The Accidental Archmage by Edmund Batara (read out loud books .TXT) 📕

Divide between you and Habrok. Bring food and water. We’ll leave this position now and move deeper to

the forest. And... wait, let me think.....Habrok scouts for us and keeps overwatch. You

carry me and the tarp. Don’t forget the staff. I don’t think I have the energy to walk for

a while. Do it now. I can’t keep my eyes open and I am finding it difficult to think.”

After some time, Tyler felt hoisted. Opening an eye, he found himself on Jorund’s right

shoulder. The man was carrying his staff on his left hand while waterskins and a sack of

food slung from his left. Man, this guy is strong. He closed his eyes and found that the

resistance in his mind to sleeping was gone. His last thought before his beauty sleep

was how and why did it disappear.

He woke up and found himself lying down on the tarp, Jorund was a few feet away.

Habrok was nowhere to be seen. Oh, my aching head. His mind was now clearer but he

still felt weak. Jorund noticed that he had awoken and came over with the waterskin.

“Hungry, my lord?”

He nodded and Jorund also gave him some bread and meat. While he was eating,

Jorund was looking at him. The man had something on his mind. He decided to ask his

questions first.

“Where are we? And where’s Habrok?”

“Deeper in the forest, my lord. We’re in a defile and are already some distance from the

old cabin. About four miles. Habrok went back to remove traces of our passage. Also to

see what’s happening. He’ll be back in an hour or so. About two hours have already

passed since he left. We’ll need to know if they start moving in this direction.”

“Oh, that’s excellent. Wait. You carried me for four miles?”

“Yes, my lord but don’t worry about it. You were very light. Suffering from magical

exhaustion.”

“Magical exhaustion?”

“You didn’t know about that risk, my lord?”

“Please stop calling me “my lord”. Where I come from, that title is not acceptable at all.

And to tell you the truth, it makes me uncomfortable. You can call me Havard. If you

have to use a title or something, just call me “Sir” or “Sire”.

“As you wish. But I cannot call you by your given name. It is not proper. We are sworn

to you. What is this “Sir” and “Sire”?”

“The word “sir” can be used to refer to a senior of a person or a leader in a military group. It is a word of respect. “Sire” is used sometimes instead of Lord. It can also be a

title of respect or may refer to a respected elder.”

“I think we would prefer “Sire”. Please consider that when a person to whom oaths of

service have been given also have titles of respect and honor, such honor is also shared

by the people who serve him. Sire. Honoring you in the presence of others also gives us

honor in return."

“I can settle with “Sire”, Jorund.”

“Sire, would you mind if I ask you some questions. I don’t intend to pry. But this has to

do with the condition you experienced.”

“I think that’s reasonable.”

“First, I don’t think you had formal magical training, Sire. Even if the Gothi of Maljen

treated you as a mage with respect and honor. I doubt if you were ever a trader at all.

Magical exhaustion is a condition which even apprentice mages know about. It is one of

the main dangers of spell casting. Casting spells means forcing magical energy through

a mortal vessel. It is draining, exhausting, and if uncontrolled, dangerous to mind and

body. During our training for combat magic, we lost two men due to magical

exhaustion. One became mad and the other died when the magical energy burned his

innards and left him a husk.”

“WHAT?”

“We are but mortal, Sire. Mages cannot maintain continuous use of spells. Even the

casting of three minor ones in quick succession will exhaust an ordinary mage. Adepts

can try but almost all have to settle for two. The most I have seen is five successive

minor spells but the mage collapsed. Mages need a little time between spells for their

bodies to recover from the use of magical energy. A High Mage can probably manage

three major spells and two minor ones in one casting session but even that is a draining

exercise. Yet I have seen you cast spell after spell, major fireball spells at that and that blade spell, with negligible effect on you. It took your casting of continuous spells

against the dokkalfr wagons and the jotnar heavy catapults to finally wear you down.

And in all that time, I have not seen you use a runic plate or tablet.”

“And what do you think?”

“Habrok has no idea of magical issues, Sire. All he uses are prepared items. He won’t

understand what he saw you do back at the clearing and against the enemy host. But I

do. But you are my lord now. More than a lord. What the All-Father made me do is fit

for a god. I have no reservations or regrets about my vow. What I have seen stays with

me. I am concerned about your lack of knowledge on the mortal dangers of magical use. I worry it may lead to your unwitting death or madness. Do not get me wrong,

Sire. You are the most powerful human mage I have ever seen. The fact you can cast

spells without runes and spells nobody had even thought of, like those blades and those

spheres of fire, make you a uniquely powerful magic user in the whole of Adar. I am

honored to be at your service and I am proud to have given you my oath.”

“What else have you seen me do?”

“Those dokkalfr you removed from existence the night of the ambush and the attack on

the jotnar encampment. You have clearly met the All-Father, something even the High

Mages, the Jarls, and the High King cannot say for themselves. You have survived

Fossegrim and one of its drakes. It is clear you have the favor of the power that resides

in Fossegrim Forest. Those alone are the stuff of legends. And your quest has just

started.”

“Ah, Jorund. I begin to think you already suspect me as