Accidental Mage Read online

  Accidental Mage

  Book Three of the Accidental Traveler LitRPG Adventure

  Jamie Davis

  C.J. Davis

  MedicCast Productions

  Copyright © 2017 by Jamie Davis. All rights reserved.

  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, businesses, events, or locales is purely coincidental.

  Reproduction in whole or in part of this publication without express written consent is strictly prohibited.

  The authors greatly appreciate you taking the time to read their work. Please consider leaving a review wherever you bought the book, or telling your friends about it, to help them spread the word.

  Thank you for supporting their work.

  Cover art by CoversByChristian.com

  Created with Vellum

  To the GameLit and LitRPG community. You all have been super supportive of this saga. Enjoy the final chapter in Hal’s adventures.

  — Jamie Davis

  To Madison and my family.

  — C.J. Davis

  Contents

  More Books

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Also by Jamie Davis

  Leave a Review

  About the Author

  Get a free book and updates on new books.

  Go to JamieDavisBooks.com/litrpg-list

  —

  Accidental Traveller LitRPG Series

  Accidental Thief

  Accidental Warrior

  Accidental Mage (Dec 2017)

  —

  Extreme Medical Services Books

  Book 1 - Extreme Medical Services

  Book 2 - The Paramedic’s Angel

  Book 3 - The Paramedic’s Choice

  Book 4 - The Paramedic’s Hunter

  Book 5 - The Paramedic’s Witch

  Book 6 - The Paramedic’s Nemesis

  —

  Eldara Sister Series

  The Nightingale’s Angel

  Blue and Gray Angel

  —

  The Broken Throne Series

  The Charm Runner

  Prophecy’s Child

  Queen of Avalon

  Stolen Destiny

  Mended Throne

  Prologue

  The imperial courier struggled to stay on his feet as he slid from the saddle. Three long days he’d been on the road from Hyroth to The Crystal City, capital of the Empire. The horse next to him, covered in streaks of white lather from its extended exertion, was near collapse as well. It was the sixth and final remount of the string with which he’d started.

  The order given had been clear. Deliver the message of Baron Norak’s death and the defeat of the imperial army at the hands of the rebels with all possible haste. The order was included in the message he carried, and he knew his life depended on his carrying it out to the best of his ability.

  Two imperial guards stared at him as if he would turn into some sort of assassin on the spot. Compared to his dust-covered and sweat streaked uniform, their gleaming, polished armor fairly blinded him, reflecting the noonday sun high overhead.

  A door opened at the far side of the courtyard. The courier struggled as he straightened to attention, pulling his shoulders back and erect despite his exhaustion. A purple robed man in gold slippers and a polished silver skull cap emerged and strode across the yard until he stood opposite the courier, scanning his dirty uniform and bedraggled appearance with apparent disgust.

  “Well, out with it,” the robed man ordered.

  “I was told the message was for the Emperor’s ears only, uh, sir, uh, my lord.” The robed man wasn’t an officer and the courier struggled for an appropriate mode of address.

  “If the message is bad news, you do not want to be present when it is delivered to his Imperial Majesty. Hand it over and I will ensure I take it in with the afternoon dispatches.”

  The courier struggled to work up enough spit to moisten his lips and keep talking.

  “By your leave, my lord, I have my orders. I was told to ride by the fastest route to deliver this message to the Emperor. I rode five mounts to death and I fear this one will not carry a rider ever again. I must deliver this to the Emperor directly.”

  “Well, it’s your funeral. You’ve been warned. The Emperor doesn’t care for his luncheon to be interrupted. If the news you are carrying is sufficiently upsetting — let’s just say, the Emperor has been known to literally kill the messenger.”

  The robed man turned and waved a hand over his shoulder, beckoning to the courier to follow behind him. Shifting the strap of the shoulder bag that carried the written message, the exhausted imperial courier quickstepped forward to catch up and fell in a few steps behind the robed functionary.

  The courier tried not to stare wide-eyed at the palace as the man led him through the marble-floored halls, past rooms hung with brightly colored tapestries and paintings. Every servant and petitioner he passed in his journey through the grand building stared at him. He felt self-conscious at the unwanted attention and pulled at his wrinkled and stained uniform, trying to brush some of the dust away.

  The robed man stopped at a pair of double doors, painted in bright colors of red and gold, the imperial seal prominently displayed in the panels of both doors.

  “This is your last chance, soldier. Hand over the message and I’ll see you get a bath and ample reward for your service to his Majesty.”

  Gulping his doubts down, the courier shook his head without saying anything. He didn’t trust his voice.

  “Very well,” the other man sighed. “When you approach the Emperor, keep your eyes on the floor and don’t look him in the eye. As you reach the dais, bow and drop to one knee. Remain there until he acknowledges you. Only then may you stand and deliver your message. After you’ve handed it to him, step back to your original place and return to one knee while he reads it. If he dismisses you, remain facing him as you back away to the doors and into the hallway before turning around. Understood?”

  The courier nodded.

  The purple-robed man stepped forward and pushed open the double doors revealing a room more massive than any the courier had ever seen before. The high ceilings rose upward to buttressed arches high above and the walls stretched outward to either side before him in a broad square. The floor was ornate with marble slabs inlaid with mosaics of gold and silver depicting scenes of people engaged in everything from sports to outright debauchery.

  Wrenching himself back to the task at hand, he quickstepped to catch up again and followed the man in the robe to a raised dais at the center of the room. A large, round form reclined on a divan on top of the dais with several scantily clad women in diaphanous white and gold silks standing around hi
m. One plucked grapes from a bunch held by another and placed them one at a time in the man’s mouth.

  Realizing he was staring at the Emperor himself as he approached, the courier wrenched his gaze down to the floor raising his eyes only enough so he could see the heels of the man leading him up to the dais. When the robed man stopped, the courier halted and dropped to his knees, his eye glued to the floor in front of him.

  “What is it, Decimus? You know I do not like to be bothered this time of the day.”

  “I’m sorry, Your Majesty. This courier just arrived from the west and insisted his message is for you only. I tried to dissuade him and hold the missive for the afternoon affairs, but he was adamant.”

  “Adamant, was he? He’s either a fool or a dedicated soldier. He’s certainly dirty enough. You could’ve at least cleaned him up a little.”

  “He said it was urgent, Your Majesty.”

  “Well then, let’s have it. Step forward, man. I will be the judge if this message is important enough to interrupt my lunch.”

  The courier stood, his knees shaking so bad, he was afraid he’d fall over as soon as he put weight on them. Trying to step with confidence, he moved forward to the edge of the dais and mounted the first step, eyes on the floor while he pulled out the sealed message. He extended it toward the emperor. A pasty white hand snatched the letter from him and he backed up until he’d returned to his original position and dropped back to his knees.

  The crackling of paper announced the breaking of the seal and the opening of the letter from the Warden of Hyroth.

  “Courier, do you know what is in this message?”

  “Yes, Your Majesty.” Every imperial courier knew to commit messages to memory in case the original message was destroyed or damaged during delivery.

  “Is it true? Has Baron Norak been killed and his army routed.”

  “I’m afraid so, Your Majesty. I was likely the last courier to leave Hyroth before the city was fully besieged by the slave army marching on it.”

  “I told that fool Norak to be careful. The prophecies were clear that the Opponent would be formidable and not easy to defeat.”

  The robed man cleared his throat.

  “Sire, the Baron could be headstrong that is certain. He must have underestimated the power of the Opponent. My council of mages and I have felt the power of his gateways once again. It is likely he’s returned to whence he came.”

  “You’ve put the plans we discussed in action then, Decimus, despite this setback with Baron Norak’s unfortunate demise? You assured me your wizards are up to the challenge.”

  “All has been arranged according to your wishes, Sire.”

  “Then the Opponent will return to us. This time, he’ll come to me on our terms where he can be dealt with directly.”

  “Yes, your Majesty.” The robed man, who the courier now knew was Decimus, the leader of the Emperor’s mage council, turned to leave. He stopped next to the courier.

  “Uh, what should I do with the courier, Your Majesty?”

  The courier stiffened. His fate was about to be decided.

  “Reward him. He has served us well. Despite the bad news, we know the plan to deal with Opponent once and for all is set in motion. Hal Dix will be my prisoner and then I will show him what happens to those who defy me.”

  1

  The landing gear of the airliner touched down with a jolt, jerking Hal’s thoughts back to the present. He couldn’t wait to share his news. The management leadership weekend had been a success after all. Hal’s strategy for their paintball capture the flag games had won the day for his team over his nemesis Barry’s team. It had even earned him a coveted invitation to sit at the table with Arrantis CEO Justin Thomas. Justin personally congratulated Hal on his leadership skills and told him he was “a person to keep an eye on.”

  The dinner ended with an offer to join the young executive track reserved for only a few select trainees. Hal accepted immediately and was told they'd reassign him to the corporate headquarters downtown upon his return to Baltimore.

  Hal couldn’t wait to tell Mona about his good fortune on the weekend trip. His wife was a successful engineering executive, but she’d always told him she had faith in his abilities, too. She said she expected him to rise as high as she had. Now he could tell her he was on the way.

  He pulled out his phone and turned it on, so he could text Mona and tell him he was on his way home soon. He sent the message then pocketed his phone without waiting for a reply. They’d reached the terminal already and he was ready to leave the plane. He wanted to be home with Mona and their eighteen-month-old daughter, Cari.

  It took him longer than usual to collect his suitcase and catch the shuttle to the long-term parking lot. He checked his phone several times. There’d been no reply from Mona.

  She told him she was going to try and get home early from work tonight so they could have dinner as a family when he got back in town. Maybe she stopped at the grocery store on her way home after picking Cari up at daycare.

  Hal shrugged and started driving home. Traffic was lighter than usual, and he made good time across town to his neighborhood. He pulled into his driveway and saw Mona’s SUV parked in front of the garage. The rear passenger door was open along with the rear liftgate and Hal saw grocery bags sitting in the back waiting to carry inside.

  Parking, he opted to leave his suitcases for later and grabbed several grocery bags to carry inside.

  The kitchen door was open, and Hal called out as he walked inside.

  “Mona, I’m home. Wait until I tell you about my trip.”

  There was no reply and before he could call out again, Hal saw the spilled bags on the floor next to Mona’s upended purse. Cari’s empty sippy-cup lay on its side next to the kitchen table.

  Something was wrong, and Hal’s heart sank in his chest. He dropped the grocery bags he carried and ran through the house. He searched every room, calling for both his wife and daughter.

  There was no answer. The house was as still as death.

  No one was home but him.

  There were more signs of a struggle in the family room. The fight overturned the coffee table and one of the legs had been snapped off at the base. He picked up the broken table leg and noticed the sticky smear of blood and hair on the jagged end.

  The hair was black and that brought him a moment’s relief. Both Mona and Cari had blonde hair. Whoever had been whacked by the broken table leg, it hadn’t been his wife or daughter.

  Hal pulled his phone from his pocket and started to dial 911 to notify the police of the apparent home invasion and his missing wife and daughter. His thumb stopped before hitting send, hovering over the button. His eyes fell on the sheet of parchment with an old-fashioned wax seal affixed to the bottom. A steel dagger pinned the parchment note to the drywall.

  Letting the hand holding the phone drop to his side without completing the call to the police, Hal crossed to the letter left for him on the wall. He already knew in his heart what it meant. He recognized the seal impressed into the wax. Hal dreaded reading the words he feared were written there but he pulled it down from the wall and broke the seal, unfolding the parchment.

  Greetings to Hal Dix from His Imperial Majesty Emperor Kang, Warden of the Four Winds, Ruler of the Eastern Isles, etc. etc.

  It is time we met in person so that we might come to an arrangement agreeable to both of us. I have extended an invitation to your wife and child to join us in our palace in the Crystal City.

  Your presence is requested at your earliest convenience so that we might put an end to our mutual enmity. Do not keep us waiting too long. I suspect your family would not like it if you disappoint us.

  Sincerely,

  Kang

  Hal stared at the message trying to understand how this had happened. Tildi had never let on that he or his family was ever in any danger.

  The old wizard would have told him, wouldn’t she?

  He stood there for a long time, mulling
over his options. It was dark out by the time he managed to spur himself to action. Folding the message up and shoving it in his pocket, Hal went out and closed the two cars, bringing his luggage inside and unzipping his checked bag.

  Sitting on top of his clothes were his matched daggers. Tildi had managed to get them to him in his checked suitcase after using them to get him picked up by airport security before his trip to the leadership weekend.

  He supposed he should be thankful he had them back. Now he needed to figure out how he was going to return to Fantasma and get his family back. Kang assumed he knew how to get there but Tildi had always been instrumental in opening the portal in the past. Would the computer game work portal he’d used the first time work again?

  Hal strapped on his dagger belt so that one dagger rode on each hip, the black leather scabbards hanging down on either side of his blue jeans. He didn’t know if they would be able to make the trip to the very real gaming world he’d just left behind, but Hal wanted to be ready if he managed to initiate the transfer.

  He raced up to his office in the spare bedroom and powered up his desktop. While it booted up, he dug through a stack of game cases and DVD boxes until he found it. It was a plain, clear plastic jewel case with a DVD inside. The disc was labeled Fantasma in black permanent marker.