The Wizard Duel

by Kevin Winters

study to a door on the western wall. It was a practice room, bare except for a barrel full of long scrolls meant for assistance with casting long rituals. Cecht closed the door, locked it, and sat cross-legged in the center of the room.

  He pulled the scroll tube from inside his robe, removed the scroll from it, and set it out in front of him. With a snap of his fingers it flattened, its sides no longer curling up. He read over the blue runes several times while twiddling with the ring on his finger. With his novice knowledge, he still had trouble making out some of the more obscure words but felt confident enough that he could learn something from the parchment. He pulled out a notebook from within his robes and opened it to a page with blue-glowing runes. They were the notes he had taken the first month he arrived in Caldea, notes on the ancient tongue, written in what little he knew of it.

  The hours passed slowly as Cecht went back and forth between notebook and scroll, gradually deciphering a word here and there until finally he had translated the first part. It discussed the structure of a dimensional spell and how a wizard could better mold it. If Cecht could master that section, he would be able to cast the spell in almost half the time it had first taken him, making it more practical for a fight in the arena. With that advantage, Cecht's victory and freedom would be within reach.

  With the needed knowledge, Cecht set about preparing the room for his practice. He walked along the wall of the room and trailed his hand along the masoned stone, uttering a spell that coated the walls with a translucent film of blue magic that looked and behaved like a small layer of water. The coating of magic would prevent any magical detection from reaching the room and keep the magic that Cecht worked on private. If he wanted to best Saccius he would need every advantage he could get, and advantages are best hidden.

  Cecht completed his circuit around the room when the film covered every wall as well as the ceiling and floor. Satisfied that he would be protected from any scrying, Cecht held up his hand, his palm facing out, and sent his magic flowing into the ring. Moments later the ring's opaque, oval wall of white light appeared before him and solidified until it was denser than stone.

  Cecht ceased his flow of magic going into the ring and the oval faded from existence. With a snap of his fingers, the flattened scroll levitated up from the floor. Its ascent stopped near his chest, at perfect reading level. He read through the passage slowly, and when finished, once more channeled magic into the ring. Again the oval wall of light formed, this time just a little faster as he applied the knowledge in the scroll. The scroll told of an ancient way of working magic within the body, a way that was not entirely foreign to a wizard these days, but different enough that Cecht needed to repeat the steps of forming the oval wall of light and then dropping it to reread the scroll several times before he made satisfactory progress.

  When he was truly satisfied with his progress on the first function of the ring, he started on the second. Cecht used the knowledge of the scroll and applied it to the formation of the pocket dimension. Again he repeated the steps numerous times until the time it took to form was greatly reduced.

  Finally, feeling like he had made significant progress with the ring, he sat back down and set it aside. He brought the floating scroll down and took his journal back out. Cecht once more began deciphering the scroll, this time working on the second passage, which led Cecht to believe that not only could he further hasten the casting of the ring’s spells, but change their size and shape as well.

  His work was more than halved this time; the translations he performed on the first passage helped tremendously with the second. After a quick circuit around the room to check the magical film and find no disturbances, he poured his magic into the ring once again, but with more control and variation. He alternated between a continuous flow of a constant amount of magic and short, stuttered bursts of varying amounts of magic. At first Cecht could only slightly change the size of the oval, but after long minutes of trial and error he began to change its shape from an oval to a square, then a circle, then a triangle, and then into many abstract shapes. He even managed to split the wall into two separate , smaller walls of equal size. After he had mastered the shape changing for the oval wall of light, he moved on to the ring's dimensional function.

  When he was finished with the ring’s second function he put the scroll back into the tube and tucked it, and the ring, safely inside his robe. He then walked around the room and dispelled the magical film covering the room's walls. The magical coating faded from the room with a hiss and Cecht turned to exit.

  Cecht stepped into the study and glanced out the window. The red sun indicated that the Master would be eating soon. He moved with haste out of the study's double doors and into the courtyard. A slight breeze brought dust and sand along with it and ruffled the bottom of Cecht's robes. The water from the fountain splashed as he walked around it to the other wing where he stepped through the double doors that lead to the kitchen. A few cooks and their assistants were in the midst of preparing the evening's feast when he came in. No one in the room said anything to him, but he felt eyes on him the entire time as he grabbed a plate and went around slopping the various dishes on it. He leaned against a table and ate in silence, watching the cooks work.

  Halfway through his meal, the doors leading to the rest of the estate burst open and Saccius rushed in, ordering the servants to bring the food to the dining room at once. The kitchen suddenly became very busy and Cecht moved out of the way into a corner. A shape blocked the light from a window and he looked up to see Saccius standing with his hands on his hips and snarl on his face.

  "Eating before the Master, and on your own? Your disrespect knows no bounds, worm," Saccius said. Cecht looked up at him with a piece of meat hanging from his mouth. "You are so ungrateful. I hope the Master flays you himself for skipping out on your chores today. If he doesn’t, know that I’ll certainly enjoy it."

  Cecht bit through the piece of meat and it fell to his plate with a wet slap. "The Master relieved me of my duties today, Saccius. Go bug someone else with your unbearable moaning."

  Saccius looked away in disgust. "Well you may get away with it this time, but you won't next time."

  "There won't be a next time. After tonight, I'm going home."

  "Ha. Our practices show that you're a long way behind me. I can turn you to ash with a single fireball."

  "Your fireball won't do you any good if it doesn't hit me. Face it, Saccius, you know your biggest weakness is your casting speed."

  "That’s because I understand that magic is an art, you slob. Ruffians like you who just throw spells every which way without any tact are no better than animals. Magic is delicate, and the casting should reflect the studying behind it. That's why mine is long and powerful, telling of my lengthy studies of the highest level tomes, while yours is erratic and uncouth, just like the farm boy you are."

  Cecht set down his empty plate. "My casting is practical. I know you've had a rather easy living here in the estate where magic was your hobby, but back home my casting had one purpose and one purpose only: to keep me and my family alive."

  "Easy living? I know very well the usefulness of magic in survival. I, too, had to use mine to protect myself and my younger brother when we were orphans. However I'm no longer an orphan and you're no longer living on the edge of civilization. It's time to step up to your station in life, Cecht. Show a little gratitude for what you have. There are many in this world that would kill for it."

  Cecht laughed inside. Those who would kill for such a lowly position were the ones who deserved where they were.

  "What station? I’m a slave and I certainly won't show any gratitude to the man who abducted me and forced me into servitude. No matter what luxuries he showers me with."

  "You truly disgust me, dog. What I wouldn't give for my brother to have been chosen instead of you."

  "You mean abducted."

  "I would not use such a word. The Master took me in under the grace of his wing."

  "He
gave you no choice and left your brother to die."

  "Should the Master go and adopt every orphan in Caldea, then? Trust me, Cecht, I would give anything in this world to have brought my brother with me, but just because he wasn’t, does not mean I shouldn’t be thankful that I was. The Master saved my life by taking me in."

  "I've heard enough of this," Cecht said, pushing past Saccius and heading toward the double doors out into the courtyard. He wasn't going to change Saccius' thoughts with arguments. He needed to show him. Maybe then he'd be obedient to Cecht instead of the Master. Exhaustion hung from Cecht's limbs and he headed for his room, and the lumpy mattress that passed for a bed.