Chapter 7: Other People’s Duels

The next few weeks, he mostly spent his free time reading books that would be embarrassing for anyone to see him read—they were the children’s version of basic magic— and the rest of the time, he spent planning his clandestine operation to sneak past the guards at the bridge to the Forest of Whispers. Or, rather, trying to figure out what the guard shift hours were.

Cassian wasn’t a wily assassin type, nor a thief. That was for sure. It seemed like the guards were always changing at random times, and even if he figured out the pattern, it’s not like the bridge was ever unoccupied during a shift change. He was just trying to do something he saw in a movie.

He’d asked Gareth if there was any way, and he’d only looked at him funny for a while before shrugging and suggesting that one could potentially get there through the Crystal Caverns.

Upon investigating, the Crystal Caverns were also guarded around the clock.

He considered asking Gareth to let him take a look at that door in the Alchemist’s lab. The one with the iron tree on the door. But he discarded the idea. The last thing he wanted to do was get shredded by the rift there—Isolde had made it perfectly clear how stupid an idea that was. He would need to ask Aria about the door’s connection to her. But to do that, he needed to figure out a way to get to her in the first place.

Class had been somewhat different than before. He was occasionally more aware of magic than other times, and twice he had succeeded in producing a light. He hadn’t gotten any more plants to obey him since the incident.

Isolde had become more familiar and open to him, and he was beginning to suspect she had a crush on him. Cassian did not know what to do with that. But it was nice to be admired, and she was becoming very pleasant company. He still turned her down any time she asked to hang out after class. Cassian needed to focus. And rush to make it to the dinner gruel that was served at the cafeteria where all the poor students went to eat. The food wasn’t that great. He got the feeling that was intentional. He knew she probably wouldn’t care if he was broke, but he didn’t want Isolde to see him like that. At least Gareth had loaned him some clothes so he didn’t stink.

Lyra avoided him. Every time he got close to try and talk, she gave him her back and stormed off angry in the other direction. Rumors started going around that he had done something horrible to the professor. And maybe he had.

Today, he had Alchemy class.

The classroom was filled with the scent of various herbs and chemicals, a mixture that made Cassian’s nose twitch. Professor Argus Eldritch, a diminutive man with long earlobes and a pristine white goatee, stood atop his desk to compensate for his stature. His small figure was quite the sight against the vast blackboard behind him.

“Class, pay attention as we delve into the principles of equivalent exchange in alchemy,” Professor Eldritch announced, his voice surprisingly strong for such a small figure. His familiar, a sleek, silver fox with piercing blue eyes, began writing on the blackboard in elegant script. The creature used some kind of levitation magic rather than its hands to hold the chalk or hand the professor anything he needed before he even asked for it. Of course, levitation magic made sense since the fox had no thumbs.

He had an inkling that familiar magic was a clue he should follow up on at some point to his condition. He would have to take the professor aside and ask him.

Cassian sat next to Isolde, staring blankly at his notes. The principles of alchemy sounded oddly familiar, reminiscent of an anime he couldn’t quite recall—a boy with a metal arm, perhaps? His mind wandered, struggling to focus.

“Cassian,” Isolde whispered, nudging him gently. “Are you okay? You seem distracted.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Just frustrated. This all feels...familiar, but it’s not like I can make use of it. Magic circles and the sacred geometry is alien. I can’t read runes, and even when I find one in the reference text, it has so many variable meanings I could be reading ‘the baby’s bottom is blue’ when it actually says ‘turn the knob all the way to the left’ or something.”

Isolde laughed. It was a nice laugh if he thought about it. “I doubt there are runes that refer to a baby’s bottom. Hmm…On second thought, there could be. Why not?”

“Exactly. It’s the science of ambiguity.”

Isolde nodded sympathetically. Then she changed tack. “I’ve noticed you’ve been down lately.”

“Yeah...”

“Maybe you need a break?”

“Maybe.”

“Did you hear about the sanctioned duels happening during the lunch hour?”

That sounded interesting. Cassian hadn’t had the chance to watch a duel. That was pure fantasy action right there. He had to go. But before Cassian could respond, Professor Eldritch’s voice cut through the air and felt like a loudspeaker pressed against his ears. When he noticed other students in the class wincing, he realized he wasn’t the only one. The professor didn’t like it when his students got distracted. Then he saw the silver fox huff, and wondered if it wasn’t the familiar who cast the spell.

“Alchemy requires precise understanding and execution.” The Professor continued. “Take, for instance, the transmutation of coal into explosive powder. Both substances share a practical similarity: they produce fire. However, the process must be handled with utmost care.”

The professor lifted a piece of coal and set it into a small alchemical circle drawn on the desk. A brief flash of light later, the coal transformed into a small pile of black powder.

I wonder if they have guns in this world. If they have black powder, it’s not a big step in technology to build a cannon, or to make a bullet. Then again, who needs cannons when you have fireballs?

The professor was really into it now. “See, the semantic similarity aids in the transmutation process, but the practical similarity is what makes for such an easy transmutation. Naturally, beginners should focus on the practical as it will be more reliable.”

Isolde leaned closer to Cassian, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “What do you say we check out that duel after class? We can grab lunch and eat it in the Amphitheatrum Magicae. It’ll be a nice change of pace.”

Cassian realized that she was finally getting him to agree to do something other than classwork. But duels. ‘Nuff said. “Let’s do it.”

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

Isolde beamed. Indeed, Cassian thought, Such a pretty smile.

Professor Eldritch cleared his throat, signaling that he was winding into another one of his infamous wartime stories. “Let me tell you about the dangers of alchemy in the field. During the Battle of the Crimson Vale, in the Grand Alliance War, my unit—the Second Sapper Company—attempted a transmutation under heavy fire. We aimed to create a barrier from the rubble, but the conditions were unstable. The alchemical circle was disrupted and the resulting explosion took the lives of half my unit.”

When he started going into the gory details and describing multiple types of injuries his men suffered, Cassian tuned him out. Everyone had heard similar stories like this before. Nearly every class devolved into one. Each one was tragic, but the repetition dulled their impact. Especially when each one ended with half his unit getting blown up. You’d think they’d learn something. Either the professor was exaggerating or he was very, very lucky to be alive.

He glanced at Isolde. Why was she paying rapt attention when she’s heard it all before as well. Ah, yes. The old spacing out while staring at the teacher trick.

Then came practical application, and once again they were split into groups. And once again the most he got out of it was watching Isolde so focused she failed to notice the coal soot that got on her nose and glasses. He waited until she was finished before letting her know. Every time she pushed up her glasses it just kept getting worse and it was fairly amusing.

When Professor Eldritch dismissed the class, he got the professor alone to ask him about familiars. He wanted to know if familiar contracts—it was a term he’d found in the library and which somewhat resembled what he was experiencing with Lyra—could be made between people.

“It cannot.” Professor Eldritch shut down the idea with a certainty that brooked no argument. “Familiar contracts may only be formed with lower life forms. Two persons may not be bound in such a way. Two conflicting mana cores simply could not coexist.”

Something about the way the professor seemed irritated, borderline angry at the question left Cassian with a feeling that he was leaving something out, but there was nothing else to learn from him now. He thanked the professor and joined Isolde.

Cassian and Isolde stopped by a vendor selling meat pies and grabbed three each. It was one of their favorite meals. They ran into Gareth in line, who said he was heading to the amphitheater as well. ”I’m not missing a chance to see some action. Maybe someone will get their hand blown off. Hey don’t hit me Isolde., It’s not like it’s permanent. They have the best healers.”

The coliseum's towering arches and gleaming marble columns were impressive, but it was the magical wards and shimmering barriers that really caught Cassian's eye. Designed to protect the spectators from stray spells, the barriers sparkled with latent energy, casting a faint glow over the stands.

They found good seats in the front. There were a fair share of students and some faculty watching, but this wasn’t an official match or a tournament. These were dispute settlements. The kind of duels that happened back in the day on Earth. The kind that killed Alexander Hamilton and his son.

Except that these duels were an accepted tradition and supervised, so there was no real risk of serious injury or death.

They munched on their food as the duelists began. The majority of the matches consisted of each participant throwing elemental spells at each other and counterspelling or blocking. It was flashy and plenty entertaining. Cassian didn’t know any of the duelists, so he picked out the one that looked like an underdog and rooted for them.

Then came a match where he did recognize someone. Cassian's attention was drawn to a familiar figure checking his jewelry—rings and bracelets—with a nervous yet determined expression. It was Darian. On the other side of the arena was another student he didn’t recognize.

He looked scared but determined.

Once Darian turned around to face his opponent, whatever he had been feeling before was replaced with arrogance, self importance and anger. It’s amazing how that guy can stand and walk like that to give that impression.

It got worse.

Darian strutted around, like an impatient tiger ready to pounce. And he shouted clichéd taunts that hurt Cassian’s ears. "You're going down, loser! You’re worthless. I will destroy you."

It was the only match where one of the duelists lacked decorum against their opponents, which, Cassian supposed, said a lot about the arrogant boy.

Cassian rolled his eyes when he started shouting that his opponent “didn’t belong at the academy.”

Cassian turned to Isolde and Gareth. "Is he serious? It's like he's read every bad school rival script in the world and decided to smash them together."

Gareth nodded. “Completely lacking in originality.”

Isolde heartily agreed. “And he’s just embarrassing himself. If it weren’t for who his father is, no one would give him the time of day.”

The plot thickens.

“Who’s his father? Some hot shot duke?”

Unsurprising, Isolde nodded. “Something like that. His father is on Eldara’s governing council. He works with my…I mean, worked with my father.”

“I didn’t mean to stir up something. Let's just focus on how cringeworthy Darian is. He’s like Draco Malfoy but less original. He even has silver hair!”

Her eyes scrunched up. “Who’s Draco Malfoy? I’ve never heard of him.”

“He’s just the most spineless bully at Hogwarts. That’s a school of magic where I come from. Very obscure. I’m sure you’ve never heard of it.”

The duel began with a flurry of spells.

Darian's opponent, a demi human dog-person, stood tall and did his best to exude confidence, even as he struggled to match Darian’s ferocity as he launched fire spell after fire spell. The magical exchanges lit up the arena and stirred up clouds of smoke and dust when a stray fireball didn’t get counterspelled, but rather deflected and detonated on the ground.

Interestingly, the ground quickly repaired itself, leaving no evidence anything had happened.

Cassian watched, captivated by the display. "Impressive," he murmured. "I wish I could cast magic at that level already. If only so I could beat up that guy."

Isolde smiled encouragingly. "You're doing a lot better than you think."

Cassian held up a finger, and the tip lit up with a small, flickering light. "Careful, I might hurt you with this thing," he joked. It was the only spell he could conjure reliably. It wasn’t nothing, but it was almost nothing.

Isolde laughed. "It's a start. You'll get there."

In the arena, Darian’s opponent seemed to run out of steam with his shield and counterspells, but then it quickly became clear that he had simply been pulling a rope-a-dope, wearing out his opponent before launching a counterattack. The dog person conjured balls of water that intercepted Darian’s fire. Their frequency started to overwhelm Darian’s barrage. Steam filled the arena with every clash of fire and water, though, fortunately, it wasn’t enough to block the view.

Just when it seemed like Darian would be overwhelmed, Cassian noticed him touch a bracelet on his wrist, which he could swear winked with a red light.

Then Darian spewed a jet of fire so big and hot, spiraling like a sideways firespout, that it melted the ground in its wake. The dog man raised several shields, one behind the other, but the jet of fire melted through each one, without showing any sign of letting up. Just when the jet looked like it would obliterate the last shield, both the firespout and the shield, along with all of the smoke and evidence of their duel suddenly vanished like a movie making a bad cut.

The arbiter of the duel stepped in and with a sound amplifying spell, declared Darian the winner. The dog man’s shoulders drooped, dejected. But he shook it off and righted himself, looking dignified as he crossed over to Darian with his hand outstretched like a good sport.

Except that Darian didn’t take his hand. He was panting hard. Much harder than the dog man who had lost. He looked frustrated and furious. Though he clearly knew the dog man meant to shake his hand, Darian turned and stomped away and out of the arena.

To his credit, the dog man just sighed, thanked the arbiter and left via his own side of the arena.

"Well, that was something," Cassian said, finishing the last bite of his meat pie.