The Accidental Archmage Edmund Batara (books you have to read .txt) 📖

had a Sumerian

dictionary. Even if it is the oldest known language, distinct and separate from the

Assyrian and Babylonian languages.”

“And magic is real here?”

“Yes. So don’t look surprised if you see it being performed before you. A lot of people

would probably love to visit this place. Though most would probably not survive the

experience.”

“Why is that?”

“Well, it is a bit primitive, as you can see. Also brutal and dangerous. But very

interesting. Only a few patches of this world can be called civilized and by that, I mean

people won’t kill, eat or sacrifice strangers on sight. And I am not even including the

mythological beasties. From the dangerous legends of our world unfortunately. If it

comes to that, then one can choose from giant wolves, spiders, drakes, and the like. If

one prefers the humanoid kind, then take your pick: frost giants, mountain giants,

cyclopean versions of the same, and others I do not know nor care to know about. I

have heard about dragons but I still have the pleasure of not seeing one, even from a

distance. Even Adar has its own legends of malevolent creatures, communities of them

in some stories.”

“Got it. The boogeyman is real here. How primitive is primitive?”

“As far as I know, that would range from what we know as the hunting-gathering

stages of development up to the Roman period. For some reason, visitations from Earth

started tapering off during the Iron Age and then stopped, except for solitary visitors,

during the Late Roman period. But then again, I may be mistaken.”

“Huh…. that is a lot to take in,” replied a dumbfounded Tyler, “You’re not joking?”

“Unfortunately, no. But lessons later. Name first.”

“You know, that thing about deities and names really make me apprehensive about something with starts with “Thor.” That hammer of his is nasty. I did see the movie.

Can we avoid anything to do with deities?”

“No problem, how about a reference to your job back on Earth? What did you do?”

“I was a paralegal assistant. Not a lawyer, mind you. But one who helps in the work

relating to the practice of law. An ordinary paper-pusher and gofer. Had to stop college

and work when my parents died. Planned to go back when I had the funds.”

“I am sorry. My condolences for your loss.”

“It’s okay. That was about eighteen months ago. Accident. Orphaned. No brothers or

sisters. Except for Aunt Emily, I don’t know any relatives.”

“In a way, you’re lucky. My parents were still alive when I moved or jumped. But

“jumped” would be a good description. Though the term “stumbled” would be a better

one. I left behind two brothers and three sisters. Plus other family and friends. And a

girlfriend. I stumbled through in 1954. They must be very old now or dead.”

Ivar looked at Tyler again.

“Time passes a lot slower here, you know.” A profound sadness could be seen in his

eyes. He looked away. For a few moments, an awkward silence left both men with their

own memories.

“Anyway, that’s done and can’t be changed,” said Ivar as he faced Tyler again, “the

word “law” is Norse in origin, as in Danelaw in early English history. Though we can’t

use that. Nobody uses that as a name. How about Havard? It means high guardian.

You were sort of involved in the practice of law. The term means an advocate or a

defender of rights.”

“You know, Ivar, for a minute there I thought you were joking about lawyers back

home. Too many lawyer jokes floating around. But that would be fine. No idea what to

name myself anyway. My second name could be… something about wolves. Got jumped

by a pack early on during arrival.”

“Havard Ulriksson. High guardian, the second name could mean a son of the wolf.

Though in Teutonic etymology, Ulrik could mean noble ruler. In Danish, it means ruler

of all,” smiled Ivar.

“How do you know these things?” exclaimed Tyler.

“Swede, don’t forget. From Scandinavia, as you Americans would describe the countries there. Finished my first year in Archaeology and Ancient History at the University of

Uppsala. Volunteered to work at a dig site in Egypt for extra credit and the travel. Was

clearing a wall we found in a tunnel system. Found it to be a secret entrance while

alone. Stepped inside and got dumped here.”

“That sounds better than my arrival. A sudden bright hole in front of me as I was

running away from a mugging. Found myself dropping into a lake. Havard Ulriksson it

is. Wait! I just remembered, how did you know that English is my native language?”

“Easy. I even knew you were an American. Looked through your pack. Helga kept it for

you. I guess the contents are dry now. She laid them all out in the sun. Water spilled all

over the inside. There are some items there that I don’t recognize. I am guessing those

are inventions of your time. With you being hurt, the strangeness of your attire and the

contents of your pack, Eric immediately set out to fetch me. Eric is the man you saw

earlier. A hunter. He explained to me what happened. He thought you were either a

wolf or a small bear out to get him. You were crashing through the forest in his

direction. It was a good thing it was already dark. Otherwise, the arrow would have

killed you. He’s good with that bow of his.”

“But why fetch you, of all people?”

“I got a new job here,” Ivar said with a smirk, “I am the resident Gothi of the

settlement located around ten miles from here, called Maljen. It means “priest”, “holy

man”, “local shaman”, or even “principal magical adept”, take your pick. I represent

some of the Norse Aesir, with Odin the All-Father as my principal deity. My robe carries

his colors.”

Tyler was about to ask a question when the door opened again. The woman he saw

earlier entered the room, carrying a clay jug and a bowl. She placed them on the table

and also placed a small vial beside the jug. She gave Tyler another nervous smile,

nodded at Ivar, left the room and closed the door.

“Your English is quite good,” Tyler told Ivar as the man stood to get the jug and the

bowl.

“English is taught in Sweden. But