A Wizard's Tale

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A Wizard's Tale Page 4

by Natasha Weber

young-adult life. He described it as… having to step into the world as if he were but a child again. This time, however, he did not have the guidance of an elder,”

  “Then the older Pixie and me have a lot in common,” I said sadly.

  He gave me a sympathetic look. “Don’t look so down. I will help you become familiar with this world. Since you already know about the Elves and Dwarves, you know what to stay away from. Therefore, you’re already half-way there.”

 

  He took me to see a nearby gathering of rocks outside his village. He climbed them effortlessly, obviously adept from many years of practice.

  “Your turn!” He called from up high.

  My wings shot out and I flew up to where he was; climbing the rocks in half the time he did.

  “No fair! You didn’t actually climb them…” he muttered. “I keep forgetting you have those wings, why do you put them away and show them so little?”

  “They get in the way?” I said with a shrug.

  “If I had something that pretty, I would be using it to cheer myself up.” He said wistfully. “But knowing you, and what a drag you are, it makes sense you wouldn’t like them out.”

  “You think I’m a drag?” I laughed.

  “Frankly, yes. I’ve met two Pixies before, and both of them were really salt of the earth types. Overly friendly, talkative, just a joy to be--oh my God.”

  “What?” I asked.

  He pointed, and I followed his gaze. There was a procession of Dwarves standing right nearby, discussing battle-plans of sorts.

  Pan lay flat on his belly. He grabbed my sleeve and hauled me down next to him. I was about to say something, but he covered my mouth with a hand. “Shh,” he murmured.

  I lay absolutely still next to him for about another half-hour. Then, the Dwarves began moving onwards.

  Uncomfortable, I adjusted my cramped arm and moved it out from under my belly.

  I let out a gasp as I accidentally knocked a tiny rock off of our perch. The Dwarves immediately looked up.

  “Spies!” They exclaimed.

  Pan scrambled to his feet, looking for a way we might escape. Simply put, however, there were two of us and about thirty of them. Escape would be hard to grasp. “Um, ah… well, you can fly, can’t you?”

  “Yes, but they have arrows. Best go down and explain the situation to them.” I said, beginning to climb down.

  He grabbed my arm and pulled me back up. “Are you crazy? They’ll sentence you to death in their coliseum, where they take all spies!”

  “Well, what do you suggest?” I said, biting my lip.

  “Well… you know some magic, don’t you? Anima?” He said hopefully.

  “Yes, but I’m not that good. I think I’d just make them angrier.”

  While we were hastily having this discussion, they had already begun climbing. I was fighting the urge to bolt down the backside of the rocks we climbed up, and run back to the village. It was better, I thought, to live a little longer and brave whatever the coliseum was than to run and have them shoot us down. Pan must have been thinking the same, because he wasn’t moving.

  “So… you just let them take you, then?” Mr. Serious was doubtful. “That doesn’t sound like you at all.”

  “No, it doesn’t. But I was a different person back then. I was not the same, lovable, amazing Pixie you see today. Like I said, I was pathetic. I let people push me around like that all the time before… I was a mess.”

 

  “You were sensible. You would have died if you took a different course of action.” He commented, thoughtfully sticking his fingers in the pool in front of him and waving them around.

  “Maybe. Or maybe if I had just tried a spell we would have gotten away unscathed. But I was so self-depreciating I felt I couldn’t even have tried. Even though now… I’m almost certain I could have conjured something up to save us.”

  “You didn’t know as much about Anima as you do now,” he stated. “You couldn’t have been sure it would work,”

  I shrugged. “It was still worth a shot. Anyhow. After that, Pan and I were taken. Strangely, they released Pan when he described to them that we were just playing… I, however, was not so lucky.”

  “The Human,” the Dwarf leader said, “seems to be innocent. Elves generally do not use Humans to spy--with the exclusion of that one before. They have Pixies in abundance, however. I think the Human probably has no idea of the Pixie’s intentions, he’s definitely too young to be a spy. But with Pixies, it’s too hard to tell their age. At any rate, let the Human go.”

  “Wait,” Pan protested. “The Pixie is only a few years older. He has no idea what you’re talking about. I’d stake my life on his innocence…”

  “If he survives the Games he will be set free.” He said, ignoring Pan as his Dwarf minions dragged the Human away.

  “Am I not even allowed to prove my innocence?” I asked, every bone in my body trembling.

  “You will be proved innocent if you survive.” He said, waving his guards away.

  “That’s hardly fair,” I complained, but the Dwarves were already grabbing my arms and dragging me away.

 

  As they dragged me, I got a good view of my surroundings. They were carrying me down a set of spiral-stairs. A brightly lit stone castle far bigger than any sort of house I had ever laid eyes on. Aside from bright lights, it was rather cold and blank. Nothing adorned the walls, and nothing stood out.

  I screwed my eyes shut. I didn’t want to see where they were taking me. But then I realized I had to escape, and my eyes snapped open. My mind was on fire with emotions, I tried to control them, tried to find that intense, emotionless concentration that I had not fallen into for years. At first, nothing would come; I became frustrated, as I had before—the feelings of resentment and flaming hatred clouding my mind—and then I saw the marks on my wrists, and became all the angrier. All those years I had spent not feeling a single thing… I knew, just then, that I would not be able to cast a single spell, and if I did, I might light both me and them on fire.

  I struggled vainly; Pixies are not known for their strength. Especially in comparison to Dwarves.

  Eventually, they came to the bottom of the castle and took a sharp right through some large double-doors. Through these doors, was a circular shaped arena with stands of Dwarves watching above in high-stands cheering. It was absolutely gigantic, and the sand below my shoeless feet was rough.

  “Choose a weapon or shield on that table over there,” the Dwarf said, shoving me into the arena and then leaving through the door we came in.

  My bones were aching with fear. I was not a warrior. I was barely a mage. But my mind became clear, as a mind often does when it has accepted its fear and has learned there is only one way out of a situation.

  I walked over to the weapons table on my right. I thought about it. Weapon, or shield? It didn’t take much thought. A shield could be used as both a weapon and shield. Unfortunately, however, this particular kite shield was about my size and I could barely lift it. But apparently, once you lay a hand on your weapon, the Dwarves don’t let you go back.

 

  From the other side of the arena, a Dwarf entered. I assumed he must be a criminal, like I was. Er, or what they thought I was. I grabbed the shield off the table, and then collapsed with it on top of me. Heavy.

  The crowd erupted with laughter. I went red with embarrassment, and then pushed the shield off of me. I got to my feet, and now knowing just how heavy the shield was, used what strength was needed to heft it to protect myself.

  My adversary, the Dwarf, was picking his weapon. A particularly nasty-looking ball-and-chain. I cringed inwardly.

  He was a giant fellow, this Dwarf. Not length-wise (in which he was the same height as myself), but width-wise. Indeed, he was absolutely gigantic. He had muscles the size of mountains and a cruel face with a giant scar running across his forehead to his chin. And very cold
blue eyes.

  He approached slowly, swinging the ball-and-chain high above his head. I watched him with my mouth hanging open like a drooling idiot. He finally got close enough, and hurled the spiked ball at me. I ducked behind the awkward kite shield, nearly getting pinned under it again.

  The crowd gave a surprised ohh, not expecting me to last longer than the first swing this Dwarf took at me.

  I got to my feet, my strength draining from holding the kite shield. Before I could even block this time, he had thrown the spiked ball at me again, this time from the side, where the shield did not protect.

  For a bulky weapon, it came fast, I screwed my eyes shut, hearing the whush right next to my ear. I threw my hands up. The crowd was silent with anticipation; I was expecting to feel hot blood gushing down my side soon—

  This time, the crowd gave another genuinely shocked ohh of surprise. Because, I was not dead as I expected to be.

 

  I opened one eye. The spiked ball was lying right next to my side—the criminal Dwarf looking shocked.

  In the last moment, I had thrown up a red wall of Anima magic, and the spiked ball bounced right off of it. I was surprised at myself. My confidence gained.

  Now that I thought I stood a chance, I started thinking of ways to win the battle. I decided in order to win, I would have to use speed.

  I threw down the heavy shield, and I dissipated my red Anima shield. The Dwarf recovered from his shock and was winding up for another blow. I looked around at the circular arena, and an idea formed in my mind. The arena was made of

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