“You know the rules, right?” Kelvan asked.
Gideon did a double take as he looked at his Great-Uncle. The Archmage was no longer trapped in a floating mirror. He stood beside Gideon on the raised platform, hands clasped before him. His red eyes and pale, wrinkled skin were even more imposing in person.
Tentatively, Gideon reached out and poked him in the shoulder. Surprisingly, the rough fabric of his black and white robes felt solid to the touch.
“Yes, yes,” Kelvan said, a note of exasperation in his voice. “This dimension is merely an abstraction, a purely magical realm I enchanted into the mirror when I had a body. A side project that was both entertaining and, in hindsight, quite useful. I can appear however I want in here.”
“Can I?” Gideon asked. “Like if I wanted to be a few inches taller, or maybe have a stronger jawline—”
Kelvan sighed and rubbed his forehead with his fingers. “That’s hardly the point, Nephew. I didn’t drag this thing out of storage for the benefit of your vanity.”
Gideon shrugged as if he didn’t much care either way. “Just curious.”
“So. Do you know the rules of a proper wizard’s duel?”
“Let’s assume I don’t and go from there,” Gideon said, a bit embarrassed. He thought he knew, but he’d never been in one and was worried the books he read had left out some crucial details.
“It starts when you leave this platform and enter the arena.” Kelvan gestured to the rectangular field in front of them. “It ends when you or your opponent leave the arena or get knocked out. Or if one of you surrenders or is grievously wounded.” Seeing the worried expression on Gideon’s face, Kelvan smiled. “Don’t worry. If your projection here is seriously harmed, you’ll be ejected from the mirror with your physical body still perfectly intact. Nothing will be damaged. Other than your pride, perhaps.”
“Why would my pride be wounded?” Gideon asked. “It’s my first duel.”
“It’s his, too.”
Gideon stared at his reflection on the other side of the arena and shuddered. Unlike Gideon, his mirror image wasn’t holding a staff. Though it looked exactly like him, it showed no personality. It was standing completely motionless, staring across the expanse of the arena.
“Is that what you were doing in my room this morning?” Gideon asked. “Collecting … that?”
“An astute observation, Gideon,” Kelvan said. “I needed to extract it while you dreamed.” He stroked his beard and grinned. “You know what they say—your only real opponent is yourself. Or, in this case, the person you were earlier this morning. Any more questions?”
“Well, no, but I—”
“Great!” Kelvan reached out and shoved Gideon forward, sending him hurtling off the platform's edge. “Good luck, Nephew!” he called out as Gideon screamed.
In a panic, Gideon shouted, “Entomb!” and tried to build a shell of earth to catch himself. However, it had only half-formed when he collided with it, rolling off and continuing to fall.
“You still shout the names of your spells?” Kelvan called out from atop the platform. “Is this amateur hour?”
Gideon landed on his knees in the dirt, using the tip of the staff to help break his fall. He could feel a ripple of energy within the staff—it seemed almost annoyed to be used in such a fashion. Or perhaps that was only Gideon projecting.
He climbed to his feet, dusting off his robes.
The mirror image Gideon nimbly jumped off the platform, projecting an angled shelf of rock from its hand which it slid off of before landing in a crouch. There was no emotion in its eyes, only a calm resolve.
Gideon cursed under his breath. Kelvan’s words echoed in his mind—Is this amateur hour?
It was, in fact. He’d just hit level six earlier today. Most Falconridge students were level 20, or higher, by the time they graduated. But he still wanted to impress the old man, even if Uncle Kelvan was infuriating. Taking a measured breath, Gideon stepped forward and channeled his mana through his arm and into his staff.
This time he didn’t speak the name of [Hail of Stone], only thought of the spell’s mana signature as he channeled his will through the staff’s crystal. A group of rock shards formed in front of him. Gideon remembered the staff’s properties and how they primarily interacted with his Spiritweft skill, which was still in its early stages. He began to change the spell as he formed it, layering [Sharpness] and [Toughness] onto the projectiles as they formed. Though the magic was composed of elementary pieces he had cast countless times before, he had never combined them like this.
The shards gleamed with dagger-like edges and grew thicker, stronger. After a moment’s hesitation, Gideon let them fly at his opponent.
The mirror image didn’t move at first. Unnervingly, it only stared at Gideon and watched him cast. But when the spell had crossed half the arena, the mirror image suddenly surged into action, reaching out with both hands and summoning a shield of earth.
Gideon noticed it was using [Entomb] and [Toughness] to create an earthen shield. Gideon’s attack hit the shield and sunk into it, the shards embedding themselves in the rock. They did not break through.
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The reflection flung its hand to the side, and the shield crumbled. Then it created its own [Hail of Stone] and sent it hurtling back toward Gideon.
Gideon supposed the awkward thing about dueling yourself was that you had all the same moves. Channeling his mana, he created his own [Entomb] enchanted with [Toughness], just like his reflection, and blocked the attack. He was wondering how to break the stalemate when he felt the earth beginning to rumble.
His [Entomb] had blocked his vision of the mirror image, but as Gideon tried to run forward, he felt the earth beneath him begin to fragment.
The mirror image had knelt, placed its hands against the earth, and cast [Quake]. The [Hail of Stone] had only been a feint to distract Gideon long enough to prepare its actual attack.
Gideon cursed himself as a crack split beneath his feet, and one of his legs fell in. He gripped his staff and gritted his teeth, trying to free himself.
His mirror image wasted no time, taking advantage of Gideon’s weakness to cast another [Hail of Stone]. As it did so, the earth shifted, crushing Gideon’s leg. With a sickening snap, Gideon felt his bone break into pieces.
Though he may have been inside a mirror, the pain felt real, and he cried out. As the shards of rock flew across the arena towards him, he could feel Kelvan’s disappointment, almost as if it were a tangible aura.
No, Gideon thought, not like this. If he were going to lose, it wouldn’t be without a fight. He could cast another partial [Entomb] to shield himself, but it wouldn’t solve his main problem—his leg was trapped in the earth as it continued to rumble and fracture around him.
Channeling as much mana as he could into his staff, he placed its crystal against the ground by his foot. His plan would require more control than he had previously managed, but it was his only hope to free his leg and dodge his reflection’s attack simultaneously.
He focused all of his mana beneath himself. Rather than shaking the earth violently, he tried to move it in one direction—straight upward. With a grunt of exertion, he felt his mana flowing into the working. For a moment, he almost shouted, “Quake!” before he caught himself and bit his tongue.
It wasn’t a [Quake] anymore, anyway.
The earth trembled and heaved, launching himself upward on a pillar of earth. His reflection’s [Hail of Stone] clattered harmlessly beneath him as he rose higher and higher, throwing himself upward with great force.
The earth stopped, but Gideon kept going, flying up into the air. He had put a little too much force into his spell, he now realized. The good news was that his leg was free. The bad news was that his already wounded leg would not support his weight when he landed.
His mirror image watched him with a neutral expression, eyes tracking him as he flew upward.
Gideon pointed his staff down at his reflection and triggered his staff’s active ability. As he pushed more of his mana into the staff, he felt the memory of his earlier [Hail of Stone] within the crystal. He commanded the staff to produce its [Echo], and shards of earth formed and launched forward of their own volition, taking almost no effort on Gideon’s part. There were fewer shards than the full-strength spell, but every bit helped. Gideon had to keep his reflection on defense. Otherwise, it could shoot him right out of the sky.
Unfortunately, Gideon’s reflection seemed to realize this as well. Rather than trying to defend itself, the mirror image cast its own [Hail of Stone] and launched it right back. The two spells collided mid-air, some of the projectiles glancing off each other and being deflected while others remained moving along their path.
In a panic, Gideon cast an [Entomb] in front of himself, layering [Toughness] onto it as quickly as it formed, blocking both his opponent’s spell and his vision. He had no idea what the reflection would try to do next. But maybe it didn’t matter, Gideon thought.
An idea had occurred to him. He continued to form more of the Entomb than just the shield in front of him, enclosing himself underneath his legs and behind his body. He left only a tiny hole at the top for air. He felt the [Hail of Stone] hit his shield without penetrating it. He placed his hand against the shell, infusing the conjured earth with even more of his mana.
[ Low Mana Warning! ]
Gideon cursed under his breath. Sad that even in a mirror world, he had to worry about his finite, limited mana pool.
This duel needed to end. Now.
Blinking his eyes and ignoring the pounding in his head, he pushed the earth forward and down, straight towards his opponent. Like when he’d launched himself upward earlier, or when he'd tried to catch Grimsby, he willed the stone to move.
With a rush, he felt the sphere around him launch forward, accelerating until he was pushed against its back wall, his stomach twisting.
The ball of earth struck the ground, shattering into fragments. His mirror image had dived out of the way at the last possible moment, but Gideon saw it nearby, lying on the ground, dazed. Gideon tried to step forward, but his leg flopped uselessly, and he fell to the side, landing amidst the shattered remnants of his conjuration.
The reflection reached out with one hand and conjured a [Hail of Stone]. Gideon pointed his staff at it and did the same. Both their spells clashed in the air, but Gideon’s was no mere [Echo] this time. Gideon felt jagged stones puncture his arm and shoulder, and he screamed in agony. But two of Gideon’s rocks pierced the reflection in the stomach and the heart.
After a moment, the room dissolved.
With a start, Gideon found himself on the floor of the training chamber. Two mirrors loomed above him. One of them contained his Uncle.
“Not bad, Nephew,” Kelvan said, and his eyes gleamed. “Not good, either. Extremely sloppy. A comedy of errors from the moment you foolishly allowed me to push you off the platform. But you’ve got some fight in you, I’ll give you that. That was almost a draw, but you probably would have survived. So I’ll be a generous soul, and call that your win.”
Gideon set down his staff and started to feel his leg, checking it for broken bones. With a sigh of relief, he realized he was perfectly fine. It was just as Kelvan had said. The duel had only been a magical simulation.
Though his wounds were gone, Gideon’s mana expenditure had been genuine. His head still pounded with fatigue. But he’d won his first duel. Against himself or not, he wasn’t about to ignore his achievement. He grinned and began to laugh, as much from relief as anything else.
“So, what’s next?” Gideon asked, eager to continue his training.
“About that,” Kelvan said. “I know I said Clonk would help you train this afternoon, but he’s a bit busy at the moment, so we might need to postpone.”
“Busy? What happened on the roof, anyway?”
“I’m afraid Grimsby had a bit of a tumble.”
“Oh my gods,” Gideon said.
“No, no, don’t worry. He’s totally fine—finely spread across the courtyard in about two hundred pieces.” The Archmage’s reflection paused thoughtfully, stroking his chin. “Sir Clonk tries his best during the rebuilding process, but I’m afraid he struggles with some of the finer points of human anatomy. So, Nephew, tell me—do you know your tibia from your fibula?”
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