The Accidental Archmage, Edmund Batara [read after TXT] 📗

protagonist explanations. He was not playing a video game when the event happened.

He was running away from those meth heads. No game pop-ups. He had tried that

approach.

On the other hand, Superman is a mere creation of a writer’s imagination. From what

he could remember, Mister Mxyzptlk’s home dimension didn’t look like this world. A

god-like being? Well, nobody laid the welcome mat for him or showed up yet as is the

norm for such stories. If such a being did show up, he would try his best not to punch while giving him or her or it a piece of his mind. That would be the practical limit of

what he could do without totally pissing off such a presence. If such a being can

transport him to this world, disintegrating his lanky frame would be the least of its

capabilities if pushed too far. If it was a female, he hoped it would be the sexy,

beautiful and almost naked version of the stories. Most of the stories have the trope.

Even a succubus type would do, not the monstrous and tentacled versions. He couldn't

take that. And edgy as he was, he doubted his mental constitution could take it.

The protagonist angle would also be far-fetched. The vividness, strangeness, and

completeness of this world would be beyond one’s creative imagination. It was too real

and tactile to be born out of a person’s imagination. Magic then? Too random, he

concluded. No reason for his being over here. Again, as with the god-like being theory,

no welcome mat.

A summoning? It should result in him appearing before the summoners or being given

some shred of information about such summoning. He had no delusions about being a

summoned hero or somebody so epic. A lanky young man like him, a heroic figure?

Black hair, thinly muscled, an ordinary face, slightly taller than average height, no

martial skillset? That’s a laugh. A break in time? The three moons clearly show he isn’t

in Earth’s past, present or future. That left the break in reality theory.

Occam’s Razor left that explanation. Unless he could come up with another one. With

that current explanation in mind, he knew he could kiss goodbye his life as he knew it.

He would never see Aunt Emily again, his few friends, his job, and everything he had

the pleasure or displeasure to know. A FUBAR as the army or Marines or whatever

would call it.

He could again feel his anger rising up with a host of swearing bouncing through his

head. A response to his conclusion, a dispassionate part of his mind told him. He was

surprised at the mental dichotomy present in his consciousness. A part raging against

his situation and another part coldly assessing his reactions. The latter then reminded

him that he had been punching the grass with his right fist. Instantly, the pain in his

right fist registered. Inwardly swearing, Tyler stopped beating the ground. His anger

evaporated. His mind went back to practical mode and focused on what he had to do

now, though a degree of fear hovered at the back of his mind.

With no hope of going back, he thought about Aunt Emily, his job, his friends, his life.

But his primary concern was for his Aunt. Is Aunt Emily safe? Would those bastards

hurt her? He hoped Bernie and his shitheads will limit their search, and their attention,

to him. Like they’re going to find him now. Aunt Emily was sure to go to the police

when he does not show up. That in itself would be some protection for her. He’ll be

docketed as a Missing Persons case. With so few officers assigned to similar numerous

cases, he doubted they’ll search for him thoroughly. The police will probably send over

an officer or two to do some investigative work. With police layoffs and underfunding, it will take time before some in-depth work is done. But Bernie and his shitheads will be

under a lot of pressure to lie low or scatter when they hear about the investigation. His

job and friends? There’s nothing he can do about his job and his friends. The law firm

will be informed about his disappearance and will get a new employee. His friends will

know about it when he doesn’t show up but they’ve got their own lives to live. He did

hope Karl and Amiri, his two closest friends, would try to visit his Aunt from time to

time. But then again, that also has a limit, they’ve got to go on with their own lives. In

the meantime, he himself had to survive whatever this place is.

Early afternoon saw him trying to make a rudimentary spear out of a 4-foot branch

using his multitool knife set. Considering the two-inch blade, it was tiring and hard

work. But the fire would temper the pointed edge. It kept him busy while he was still

trying to assimilate the facts of his circumstances. Though a tiny voice from his survival

mindset kept on reminding him about explosive diarrhea because of drinking lake water

without filtering it. He knew he was being paranoid but the experience of being

watched that morning forced him to think of a way of defending himself.

However, the strangeness of the lake made him realize that there was no way he could

fish for food. The lack of visibility in the water precluded it. He knew he should have

bought that emergency fishing gear set. All he can do now is try to try to hunt small

game if he could. A skill he knew he didn’t have. His biscuits won’t last. He only had

two packages of SOS survival biscuits, two of Golden Round cheese crackers and one

beef jerky pack.

By evening, he had already accepted his situation and focused his attention on survival.

He accepted that he was alone, not on Earth, with no food to last more than a day or

two, and he would be dead if he didn’t act. How he arrived and where exactly he was in

this place didn’t concern him yet. Those were questions he didn’t have answers for and

hence could wait for another time. He knew now the flora would be suspect as he had

no way of knowing which are edible and which are poisonous. Some of the