Sufficiently Advanced Magic

by Andrew Rowe

  The voltaic charge was too fast for my eyes to follow, and it would have been far too fast for me to dodge. That was probably why Kent had chosen lightning. If Marissa was fighting based on dexterity, he had to choose something she couldn’t evade.

  Marissa punched the lightning.

  The crackling bolt deflected off her fist, flashing skyward and disappearing into the distance.

  By the time Kent had opened his eyes, Marissa had closed the distance.

  Her fist glowed brightly as she slammed it into Kent’s chest. The strike launched him back several feet and sent him tumbling to the ground. I winced — even with the barrier that had to hurt.

  Lord Teft clapped once. “And that concludes our match.”

  Marissa took a deep breath, shivering for just a moment, before returning to her chair.

  Two other students rushed to Kent’s side, helping him stand.

  I turned my gaze back toward Marissa, who was still breathing heavily in her chair, her forehead matted with sweat. My mind replayed the moment of her deflecting that blast of lightning.

  Interesting. She didn’t even use the cane. She’s charging her bare hands with mana.

  Lord Teft turned to address Kent. “That, Master Kent, is why an Elementalist should never willingly duel a Guardian without prior preparation.”

  The teacher turned to Roland next. “Your turn. Let’s see if you’ve learned anything, hm?”

  Roland stepped onto the stage, looking wary.

  The teacher gestured at the audience. “Who would you select to duel?”

  My former friend scanned the audience briefly before his eyes locked on me.

  Oh, for the goddess’ sake—

  “For me, Corin Cadence would be the ideal opponent.”

  Chapter VII — Duel

  Lord Teft gave Roland a toothy grin and turned toward me. His eyes widened briefly. “Is that... an Enchanting Attunement? Rhetorical question; of course it is. Why is an Enchanter in my dueling class?” He folded his arms. “That part was not a rhetorical question. Answer.”

  Is he messing with me? He checked my shield sigil. How is it he’s just noticing my attunement now?

  I stood up. “I intend to prepare a broad variety of enchanted items to assist with my dueling capabilities, sir.”

  “Enchanters are never successful duelists, Master Cadence, and even your family name won’t change that. You can go find another class.”

  I didn’t move.

  After a few moments of staring at me, he added, “I mean right now, Cadence.”

  I glanced around. Roland had an expression that looked almost apologetic, which was more emotion than I usually saw him display.

  Sera was clenching her jaw tightly. She looked like she was about ready to stand up and say something, but I didn’t want to rely on her to protect me here.

  My right hand tightened into a fist, but I tried not to sound as angry as I felt.

  I’d known that Enchanters would be looked down on by some; my father was clear enough proof of that. Valia had a militaristic culture, and I knew that attunements without direct combat applications were generally considered inferior. But somehow, I’d gotten the misconception that teachers would be impartial. That idealism being shattered this soon hit me harder than I would have expected. “I’d like to be given a fair chance to demonstrate that my plan will work, sir.”

  He shook his head, and then leaned against his cane. “Fine, fine. I’ll let you stay if you can last ten seconds.”

  I quirked an eyebrow. “Ten seconds?”

  “Ten.” He counted, raising his cane and pointing it at me. It wasn’t a dueling cane, but it was glowing.

  Oh, resh.

  I managed to rise and throw myself out of the way just before a globe of light appeared and exploded nearby. I caught a glance at the globe-shaped section that was missing from the bench where I had been sitting and quickly decided I didn’t feel like taking a direct hit, barrier or not.

  Most of the students around me froze. A few had the presence of mind to move, and one of them even screamed. None were being particularly helpful.

  I ran for the nearest isle, drawing my dueling cane as I moved. I didn’t have enough room to unsheathe my sword.

  I felt, rather than saw, the next globe appearing in front of me, and kicked myself backward. The blast caught another student and hurled him outside of the stands. I landed on my rear, barely managing to retain my grip on my cane, and turned to see the smirking teacher already pointing his cane toward me again.

  “Nine,” he said.

  That was a lot longer than one second, but he hadn’t been playing fair from the beginning.

  Fine. Screw fairness.

  “Roland, Sera, suppressing fire!”

  I shouted it, my voice commanding, but I didn’t expect it to accomplish anything aside from a distraction.

  As I rolled to my feet, I caught sight of Roland drawing both canes and opening fire on the teacher in an instant.

  Lord Teft spun, an incredulous expression on his face, and deflected both blasts with his cane. It was clearly some sort of magical focus — an ordinary cane would have shattered from the impact, and even a dueling cane couldn’t deflect projectiles without an active blade.

  Roland didn’t pause his assault, and as he continued to unleash his blasts, I heard Sera speaking in a clear tone.

  “Child of the goddess, I call upon your aid.

  Rain frost from the skies in a Permafrost Cascade!”

  The skies darkened as her words echoed in the air.

  Dozens of spears of ice manifested in the air above Lord Teft, hovering in place for an instant before descending with artillery force.

  Holy goddess.

  Teft stepped backward, dancing around the first spears as they impacted with the stage, and then waved a hand. A wall of flame manifested in between him and the spears, melting the remaining projectiles as they descended.

  I had no idea how she’d just pulled that off, but I wasn’t going to complain. While the students and teacher were distracted, I ran straight out of the stands toward the rest of the school.

  I’d barely cleared the isle when Lord Teft appeared in front of me.

  To my credit, I raised my cane quickly, even as questions raced through my mind.

  What? Did he just teleport? Or—

  Teft’s cane began to glow. I fired a blast from my own cane directly at it, connecting with the gathering energy, triggering an explosion that hurled the teacher back.

  He recovered almost instantly, shaking his cane in the air.

  “Eight,” he said menacingly, raising the cane again.

  You have got to be kidding me.

  The logical part of my mind told me to run in the face of such overwhelming opposition, but I was done running.

  Or, more accurately, I was done running away.

  I charged him, running my finger across the rune that triggered a blade to emerge from the cane.

  Behind me, near the stands, I could hear the sounds of more explosions, more combat. Distantly, I was aware that meant someone else was still fighting back there, but I didn’t have time to evaluate that in any detail.

  Teft seemed ready for the move, raising his cane into a high Verasian guard, as if he was holding a saber. Considering the magic I’d seen him perform, I had to assume that a strike from the cane that connected would be just as dangerous as a real sword would be, if not more so. I couldn’t afford to take a hit from that.

  When I was almost in reach, I pressed the button to charge the blade of my weapon, feeling a sharp pull as the mana slid through my hand. I threw it at him.

  Teft didn’t look surprised by the move, but he also didn’t avoid it completely. The blade glanced across the left side of his coat, revealing a hexagonal barrier that deflected it harmlessly to the ground.

  By the time he had recovered, I’d already drawn the sword from my belt. The cane had been a good ranged weapon, but it had poor melee reach. W
ith the sword, I could match his range, and I expected that the frost enchantments would lend it force.

  I smiled, assumed a Tyrian low dueling stance, and addressed the teacher. “Seven.”

  His eyes narrowed.

  I lunged.

  Teft deflected my strike to the left, then followed up with a sweep at my legs. A typical maneuver. I stepped forward and right, avoiding the swing, and kicked him in the leg.

  He stumbled back, some of the kinetic energy carrying through the shield. I swung the blade again, this time at a downward angle toward his chest.

  I never saw the explosion that hit me from behind.

  I was on my face a moment later, then rolling to my feet a moment after that, swinging my blade upward and deflecting a cane-swipe aimed at my head. The weapons rang as they met in the air, and I saw a hint of frost creep down the tip of his cane as I pressed against the swing.

  Frowning, Teft stepped backward, waving his cane in the air as if to warm it. The frost continued to creep up the weapon as I stood, resuming my previous combat stance.

  Teft waved a hand over the cane, bathing it in a burst of flame. The frost melted away, leaving a shimmering cloud in the air. “Interesting,” he mumbled, shaking his head.

  I lunged again, but he was ready this time. He sidestepped, slamming his cane into my left shoulder. My barrier kicked in and absorbed some of the impact, but I still felt a sharp surge of agony. Apparently, these defensive devices only offered partial protection.

  I staggered back at the blow, shaking my left hand in the air. “I think we’re at about negative fifty or so at this point.”

  “I’ll call it five.” Teft beckoned to me with his cane. “Unless you can’t continue, of course.”

  I shook my head. “I was really only worrying on your behalf. After all, it must be difficult to retain your concentration when you have so many things to distract you.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “And what do you mean by that, Cadence?”

  “Defend yourself; I’ll explain while our weapons talk.”

  I stepped forward, making a low swipe at his knees. He hopped over the slash, and then swung at my arm again. I parried this time, pressing against his cane, watching the vines of ice spread from my blade onto his weapon. I wasn’t certain if it was actually damaging his cane, but it certainly seemed to disturb my opponent, and that was enough.

  As I expected, he stepped away hastily, once again bathing his cane in flame.

  I struck again just as the flames dissipated. “I saw a second ‘invisible’ figure in the stands while you were talking earlier. You told Roland he was wrong, but his instincts were close to the mark.”

  “Four. You believe I have an accomplice of some kind? Or that I’m not Lord Teft, perhaps?” He deflected my strike, but again, I was able to step forward and kick him before he could react. The attack didn’t connect very hard, but he frowned and stepped back nonetheless. “Three.”

  “Not at all. The Teft I saw on the stage was easily able to dodge Sera’s spell and deflect Roland’s blasts — those were much faster than the kicks I’m landing right now. Or,” I said, “the trap you just stepped into.”

  I jabbed at him. He stepped back, as expected, and stumbled as he stepped right on top of the still-energized blade of my dueling cane. I saw his barrier crackle as the mana charged in the weapon lashed against it.

  He stepped to the side and kicked the cane’s hilt, sending it flying at me, but I was able to easily step out of the way. “You’re slower here because you’re dividing your attention. One of you is a projection. A simulacrum. And that,” I concluded, sidestepping and making a vicious lunge at his chest, “is why you’re too slow to win.”

  He caught my blade in his hand.

  “Two. You’re right and wrong, Corin.” He slammed his cane into my chest, knocking me back, and I lost my grip on my weapon as I fell backward. Dropping my blade, he followed me as I recoiled, putting his cane on my neck. “I am a simulacrum, but I’m not slower than the real Teft. I’m autonomous.” His eyes gleamed. “I was letting you hit me.”

  I grabbed his cane with my left hand, but my grip was still weak from his earlier strike, and he quickly pulled it out of my grasp.

  “Do you have any other insights to share before we end this?” He raised his cane, a crimson glow forming around the weapon.

  I gave him the most serious look I could muster. “Just one. No, zero, actually.”

  He rolled his eyes, pulling the cane away and lowering it to the ground. “Yes, yes, you’ve lasted your ten seconds. Very well, Corin Cadence. I suppose you can stay.”

  “Thanks, magical construct.”

  Teft shook his head. “Don’t get too snide, boy. You’re the one who just got beaten by a fake.”

  And with that, the duplicate Teft vanished, and I picked up my weapons to rejoin the class.

  ***

  The real Teft was wearing a cocky expression, leaning against his cane, when I made it back to where I’d been sitting. Which was, of course, still ruined.

  I chose to stand rather than sit in the crater.

  Sera and Roland were still standing, too. Roland had returned to where he’d originally been seated.

  Lord Teft made a dismissive wave with his left hand. “You can be seated now, children.”

  I folded my arms, glanced at the destroyed spot, and then back to him. Sera and Roland sat down, though.

  “Close enough. Interesting tactic, Master Cadence, and admittedly not one I would have anticipated. Obviously, calling in outside help would be illegal in a duel, but I didn’t say it was a duel, so I won’t penalize you for it. Your performance was adequate.” He glanced at Sera and Roland. “And the loyalty of your friends somewhat surprising. I could have them expelled for attacking a teacher without permission.”

  Roland bristled at that comment, but Teft continued talking. “This is, in fact, why they will be rewarded. In a battle, that sort of unflinching loyalty is a rare and valuable resource. Of course, you’ll need to ensure that you’re being loyal to the right people. Ten points to the two students who responded to Master Cadence’s call. Fifteen for the other gentleman,” he looked at Patrick, “who assisted them without Master Cadence’s prompting.”

  Patrick joined the fight? I hadn’t seen that happen; it must have been while I was outside of the class area fighting the double.

  I felt a moment of guilt for not including Patrick when I’d called for help. Still, I hadn’t known what his capabilities were, or that he would have helped. It seemed I’d underestimated him.

  I looked at Patrick and sent him a gesture of thanks. He nodded in reply.

  Teft continued speaking, beginning to pace around the stage. “I suppose most of you were focusing on the show on the stage. I’d like a student who wasn’t involved in that little contest to summarize for the other students what happened to Master Cadence after he fled the stands. Anyone?”

  Kent stood up.

  “My, volunteering again, Master Kent? Very well, explain.”

  Kent stood, gesturing to the area where I’d been fighting. “He was fightin’ a copy of you over there. A simulacrum, I think... one of the Shaper spells?”

  The teacher nodded. “Close enough. Simulacra will be the subject of today’s lesson.”

  I raised an eyebrow at that. Given Teft’s behavior, I wasn’t aware this “class” was going to have lessons.

  Teft paused his pacing, coming to the center of the stage. “A simulacrum is a copy of a living being that is constructed from mana. As Master Kent pointed out, creating a simulacrum is one of the most advanced abilities of the Shaper Attunement. While Shapers are typically associated with creating and controlling spectral weapons, armor, and other objects, the simulacrum spell is far more versatile. It will be many years before any of you is capable of constructing one, of course, but you should be aware of their existence for three main reasons. Would anyone like to speculate on these reasons? Not you, Master Kent.”
/>   I was already standing, so I simply raised a hand.

  “Oh, sure, let’s have you give it a try, Master Cadence.”

  I lowered my hand. “They’re legal in virtually all forms of duels, and the flexibility they provide makes Shapers the most dominant attunement in most of these scenarios.”

  “Close enough. What about the other two reasons?”

  I scratched my chin. “You said earlier that perception was important. You were deliberately misleading us so that we didn’t notice the simulacrum.”

  “An accurate assessment, but not related to the question I’m asking. We’ll call that one out of three. Anyone else?”

  A student I didn’t recognize stood up. He was dark skinned, heavyset, and wore thick spectacles.

  “You,” Lord Teft gestured at the student. “Ah, an actual Shaper wants to answer a question about Shapers. Miracle of miracles. I don’t recognize you. Give me your name and answer.”

  “Matthew Kord, sir. And, uh, I think what you’re looking for, or one of the things, is that, um, monsters in the towers are usually simulacra?”

  “Good, good. Not precisely accurate, but close enough to count.”

  I was taken a bit aback. I’d never heard anything like that.

  Teft continued his explanation. “Ever wonder why monsters in the tower vanish when slain, often leaving behind crystalline mana? And how there always seem to be more monsters, regardless of how many climbers go through the tower? That’s because they are not, for the most part, actually monsters at all — not in the conventional sense. Modern studies have concluded that the majority of monsters encountered in the towers are mana constructs. They’re not exactly simulacra, in that we don’t believe they’re copies of a single core monster that’s actually alive somewhere. Probably. They are, however, functionally similar.”

  He paused for a breath, and then continued. “This is part of your first lesson because I want you to understand the significance of it. Simulacrum spells, when utilized to the highest degree of efficiency, can populate something on the scale of an entire tower with duplicates. The military applications of this are obvious, but consider how it could be utilized to improve society if we could harness the same source of mana that the towers themselves utilize. Mana constructs could be used to replace virtually all labor. This is, for many Shapers, something of a goal.”