Gabriel desperately sucked in
another breath of scalding hot air. If his throat hadn’t been so burnt then
he’d have taken the time to curse. As it stood now breathing out hurt almost as
much as breathing in, but at least he was still alive. He swore angrily in his
head, at himself, for taking the time to bemoan his situation rather than dodge
yet another explosion of fire and shrapnel.
The young wizard had dropped his
staff less than a minute into the battle when his opponent had started flinging
fire in every direction. His master had him up all week practicing kinetic
shields and mental wards, but somehow despite all the late nights they had
never got to redirecting fire.
Gabe tried to comfort himself with
the fact that this was only a mock battle. All he had to do was surrender and
the mad man would stop throwing fire and someone would drag him off the field.
This balm to his pride lasted only as long as it took for his master’s face to
appear in his head, once again scowling with disapproval.
“A wizard never surrenders. Magic is
fueled by willpower, the belief that the universe is meant to be the way you
want it to be. Surrender is admitting to the universe that it can roll right
over you. Besides, if he knocks you out the fight is over just the same.”
Being knocked out hadn’t seemed like
the worst alternative just a few minutes ago. Now Gabe wasn’t sure if he lost
consciousness if he would ever wake up again. At the very least he’d be
horribly burned. Surrender appeared to have a very big upside, but he wasn’t
about to let his master down without getting at least one shot in. Who knew,
maybe the fireball loving freak had a glass jaw.
Gabe’s staff was lying on the ground
less than twenty feet away, in the middle of a smoldering crater. The magically
enhanced wood hadn’t burned, but Gabe knew from experience that it would still
be hot to the touch. That didn’t matter now.
At a flat out run he could grab the
staff and roll behind a boulder before another fireball could be sent his way.
He’d just have to time it perfectly.
That was when Gabe noticed that his
robe was on fire.
Vessuvuss cackled as the younger
mage rolled across the ground, trying to avoid the fireball while also putting
out his burning robe. His master had told him to watch out for the apprentice
of Matthew Dayne, but this child just seemed pathetic. His master was probably
sitting in the crow right now chiding him for not finishing his opponent off rather
than enjoying the fiery show. But Vessuvuss had decided he was going to at
least enjoy the fight and suffer his master’s complaints later. At least this
way the crowd loved him.
Gabe slid behind another boulder. His
staff further away than before and his hand’s shiny red with a rising burn.
He’d managed to save most of his robe, but it probably would have made more
sense to just throw it off.
Plan A, grabbing the staff, didn’t seem
like an option any more. A weaker spell aimed perfectly was going to have to
make up Plan B. Gabe’s specialty was terra and kinetic magic. With enough time,
concentration, and usually a circle or focus he could literally move mountains,
or at least boulders like the one he was hidden behind. Without any of that he
would have to try to think outside the box.
“Hey, Vesuvius.” Gabe called out from
behind his rock. “What do you think about calling this a draw?”
“It’s Vessuvuss you worm.” The rival
apprentice nearly choked on his surprise at the impudent question.
“Whatever Vessy. We can both still walk
out of here with our head held high. No need for you to be embarrassed.” Gabe
coughed, only partially to stifle a laugh, the rest because of too much ash
floating in the air.
“Embarrassed. Hah.” A fake laugh. “It
will only be embarrassing if I accidentally kill you.” He was right. It was
considered shameful to kill you opponent in a match in the great arena. It
meant that the wizard didn’t have control of his abilities. That didn’t mean
that an opponent couldn’t be seriously hurt or maimed even.
“Look Vussy,” Gabe rhymed it with wussy,
“if we call a draw right now everyone will think you’re so chivalrous, not
kicking an enemy while he’s down. You’d look really good. For once.”
“My name,” Vessuvuss stretched out every
word, taking large breaths as he gather enough power to melt through the
boulder Gabe was hiding behind, “is Vessuvuss!”
The enraged apprentice let loose with
more energy than he’d used the entire fight. Gabe felt the wave of heat coming
even from the other side of his cover. It was how he knew exactly when to rush
out into the open, and when to duck and roll.
His timing was perfect. Vessuvuss’ blast
had exploded high against the boulder, boiling over the top and scourging the
area where he’d hidden. Gabe’s roll took him under the lower edge of the fire,
igniting his robe once more but getting him quite close to his opponent.
Gabe saw his opening and tried to shout
triumphantly but his throat wasn’t in a state to keep up with the rest of him. Instead
the apprentice let out a hacking cough as he thrust his hands up into the air
and then down again as he clasped them together.
With the upward thrust the layer of dust
and ash liberally coating the entire area exploded into the air, surprising an
momentarily obscuring the crowds vision. A casual observer might have thought
that had been Gabe’s plan, creating a smokescreen to buy a few moments. They
wouldn’t have felt the building energy of understood Gabe’s precise control of
the earth.
With the downward grasping gesture the
cloud seemed to flow as if it was made of water, not fine dust. The entire
shifting body surged toward Vessuvuss, surrounding his entire body and
completely covering his head. As Gabe squeezed his hands together the cloud
grew thicker, turning from gathered dust to a caked ball of ash trying to force
itself into Vessuvuss. Inside the roiling storm, Vessuvuss fought to keep his
lips pressed together and to regain his concentration. Still ash and dirt
forced their way into his mouth and the fiery apprentice lost all composure and
focus. He truly believed in that moment that he was about to suffocate and his
survival instincts overwhelmed any magical response he might have come up with.
Just a few feet from Gabe his opponent
dropped to his knees and began hacking, coughing, and spewing dirt. Gabe wasn’t
trying to kill the other young man and let the spell drop, the dust collapsing
into piles around the gagging man. His opponent may have been trying to keep
himself from vomiting but Gabe knew the fight hadn’t ended yet. Vessuvuss or
his master could have surrendered and the attendants would have removed the
dust in an instant. Gabe only took a second to look at Vessuvuss master’s
unforgiving face and knew that if he didn’t end the fight soon Vessuvuss might
suffocate.
Ignoring thoughts of his own master’s
response, Gabe decided to end the fight the quickest way he knew how. A
knockout blow. His arms had dropped to his sides, heavier than lead and from
the black spots floating in the corners of his eyes Gabe could tell that he
didn’t have enough left in him for another spell. If he wanted the fight to end
he’d have to do it the old fashioned way. Of mostly the old fashioned way
because it didn’t look like he was going to be able to use his hands.
Luckily Vessuvuss was already on his
hands and knees, trying to spit out a mouthful of ash. Somehow he still heard
or felt Gabe coming and lifted his tear and dirt stained face to regard his
opponent. Underneath the soot his face had turned a deep purple and Gabe could
tell he had over done it. The flourish at the end of his spell had forced the
ash not only into his opponents mouth but also down into his lungs. It wasn’t a
problem for the attendants to fix, they’d simply transform the carbon ash into
air, or some other neat procedure. Gabe could tell that Vessuvuss was willing
to suffocate, shaming Gabe and his master, before he would surrender, even to
save his own life.
Gabe let out a painful sigh, looked down
at the pitiable man prostrate before him, the defiant sad eyes, and kicked
Vessuvuss as hard as he could in the face.
The crowd gasped as Gabe’s foot
connected with the side of Vessuvuss’ head. The crowd may not have been used to
direct physical violence, but Master Dayne certainly had spent enough time
drilling Gabe on the precise way to kick someone in the side of the head.
Gabe’s ears started ringing just thinking about practice.
It took Gabe a couple more seconds for
Gabe to realize that noise was actually the cheering and clapping crowd. Gabe’s
world slowly came back into focus and he noticed the pair of attendants already
examining Vessuvuss. His opponent had been revived and was quickly having the
ash removed from his system. Gabe saw Vessuvuss’ master standing, avoiding
looking at the victor, and staring mournfully at his own apprentice. For a
moment Gabe expected the opposite reaction from Master Dayne, but when he
turned to look at his own master he was sorely disappointed.
Master Dayne hadn’t even risen to his
feet. His head was in his hands in an expression of shame. Gabe reeled like
he’d just received a blow to the gut. What had he done wrong? He’d used a
thrifty spell to incapacitate his opponent, he’d ended the fight quickly, and he
didn’t let Vessuvuss die. Gabe had been clearly out classed in terms of raw
power so he’d fallen back on a more roundabout strategy, exactly the kind of
thing they had spent months practicing. But even as Gabe watched, his master
stood up, ignoring the crowd settling into their seats as they waited for the
officials to announce the next round, and walked down the steps to an exit
ramp. All without ever taking a look at Gabe.
An attendant tapped Gabe on the
shoulder, gently congratulating the apprentice and gesturing toward the nearest
exit. Gabe stared at his master’s back so intently that the attended began to
ask if anything was wrong. The apprentice gave up, and dropped his gaze to his
feet, muttering “everything is fine, I won.”
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