Chapter 7: Chapter 7

“Nein, ich spreche kein Common.”

It was the first thing he heard, approaching one of the nearby city guards who had been staring at him. It was, in a way, killing two birds with one stone. Though Ahya would never see that phrase used, he was sure, as he’d learned it to be an Earth-unique phrase. The guard had been eyeing him suspiciously, clearly intending to walk over and interrogate him, so Eric headed him off. He’d asked the man where in Welsik he was and if he could speak Common. The guard had recognized only the word ‘Common’ and given his reply.

“Well, great,” he said, as the guard only glared more. His command of German was sufficient to recognize the first word of the guard’s reply. ‘Nein’ meant no in German, and, judging by the shake of the man’s head, it was the same in Welsik. “Thank you for your time. Err, Danka Shen.”

Not perfect, but the guard got the point and waved him away with a very irritated air. Even as Eric complied and rejoined the stream of people moving down the wide road, he could feel eyes burning into the back of his neck and thought that he’d probably be scrutinized severely for the duration of his time in this country.

“Which won’t be long,” he added to himself. “Gotta get back to Milagre.”

He stepped off to the side of the road for a few minutes to unsling his pack and dig around inside of it. In his haste to pack, he hadn’t put much thought and consideration into the organization of the items inside, so it was tricky to locate what he was looking for. Eventually, however, he found it and let out the anxious breath he wasn’t aware of holding. He closed the pack up once more and stood, throwing it back over his shoulder.

It was a small blue gem with runes inscribed upon its surface. To call it a gem was a stretch, he knew. It was artificial, merely a dyed piece of strong, durable glass. It was a sending stone, a magical item that carried an enchantment linking it to other sending stones across the world. For him, it was only linked to two people. He raised it to his mouth now, speaking clearly.

“Samuel Bragg.”

It took a moment. He watched a cloudy sort of gas appear out of nowhere in the gem, turning the overall hue slightly green. A faint light poured out from the center, and he heard Samuel’s voice echo softly out of it as if the gem were a small speaker.

“Eric?” The Archmage sounded a little anxious. “I wasn’t expecting to hear back from you so soon. Have you encountered some problem in finding a ship to Welsik?”

“No, I’m in Welsik,” Eric commented dryly.

There was a sufficient pause on the other end as Samuel grappled with the enormity of this statement. If that was shocking, Eric thought with a smirk, wait until he delivered the real important news. “How? There is no mage alive that can teleport someone far enough to cross the ocean.”

“None but Ancient mages,” Eric offered a correction. “They can use World Shift, right?”

“Yes,” Samuel replied, speaking slowly. “But the only Ancients on Tyrman are Grimr and myself. And I know he didn’t send you because he’s been with me since you left. Who sent you there?”

“Menikos.”

As expected, the mere mention of the name had a profound effect on Samuel. He heard a sharp clattering sound as if Samuel had dropped the sending stone. Then a muffled curse and a scraping sound. He’d been picked back up. “Eric, are you sure? That shouldn’t be possible! Should it be possible?”

“Why are you asking me?” Eric asked indignantly, then realized, a fraction of a second too late, that the question probably hadn’t been directed at him. Sure enough, half a second later, he heard a deep, gravelly voice answer, Samuel.

“If he is possessing of his body and mind, it is definitely possible.”

“But how could his body act on its own without a soul?”

“It didn’t,” Eric said quickly. “I figured out who has his body. It’s a necromancer.”

Again, Samuel let out a curse. This stressful interrogation was creating some deep cracks in his usual facade of calm curiosity. “Necromancy! As if we need that hot-headed Bora Bora getting involved!”

“You could pursue it on your own,” Grimr said. “Kill the necromancer, and reclaim Menikos’ body.”

“Yes,” Samuel said decisively. In a matter of seconds, he’d accepted this wrinkle in his plans and was clearly well on his way to forming a new one. “Yes, that’s what I’ll do. Eric, I need you to tell me everything you know.”

“Of course,” Eric agreed. “But first, could you bring me back? I know it’s a huge thing to ask, but it’ll take me nearly a month to get back without you.”

“Sorry,” Samuel said, and Eric could imagine the man wincing at his temporary lapse in thought. “Right. Sit still, and I’ll pull you to me.”

“Thanks.” Eric put the sending stone into the small magic pouch at his belt and straightened up, waiting. He’d only ever been pulled to Samuel like this once before when he’d been fighting on the shoreline of Attos. At that time, he’d been too preoccupied with the prospect of soldiers chasing him with the intent to kill. Now, standing on the side of a busy street with no danger, it seemed to be taking longer than it should. The guard continued to stare at him, and he found his attention focusing on a particularly dirty spot of a nearby building.

It happened without warning, without any sort of buildup. Suddenly, he was jerked forward. The space around him went from a clear picture to a blurred impression, then to a black space, speckled with streaking white lines. It looked like those old movies, the ones that depicted hyperspeed travel in space. He imagined that he was taken momentarily from Ahya, pulled through whatever kind of space surrounded Ahya.

This time was different, he thought. He couldn’t be sure, but he would have guessed that he was traveling more slowly. Perhaps the difference in distances affected some kind of change to the time it took, he thought. Then, with a gut-wrenching yank, he was pulled off course. He was left floating in a pure black void in less time than it took him to blink. Except, he thought, that it wasn’t a void, for it didn’t feel empty. He could feel two definite presences in the space around him. Larger than life and both malicious and indifferent.

There was more, too. Just barely large enough to spot, he saw four spinning balls. No, not balls. Planets. These were worlds! Even from this distance, he could easily pick out Earth, where he was from. And his knowledge of Ahya let him easily pick out Ahya, recognizing the rough shape of the New Tyrman continent. It was horribly disorienting but also fascinating. He found he couldn’t look away. That is until someone spoke from directly behind him.

You are reading story Curse of the Outsiders (Chronicles of a New World #1) at novel35.com

“I’m terribly sorry, but I cannot let you pass.”

He whirled around and saw someone standing behind him. It was a boy wearing a simple white tunic and breeches. His hair was golden, and his eyes a clear blue. They had a mischievous tint to them as if the boy was dreaming of any number of pranks to play on him. Both his hair and eyes seemed to shine with an ethereal light, but it was his presence that was the most palpable. Eric had felt this presence before. The boy before him was undeniably an Ancient.

“Who are you?” Eric asked, troubled to find that his voice was nothing but a faint echo, barely audible in the silence. “I’ve never met you before, and I’ve met a few different Ancients.”

“I am Oras,” the boy said. “I am the one Ancient forgotten to all but the Mother.”

He appeared to consider his own response for several centuries. “Well, that’s not true. My older brothers know of my existence. But they will not share it, for it is my purpose to exist beyond the memories of the world.”

“So what are you going to do to me?” Eric asked. He both wanted to know and wished that his answer would remain unanswered. “If I’m trespassing, will you destroy me?”

Oras smiled. It was a kind smile, even friendly for most Ancients he’d met. “I will not destroy you. That would go against my purpose. And you are not trespassing. I can sense that another Ancient has moved you, and normally I would allow that to transpire.”

“But this time…”

“This time, you are in danger of breaking one of the most Ancient laws,” Oras explained. “It is forbidden to travel through more than one plane at a time. As there is a plane in your way, I will be returning you to where you have come from.”

“Oh,” Eric said. He supposed it was better than simply being wiped from existence like a bug splatting into a cosmic windshield. He didn’t doubt that Oras had that kind of power. Now that the guarantee of his existence was confirmed, he found he had a question. “Why is it your purpose to be lost?”

By way of answer, Oras pointed towards the worlds spinning and circling each other. Eric glanced back at them and realized with a start that they were much closer now. He actually stood between them. Now that he was closer, he also noticed a golden band that wove around and between the worlds. It was pure light and simultaneously seemed thin as a hair and so broad that he was in danger of being surrounded by it.

“This is my domain,” Oras said. “I exist around the worlds, but outside. It is my task to stand between Mother and her enemies.”

At the mention of enemies, a frightening sort of rumble emanated from the blackness around them. Eric knew, instinctively, who he was referring to. “Chaos and Corruption.”

Oras nodded, a sadness settling onto his face. “In order to do my job properly, I had to be cast out of Ahya to be made my own entity. I am both Ancient and Primordial.”

“How lonely,” Eric whispered. 

Oras merely shrugged. “Such is the nature of my task. In the end, I will be welcomed back into my Mother’s arms and return home.”

Eric found that he had nothing to say to that. Yet, at the same time, he felt his lips moving, almost speaking without his will. “You’re the protector. But you’re also more. You’re… time. Aren’t you?”

It wasn’t really a guess. Due to his unique nature, Eric could understand the meaning of the Ancient tongue and knew that ‘oras’ was the word for time. Oras smiled widely at him. “I thought you might grasp that meaning. Yes. I am not only Mother’s protector but also the keeper of the one thing she could not control.”

“You’re a very interesting kid,” Eric said. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to call you a kid. You’re just…”

“I take no offense,” Oras said. He lifted one hand, palm outward, towards him. “My brothers and I often encountered surprise from the mortal races due to our size. We were all small, but we are the oldest.”

He means Grimr and Neratas, Eric thought. This was Grimr’s little brother? But before he could think to ask Oras about that, he felt a powerful pressure on his face and body. He closed his eyes, trying to mentally prepare for the sudden reversal of his travel. He was disappointed to have to take the long way back, but in a strange way, this chance encounter was a nice compensation.

All at once, the pressure became unbearable, and he thought he might actually be crushed against an immovable surface. But just before the point of obliteration, he felt the resistance against his movement fade to nothing, and he experienced the same journey, but in reverse. The stars streaked past him, resolved into darkness, and the image of where he’d been standing came into sharp focus again. He stumbled slightly as he re-entered but caught himself by putting one hand on the building. It was the building that first alerted him to the fact that something was off.

The wall, which had previously sported that mark of dirt, was now perfectly clean. Sure, there was dust and debris around him as there had been before, but the wall was spotless. That was strange, he thought with a frown. Maybe as the entity controlling time, Oras could actually push him through that aspect as well. Perhaps, in that difference of time, someone had cleaned the wall. Or he’d arrived before the wall was made dirty. It didn’t look like too much time had passed, he thought. The sun was close to the same position in the sky as it had been.

“This day just never ends,” he sighed to himself. He pulled the sending stone out of his pocket once more. “Samuel Bragg.”

A few seconds as the stone filled, and he spoke before Samuel could. “Sorry, Samuel. It looks like that didn’t work. I can’t say why in public, but it looks like I’ll have to come back by boat after all.”

A third long pause. Eric glanced over to where the guard had been posted and frowned. A new man was there. But his uniform was different. The colors were the same, but the design was… more faded. Older, almost. He shook away the fanciful nation. Of course, the guard uniforms wouldn’t be perfectly identical. All that mattered was the symbol of the royal crest of Welsik, a hammer striking a flame. Samuel’s voice drifted out of the sending stone, and the tone, more than the words, sent a chill down Eric’s spine.

“My apologies, but I don’t recognize this voice. How did you come to possess a sending stone linked to mine?”

[This chapter was sponsored by Garfalk]