“Sera, I see you’re still around.” I replied unenthusiastically. The person who had called out to me was a long standing rival after all. Dressed in an elegant, strapless purple dress, she was quite the beauty. Her uncommon, black hair fell into curls at the height of bared shoulders. Her eyes that met mine were the same purple as the dress she wore.  Her skin was paler than most, but considering her northern heritage, that’s to be expected.

“Aren’t you normally an energetic ball of blubber?” said Sera, an eyebrow rising into an arch. She pursed her lips, absent-mindedly tapping on the edge of her wine glass, with her well-kept, long nails. She looked off into space for a moment, before a sparkle emerged in her unusual eyes.

“Oh, are you still depressed you didn’t get invited to the Magic Assembly last year? You do know I don’t handle invitations, don’t you?” she teased. The woman was being far too familiar for comfort. Certainly we had attended The National Academy together back in the day, but we were never friends.

Despite her youthful appearance, we were both the same age: 40 years old. I’ve aged well, and become this stunning example for younger nobles to follow, whereas Sera hasn’t aged a day since turning 20.

“Enough with your nonsense, woman! Do you really think I would be so petty?! I never wanted to attend in the first place.” I replied curtly. Such audacity, to think I would’ve held a grudge over that… Well, it was rather rude… I am easily one of the most accomplished Magisters in the Empire, but I don’t even get an invitation to The Assembly?

“Yeah, yeah. Stop shouting, you old fool.” She replied, the corner of her lip curling into a mischievous smile. What an infuriating person.

“Old fool? Woman, we are the same age!” I replied with barbed words. Sera’s cheeky smile froze, and was quickly replaced by a dangerously ambiguous expression.

Why was she so sensitive about her age? The woman’s a bloody witch, even if the years do go by, the signs won’t show. Why does she always get so offended by these numbers?

“Yes, we are the same age, but you certainly shouldn’t be proud of that; you’ve yet to bed a woman despite the years creeping by.” She shot back.

Such a low blow! I’ve been keeping my body pure. I certainly won’t apologise for being a romantic; one day the perfect lady will come along… probably.

“I am a believer in love, and traditions! I know you may have slept with as many men as you have years, but don’t try to force such uncouth behaviour upon your peers!” I retorted. I responded in turn with a low blow. Whether there was any truth to what I said is up for debate, but those were the rumours that floated about the court.

They may have been started by noblewomen who were jealous of her beauty, and I may have propagated said rumour a little bit, but either way she’s still an incredibly unpleasant person.

The dangerous expression on her face was accompanied by an increasingly red skin tone as her brow began to scrunch up.

“That’s it, it’s time for you to start burning off some of your blubber. Let’s enter the garden and settle this the usual way.” She said coldly. I see, so a duel it is.

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“Lead the way, you hag.” I answered.

Our conversation had seemingly gathered a crowd, and as we walked out to the nearby garden courtyard, they followed. Each time this woman and I cross paths, we end up spitting fire at one another, both in a figurative and literal sense.

We positioned ourselves across the courtyard from one another. The crowd watched from afar, unwilling to come close to the soon to be battleground. The night sky was illuminated with silvery light of the moon, and everything was still as I looked at my opponent.

“Are you ready?” she asked. I nodded in affirmation, and then we began.

Chanting under her breath, in some gibberish language of the North, Sera swept her hand in arc towards me. A whip of purple flame manifested in the air, hurtling in my direction. It writhed and twisted like an eel as it grew ever closer.

Sera was one of the most fortunate mages in The Empire, born with the constitution of a witch. Witches are fundamentally more in tune with their magical abilities, their accomplishments far surpassing the realms that we humans strive for. With powerful magic at their disposal, and lives lasting even longer than the centuries the elven race live, they are quite the unfair existence.

Being a witch, her purple flame was naturally far more dangerous than what a normal mage could produce.  Boasting the accomplishment of fusing flames and poison, she’s famously known for the resultant unique weapon at her disposal. That corrosive flame, famed for its destructive qualities, was what I faced.

I felt a line of sweat trickle down my forehead, as I watched the writhing purple flame grow closer. Having lost the initiative, I grasped at the short, wooden cane strapped onto the inside of jacket. The dark wood gleamed, reflecting the purple light of the surroundings. With the greatest speed I could muster, I thrust the cane at the oncoming attack.

With a sharp tug, the flame was wrenched from Sera’s control. Feeling the uncomfortable heat from the blaze at the end of the cane, I flicked my wrist, curling the flames into a ball that I promptly shot back to its creator.

Sera’s brow scrunched up as the attack returned to her. It sputtered out of existence before reaching its target, with some more nonsensical chanting. Unwilling to give her another opportunity to attack, I pressed forwards.

Feeling the flow of mana in my veins, I pulled it out of my body and weaved it into the space in front of me. With the hook of the cane, I caught the mana infused space and flung it towards Sera. The only evidence of the attack was a barely visible ripple in the air as travelled.

Sera was unfortunately also quite quick with her next move, and while the mana infused space was heading towards her, a number of streams of purple flame were converging on me. We gave each other a knowing look, and cancelled the spells. I reached out with my cane, and gave sharp backwards tug, dispersing the space just inches away from making contact. The paths of flame that had been converging on me were also fizzed out.

The sound of applause came from the nearby crowd of nobles. The entire event was only a few seconds long, but such was the case between powerful Mages; everything was decided in the space of a few seconds. Both of us were untouched at the end, and it was a fine display of control that the majority couldn’t hope to achieve.

“Well, I think it’s clear who the victor is,” called out Sera, as she walked across the clearing towards me. Indeed, it was very clear. I nodded, happy to see that the woman had finally accepted my superiority.

“Yes, I was indeed the victor.” I said rather smugly.

“What fantasy are you indulging in over there? It was clear as day that my flames would’ve reached you first,” said Sera. What a spiteful woman, unable to accept her defeat at the hands of a superior individual. My silent contempt seemed to infuriate her, so she continued to say, “Wipe that stupid grin off your face before I burn off that ridiculous moustache.”

Threats now? How childish. I’ve always considered myself above such pettiness, but this woman truly knows how to push me close to the edge. You don’t see me threatening her loved ones, so how can she threaten my moustache like that. Marvin has been on my upper lip ever since I could grow facial hair.