The Sigilist: Root Words: A LitRPG Fantasy Adventure Read online

  Table of Contents

  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

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Epilogue

  The Sigilist

  Book 2: Root Words

  by Andrew Karevik

  The Sigilist: Book 2

  Copyright © 2020 LitRPG Freaks

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission from the author.

  Chapter 1

  The crane groaned as the massive treadwheels rotated, lifting the block high in the air. The operating team carefully worked to ensure this curious construction device was able to properly place the load atop another block of stone, adding the fourth layer to my tower. Slowly, but surely, my new abode was coming into existence. A tower to call my home. A tower befitting a wizard of my status.

  So much had changed in the last few months of my life. I had gone from being a simple tavern owner to a full-fledged wizard in the blink of an eye. And even faster than I could realize, I was drawn into a deadly and dangerous game against a powerful foe. A game that would shape the fate of Hiyath as a whole.

  The Sorcerer King had challenged me to a duel of sorts. Well, perhaps more like a chess game than a straight up duel. For this was no contest of strength. If that were the case, he’d have annihilated me with the snap of his fingers and then gone on his merry way. But no, apparently there were rules that he had to play by. Rules that gave the rest of the world a chance to stand against him. While I was unsure of his exact plans for the people, I knew that he would not make a good ruler. Cruelty, dark magics and enslavement were his methods of operation. And those traits rarely made for a benevolent king.

  “Staring at it won’t make it finish any faster,” Babbette said as she patted me on the shoulder. “We’ve a journey to prepare for.”

  I turned my attention to my dear friend and dilettante, Babbette. She was adorned in the finest of clothes that a woman of her status could afford—a luxurious red and white dress, with silver bangles running down both arms. She smelled of lavender and honey. Such perfume in small doses was tolerable, but Babbette was not the kind to apply small doses.

  “There’s a lot of opportunity to be had with a tower,” I replied, not taking my eyes off of the construction. By order of the Regionary, Lady Gwyn Highlen, 20 acres of land had been designated as property of her court magician. This land was atop the tallest hill in Highlen, right outside of the Feyborn Woods. Once it was finished, I would have a real base of operations to begin planning my moves against the Sorcerer King. A place that I could ward with all sorts of protections and charms, to ensure that my enemies could not spy upon me. A place where other wizards would know to send their servants, to curry my favor.

  “But a lot of work to be done before we settle down in there,” Babbette said, gently squeezing my shoulder. “Are you ready? The caravan is prepared for the journey.”

  I nodded, still staring at the construction of the tower. There truly was a lot to do before I could rest on my laurels within my own private sanctum. For Lady Gwyn had high ambitions of her own, to ascend to the throne of Aever and declare herself queen. Such an ambition was secret, for now, revealed only to me, her court magician. But while many other politicians, lords or ladies might seek to elevate themselves for selfish gain, Gwyn’s biggest concern was the same as mine. The unchecked growth of the Sorcerer King’s influence.

  Already we had learned that several regions within Aever were considering joining the Sorcerer King’s side, or worse yet, had pledged their allegiance. He was willing to use whatever dark powers it would take to convince them to join. And Aever’s own king, Tagen the Sleepy—as he was called—was not one to actively manage the region. He was a product of his time, I suppose. For Aever’s political traditions, careful constitution regarding the power of both Regionaries and Kings and the immense size of the country had given us a very peaceful time period. A period lasting more than a hundred years.

  Tagen’s father had known only a single war, a small insurrection that was put down quickly enough, but Tagen himself? Knew only peace. And so content was he to simply enjoy the luxuries of the castle and the title, reaping the fruits of trees planted long ago by his ancestors, he had done nothing to stop the Sorcerer King’s ascent. And there was no sign that he would oppose such a powerful force.

  Indeed, if Gwyn had received word from the king that all Regionaries should unite and stand firm, she would not be in the position she was in now. But no words came from the Throne. The Sleeping King was complacent. And Aever would fall into the hands of a powerful monster soon enough. So together, she and I made a secret pledge. I would support her ascent to the Throne, to take control of Aever as a whole, and she in turn would support my opposition of the Sorcerer King. Together, we would stand against this powerful entity. Together we would destroy the Sorcerer King and his allies, bringing peace back to not just Aever but to all of Hiyath.

  “Let’s go, if everything’s ready,” I said, turning to face the long stretch of wagons that had assembled on the road. Banners of Lady Highlen were everywhere, the signature green chrysanthemum pattern easy to spot from a mile away. Dozens of guards, merchants and dignitaries were sitting in these wagons, eagerly awaiting our trip.

  “It is,” Babbette said with a sigh. “Ardor’s a far place…you sure we’re going to find what you’re looking for?”

  “Your guess is as good as mine,” I replied, making my way to the caravan. “But I’ve got no other choice than to go. This mission is of the utmost importance.”

  “Well, let’s hope it’s worth the travel time. Four months is a long time to be away from home…longer than I’ve ever been,” she whispered. I glanced at her to see that she was indeed worried about what we would face in Ardor. Though the country was considered to be our brother nation, a place full of citizens who regarded Aevarians as their own kin…neither of us had ever been in that desert land. What would it be like? What faced us? And more importantly, would I find what I was looking for? Only the Goddess knows, I suppose.

  Chapter 2

  “It’s damn hot,” Redgar grumbled as our caravan continued onward, towards the far-off city of Yinta. I was sitting beside the man at the front of the wagon train, keeping an eye out for any kinds of danger. The Ardorian border was safe, but once we crossed into the desert territories, all bets were off. Bandits were a big issue in the Sandshift Desert, for they were well orga
nized.

  Rumor had it that long ago, a military force serving some unknown king, had grown weary of serving and never gaining anything of value. They broke off from their masters and retreated to the desert, where they began to plunder without mercy. Worst of all, these hardened military men maintained their own ranks and organization. While Highlen’s bandits were toothless yokels who were too stupid or lazy to work an honest job, the vast Sandshift Desert was home to bandits of ruthless efficiency. And those bandits were the reason why I was accompanying this caravan on their mission.

  “You keep mentioning the heat as if it were to make things cooler,” I said, staring upwards at the clear sky. The burning sun had nothing to stop it today and the air was so dry, it was like being baked alive. A miserable experience.

  “I’m hinting to you, the mighty wizard, to cast some kind of spell. Conjure a breeze at the least. Or better yet, turn my skin to ice until we arrive,” the diplomat replied. “Anything to beat this wretched heat.”

  “You could not afford my services,” I said, conveniently leaving out the fact that I had none of the powers he spoke about. After my victory over the Sorcerer King, having destroyed a portal to the Necro Mundis and restored life to the crops within Highlen, everyone regarded me as a master wizard. I didn’t bother to correct them, but such a notion couldn’t be farther from the truth. In fact, the only reason I was interested in diving deep into the desert land of Ardor, was to find a tutor who could train me in the ways of magic.

  “Bah, a bluff if I’ve ever heard one,” Redgar whined. “If you had the power, you would have done so by now.”

  “Or perhaps I merely enjoy the sounds of your suffering,” I replied with a laugh. The wind began to pick up a little, but it was a hot wind, carrying burning air that did nothing to alleviate our condition.

  “In the distance!” shouted an outrider as he came running back, his horse galloping at full speed. Torleck was our scout, meant to ride ahead and keep an eye out for danger. The expression of fear on his face was all we needed to know.

  “Halt the caravan!” Redgar shouted as he leapt up, his voice strong and commanding. Though he complained incessantly on the journey, when it came time to command, he spoke with both strength and conviction. “Ready the soldiers. Wizard, you’re up. Go.”

  I didn’t appreciate being called Wizard, or being ordered so directly, but…in truth I was a subordinate here. Redgar was a diplomat and ambassador, representing Lady Gwyn herself. He had the full authority of Highlen behind him. More importantly, he reported everything back to his Lady after this expedition was over. My attitude would be noted. And…while we were nothing more than associates with serious goals right now, it was in my heart to find a way to win Lady Gwyn over to me. She needed to know I had the humility to accept the authority of others.

  “Aye,” I said, hopping off the wagon and walking across the road. My loyal bodyguard, Alisha, who had been napping in the back of our wagon, was quick to climb out and follow after me. Spear raised high, she saluted me, but said nary a word. The woman was not given much to idle chatter and after hearing Redgar complain about the temperature for the last twelve hours, I didn’t mind her silence.

  The cruel sun seemed to be more of a threat than any bandits ahead. It burned relentlessly and walking became a miserable task. At some point, I had ceased sweating and I knew that couldn’t be a good sign. But there was no time to stop and rest in the shade. I had enemy forces to handle.

  Just as the scout had said, there was trouble ahead. Standing on the main road were sixteen horsemen, spears at the ready. On the dunes surrounding the hills were thirty or so archers. A single man, wearing golden armor, stood at the front of these forces, longsword resting against his shoulder as he idly stood by. He was tall, with long black hair and a relatively young, fresh face. He seemed to have not a concern in the world. Of course, with a force this well organized, I would be standing there smiling too.

  “Are you here to parley?” the commander shouted. “We ask a fair share of whatever is being transported. Half of all goods, a fourth of all gold. That is a tax for navigating our territory. Pay it and we shall be pleased to let you go on your way.”

  “You make a reasonable demand of us, commander…” I said, trailing off, waiting for his name.

  “I am Sampson Leigh,” the commander replied, making a half bow towards me. “Second commander in the Sandshift Corp.”

  “A pleasure, Lance Rein,” I said, returning the bow. “An emissary who represents Lady Highlen of Aever.”

  “Ah! A Lady’s caravan, even better!” Sampson said, rubbing his hands together eagerly. A few of the horsemen chuckled and patted one another on the back, gleeful to have a good haul for once. “If the Lady has any precious cargo she deems of value, we will not take it,” he said. “We are reasonable men, the Sandshift Corp. We just want what is due.”

  “These are not your lands,” I said. “But lands owned by The Commerce Syndicate. You are not authorized to take taxes. We owe you nothing.”

  “Come now, Lance,” the second commander said with a smile. “We wouldn’t want to resort to rough man tactics, now would we? You were well counted before you arrived to this place. We know you have but eight soldiers. A scant amount compared to our forces.”

  “You know all about us then?” I asked. I glanced at Alisha, who quietly nodded, readying for what was to come.

  “Aye,” Sampson said. “Enough to know you have no chance. So, let us not resort to violence. Our taxes are fair. We could, in theory, take everything, but then that would kill the goose that lays the golden egg. Instead, we prefer to be civil.”

  “As do I,” I said, stretching out a hand towards him. My fingers moved in a blur, forming the ancient symbols of the sigil for Force. Force! Other! Lift! These were the signs of the Fargrasp spell, a simple spell that I had used many times before. At once, arcane power surged from my hands and wrapped around the enemy commander’s body.

  “Help!” Sampson shouted as he was jerked into the air like a ragdoll. His sword clattered to the ground and all eyes were now on the man who was floating several feet above the earth. There was some strain from the weight of his gear, but I was well rested. I could lift him higher if I wanted.

  “Did you account for this?” I asked, continuing to elevate the man higher and higher, lifting him nearly ten feet above the ground. I slowly rotated him in midair, a difficult task, but I was able to get him upside down. Dropping him would be rather painful, I think.

  “Sorcerer!” one of the men shouted.

  “No!” I corrected. “I am a Wizard. A powerful one as well. Now, with the snap of a finger, I may take this man’s life. Are you prepared to face one such as I?”

  “Hold,” Sampson said, as bows began to take aim towards me. Gone was the man’s confidence and bravado, replaced instead with a trembling fear—fear that I would drop him at any time. Fear that he had grossly underestimated his opponent. “Friend wizard…I did not mean to offend.”

  “Of course not,” I said, gently lowering him down to the ground. The radical change in tone was enough to satisfy me. Though Alisha kept her spear up.

  “I don’t buy it,” she whispered. “Don’t be so accepting of his position.”

  I held a hand up to stay my companion. “Do we have an understanding now, Sampson?”

  The soldier shrugged helplessly. “Sir…I do apologize, but I am not one who can back down from his duties. I truly did not mean to offend you, but at the same time, we must take what is by rights ours.”

  “Do you have the power to face a wizard in his prime?” I asked, preparing a quick shield spell to cover me and my guard from the arrow storm that was sure to come our way.

  “We have a wizard of our own,” Sampson quietly whispered. He was not thundering this out in wild braggadocio, but spoke with a reservation, as if afraid to even bring it up. “And we could call upon her to settle this matter. But…she is powerful and dislikes bei
ng disturbed. Perhaps we only take a fourth of your gold then? A token of our respect for your power.”

  This was a tempting offer, for while I talked a big game, I was unsure of my enemy’s true numbers. But then again, meeting a fellow wizard? Perhaps she would know of what I was seeking out here.

  “Call upon your wizard then,” I said. “And allow us to settle the matter between ourselves.”

  Sampson grimaced. But he seemed to know better than to get involved in such an affair. “I merely wish you to state to her…if you will, friend wizard, that you called upon her, not me.”

  “Aye, that I can do,” I said. “For you have been fair in your dealings with me.” Well, as fair as brigands could be, I suppose. But…there was something to be said about the way these men conducted themselves. Perhaps they could be persuaded, at a later time, to join us in our campaign against King Tagen as mercenaries. Wouldn’t Gwyn be pleased to see me return with not only our diplomatic mission achieved, but a small army in tow?

  Chapter 3

  The sun continued its merciless assault on the desert, rising higher and higher, beating down with relentless force. I stood before thirty armed soldiers who were growing impatient with their commander’s decision. They barely lowered their voices, grumbling about how it would be easier to just skewer me than wait for Mizendra. But despite their fussing, they were not about to defy their commanding officer.

  “We should have taken the deal,” Alisha whispered to me, leaning against her spear. “A fourth of our gold isn’t bad. And we’d be safe all the way to the city.”

  “I’ve business with the wizard, of a personal nature,” I replied. “Their generosity notwithstanding, Mizendra might have something I need.”

  “Or she might melt you to the ground where you stand. And me alongside you,” Alisha replied, shaking her head. “Though that might be a mercy, compared to standing out in this heat much longer.”

  “We’ll be fine,” I said. Wizards had rules. Sacred oaths that kept them from slaying one another. Mizendra had no way to directly harm me, nor I her. Provided she truly was a wizard, that is. It was possible she was a servant of the Sorcerer King, hiding her position. I would need to tread carefully in dealing with her.