Chapter 14

Az drew in a ragged breath as he tried to think of his next move. His opponent matched his steps, the two students stalking a circle around the dueling ring. The pair of boys had been trading blows back and forth for what felt like an eternity in Az’s mind, though it had likely only been a handful of minutes since Ms. Lare had called a start to the duel. The school-issued enchanted bracelet that generated a field of protective mana like a second skin over his body was beginning to fail and his nexus had dimmed significantly in his mind’s eye. This match would be over soon, brought to a stop as soon as either boy’s shield bracelet finally broke, though Az could not yet say if it would be him walking away victorious. His opponent was not somebody he had made note of before; likely a foreigner from his appearance and a surprisingly difficult foe. Az was not accustomed to struggling in these matchups; this was the most fun he had had so far in this class.

It was clear that the other boy’s strength was flagging too, his exhaustion visible in every step. Still, he was fast, faster than Az thought anyone could be without being at a much higher level of body enhancement. That was the reason this duel had proved such a tough challenge; any spell Az threw at his opponent was simply evaded with impressive agility. Sitting back and launching Force Lances or Fireballs at his foe wasn’t working, so Az had tried to close the distance and engage the other boy in hand-to-hand combat only to find that he was still outmatched in pure speed. He could tell he could hit harder and had better technique than his foe, but that didn’t matter if he couldn’t actually land a clean blow, so he had dashed back, creating space once again as he tried to consider what to do.

His opponent broke from his circling, beginning to rush forward towards Dorian, so with a brief focusing of his will, Az launched a trio of Force Lances in quick succession towards the oncoming boy, who stepped to the side of the first one, only to find himself in the path of Az’s second missile. With a last second duck, the second spell was dodged, and the boy threw himself out of the path of the final lance which crashed harmlessly into the mana barrier enclosing the dueling ring.

Az sighed in frustration. This was getting him nowhere. Even his impressive - by the standards of the class - mana reserves were close to empty, and he suspected his opponent was in an even worse state than he was, given that he had just tried to close the distance on his own initiative for the first time of the fight. There were a few possible ways that Az could see to bring an end to the fight. He could continue harassing his opponent with spells, hoping that he would slow as his fatigue grew greater. That strategy seemed rather distasteful to Asmodeas; he didn’t want to eke out a win because his opponent collapsed, he wanted to triumph definitively, as a true mage would. He ran his mind through his library of spells, looking for something that could break this stalemate and after some deliberation he landed on a spell that could wrap this up tidily. There was one problem; he had only cast the spell successfully a handful of times.

Lightning Spike was a spell that Az had found the spellform for included in an appendix of a book he had skimmed through in the library. It was thrown in at the end of the text - an afterthought, clearly - but a particular feature of the spellform had intrigued the young mage. The author described the result of the spell as “results in the emission of a brief burst of lightning from the hand.”

What had caught Asmodeas’ eye was that the rune controlling the amount of mana used in the spell did so by taking the caster’s “intent” as an input. An earlier rune in the sequence created a link with the caster’s surface level thoughts and read their intent directly. Rather than the rune specifying the amount of mana required, it instead allowed the mage to decide how much mana to provide with each casting, so that the strength of the spell could be altered without having to modify the spellform. So Az could still practice the spell until he could cast it reflexively, but be able to adjust the strength of the lightning emitted with each casting. Or so the author maintained; Az was far from the level of mastery over the spell needed to verify that claim. Indeed, it was quite difficult to cast with his current level of control over his mana. Most of the time, he lost control of the flow of his mana or his concentration slipped before he could complete the spell. If it truly worked as described, and the spell could be honed to the level of being able to cast it instinctively, then Az could not help but wonder why this method of constructing spellforms was not ubiquitous.

Perhaps relying on a spell he couldn’t reliably cast was not the best decision in the middle of a fight, but he couldn’t think of a better option at the moment. Besides, maybe the pressure of the battle would be the crucible in which his ability with the spell would be brought to the next level. Or maybe he would just fail miserably. All there was to it was to try, and he’d better hurry, he thought, his foe was starting to close in again.

Az steeled his resolve, ignoring the protests of his aching body as he leaped back to create some distance between his opponent, who was now dashing towards him, his face a picture of grim determination. The other student’s body was covered in a sheen of mana - an aura of power held in place by will alone, that offered protection from attacks of both a physical and magical nature. It was the technique that Body Enhancement class had been devoted to for the past few weeks; control over one’s “aura” was seen as the hallmark of a mage’s strength.

As he landed, Az brought his hands up before him, palms extended as if to ward off the young warrior barrelling towards him. He stretched his mind out to his nexus, drawing power from it as he envisioned the spellform of Lightning Spike. Channeling mana into the runes, he felt the moment when the spell awaited his instruction; an intangible question tickling the back of his mind, seeking to know how much of his mana he desired to empower the spell with.

With a strangled yell, he focused his will and poured all he had left into the spell. Mana rushed out of his nexus as a sweeping tide of light in his mind’s eye, causing the envisioned runes to sear themselves into his vision, and an instant later a spear of brilliant light exploded from his outstretched palms. The power manifested as a crackling spear of searing blue radiance, and the projectile seemed to shriek as it tore through the space separating the two boys. Az blinked his eyes furiously, trying in vain to rid his vision of the glowing runes and specks of light flitting across his sight. A pungent smell assaulted his nostrils as he staggered about, utterly disorientated.

The missile impacted on the other mage’s mana shield with a resounding clap of thunder, shattering the flagging protection instantly and sending the unfortunate mage hurtling back through the air, even as the safety measures of the bracelet activated and surrounded him in a cocoon of sheltering green light. The light softened his impact on the training hall floor, so that the boy only bounced gently a handful of times off the hard surface before coming to a stop. The elastic properties of the green light helped to arrest the momentum of his flight in as gentle a fashion as could be managed by any enchantment.

Az’s vision slowly cleared, and he sagged to the floor with relief upon seeing that his foe had been blown from the dueling ring and was only now beginning to rouse himself from where he lay halfway across the hall. He guessed that no matter how fast the other boy was, it was another thing entirely to be faster than lightning.

Ms. Lare hurried to check both boys over for any serious injuries, and then began her routine breakdown of both students’ performances once the class had gathered around. Az’s foe, who Ms. Lare addressed as “Tomas”, was praised for his body enhancement, in particular his speed, but Lare was critical of his neglect of long-range spells such as the Force Lance. The other boy accepted the criticism with quiet deference, and Az found himself agreeing with his teacher’s assessment. Then it was his turn to be critiqued, and he tried to remain as detached as possible and not allow his pride to cloud his reception of Ms. Lare’s analysis. She knew what she was talking about, even if Az sometimes felt she could be needlessly critical.

Asmodeas’ body enhancement abilities were deemed acceptable, and his hand-to-hand combat technique praised, but the recommendation was made that he should devote more time to training his own speed. After today’s duel, he certainly intended to do so, regardless of whether or not she had said to. His use of the spells taught in the other classes so far was commended, and though Az’s final Lightning Spike had been the deciding factor in the fight, Ms. Lare reprimanded him gently for relying on a spell that he could not cast consistently. “An unreliable weapon is as much a danger to you as it is to your opponents,” she had pronounced sagely. She was right, of course, and Az knew it. Still, he had seen no other way of ending the fight in a satisfying way, and it had actually worked. In the future, he would not have to gamble with whether the spell would work or not. Practice would see to that.

After the assessment of the duel, the class departed from its usual routine as Ms. Lare reveal that she had an additional announcement to make.

The woman surveyed the gathered faces looking back at her, nodding at whatever she saw in their youthful faces, and began to speak again, “We have been training together now for over a month, and in that time I have seen each and every one of you make great strides forward in your ability as a combat mage.

“I wish to create the opportunity for you as individuals and as a class to showcase all the progress you have made and to demonstrate your resolve and dedication in the only way us combat types know how; a tournament.”

Ms. Lare’s normally quite stoic face was lit up by a mischievous grin as the class processed her words. Az felt his own mouth quirk into a smile; tournaments among mages were the things of legends, a chance to show off your power and skill in direct combat. He could think of nothing more exciting.

His teacher continued to explain the rules and logistics of the tournament, but he was barely listening anymore, his mind had been set ablaze. Az mentally restructured his training plan for the next few weeks, trying to think of how he could maximize his preparation time for this tournament. If he was going to win, he would need to prepare a few more trump cards like the Lightning Spike. And he did intend to win. This what he had been waiting for ever since he had first felt the cold of his brother’s enormous shadow; a chance to truly demonstrate his worth and ability for all to see.

He was going to have to completely restructure his day to accommodate his preparations. Perhaps he should pay Colin a visit too; he suspected the former soldier would be as excited about the whole thing as Az himself was. Something Lare said pricked his ears and he focused back in on the conversation; the tournament was to take place three weeks hence, and was to be a series of duels fought here in the training hall. Matchups would be made at random, and those that lost their first duel would enter the loser’s bracket, the winner of which would face off in the finals with whoever managed to stay in the first bracket. A standard double elimination tournament then. Classes were to continue as normal, though students were encouraged to make their own preparations outside of class time. Anyone who did not wish to participate was free to choose not to, though from looking around at the other students Az did not think anyone would avail of that possibility.

Az barely heard the excited chatter of the other students as the class was dismissed, heading back towards his room immediately. He had a lot to think about, a lot to plan. Failure here was not something he was willing to consider, even if he would be facing people like Tomas, though from all he had seen the boy was among the very best combatants in the class. Still, it was best to be prepared for much tougher opponents. Asmodeas intended to bring his ability as a mage to the next level for this contest, and he expected no less from those among his peers.