa, the legendary other world. It was a battle over the preeminence of the White or Blue School. Magic or machina.”

  “Machine,” Dangalf explained to his friends.

  “Our ancients believed magic to be the better school for our world while the other world chose machina, and each world and every sapien separated along those lines. The Blue School remains an important element of Acadia, but our craftsmen build to complement sapiens not replace them. And there are restrictions on the practice of the Blue School so as to prevent their excesses. And it is said that those that chose Europa, the world of machina, destroyed their own portal, so great was their fear and hatred of magic. Does this Europa, the world of machina, sound like the world you came from?”

  The Keepers nodded. “But there are some good things about the other world too,” Nerdraaage defended. “Our world.”

  “Spoken like a true member of the bluest race. I’m sure both worlds have their advantages,” agreed Theodore. “Different roads they took, but they are not dissimilar. You would not have been able to travel here if there was not still some magic left in your world.” And that last comment made the Keepers feel a little better. If they should make their way back to the world they started in, willingly or not, it was nice to know that it was a place not devoid of magic. And the drinking began in earnest.

  And though they sat at the same table, they were two different parties. Doppelganger, Ashlyn, and Nerdraaage drank and smoked and sang and joked. Theodore and Dangalf drank poisonberry tea and talked about hats. But occasionally the parties intersected. “You’re drinking something called poisonberry!” demanded Doppelganger of Dangalf.

  But Ashlyn answered, “Poisonberry is one of the most beneficial plants ever discovered. It was purposely misnamed by a human witch who hoped to keep the secret all to herself.”

  “Good show,” cheered Theodore. “However, it was an elven witch.”

  “There are no elven witches,” challenged Ashlyn.

  “My dearest Ashlyn,” said Theodore smiling. “Not a witch and yet bewitching. I should have ultimate knowledge and still have to surrender to you in argument.”

  “That’s the wisest thing you’ve said tonight, Theodore,” said Ashlyn with just a trace of flirtation. Dangalf tried to turn the conversation back to hats.

  Nerdraaage, not interested in conversation with another sap making goo-goo eyes at Ashlyn, took his looted ring from his pocket and tried to bounce it into his cup. It immediately caught the eye of Theodore, who was an inquisitor first and a flirt much further down that list. “What is that?” asked Theodore.

  “That’s my loot!” shouted Nerdraaage because he was drunk.

  “May I see it?”

  “You can see it from there!” Ashlyn took the ring from Nerdraaage and gave it to Theodore.

  “Clan Ghostbeard,” read Theodore. “Where did you get this?”

  “I took it off a lesser dwarf than myself after I killed him,” said Nerdraaage.

  “Killed another dwarf?”

  “That’s right!”

  “As an otherworlder mayhap you didn’t know that killing a fellow dwarf will get you estranged from the dwarven family.”

  “Wha?” said a suddenly sober Nerdraaage.

  “I know all of the dwarven clans including the one-dwarf clans. Even the legendary lost clans. There is no Ghostbeard. In fact, only the five founding clans may reference beards in their clan names. This clan is an obvious affront to the royal families. And these are goblin tool marks. This just gets more curious. What were the Keepers of the Broken Blade’s plans in the coming days?”

  “I think that we should go back to that slave camp and see if there are more children we can rescue,” said Ashlyn.

  Theodore waved dismissively. “There will always be more stolen children,” he said. “This is important. But I suppose only one of you needs go. Nerdraaage would be the obvious choice.”

  “We stay together,” insisted Doppelganger.

  “Very well, all of you then. And if it will ease your consciences, I will impress you. Let me see your commissions.” Dangalf handed his over first, and Theodore took out an extravagant plumed pen that wrote without being dipped in ink. This magical pen was only slightly less magical because of the blue stain it left on the pocket of Theodore’s Vinlandian finery.

  Theodore finished Dangalf’s scroll and began writing on the next. Dangalf excitedly read to the others what was writ on his: “By my authority as an officer in the Guild of Sages and Seers, you are ordered to report to Bran Keep expeditiously.”

  Bran Keep! The dwarven capital! The twenty-thousand-year-old mountain fortress overlooking enemy lands! They were eager to visit all of the great cities of Acadia, but now they were actually commanded to visit one! And they were going there not as tourists but as heroes, seekers, mercenaries, and adventurers!

  “Seek out Loremaster Fearghas,” said Theodore when done writing. “He is my dwarven counterpart. A stout bi
rd could fly the ring to Bran Keep, but he will have questions for you, so it’s best to bring it yourself. Something tells me this ring could be of utmost import. I suggest you ride at first light.”

  “But we have no mounts,” said Dangalf.

  “Then you should leave now.”

  LXXXIII

  Theodore’s carriage was magnificent. The horses were adorned with white plumes on their heads, and the carriage was festooned with banners of the White School and of the Guild of Sages and Seers. A brilliant Vinlandian shield was on the carriage doors.

  Inside it was appointed better than any space the Keepers had seen except for Doppelganger, who had visited Dymphna’s royal quarters. Each facet bore intricate details: a gold dragon head’s door handle, an aspect on the inside door depicting the Great Lighthouse such that the light spun around as you opened and closed the door, a gold rune inlaid in highly polished wood on the ceiling that depicted what they now recognized as the human bloodrune. The window shades bore the crest of the Guild of Sages and Seers.

  Theodore apologized to the Keepers for not being able to take them all the way to Bran Keep, but he was sailing for Oceania, and the ship would not wait. He expounded on his explanation as was typical of the White School. Human seafarers had rediscovered the long-lost land, but the trolls were quick to set up a competing settlement. It appeared this would be the next front in the war against the Legion and, if so, they needed to master the secrets of this mysterious land to be victorious. If the unthinkable happened and the Alliance was defeated in Acadia, then Oceania would be their last refuge.

  Dangalf mentioned how the map of Acadia that existed in their old world showed a parity between the Alliance and the Legion and how startled they were to arrive here and see a map depicting the neutral Nemetia and half of the elven lands under the control of the Legion.

  Theodore told them how close humans had come to annihilation when the Trollish Armada appeared just off the coast of Vinland. And the destruction of humans would have meant the eventual destruction of the other righteous races.

  LXXXIV

  The Trollish Armada sailed under the command of Kejavik the Eleventh, the troll prince and necromancer and a high priest in the Uroboros Cult and the Eleventh incarnation of Kejavik the Naught. And he was Kejavik the Devout, and as the officially recognized reincarnation of Kejavik the Naught, he was entitled to all of the titles of his previous lives: the Impaler, the Black Tongued, the Elf Eater, the Shaper, of the Leather Apron (a dandy who would signal his murderous rampages by donning a leather apron over his silk raiment), the Collector, the Unmentionable, and so on. And each incarnation of Kejavik was blacker than the previous. Kejavik the Devout was an especially powerful witch most learned of the Black School, the Legion bastardization of the White School. A prince was he by their own black bloodlines, who might have become king of the trolls if he was so inclined but instead shunned the royal path for priesthood in the Uroboros. And so it was that Kejavik’s display of black piety moved thousands of trolls to the Uroboros, and it did surpass all of the lesser death cults in numbers and influence and became a threat to the royal family itself for rule of the trolls and by extension the Legion.

  His Trollish Armada that day did carry six thousand orc marines, one for each man, woman, and child in Vinland. And the trolls are not seaworthy creatures, and the orcs were not disciplined or intelligent sailors, and Kejavik devised the method where the trolls would sleep encased in Sylvanian dirt, twelve sleeping for every one that commanded. And by this rotation did they sail to Vinland despite the great nautical distance, all the while hidden in great plumes of fog, and while keeping the orcs on course and prepared, and it is now this same method they use to sail to Oceania and bring troll wickedness to another world.

  And near Vinland the devious fog was lifted. And Kejavik and all the troll officers were awakened from their temporary graves, and they did take their place of command over the armed and ready orc marines.

  And know that with Vinland crushed, the Legion would sweep through human lands, and would flank the elves who would be trapped against their own impenetrable Crimson Wall. With human and elf conquered, the Legion would sweep through the dwarven lands, and though that land is dug deep with many redoubts, none more formidable than Bran Keep, none of these fortresses would withstand a siege of more than a few years.

  But humans, unprepared as they were against such a force, still did sound the city’s alarm. And the mage Ozymandias, who already before this was a recluse, left his tower and went down to the shore, where were gathered a paltry number of defenders and many more common people. And it had been many years since any common man was allowed to behold Ozymandias. And so one half of the people did beg Ozymandias to save the city while the other half despaired that the force of enemies was too great for any one man to matter and sent up a great cry of woe. And only Ozymandias’s personal guards kept the masses from pulling on his robes and falling at his feet, and still did the old mage just stand at the shore and watch the encroachment.

  And with no fleet to challenge them, the human ships almost all off to Oceania, Kejavik sailed his armada into the great bay. And then when each ship was in the bay did Ozymandias touch his staff upon the water, causing it to freeze. And no wizard had ever frozen such a great body of water before and certainly not of seawater, which freezes so much colder than fresh. And it is said by those who were witness that Ozymandias, already ancient, aged one hundred years in that moment. And aboard the flagship of the Armada, Kejavik, a great magician himself, was aghast and impressed, and he knew such a powerful spell could not be held long by mortal human, and he ordered his officers and marines to hold. And the spell did hold, and the waiting took its toll, and the ships began to crack and shatter under the weight of the ice, and Kejavik’s captains warned that the ships would sink when the ice vanished and pleaded that they be allowed to release the marines, and Kejavik relented. And the furious orc marines charged across the frozen ice to the dozens of human soldiers and militia that were still gathering on the shore. And with all the orcs disembarked and away from their ships, Ozymandias touched his staff upon the ice and returned it to water, and those who witnessed this say he aged another one hundred years and collapsed on the rocky shore. And at the same time, six thousand orcs, weighted down with armor, disappeared under the waves. And Ozymandias was carried back to his tower.

  All lost and with his cracked ship sinking under him, Kejavik did utter a death curse and plunge himself into the water and doing so created a great living wave that picked up the shattered ships and drowned orcs and crashed them against the city of Vinland, killing nearly all her soldiers and others who had gathered on the shore and leveling the docks and homes and buildings and all that was not made of stone. For three days did the living wave pound at Vinland as if an angry giant, and even some in stone buildings were pulled out by great fists of water and drowned. And all were drowned of the city’s prisoners in the dungeon, and still their evil spirits linger there.

  And ever since Kejavik’s death curse did end his life, the sages of Vinland have been watching for his next reincarnation. And though he would be Kejavik the Naught’s twelfth reincarnation, he would be his thirteenth incarnation, and thirteen is the most special number to the trolls. It is known that this Kejavik would be raised to outdo all his predecessors in brutality and belligerence, and it is supposed he would be the troll to lead the Legion in their final battle to destroy the Righteous Races. This monster may yet be already born, but if so he remains unknown and unseen to the Guild of Sages and Seers. But they have already opened a book on him, sitting on a shelf in the most secure place at their white library, next to the closed books on his previous incarnations, and blank except for the title Kejavik the Twelfth.

  Cronica Acadia

  LXXXV

  While the other Keepers slept, Dangalf marveled over the story of Ozymandias freezing and then unfreezing the Great Bay of Vinland. No wonder Ozymandias had been unseen for so long.
He was probably still slumbering from that feat. It was a master example of an electroplasm debt. Weyd had touched on the subject only casually as it was such an advanced technique. At the highest level, a mage, or more likely an archmage, could continue to cast magic even when his body and his staff and his wand were depleted of their electroplasm store. Later the mage would create that electroplasm while slumbering, paying his electroplasm debt, but at a much slower rate than when replacing his innate pool of electroplasm. Dangalf found the idea of using electroplasm before it was created to be magic’s answer to some of the more unseemly theories of quantum physics.

  Dangalf looked out the carriage window at the darkness outside and suddenly missed the bent trees and impossibly large boulders that seemed so significant when they were walking. He wondered how many stories outside the carriage he was missing as they galloped along through the night. Progress, he thought, drifting off to sleep.

  As the carriage slowed, everyone was awakened by the changing sounds and momentum. The carriage stopped, and Theodore gave them complicated directions for the relatively simple journey. The guard gave them each a week’s per diem in advance and made them sign for it. They all saluted Theodore, and he returned their salute awkwardly, pacifists not being good at saluting. The carriage sped off, and the Keepers walked toward the great mountains ahead that dominated the horizon, six peaks in all and the tallest being Mount Bran but more commonly known by the dwarven capital it housed, Bran Keep.

  Precisely where and when Theodore said they would, they came upon a sign featuring three blue hearts, and they were certain that this was the House of Hearts Inn. It was at a busy crossroads and river port, and with nightfall approaching the inn was filling to capacity even though it was the largest inn they had encountered yet. There were even nine horses kept at the stables, more than they had ever seen in one place before.