“All magic extracts a price. Generally speaking it's only that of your mana, which will recharge over time. But some of the arts require a touch of the gods to complete. The ones that are considered taboo will take a piece of your life force in exchange for power. Though I don’t think the mage will know at the time exactly how much had been taken, nor how long until their debt may come due.”
--- Cleric Esmerelda Evermoor, during her Faithday sermon
“Right there,” Fallon pointed excitedly, “Did you see the mage moving his pinky finger slightly down just as his casting was nearing completion? That takes a lot of control to do. He was altering the element that he was planning to use, which while possible takes a lot of power and skill. Instead of working with lightning he moved it to be a fire spell!’
Milo’s jaw dropped as he watched in awe of the competitors battling it out. “I mean I can see what you’re talking ‘bout but I n’er seen it done so quick. How would you counter that?”
“You would need the same control and power. And you would need to recognize what is happening and be able to also shift your spell, and to do so in the appropriate timing too which could be a matter of split seconds. And that's also the reason that you won’t see many people even bothering to truly counter things. They will either go toe to toe and try to overpower each other or just dodge.”
“Right. Be dodgy. Or be so powerful you knock ‘em right out!” Flexing his arms, Milo taunted, “I can do power.”
“In the proving grounds, power isn't something to fear.”
“So fear what ‘den? The people that can counter?”
Fallon looked Milo directly in the eye and resolutely said, “No. Countering is a skillful act. Much more skillful than just trying to go punch for punch with someone or just jumping out of the way. But being able to counter the spell being thrown at you is only part one of what you would need to do. The other part is attacking quickly after countering. Someone who has the control needed to counter then immediately brace and throw an attack… those are the people who are the true danger. And that right there is what makes the difference between a person who can cast spells and someone who is a true master of spell weaving.”
“So what would you do, Fallon?”
Perplexed, Fallon looked right at Milo. “What would I do? Honestly, Milo, I have to tell you I would fail.”
“Fail, what’chu mean?”
“If we are just talking about stopping the opposing bolt of energy, then there are about fifteen different ways to deal with someone casting that. You could call up a wall of stone, cast an opposing bolt, shield yourself, or even use a simple spell to alter their hand. All of them would likely render their offensive spell useless or at least hamper it mightily. The trick is not overthinking it, picking one, and then executing it faster than they can finish their spell. Which is where I fail.”
“Stop doing that then,” Milo responded decisively.
“You make it sound so simple. Just stop overthinking…”
“Well, ‘tis. All you need to do is focus on one. Stop trying to do ‘tall.”
Fallon sat quiet for a moment, thinking. His view on casting was always trying to be agile and having options. But that also often meant he would run into decision paralysis. He mulled it over in his head a few times before finally responding, “You know what, I’m going to try that. I’m going to pick a single path and use it the whole duel today and see what happens. It can't be worse than the past few times since every one of those was a last place finish. And before you ask I don't just mean last in my group. I mean last. We are all placed in rankings based on how long we survive, the amount of damage dealt and stopped, and innovation we may use. I tend to be a quick target for others to gain points on.”
Laughing, Milo responded, “Stop doing that too then.”
Despite lingering on the thought of how he came in last the previous battles, Milo’s straightforward nature made him laugh. “I’ll try that too I guess, since today is the day to try a new theory.”
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Sillenestra sat at the table in a dimly lit room. She was slightly tense, but she always felt a bit nervous while waiting for the master to arrive. She studied the wood grain in the table, then the flickering of the lamp light, and even the stone walls around her. When she thought that perhaps she had come too early and a well of panic began to arise, she heard the creak of the door as it opened from across the room.
A robed figure entered, closing the door behind. The bulky figure slowly made its way across the room, setting a large orb onto the table. Before sitting the figure made a number of gestures and spoke cryptic words toward the orb, which lit up in a bright blue before fading back to show the proving grounds.
“The scrying orb, master?”
“Indeed,” the figure said with a gravely male voice. “It is the best way for us to observe while not being observed. Being a mage of considerable power has its benefits. As does having a mole within the Octants who helps us to bypass their scrying countermeasures.”
“That's brilliant, master.” Sillenestra replied.
“Do not grovel,” the master countered commandingly. “It does not suit you well.”
Sillenestra bit her lip to keep from openly cursing. “Yes, master,” is all she could muster back to him.
The master sat watching the orb for a few moments before reopening the conversation. “Were you able to meet with our acquaintance?”
Nodding, Sillenestra responded, “Yes, I was with him this morning. He is in my debt again, just as you planned. Everything continues to fall into place.”
“Perfect. Let us continue down this path, though I have many different avenues that we may follow. You will be instrumental in any of those paths that I choose to traverse. Make sure you are ready at any time.”
“Yes, master.”
The man leaned forward slightly, his hood brushing back enough to reveal a wicked grin. “For now, let us watch the remaining matches. It will be essential to know everyone's strengths and weaknesses in battle. Especially as we hand pick those who will aid in our cause.”
A shiver ran down Sillenestra’s spine and she hid it as best she could.
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Milo stepped into the proving grounds, a timid sluggishness to his movements, as he avoided making eye contact with any of his three opponents. Fallon had given him a quick rundown of each of them and their strengths and weaknesses before he was called into the grounds. There were a multitude of things to watch for, especially certain tendencies that each exhibited when casting, that he had been clued in to look for. But the most important part of the conversation to Milo was the information on how Fallon viewed magic and those that he would consider to be the most dangerous.
The silly bugger hasn’t actually seen someone use both power and control simultaneously in a way that matters yet. None of these filthy initiates have come close to understanding how to make magic work for you and not the other way around. Not even most of the oh so powerful Octant members truly understand using the magical webs correctly, they just go through the practiced motions and words. For this being the forefront school in magic, I thought they would have a clue what they were doing and I could at least learn something. What an embarrassment. I guess all of their knowledge was lost during the Shade Era, much like the rest of the world. Pity. It would have been enjoyable to at least find a challenge while I am here.
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The area shimmered, signaling that the battle was about to commence. Milo shifted and pushed onto the balls of his feet, ready to move immediately when the command was given that would release them from their place. He felt the sheer power of the enchantments that kept the magic from being cast, as if it was a large wet blanket that was covering him totally and keeping all of his power beneath. The feeling was familiar to him from his training with a different master mage who had put him through a gauntlet of things, including being able to know how to recognize and overcome even the most subtle of magic dampening spells. This, however, was nowhere near subtle.
Feeling the pressure easing, Milo began to slowly whisper the words to a spell to ramp up his power. He kept his hands hidden from view while he slowed the movement of his fingers to drag out the casting time, attempting to time it just right to complete it just after the enchantment officially dropped. He finally looked up as the blanket was almost removed and scanned for the person that Fallon had said was the best of the group - the frail middle aged man with a bald spot, brown eyes, and a scar across his cheek.
You’re mine.
As the magical protections dropped everyone began to put their initial casts in place. A caster with an affinity for nature began to weave a spell to pull small chunks of stone from the ground and put it into orbit around him as a layer of protection. One that was from the clerical school was casting a spell to ask the gods for additional physical power. That is all but the bald man with the scar. He attempted to move his body but it was stuck in place.
“Far too slow, and you're far too ugly to continue,” a voice said in his head. “But for now my little puppet, you will just stand there and await your fate. Now sit, dog.”
The mage sat down as quickly as he could, but did so in the position that a dog would take when told to sit. A gasp ran through the crowd that was watching the event, most of which weren’t sure what was happening but they knew it was unprecedented. Usually the spectacle would begin about fifteen seconds in but this had taken almost not time at all. And the action was so out of the ordinary that the other competitors also seemed to pause and consider what they were seeing.
That slight pause was enough for Milo to complete the final needed components to his second cast. He pressed his hand down to the ground and a circular ring of deep purple light enveloped it. Small runes formed within the circle and as he pulled his hand away, a creature seemed to climb into existence from another dimension. The creature, while not large in stature, had wickedly sharp teeth and claws, leathery wings, and a tail that ended in a deep black spike. It smiled a devilish grin, then licked its tongue against its teeth. All the while Milo continued to cast another spell as everyone in the crowd looked on in shock.
The clerical apprentice sneered after he finished his cast and realized that a demon was now in play. “You dare to summon an imp into this realm of existence?!” he screamed while pointing directly toward Milo.
“No, fool,” Milo began, “I dare to summon three.” With the final hand movements he clapped his hands together then slammed them both to the ground. As they struck, the same purple rings formed and the deep purple light and runes began to form. Milo’s muscles tensed as he held his arms in place and when he looked up toward the cleric it was with a hint of euphoria in his eyes. He laughed as he moved his hands slowly away from the circles, drawing the imps from the dark void beneath.
“You’re mad!” the cleric screamed back. “This is absolute madness.”
“I haven’t even begun to show you madness, you filthy swine,” Milo responded. He then switched and began to speak in a different tongue to the demonic creatures. The speech was short but what was said was clear enough to the imps, who shot off toward the cleric. They quickly weaved in and out along their way, as the cleric pushed back on his heels and readied himself for the attack.
All the while the crowd and the final competitor stared in silence at the events that were unfolding in front of them. Not one of them had ever seen a competitor use demonic magic while in the proving grounds and this newcomer had not only used it but looked to be more than just a simple apprentice. The sheer power to do everything he was doing was almost unheard of amongst many levels of the Octant. Even the mages presiding over the day's battles found themselves surprised by the actions.
Each second that passed where his opponents were held in check was another that Mlo used to his advantage. With one person completely under his control and the other busy trying to fend off the imps, he turned his attention to the mage who was standing with his mouth completely agape. Milo began another cast though this one was slow and methodical. He watched the eyes of his prey as he focused his casting, green eyes that were transfixed on the imps tearing into the cleric. Those same eyes that showed exactly what he was looking for, which was the thread of fear.
When Milo found that fear, his own eyes widened in anticipation and a mischievous grin plastered itself to his face. He continued his long spellcasting, each moment building more pleasure within him with the knowledge that his masterpiece of a spell was being unleashed. And it was even more of a rush for him knowing that the poor mage in training wasn't even aware enough to see it coming. And then, twenty long seconds after he had begun, the spell was complete and released into the proving grounds.
The spellcasting ending didn’t create any colors or shapes in the air, nor did it make a sound. But when the spell was completed, the nature mage’s attention was suddenly pulled away from the other competitors and instead his head swung from right to left and there was a hint of panic in his motions. He immediately began a low level cast and within a few seconds a gust of air shot out from his hand. He did so again and again in different directions and each time he did so it was becoming more sloppy and haphazard. Then he suddenly began to scream and swung his arms wildly through the air, though none of the spectators were able to see any kind of threat near him.
Meanwhile, Milo strode over to the mage who was frozen in place and sat down on the ground, cross legged, next to him. He sighed and admired his work. The nature mage was quite literally fighting against his own worst nightmare, which to Milo appeared like some version of a swarm of giant wasp like things.The cleric was taking slash after slash from the imps, though he was able to dole out a kick or two. Unfortunately for him, the demon’s harassment was fast and targeted and each one was continually slowing down any spellcasting he could perform. To add to his difficulties, he was unarmed otherwise, per the battle grounds rules. And the last apprentice was sitting there, still held in check by Milo’s command spell that would continue to be in place for another minute.
“Isn’t this just the most beautiful site?” he said, with no hint of an accent at all. “Each of you is able to first hand witness what true power actually looks like. It’s not the nonsense that the Octant tries to push off as power. But real true demonic energy.”
Turning to the mage, he could see fear touch his eyes.
Milo’s voice turned to a whisper as he began, “Eyes show so much. Your eyes, for example, show me that you fear what I might do right now. But don’t fret. I don’t plan on doing anything terrible to you. In fact I have a message from Al’Rok Thorin for you and she was very explicit in her command to not harm you more than necessary.” He paused and watched the mage’s eyes shift to recognition, then to an even deeper fear. When he saw that the name had hit its mark, he spoke again, “Continue to keep your end of the bargain and your family will remain safe. Otherwise we may need to pay them a visit and allow them to also witness some shows of power. Though unlike here in the proving grounds, the power does have a tendency to do more than just cause mental or physical anguish. I hope you understand my meaning.”
With his message delivered, Milo now waited. The druid had lasted longer than he believed against the nightmarish barrage, but was now crying within a stasis bubble. The cleric showed the signs of damage all across his face and arms from the bites and slashes of the imps and was continuing to become more and more sluggish in his motions. It was only a matter of a short time until he would also end up in a stasis bubble.
“The cleric will fall soon.” he lamented out loud. “He underperformed my expectations. He should have at least been able to dispatch one of the three imps. Perhaps two if he got lucky. Though it was inevitable that he too would lose this battle.”
Milo took in the final sights of the proving grounds and looked out at the shocked faces of those in attendance witnessing his glorious battle. He noticed that the Octant members were the only ones who seemed extremely flustered by all of this as they were arguing amongst themselves in what he could only draw conjecture on. And then his eyes locked on to those bright amber ones from the intriguing mage that would be fighting in the next battles.
Fallon sees it. He keeps scanning across the battlefield and he seems to be able to see or sense where my lines of magic are. He is the only one in the crowd acting that way. And though he may not have put it all together yet, he looks to be someone who actually understands that magic is something of being a puppeteer. That… that is truly astounding given the lack of talent I have seen here otherwise. Perhaps my time here will not be a complete waste. This is… useful.
The tendrils of magic to the mage gave the slightest tug, signaling to Milo that his spell would soon fade. He turned back to the man and said, “Stand up, now.”
The man’s body obeyed the command, standing up without having any control over his own body. Despite what the mage had said to him, he still feared what may happen next. He had just watched the mage soundly beat two of the better apprentices with very little effort, and he also knew this was a disciple of Al’Rok Thorin, a person who was not known for her mercy.
“I am truly sorry for this San’Daleb. But there is no way you would be able to convince people you were able to defeat me by throwing your magic against mine. So it is time for me to accidentally take a loss here.” Milo strode next to him and continued, “Being that I am new and all, I can feign ignorance about the process.” As the last words slid from his lips, he let go of his control and backhanded the mage with all his strength.
San’Daleb’s head snapped to the side and propelled his body with it.. His ears immediately screamed with a loud pitched sound and his vision swam as he felt his body falling to the ground. Even with his vision slightly off, he still caught a glimpse of a self satisfied grin from the competitor who had just struck him as he was falling to the ground. And then the world went black.