Chapter 11. The Far East Martial Federation
The morning of Finnigan's first match came quickly, and he woke up feeling exhausted. Fei was already out of bed, but she had left a note on her pillow. He took it and read the whole thing through. She expected him to wear Regalian attire? He grabbed his leather pouch and looked for his duelist clothing instead, but it wasn’t in there. In fact, all that was in there was a set of Regalian clothing. It was the same style he’d been using, only instead of the duelists' symbol on the front, it had the ornamented symbol of the Regalia.
Griping to himself, Finnigan put the clothing on. He took his wand in hand and walked from the room. He was met by a single member of the Regalia who had been stationed outside his door.
“Your attendant is currently brewing you a draught to wipe fatigue from both body and mind. You are to meet her in the clearing where you have been training,” the regalia said. Her emotionless face cracked and she gave him an encouraging grin. “Good luck today lost puppy of the Regalia. You may win, and you may lose, but whatever happens, don’t die.”
“That’s the game plan,” Finnigan said. “Thank you.” He gave her a grateful smile. He had dueled countless times, and his nerves were steel. However, he had never fought in a match where someone could die. Other than here at the palace that is. His heart was pounding in his chest and he couldn’t still his hands, but that might have been the exhaustion.
He made his way to the grounds, armored guard bowing to him as he walked past. “Thanks, fellas,” he said, tilting his head to them. He received a series of well wishes from regalia whenever they passed one another.
Finally, he reached the clearing where he’d spent his time practicing. There were regalia and armored guards surrounding the pitch; spears and wands at the ready. Fei stood, wearing an elaborate dress, black and fringed, with precious stones ornamented all throughout. On either side of her was a regalia, wearing their red dresses with the golden dragon.
Fei strode to Finnigan and handed him a small flask. “Drink my lost puppy,” she said. If Finnigan didn’t know better, he’d have sworn that he heard nervousness in her voice. He took the lid off of the flask and tilted it back, draining the contents into his mouth. The moment the liquid touched his lips a warmth spread throughout his face. It tasted like honey, and the aroma reminded him of home. The warmth spread throughout his entire body, dissipating the fatigue as it went.
“Thank you,” he said, handing the flask back. She refused it.
“No, it will refill whenever you require,” she said. “You are facing a summoner. He does not relent if one yields. He will kill you. He is the apprentice to Trem, the summoner lord. His master recently came out of hiding.”
“Why was his master in hiding?” Finnigan asked.
“The Shadow,” Fei said. “The Shadow arrived at the Summoners Guild headquarters and took all the demons. They behaved as men around The Shadow. The Summoners Guild enslaves them, The Shadow speaks to them as equals. The demons you will face will be enslaved. They will have one purpose and will not deviate from that.”
The way she spoke was elegant, but different from the norm. She sounded worried. “Don’t worry, you’ve taught me well. I know how to handle a demon,” he said. “By the way, where are my clothes?”
“If you survive, all your possessions will be returned. If you do not survive, then it is not something you need to worry about. Now, follow me.” She led him to his position and said, “Wait here, this is where you will be when the match begins.”
“Don’t we have to go to an arena or stadium?” Finnigan asked.
“No, it will come to us. The Far East Martial Federation isn’t a place, it isn’t a building; it’s an idea that can be taken anywhere,” she said. She gave him a resigned look then walked back to her place between the dragon regalia. After several minutes of waiting, a ball of light appeared, then spread open to create a portal. Through the portal came General Yang. He looked around with hunger in his eyes. He spotted Finnigan then gave a wicked grin. He walked, flanked by two regalia donning the red dragon and four armored guards. He took a position next to his sister.
They spoke briefly before a new portal opened and a man with pale skin, dressed all in black strode out. “You’re the duelist?” the man snarled at Finnigan. He had two chain collars dangling from his left hand.
“Hello, summoner,” Finnigan replied.
“It wasn’t a greeting!” the summoner spat. “There’s a bounty on your head! And I’m here to collect it! Start the match already!”
As if by his command lights began to appear on all sides, separating the combatants from the armored guard and regalia. Each light slowly turned into a small silvery bubble, and within each bubble was a blank white face.
“Ladies and gentlemen, patrons of the Far East Martial Federation,” a soft woman's voice said. “In his debut match, winner of La Semana De Los Gladiadores, a world-class duelist, Finnigan Higginbotham.” Finnigan expected cheering, but nothing came.
“No audience!” barked the summoner. “They see us, and we see how many of them there are, but no cheering and no magic inhibitors!” He laughed, well, it was more a cackle.
“His opponent, with six wins and no losses, Atiyama, the demon summoner! Apprentice to Trem, the summoner lord himself. Let the match begin,” the voice concluded.
Finnigan had his wand in hand and blasted several spells in rapid succession, but the summoner had a barrier erected. It was a good fifteen paces from the summoner himself. “That was close duelist, you’re quick!” he sneered at Finnigan. “You’re not allowed barrier spells in your duels are you?” The man cackled with delight then brandished a long thin wand. It looked and moved more like a hickory switch than any wand Finnigan had seen.
The Summoner began to mumble to himself as he waved his wand in the air in front of him. Finnigan blasted spell after spell at the barrier, he knew a barrier could be overwhelmed and doubted this man could stop Finnigan’s onslaught entirely. He cast faster and faster! The spells crashed loudly against the barrier creating a series of hollow sounds; as though a giant basin of water had been walloped on the side. There was an overwhelming snap, and the barrier cracked down the middle.
A final flourish of the summoner's wand and the man began to cackle again. On the ground around him a circle of flame ten paces wide erupted. When the fire vanished, strange symbols Finnigan had never seen were left, burnt into the ground.
Finnigan worked himself harder. Finally, the barrier shattered and the spells slowed in mid-air above the symbols. “No one has shattered my barrier before, but I figured for you, I’d need something a little more powerful. This is a rune shield, and no simple spell can get through it!” Atiyama said.
“Chaxun,” Finnigan breathed. The spell opened up an entirely new field of vision for the man. He could see hues, streams of color flowing through everything; everything except Atiyama’s rune shield. It seemed to repel magic. Though not visible to the naked eye, using the chaxun spell made it appear as a glass barrier.
Finnigan launched a series of spells at it, they hit the surface of the transparent dome, and it bent inward on itself like rubber. It stopped the spells then launched them back out at Finnigan. He sidestepped the blasts casually and continued to inspect the runic shield.
“This is it?” Finnigan shot. “You’re hiding in the shield? Isn’t there something against stalling a match?”
“I’m not stalling you idiot!” Atiyama shouted angrily. “It’s called strategy, maybe you should learn one of your own!” Finnigan conjured a portal, opening one part right in front of him, the other inside the rune shield. An ear-splitting explosion sounded from the top of the rune shield, dropping Atiyama to his rear. The face of the portal in front of Finnigan blasted the shockwave directly at him, he tried to move to the side but was blasted backward several feet.
Finnigan's ears were ringing and his vision blurred as he clambered to his feet. He stumbled back to his hands and knees. His body wouldn’t respond properly, wobbling this way and that. He looked at the summoner and felt panic surge through him. There were two of them now, moving slowly towards each other. He tried to regain his feet, but this time ended flat on his stomach. He watched the two men from his prone position and realized he was seeing double.
Atiyama finally came into focus; now if Finnigan could just get him and the rest of the world to stop spinning! Finnigan grabbed the grass tightly, vertigo bringing on nausea coupled with the feeling that he would fall off the world. Swallowing hard he fought to keep the vomit down, but was overcome by heaving despite himself. This wasn’t a duel, this was a deathmatch, and Finnigan was losing.
He regained a knee and realized his wand was no longer in his hand. He cast his eyes about frantically, searching for his one hope for salvation. He spared a glance for his foe and saw Atiyama slowly opening a portal which appeared to be composed of pure black sludge. Atiyama threw his two chained collars into the sludge, rippling the tarlike surface as they splashed beyond sight. The chains Atiyama held became taut; tension holding them like a straight line. The summoner pulled firmly yet slowly on them, and a foot slowly emerged through the tar, coating itself in the substance as it came.
Finnigan looked again for his wand and saw it several paces away. He stood, but his legs almost immediately gave out, sending him crashing to the ground only a few paces from his wand. He felt a prickling sensation over his body as he struggled to crawl. He rolled to his back and looked at Atiyama again. The summoner had pulled one of the demons almost all the way through the portal. Black tar was dripping from the demon as it stared at the summoner; it’s cold, expressionless eyes meeting the summoner’s gleeful gaze. Finnigan was reminded of a child joyously playing with fire before the child was burnt.
His vision started to blur again, and he shut his eyes and rested his head. Was this really as long as a duelist could last in the Far East Martial Federation? Was this the end of Finnigan? He’d never discovered what happened to his father. He and Gulliver were still estranged. He hadn’t beaten Garvel Bar yet either.
Finnigan reached for his pouch and withdrew the flask Fei had given him. He opened it and drank, the feeling of revitalization hit him almost immediately. It spread through his body, strengthening his limbs. The dizziness and nausea subsided, replaced by vigor. He rolled over and sprang for his wand, tucking his flask back in his pouch as he went.
He grabbed his wand and tucked into a roll, firing a severing curse at the limb of a nearby tree. He launched the limb at the rune shield, which caught it and shot it back out the direction from whence it came. An entire demon and another half had emerged from the portal. All that was left now was the waiting, well, that and the fighting and possible death.
Finnigan breathed deeply, calming himself for what was about to happen. The second demon emerged completely, and the portal began to close. It was painstakingly slow, and the look on Atiyama’s face was that of pure concentration. At long last it was closed, and the pale man was sweating profusely. He turned to Finnigan, face turning to a wicked sneer. He motioned the chains forward, and the two tar-coated netherworlders stepped to the edge of the rune shield. Slowly the two demons walked out, as if no shield were there, then the collars snapped off of their necks back to the summoners side.
“Well, it was fun while it lasted duelist!” snarled the summoner. “Kill him!” he screamed at the demons. In unison, they leapt toward Finnigan. He encircled one in a barrier spell, holding it in the air. The moment it caught the demon Finnigan could feel the magic strain, as though holding it was too much. He lowered it to the ground and housed it on the grass and leaves instead.
“Impellio!” he bellowed at the demon, still rushing him. The spell was well aimed and hit the creature in the face, packing just enough pressure to knock its head back as it sprinted. Finnigan pointed his wand beneath the demon and flicked it up, uprooting the ground where the demon's foot had just stepped. It sent the demon toppling backward, leaving a trail of black tar on the ground where it slid.
Fei had taught him to use the environment against demons, but Finnigan was a duelist. He started casting impelio as fast as he could, pelting the demon with raw energy. A single one of these spells would obliterate a man, but against a demon, they were no more than getting pelted with a marble. Enough marbles in the right places though...well, that could kill a man, or so Finnigan hoped. He cast as rapidly as he could, slowing the demon’s ascent.
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It held its hand out, stopping the spells from hitting it in the face. Finnigan warped the spells, bending them around the creature’s outstretched hand. It put its head down, covering its face with its arms and it rose, starting towards Finnigan. He increased the number of spells he was firing until they were like a swarm of bees circling around the demon. He cast more until the creature couldn’t be seen in the throng of spells.
An unnatural scream let out, and the demon shot into the air; a high arching leap towards Finnigan. It landed, and Finnigan got a clear look at its face. The tar was worn off on one side, exposing bone and blood. The creature screamed at Finnigan then bore down on him.
It was about to reach him when he shimmered. Time froze as he did. First he felt a tingling sensation throughout his legs, which spread quickly to the rest of him. He felt lighter than air, then thought of his target destination, high above the arena. He snapped back to reality and began to fall. He pointed his wand down at the demon far below; it looked so small and harmless from this high up.
He cast the impelio charm in as rapid a succession as he could muster as he dropped. A thick beam of light shot from his wand, the spells were so fast they were end to end, blasting down onto the demon below. Finnigan didn’t relent. He fell faster and faster, channeling his will through his wand and into the beam of magic. He was close to impact, dangerously close. He was less than a second from crushing himself against the surface of the earth when he shimmered.
He appeared where he had stood before and looked at the smoking crater that held the remains of his target. It had been crushed to a pile of tar, blood, and bone. Finnigan turned his attention to the entrapped demon. It was flailing impotently against his barrier spell; gnashing its teeth as it tried to repudiate its captivity.
Finnigan crouched low and pointed his wand at the cell. He pressed it further and further back, inching closer to the rune shield. Finnigan had a theory, but he had to test it. He removed the barrier between the rune shield and the demon, and pressed the demon’s back against the invisible barrier.
“Chaxun,” Finnigan mumbled to himself. He saw the runic shield again, a transparent half sphere surrounding Atiyama. There was an indentation where the body of the demon was pressed, and Finnigan moved the demon even deeper into it. The transparent membrane began to quiver, then pulse. It slapped harder and harder against the back of the demon, as though trying to eject it from its folds. The creature started to thrash as it tried to break free from the trap. The demon quit resisting as it was concussed by the rapid impacts. After a few moments it was crushed completely, and Finnigan let his barrier dissipate.
He looked into the rune shield and saw Atiyama ripping another portal open, again covered in thick black tar. The summoner swung both of his chains around his head, one in each hand like great lassos. He launched them both through the thick black substance, then heaved back. He wasn't gentle or slow this time. He pulled on both chains with all his might, grunting from the exertion.
“It’s a big one!” he yelled. “Common you piece of garbage! Your life is mine now! Surrender to me!” Atiyama cackled in delight as something emerged. It was a head, towering high above the squat summoner; both of his chains clamped around the neck of the creature. Atiyama heaved harder, all his strength barely moving the demons thick neck.
“Uh-oh,” Finnigan mumbled. The demon had to be at least eight feet tall, and nearly as wide, bulging slightly in the middle. The layer of tar on this demon was much thicker, making it absorb the ambient light around the creature.
“The dark realm’s membrane is thick on this one, don’t expect your spells to work on it duelist!” He looked at the monster, then led it to the edge of the rune shield. The creature walked through the barrier, one lumbering step at a time. With his chaxun spell Finnigan saw an enchantment radiating from the silvery collars around the neck of the beast. The spell was familiar, but different. It was almost like a modified barrier spell, but lacking in some way.
“Scintillam!” Finnigan bellowed, carefully aiming for the collar. If it had influence over the beast, maybe attacking through the collar would influence it as well. An arc of lightning shot from Finnigan's wand, hitting the collar and spreading through both the demon and the summoner. The demon lurched forward and bellowed, some of the tar from its neck flying in different directions. The summoner was launched backward through the air, landing just within his rune circle. The electricity had left him smoking slightly, the ends of his hair singed. He rolled over and coughed into the leaves and grass.
“Alright big fella, just you and me,” Finnigan said quietly. He launched the impellio spell as rapidly as he could, spells dissipating before they reached the creature's body. The light surrounding the creature warped, obscuring the view of the world behind it. The aura seemed to melt Finnigan’s spells, he couldn’t land a hit on the goliath.
Finnigan shimmered to the far side of the rune shield, mere inches from the summoner's face. The summoner slowly looked up, still reeling from the shock. His eyes met Finnigan’s, and Atiyama let out a panicked yell as he clambered away. Tar from the demon stained the summoner’s clothing and skin, yet didn’t disintegrate the man. Finnigan pointed his wand at a small twig near his feet; he cast a barrier around it and sent it into the rune shield. It held fast, indenting the shield. After a moment the shield began to quiver. It percussed rapidly against the barrier, shattering the spell and ejecting the twig. He cast another barrier spell around the same twig, altering it to contain more magic energy instead of less. He levitated it and the rune shield began to quiver before it was even touched. The impact sent the entire shield into violent spasms before the barrier finally wicked out of existence.
“He’s over here you stupid demon!” screamed Atiyama. The demon turned and looked back at Finnigan. It leapt into a high arc over the rune shield. Finnigan shimmered away, and the monster crashed hard onto the place Finnigan had just stood.
From his position high atop the tree, Finnigan could see both demon and summoner alike looking for him. He took the opportunity to create a storm of the leaves on the ground and blasted it at the demon, coating it in leaves which quickly burnt up. Finnigan looked around the forest floor and saw leaves charred and smouldering wherever the thick black tar touched. The demon walked over to the vitiated remains of one of the demons before him and absorbed the tar, growing slightly in the process.
He enchanted the leaves to swirl around the rune shield, blocking the rest of the arena from the summoner’s view. “You can’t hide from me! Demon, kill him already you pathetic creature!” Finnigan put barrier spells of different intensities around individual leaves and launched them one by one at the rune shield. The higher the power in the barrier spell, the more violent the explosion. Finnigan tried reducing the power of the barrier spells, and the lower the energy, the smaller the explosion.
“He has to be in the trees!” screamed Atiyama. “Tear them down!” The hulk of a demon leapt at the tree nearest it, ripping through the trunk as though it were made from paper mache. The tremendous crash Finnigan heard betrayed how flimsy the trees appeared; the demon was really that powerful. It was opposite Finnigan and worked its way through the perimeter surrounding the pitch, one tree at a time. Finnigan kept reducing the power of his barrier spells, getting it as low as he could without removing its power altogether. He moved the next leaf into the shield; about half way in it ignited.
The monster began to sprint, just running through trees, bowling them over. Finnigan put a sturdy barrier between it and the next tree, which the beast wholly shattered; not even slowing its stride. The creature ran faster, becoming a blur. Finnigan didn’t have a chance to react before it hit his tree. The collision lurched Finnigan up, cracking his head into a branch above him. The world seemed to blur out and Finnigan fell sideways with the tree. The outstretched branches hit the soft ground first, snapping under the weight of the rest of the tree. Finnigan landed between two large snapped branches, each thicker than him. The large trunk of the tree crashed onto the two branches inches from Finnigan, pinning him between them.
He couldn’t keep running, he couldn't win without facing the demon. His heart began to pound as his senses restored. He could feel the warmth of his blood trickling down the back of his head into his face, the sensation filling him with anger. He felt the power stone on his wand, waiting to be called by him. He willed his power into it, luring the stone. Its power followed his trail of magic, back up his wand, into his hand, his wrist, his arm. Eventually, into all of him. The feeling was exhilarating. Maybe with this he could overpower the rune shield.
“Impellio!” he yelled, blasting the tree high into the air. He stood and saw the black blur that was the demon rushing him. He pulled more power through the stone, and it livened his mind, allowing him to see the beast.
“Kill him!” screamed Atiyama, voice cracking. He sounded to Finnigan as though he were speaking in slow motion.
Finnigan blasted a tuft of ground out from where the demon was going to step. The lumbering beast’s leg straightened completely as Finnigan roared “Impellio!” The spell, enhanced significantly by the imperial stone, passed through the demon’s aura and impacted its knee directly. The tremendous knee snapped backward, and the creature tumbled to the ground in a roar. Recalling his duel with Kench, Finnigan conjured Kench’s golden spell. It was a simple tickle spell with the power amped up, and Finnigan had power. He launched it at the demon, it hit the side of the demon's neck, and its head jerked down violently. Finnigan grinned, blood dripping into his teeth. This spell worked on the demon better than any other. He had to remember to thank Kench for that.
He launched spell after spell at the creature, bending them to hit it from all sides. After a few moments, his spells turned into a stream of magic, thick and golden. He spread it into hundreds of smaller vines, which he turned into a vortex of magic, encircling and assailing the demon. The giant screamed and howled as the magic made its way through its tar, sinking into its black flesh. It began to collapse, muscles cramping in on themselves as they curled up. After a few brief moments the howling was cut off, and a few seconds after that the demon stopped moving altogether.
Its corpse was bent and twisted, limbs jetting out at strange angles. Finnigan turned and looked at Atiyama. He was holding the chains to two collared demons, his mouth open and eyes wide. The demons in his shield were entirely different from any Finnigan had seen. One was tiny, malformed, with a head disproportionately large for its tiny frame. The other slender, slightly shorter than Finnigan and shaped like a tar-covered female. Both remained motionless, staring straight ahead.
“You think you won?” Atiyama spat. “You think you’ve got a chance to win? You’re wrong!” He bent down and picked up the smaller demon and placed it just outside the rune shield. Finnigan employed his chaxun spell and saw the modified barrier spell once again, coating the summoner’s hands, shielding him from the tar of the demon.
“That’s how you do it?” Finnigan asked. “That’s how you prevent the tar from burning you? A modified barrier spell?”
The summoner took off the collar and placed it rapidly around the neck of the slender demon, double collaring her. After a few moments, the tiny demon let out a wail. It pierced Finnigan to his soul, the mutated little demon couldn’t survive long, he had to go to it, comfort it. He walked towards the pitiful creature. If he held it, he would die. That would be easy to overcome, he would just make a barrier spell. The poor creature!
“This is a wailer,” Atiyama yelled, only his voice was distant, like a dream. “It puts you in a trance, a trance that can’t be broken!”
“Why do you yell?” Finnigan asked calmly. “Were you not loved as a child? Do you not know how to treat others with respect? Be quiet,” Finnigan said.
“Your last words!” Atiyama yelled, before laughing as loudly as Finnigan believed the man could. Finnigan put a barrier spell around his person, but it was too rigid, he had to hold the demon, comfort it. He reduced the energy of the spell, more and more until the spell was fluid, moving free with his body. He looked down and saw with his chaxun spell that none of the energy that made a barrier spell was present, instead, it was just the fluid framework of the spell.
“Pick up the damn thing!” screamed Atiyama. Finnigan had to shut him up before he picked up the demon; otherwise, he could never get it calmed down. He rushed through the rune shield, his new fluid barrier spell enabling his passage, and punched Atiyama in the face. The summoner fell to the ground, moaning.
“I said be quiet,” Finnigan said. He turned back to the babe and realized that on this side of the rune shield he no longer wanted to touch it, its wailing had no effect on him. It began to cough and sputter, before turning and crawling toward him. It stood and rested on the shield, wailing at Finnigan.
Finnigan blasted the runic symbols within the shield, and it wicked out of existence. The tiny demon fell forward, its enchantment reaching Finnigan’s ears once more. He pointed his wand at it and hesitated for only a moment before hitting it with one of Kench’s golden spells. The lack of tar on the demon made it almost wholly susceptible to the attack, cramping all of its muscles rapidly. The wailer let out one last pained mone before going still.
From behind him, an ear-splitting scream unleashed. It was full of pain and agony. Something hard slammed into him, sending him flying through the air. He crashed into the ground, air being pushed from his lungs. He rolled over onto his back and saw the slender demon leaping into the air. It came crashing down on him and began slashing at him with unforgiving fingernails. Finnigan used his arms to absorb the blows. The talons shredded through his clothing, rending his flesh to the bone.
“Impellio!” he bellowed, wand pointed at the chest of the demon. The spell, empowered by his imperial stone, launched the demon backward through the air. It arced high, then landed with a dull thud near the fallen trees behind the summoner. It rose in stride with Finnigan, a large dent in its chest from his spell. The summoner had regained his feet and was quickly conjuring another portal. Finnigan was losing blood fast from his arms and head, and he could feel the world spinning around him. The demon staggered towards him and fell as it passed the summoner. It grabbed the corpse of the wailer and pulled it up into itself.
It wrapped itself around the smaller demon, but the effort was futile. It held its smaller counterpart tightly against itself, then collapsed, the lesser demon still fast against its chest.
“It’s over summoner, yield,” Finnigan said. The summoner went on creating his portal, opening it faster than he had the others. Small rifts of magic began to appear in the air surrounding the rectangular gateway, separating everything around them into doubles of themselves for a brief moment.
“No!” Atiyama screamed. “You’re done! You’re dead! You can’t beat me!”
“Facit!” Finnigan yelled. An orange spell shot from his wand and slashed through the silver collars, cutting them to pieces. The tiny silver shards fell beneath the autumn leaves and out of sight.
Atiyama turned towards Finnigan, eyes widening with shock. “No...I’ll kill you!” He started blasting curses at Finnigan, which Finnigan batted aside easily. Abruptly, several pairs of hands reached through the portal and seized Atiyama. He screamed, dropping his wand into the grass and leaves below. The hands pulled him into the portal, which snapped shut, stifling his screams into an echo which faded into nothingness.
“The victor is Finnigan Higginbotham,” the smooth female voice announced. “Your next match is in one week. Prepare well.” The many faces faded from view, revealing the regalia and armored guard. Fei stood, staring at him with an impressed look on her face. Yang was nowhere in sight.
“You have made us proud Finnigan Higginbotham,” Fei called out to him. “They are calling you the Regalian Warrior. We will prepare you for every match, and you will bring the Regalia much honor.”
Finnigan slumped to his knees, feeling faint. “I think I’ll need something stronger than what’s in the flask,” he said.
Fei laughed with delight. “Regalia, heal him!” she yelled merrily.
Finnigan didn’t know what to think of this woman, but he was sure intrigued.