New Mythology: New Mythology, #1

By Dylan Dittrich

Three orders of berserkers. Three orders of superhuman, magic hunting berserkers. Three orders of concrete crushing, car chucking, so angry about to burst a blood vessel, berserkers, are hunting newly minted sorcerer Brad Carson. And he's going to hunt them back.

 

While on a high school trip to New York, thanks to the meddling of an overly curious friend, Brad bears witness to a battle between warriors of a caliber that hasn't existed for thousands of years. When they try to silence him he manifests a power that does more than just save his life, it puts all of his would be killers through the side of a building. Not to mention overturns a few cars, rips a handful of signs out of the ground, and generally makes a street look like a few dozen rioting sports fans had just been by. He is a sorcerer, a rarity in this day and age, but with that rarity comes value. Now the berserkers don't want to kill him, they each want to recruit him for their own 'Lord'. And their idea of recruitment involves more threats, torture, and general will breaking than Brad cares to go through at the moment.

 

Not that he's bothered by any of this. Brad has always been smart, always been cocky, and he knows that with a little training assistance from his sidekicks, err, friends, he'll master his magic and he'll be the one standing on top at the end. Oh he's going to have some fun with this mess he's found himself in.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Dylan Dittrich
• Release date: May 18, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201338015

Book preview

Prologue

The mountain winds howled as the man stepped down the stone stairs. Wrapping around the mountain peak without a single seam, nick, or crack, it was as if the stairs had simply grown from the mountain side. Widening at their top, they turned into a grand gate, the only entrance into the castle carved from the summit. Emerging stark white from the sun-hued sandstone summit, the castle overlooked a vast expanse of golden plains. Patches of farmland, acres upon acres, dotted the landscape, but despite their size they couldn't begin to cover the seemingly endless grassland stretching into the horizon.

The man, Augur, as he was known to the world, glanced out at the view. It was an impressive sight to be sure, but it was nothing compared to the peak itself. Warm light softly emanated from every surface of the mountain. Above the castle, a massive stained glass window of bright whites, soft golds, and soothing blues ringed the mountain top. When the light hit it just right, as it did at that moment, it bathed the land for miles in a faint pastel rainbow.

A castle. It’s the twenty-first century and they choose to rule their piece of the cosmos from a castle, he mused to himself with a genuine laugh. They have so much power and they're still so terrified that people will forget it.

Still, it was quite the impressive sight. He took it in as he walked. The castle was beautiful, but that wasn’t what really made him admire it. The castle had an effect on people. They looked to it when they needed a reminder. A reminder that they were blessed like no other. At the thought another chuckle escaped his lips before he could stop himself. No one went over the top like a Lord.

Augur's pace was brisk, yet somehow silent. No footsteps echoed as he walked. No clothing rustled as he moved. Restraint permeated his every motion. He had to be silent, after all the occupants of the castle would have objected to his leaving. The Sabaoth tended not to allow prisoners to simply leave of their own accord.

So he stepped in silence. Although, under normal circumstances, silence wouldn't have been enough. The Lords of the Saboath see all, hear all, sense all. As do all Lords. So how do you escape the notice of the all-knowing? You direct their focus elsewhere. And in a few minutes, after he'd worked his way down the stairs spiraling around the summit, he'd see the distraction for himself. His heart was already pounding in anticipation.

Eventually he reached the other side of the mountain, but what he found was quite different from what he'd expected.

He found the world coming undone.

Below him a ridge connected the peak Augur stood on to an even larger peak. Carved from the ridge, just as the castle was carved from the peak, was a beautiful city. Sandstone skyscrapers burst from the warm hues of the ridge. Larger than should be possible, their bright gold tones were highlighted by pale blue streams tumbling down leafy terraces. Skyways stretched out from the sloping edges of the ridge, adding height to an already towering city. And all across the city, humans and Lords alike looked up in horror at the sky.

The sky itself seemed to be caving in, bending out like a ceiling collapsing under a burden it could no longer hold. The entire horizon was mere moments from falling through and as it strained, gashes began to appear. Crossing from cloud to blue sky like they were one surface, the gashes seemed a failure of space itself. Just looking at them hurt the mind as it struggled to make sense of the image. Worst still was the sound. A gurgling distorted noise erupted from the ragged holes in the sky. Unsettling in it's perversion it was still unmistakable. Laughter. Manic cackling devoid of joy or reason.

Well, that's not ideal, Augur mentally mused to himself. That explains why I could feel it all the way in my cell. They're so out of control, I bet this three ring nightmare extends over the entire universe. No matter.

His comrades just needed a little something to knock them back to their senses. And Augur was more than willing to provide that. Up to this point he'd allowed this to continue. He'd allowed it to crash against his soul without response. No longer. His soul, so stoic a moment ago, awoke with a roar that shocked the magic that had just been assaulting it. Though he couldn't feel it beyond his brief point of contact, Augur knew the shock ripped through the magic, disrupting every piece of it, annihilating what little order it had. It tore itself apart, every fraction of it rebounding against every other fraction. And within a breath, it was gone.

The magic consuming the city, the sky, and all of existence was gone. Gone from rending the universe's very foundation to simply falling apart, ruptured in its entirety. Augur looked at the sky. Some distortions remained but nothing that couldn't be fixed. Space time was quite resilient. Still, he knew something else was coming. The last resort of a sorcerer denied their magic. Sorcerer's Barbs.

With a single leap he erupted from his place on the ledge, the powerful jump sending him flying through the air to exactly where he knew he needed to be.

Explosions sprang to life all across the larger, indestructible peak. They were wild and varied, each a different combination of light, sound, wind, and heat. His companion's Barbs, right on time. They rapidly grew in size and in an instant consumed the peak in a mismatch of chaotic energy.

A toothy smile spread across Augur's face as his pupils grew to dominate his eyes. He and the explosions bared down upon one another but he made no move to cover his face. Instead he twisted in the air, rapidly turning his body and extending a single arm ever so meticulously as he soared into the blast. For the briefest moment the explosion hurtled past him. Fires roared, electricity arced and crackled, and the whole world seemed to go white with light. But instead of harming him it drew him forward, passing around him and accelerating him through the inferno. Nearly unharmed, he extended a leg as he turned, knowing he would find ground past the blinding light. And he did.

Still surrounded by blinding white light, he could only feel it as his foot landed.  Throwing his hips and shoulder forward he collided with his still unseen companion, knocking him off his feet and halting the expanse of the Sorcerer's Barbs. The energy dissipated, revealing for the first time Augur's companion sprawled out on the ground in front of him. He didn't lie there alone however. Another man was spread across the ground, his bald head surrounded by clumps of his own hair, it apparently having all fallen out moments ago. Every bit of exposed skin was marbled black with necrotic flesh and his chest rose spectacularly as he huffed ragged breath after ragged breath. Augur wanted to rush to his side but before he could the man held up a hand.

. . . no, he eventually croaked. I'll . . . be . . . fine.

Nodding, Augur instead examined the man he'd just knocked down. There might be some bruising but nothing worse. Just what he'd intended.

Ugh, why? the man groaned as he came to.

Take a guess. I didn't hurt you too badly, did I? He knew he hadn't but it was good to ask.

Yeah, you did, but I'll rally, the man said as he rolled a shoulder.

Try not to lose your head this time, yeah? Augur grinned back before glancing at the minor burns on his own arms. The grin was replaced by a scowl. They were from the Barbs and had been avoidable, if only he had acted with a little more . . . dexterity.

As one companion continued huffing for air and the other began picking himself up with a frankly unnecessary amount of groaning, Augur examined his surroundings more closely. This was his first time on this particular summit but it was still familiar to him. He'd been to its twin after all. Meditated beneath its arch.

He stood atop a near perfect sheet of sandstone. Smooth as the finest glass, the surface was perfectly flat with one exception. In the center of the peak stood a sandstone arch. Nearly twice Augur's size and completely rounded there wasn't an edge anywhere on the structure. Impossibly smooth with two bases that widened like old oak trees, it seemed sturdy. Reliable. Steadfast.

Leaning over the side, Augur glanced off the edge of the mountain top. A blanket of clouds hid the ground from him but through wispy openings light flowed, bathing the peak in illumination before filling the empty expanse of blue above. No cloud or sun hung over his head. 

In the golden warmth of the peak, Augur couldn’t help but take the moment to smile at what was about to happen. He ran a hand through his brown hair as he mentally prepared himself for what was to come. Things weren’t going as planned. If he'd had his way the Saboath would have been on their side. One less enemy would have made things easier.

Oh well. He looked forward to the challenge, looked forward to the fights to come. In the end he'd get what he wanted. He wouldn’t stop until he did. After all, there was still so much work to be done.

Chapter 1

CRUNCH. A boy, Cole Ebner, bit down on a spoonful of cereal, not really tasting anything as he chewed absentmindedly. His sleepy eyes stared out the window, appreciating the as of yet unmarred layer of snow on the front lawn. He ate slowly, a product of the fact that it was six in the morning and he had only gotten to sleep four hours earlier. His eyes drifted to the clock on the wall only to snap to attention at what they saw.

Crap, I'm going to be late.

He shoveled the last of his breakfast into his mouth, drops of milk trickling down his chin as he ate as quickly as possible.

I can still make it, he thought, rushing through the rest of his morning preparations before bursting out the front door and immediately losing his footing on the icy steps. I can’t have missed it yet, he thought as he managed to right himself before smashing face first into the pavement. He ran down the slick street as fast as he dared and as he turned the corner, the bus stop came into view with no bus in sight. He smiled as he slowed to a walk, confident that he had made it before the bus. He reached the bus stop and waited. Seconds passed, then minutes.

Maybe I did miss it, he thought, frustration mounting. He gave it a few more minutes. Nothing. He began the walk back home.

Great, now I’m going to have to wake Mom and Dad up for a ride, he vented to himself.

Oh well, he thought. There’s nothing I can do about it now, might as well get it over with. And at least I’ve got tomorrow to look forward to.

With his enthusiasm already restored he took a swift step forward, only for his feet to fly out from under him, his arms to pinwheel through the air, and his bottom to thump painfully against the icy ground.

◊                              ◊

A block or so away a second boy was awaking to the sight of his mother standing in his doorway. He mumbled something incomprehensible without lifting his head. Even if the words were indecipherable the emotion behind them was clear. She said something in response to his grumblings but in his half awakened state he only caught every fourth word or so. Something about icy roads and school.

In the end, his half asleep mind simply didn’t care enough to dwell on it any further. Giving up his halfhearted attempts to remain awake, he drifted back to sleep. Two hours passed, and the boy began to stir. Ten minutes passed and he glanced at his clock. With dim surprise he realized the time. 10:22. He’d missed a good chunk of his morning classes already. He pulled himself out of bed quickly but seemed to lose motivation as he walked out the door at an increasingly slow pace. He noticed his mother sitting at the kitchen table.

Mom, why didn’t you wake me? he said in a voice that managed to be both whiny and indignant. His mother, looking up from her newspaper and, taking his minor dramatics in stride, reminded him of their earlier conversation.

I told you Brad, school is canceled today; the roads are too icy.

Oh, well, okay then, he said, this time in a tone of insincere dejection. He shuffled back to his room as his mother yelled after him.

Don’t forget you still have to pack for tomorrow. 

Unfortunately, her reminder fell on deaf ears as he collapsed onto his bed and drifted asleep once more. A few feet away from where he lay, his cell phone began to vibrate, its caller ID showing the name Elliot. It continued to vibrate for a few more minutes, its owner oblivious, before eventually giving up and falling still.

◊                              ◊

The caller, Elliot, put his phone back in his pocket with an exasperated sigh. He didn’t expect to get an answer but it would have been nice if at least one of his calls managed to get through. No one in the band had picked up.

I guess I can practice by myself, he thought. He walked to his garage and, passing several guitars, sat down at his drum kit. Without a plan, song, or beat in mind he began to bash. It was fast, loud, and wild; a one man jam session. On and on he played, never tiring but constantly boring as he endlessly mixed it up. Then, on a particularly strong strike, he smashed his knuckle on the rim of one of the drums.

Yah! he yelled as he stuck the bleeding knuckle into his mouth.

I gotta stop doing that, he thought as he examined the cut.

Newly bleeding and done goofing off, he tried something with a little more structure. Minutes later he grew bored with his drum kit and reached for the closest guitar. Like several of his other guitars, he had restored it himself and ever since it had become his favorite to play. He started to fish a guitar pick out of his pocket. He somehow always had a handful of the things on him at all times, but before he could get any further his phone began to vibrate.

Finally, he thought, as he pulled out his phone. With an exasperated sigh he realized that it wasn’t a band member calling him back, it was just Thomas. Not that it mattered. It was too late for them to practice now; he had to get ready for tomorrow. Shaking his head in resignation he answered the phone.

◊                              ◊

The phone conversion started and ended with a few words before the boy on the other line hung up. Everyone was too busy to do anything.

Thomas? his sister called from the other room. I’m ready for lunch.

Sure Cara, he said as he headed to the kitchen. He poked around the kitchen looking for something to make. Sorting through the cupboards the boy began rattling off suggestions to his sister.

Pasta?

No.

Chicken?

Nah.

Soup?

Nope.

Bagel pizza?

Sure.

Alright, he called back as he began prepping the ingredients and preheating the oven.

You excited about tomorrow? his sister asked as she walked in and started helping.

Uhh, yeah.

‘Uhh, yeah’, Thomas, it’s New York!

Yeah, he replied with a shrug. It was just a school trip, it’ll be fun but nothing life changing.

◊                              ◊

Meanwhile, several hundred miles away in that very city, a young woman named Maria was thinking just the opposite as she left the airport and climbed inside a cab. She gave the driver her destination, leaned back in her seat, and pulled out a few travel brochures from her pocket. She was on a work trip, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t have a little fun while she was here. She spent some time sorting through the brochure, trying to decide what to do first. She’d have to catch a show. She didn't care if it meant sneaking in, there was no way she could go to New York and not see Broadway. As she continued pondering ways to spend her free time, the car came to a stop. They had reached their destination.

She glanced out her window at the beautiful hotel she would be staying at for the next week. She had picked it out herself and had even paid for a not insignificant portion of the bill out of her own pocket. Her expense allowance for this trip was only so large, but she was not the type to squander an opportunity to sample the finer things in life.

She checked into her room (the penthouse suite of course) and examined what her hard earned money had bought her. Hot tub, balcony, massive living area with equally massive furniture, and a bedroom with a four poster bed that would have made a king sized bed feel inadequate. She was deciding what to try first when she heard a loud thud and a shatter.

Stepping in from the balcony she saw that her driver had managed to drop her largest suitcase and, judging by the sound of it, something had broken inside. She felt her temper begin to rise. She had important things in there. Things that weren't hers to break.

That idiot driver, she thought; what was he thinking, he better not have damaged Anjali's book. He glanced up from picking up her suitcase and immediately looked back down after seeing her face. People tended to do that when she got this way, and who could blame them? She was a sight to behold, or more accurately, a sight to be avoided at all costs. The blood rushing to her face dyed it a dark red, her knuckles were white with strain, and her jaw was clenched so tight she was in danger of chipping a tooth.

What was he thinking, she thought to herself. Or was he just not thinking at all? I’m going to throw him off the balcony. I'm going to clean the bathroom grout with his face. I'm going to-. And then she heard it, the familiar roaring in her ears she got every time she was about to snap.

Calm down, she told herself. It's just stuff, it's not worth getting worked up over. With great effort, she released her anger and managed to adopt a more relaxed posture. She shooed the driver away, insisting that she could clean up the mess. He didn’t require much convincing.

Well, he didn’t have to look so relieved about getting to leave, she thought peevishly as she shut the door behind him. At least she’d kept her temper under control; if Alice found out about her nearly losing her temper after only one day she’d find herself sharing her suite with Alice.

◊                              ◊

Unfortunately for her, at that moment Alice was discovering exactly how close to losing her temper she had come.

Well, she didn’t last very long, Alice replied into the receiver of her phone. She glanced at her watch and did some quick math in her head. I must say I’m surprised though.

You’re surprised? You were the one insisting that she couldn’t be trusted on a solo mission, the voice on the other end replied.

I’m not surprised with Maria, I’m surprised with you. She’s been gone for less than twenty-four hours and you’re already checking on her? Weren’t you the one who was so certain she could handle this?

I believe I said I was certain she should be given a chance, the voice argued pleasantly.

"Well, I am ready to leave as soon as possible. When is my flight?

It's supposed to be tomorrow.

Supposed to be?

There is going to be some inclement weather later in the day and it is going to be delayed. Sorry, I couldn't get you on one of the earlier flights.

Alright, she said with a sigh. Thank you, Anjali. Email me the details and I will be ready. 

A two day wait. She shook her head pushing the thoughts from her mind. She hadn’t come all the way back home to worry about things she couldn’t change.

Sorry about that, David, she said, kneeling to place the flowers she held at the base of the grave stone. Without the flowers to grasp her hands tightened into white knuckled fists. Tears slowly trickled down her stony face, tickling her skin in a mockery of the anger she restrained inside.

Save the anger, she told herself, as she knelt and touched the name on the headstone.

Her expression softened as a weak smile wormed its way loose.

Hey Davy, I've got a surprise for you, she said, her voice a shaky croak. A new magic trick. You always loved those. She removed a deck of cards from her pocket and fanned them out before the grave. Okay little brother, pick a card, any card, she whispered as she stared intently at the grave. Feeling the tears welling up again she picked one herself and continued the trick for her lost audience.

Chapter 2

Thomas walked through the airport, searching for his gate. He stepped quickly, his lanky frame lengthening his stride. Glancing at his ticket, he double checked his gate number. His face, pale and bony, seemed naturally accustomed to wearing glasses, as if it was made to support them. His brown hair was well combed and the zip up turtleneck he wore, one of many he owned, tried its best to hide a build that was best described as frighteningly skinny. In the past, he'd had to assure more than a few people that no, he did not, in fact, have an eating disorder.

Found it, he thought as he stepped towards a small group of high school students near a gate.  One of the students, Cole, called out a greeting to him as he approached.

Hey Thomas, you ready for New York! Cole was making no effort to mask the enthusiasm in his voice. Skinny but nowhere near as skinny as Thomas, a big smile split his face and his eyes were wide with excitement, an expression made all the more striking by how deep set they were. His short brown hair and large forehead gave his face plenty of space to express his gleeful energy. He was dressed plainly in jeans and a red t-shirt.

Yeah, I mean, I guess, Thomas replied with the same flatness he gave his sister when she asked the same question. He was excited about the trip but not as excited as everyone else. He just didn't think the trip was going to be the adventure everyone thought it would. Which was a shame. Thomas could use a good adventure

Oh come on, it’s New York, New York, the city so nice they named it twice. And if nothing else it gets us out of school for a week.

I know I'm excited to not go to literary comp for a week, Brad added as he approached them with a grin even larger than Cole’s. And since it's a school trip that makes it a learning experience too, he said, throwing up air quotes around learning experience.

He had a broad face topped by a tangled mass of brown blonde hair that transitioned seamlessly into short but no less tangled sideburns and a beard. His face was obscured by large glasses. In direct contrast to Cole's face, its crowded nature made him look older, an impression helped by his broader build.

It's got to be a better learning experience than Mrs. Ryan's regular classes, right? Elliot said as he dragged his suitcase towards them. He had longish blond hair, an ovalish face, and a largish nose. Thin and wiry, he looked every bit the runner he was and he walked with a faint rhythmic scamper, like he was unconsciously dancing to music only he could hear. Both he and Brad were wearing flannel and jeans although Elliot's jeans were of the skinny variety.

It certainly can't be worse, Cole answered evenly.

Yeah, in public she can't yell at us as loudly, Brad said with a smirk.

I'm sure she'll manage somehow, Brad, Elliot cheekily assured.

Their teacher, Mrs. Ryan, called for the students' attention, making sure they all knew boarding was about to begin. The students lined up, preparing to show their tickets to the flight attendant.

Hey, what’s everyone’s seat number? Mine’s 2B, Cole said as they lined up with the rest of their class.

You’re 2B? I’m 2A, Elliot said, holding up his own ticket.

Uhh, hang on, Brad said as he rummaged in his bag.  Look at that, 2C.

And I'm 2D, Thomas said with a smile as he glanced at his own ticket. A bit of luck to start their trip, he thought as they boarded.

Thomas shuffled down the aisle, searching for his seat. When he found it he started to place his backpack into the overhead compartment only to have it knocked out of his hands by another passenger pushing his way past.

Sorry, Thomas replied instinctively as he picked his bag up off the floor and put it in the compartment. He sat down in his seat next to his friends.

So does anyone want to play a game with me? Thomas asked pulling three separate handheld game systems from the various pockets in his jeans and sweater.

Oh, right here, Brad said, reaching for one of the systems.  Thanks Thomas.

Yep, anytime.

I’ve got my own, Cole said as he removed his own from his pocket.

Uh, why not? Pass one here, Elliot said after thinking about it for a brief moment.

Thomas, I’ll never understand why or how you buy so many systems and copies of the same game, Cole said, gesturing to the three handhelds he'd brought with him.

Ahh, well, the one Brad is using is limited edition and this one is— He was cut off as the plane’s captain came on the intercom and announced that they would be departing soon and that all electronics needed to be turned off.

Well that’s bad timing. Still, I’m glad we’re finally taking off, Cole said as he looked out the plane window with an energetic expression on his face.