The Accidental Archmage by Edmund Batara (read out loud books .TXT) 📕
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- Author: Edmund Batara
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Ivar paused for a while, clearly thinking about the subject.
"Imagine dropping into the middle of a vast ocean, the mouth of a volcano, rocky terrain, a desert, or in the midst of carnivores. One has to survive the drop first and
then contend with either broken bones or more serious injuries. Even if one survives,
the chance of finding a friendly civilization is quite small. There are civilizations and
tribes out there which look at us as a meal or a propitious sacrifice to their own gods.
Besides, there are a lot of mythological and other creatures roaming out there and most
are not friendly to humans. As I said, it is an extremely dangerous world.”
“Can we get home? To Earth, I mean.”
“It is possible if you have the magical skill and power for it. Either by the use of an
existing exit gate or portal or by making a new one. Finding an existing exit portal is
trying to find the proverbial needle in a mountain of a haystack. All have been closed by
the pantheons. Opening one will need the magical knowledge and ability of a major
deity. And a very complicated ceremony. Not to mention the massive energy required to
force a way back. And, this is a crucial consideration, the summoner of such a portal
will have to contend against the desire of this world’s pantheons to keep such doors
closed.”
“So, we’re really stuck here?”
“Yes. As you Americans would say, like glue.”
Somebody knocked on the door. Tyler heard the word “Davre!” being called out in a
woman’s voice. That must be Helga. Looking at the Gothi, Tyler saw him already in his
mature guise. That was fast chanting, he thought. The Gothi called out in reply. Tyler
noted that even the timbre of the voice had changed.
The Gothi looked at him. “Time for the day-meal. You think you are strong enough to
go out of the room?”
“Yeah. I think I can manage. I am still hungry, very hungry. But I don’t feel that weak
anymore and the pain has receded. Must be your potion. How about my clothes?”
“Wait for a moment,” said the Gothi as he went to the wooden chest beside the table.
He pulled out a set of clothes.
“Here. Put this on. These are not Eric’s, I brought them with me. Hope they fit.”
The Gothi turned his back while Tyler put on the outfit. It felt a bit loose and one size
larger. The long-armed tunic was light brown and went down to a point above his
knees while the baggy trousers were in dark blue. A buckled leather belt completed the
ensemble. It looked like what Eric was wearing.
“We’ll leave the cloak, boots and other gear here. We’re inside so you can walk barefoot.”
Digging through the contents of the chest, the Gothi brought out a necklace with a
medallion which had a piece of amber in the middle.
“Here, put this own. It’s a runic device for language. But it’s only good for Nordic and
similar languages. You can talk to people and people can talk to you. You will actually
be talking and hearing in English but it makes people think you are conversing in their
language. Even listeners will believe it to be so. Area of effect would be around eight
feet around you. So try not to shout.”
Tyler inspected the medallion. The thin metal around the amber centerpiece appeared
to be copper, inscribed with runes. The necklace also looked to be copper, made out of
tiny interlocking rings.
“I wear one myself,” said the Gothi, “and these things are rare so don’t lose it. Only
deities and high-level specialist mages can make them. But be careful, such deities and
mages can also see through the magical effects. They will know you for a stranger and
think that you are a high-ranking mage. That may be good or bad depending on the
circumstances.”
“So how did you get these?” asked Tyler as he put on the necklace.
“Fringe benefit,” answered the Gothi, who was looking him over. The Gothi suggested
he hide the necklace inside his tunic.
“Freaking Star Trek universal translator,” commented Tyler as he hid the item.
“Star Trek?”
“Cultural reference again. Sorry. Science fiction television series. Came out during the
1960’s.”
“I do read science fiction,” said the Gothi, “unfortunately, that reading genre doesn’t
seem to exist here. It’s mostly runic spell books, trade accounts, history of nobles,
lineages of people I truly don’t care about. You get the idea.”
“Hah! You’re living the story already!” replied Tyler.
“Dangerously so, Mr. Havard,” commented the Gothi, amused at the suggestion.
“Now, your back story. You’re an apprentice trader from Barholm. That’s very far from
here. Your caravan got hit by bandits, you escaped and wandered through the forest
for several days. You’re still recovering and have memory lapses. Don’t talk too much.
Let me handle it. Good thing you do look as if you lost a lot of weight.”
Tyler looked at the Gothi.
“You know, that has really puzzled me. I only noticed that I had lost body weight when
I was in the forest. I guess I shed around 25 to 30 pounds. Though I didn’t think it
affected me that much. It was as if I naturally got thinner without the negatives of
abrupt weight loss. The consequences of arrival in this world had more impact.”
“Etheric cost of transfer. Happened to me too. Moving over requires power. Using the
portal has an energy cost. In the past, this energy cost was serviced by sacrifices or
offerings of power. In our instances, the portal took it out from our bodies. As it
couldn’t get magical power from you, it took some of your body mass as payment.
Come, let’s have our meal. I am hungry too.”
The meal was laid out in a bigger room which served as the dining room, the kitchen
and the receiving area of the house. A half-opened wooden door reinforced by iron bars
led to the outside of the house. The room still smelled of smoke from the cooking fires.
The area and its furniture were all made of wood, except for the large cooking area
made of stone. A cauldron hung from an iron rod laterally traversing the enclosed
cooking chamber. It also served as the fireplace of the house, the chimney’s
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