MITCHELL – AGE 17 – MARAGON’S TOWER, NEAR GARET, KLYDOR

25TH MORHEL, EARLY WINTER, 843 PBM

Mitchell knelt on his favourite silver, metallic mat. But not in the usual spot where most of his tests took place. Tonight he and his mat were on the highest level of the tower, next to the giant magickal apparatus that operated the Star-Gate.

Large mechanical arms, with chains, pulleys and gears were interconnected around the circular wall that made up this large chamber, the largest in the Tower, and one that occupied the entire upper floor. Tonight the roof was open, allowing a beautiful of the night sky and the myriad of stars that looked down over Driax.

The Star-Gate, with its round arch and strange runes etched into a framework of wood and steel, was thankfully closed and just sat dormant near the middle of the chamber.

Mitchell was feeling pretty good. He knew today was to be the final test of what constituted the traditional Ashar training. After today, in Ashar society, he would no longer be an apprentice, and would be considered a wizard in his own right. He had long since discussed with Maragon if this meant he had to leave the tower, and had already been told he was welcome to stay and continue to work with Maragon as long as he wished. He knew he wanted to stay, so he had no nerves on that front.

Today he had to show he could juggle the tasks of casting offensive and defensive magicks at the same time. It was the final test for any wizard with aspirations of a role in any kind of combat field. He felt a level of anxiety about the test, as he always did. But he also felt confident he had the skills required to complete this test. He had studied hard, and his reward was a growing competence in all of the magick disciplines.

Mitchell was not sure had he truly being studying under the Ashar that he would have pursued a casting discipline that included an active combat role, but under Maragon, and his specialised training course, those were the only disciplines ever offered to him.

Of the choices he had been given, he had been torn between trying to be like Maragon - a true War Wizard - or one of the other more support oriented combat casters such as the divination and reconnaissance focused Arcane Eyes, or the Shields, who’s primary role was to nullify any magickal influence the opponent might have.

He had tried to make Maragon proud by selecting War Wizard, but in his heart he very much doubted he had been trained with the purity of that actual calling. He was borderline capable with his martial skills, but he was no expert. True War Wizards would have had a great deal more tests based around their martial prowess in this final year of study, and Mitchell suspected he would fail some of those.

In the end, his training he suspected, sat somewhere in between all three. Mitchell suspected his use of divination magick was probably stronger than you would teach a pure War Wizard, and his skills at detecting and defeating magick he felt must be stronger than what the War Wizard would know. Maragon has particularly complimentary of his skills in this area.

His knowledge across all the spheres of magick was almost certainly better than a War Wizard, who simply did not have the need to learn so diversely across all the spheres of magick. For a combat heavy role there were some spheres, such as elemental or protection magicks, which were clearly far more beneficial, so they would specialise in those at the expense of competency in others. Mitchell could proudly claim at least base competence with all the allowed Spheres of magick.

He tried to clear his mind, practicing what were now quite well-known routines to relax both his mind and body. He still felt anxiety at times, but he was getting much better now at controlling it.

The thick door to the stone chamber opened, and Maragon came through with Samtha in tow. Mitchell smiled even more. He always liked it when Samtha visited. With her partially shaven head, long coloured hair, and wild collection of jewellery, she was very different to the kind of person you found in Garet.

“Hello, Sugar!” she said in her distinctive drawl.

“What reason brings you to us today?” Mitchell asked. “Do you have some insight to teach me which might help with my next exam?” Mitchell said ‘next’ because he didn’t really like saying ‘final’. He did not really want anything of his current life to change or end.

“When you pass this test, Honey, we are going to go into town and celebrate. Perhaps see if we can’t get you to dance and sing, and live a little. Maybe even find you a girl to cuddle.” Mitchell loved the sound of all of that. Although the last part also made him anxious and self-conscious. He loved Samtha. There was always such energy and a spark to the half-elf Bard. She brightened every room just by being in it.

“Perhaps we should focus on actually passing the test first, hmm?” suggested Maragon with a slightly stern tone. “Mitchell, you have more than enough skill with magick to pass this test. Whether you do or not will simply come down to discipline and mental application.”

Maragon took on an air of seriousness and formality, and moved to his own mat. He looked at Mitchell and indicated it was time to start.

“This final test is one where you show your ability to successfully cast both offensive and defensive spells at the same time,” explained Maragon. “Samtha is here because this test is always overseen by multiple judges to reduce impartiality. Samtha will conjure the image of an opposing wizard. I will then proceed to attack you with a series of spells as though I were that wizard. You must successfully defeat my spells and destroy the conjured image.”

‘Keep your mind clear. You have done this plenty of times now. It’s a little like taking a breath in the middle of singing a long song. You use that small break to cast the defensive spell, then pick back up the threads of your original spell and continue weaving.’

Mitchell had studied much about what this final test would be, so he was already mentally preparing himself, and only partially listening to Maragon’s actual words.

“Importantly, as you have trained hard with your martial skills, you may undertake this test in either of two forms,” continued Maragon.

Mitchell broke from his concentration as his mind processed those last words. ‘This is not how it goes!’

“What?” Mitchell asked, the confusion plain on his face. Maragon smiled slightly.

“I am not training you to be an Ashar wizard. So my tests are not the same,” Maragon explained.

“Who needs rules! Rules are for losers and simpletons with no initiative or creativity,” exclaimed Samtha enthusiastically.

Maragon turned a glare towards her.

“Rules and discipline are the hallmarks of a good Wizard,” retorted Maragon. “But Mitchell will face threats of both a mundane and magick nature. There will be times he will encounter foes with superior magickal skills to his own. Having the ability to put those foes into a disadvantage by engaging them martially could be the difference between victory and defeat. So my final test will provide Mitchell with that same choice.”

Maragon turned his head back towards Mitchell, and smiled encouragingly. “You may choose to face this final test as a pure caster, or as a martially trained wizard. In the case of the latter, your conjured opponent will also have martial skills, and you must decide how best to defeat him, combining or choosing between martial or magickal means of attack. The only requirement to pass the test is that you cast at least one defensive and one offensive spell at the same time at some point during the duel, and that you destroy the opponent before he registers what I deem to be a serious blow.”

Mitchell carefully considered his response.

‘I am pretty confident my magick skills are superior to my martial skills at this stage. So I should choose a purely magickal test. But why have I been pushing myself so hard to learn the martial skills if I do not use them now? Abandon them now, and I likely abandon them at any moment of crisis, and I just become a wizard who carries a meaningless and heavy sword around with him.’

“I choose to fight a duel consisting of both martial and magickal components. I feel my chances of succeeding in this test are slightly higher if I choose the magick only test, but I am committed to learning both paths, with a goal of mastering both as you have,” Mitchell replied, bowing his head towards Maragon.

Maragon failed to suppress a grin. Both Samtha and Mitchell could see the look of pride in his eyes as Mitchell announced his decision, and his reasons for doing so.

“Very well,” he replied. “Mitchell, please take up your weapon.” Maragon held out Mitchell’s scabbarded katana.

Mitchell stood and drew the light, yet razor-sharp blade from its lacquered scabbard. He went and stood behind his mat, and tried to calm his mind and regain his focus.

“Samtha, as we discussed, please conjure your warrior,” instructed Maragon. “I suggest a Cthrag Merlo clansman.”

“Any special clan?” she asked, a mild sense of mockery in her voice.

“I don’t see how that makes any difference,” replied the ever-logical Maragon.

Samtha took out her lute and strummed a few notes, singing several lines of harmonic words at the same time.

“Et de mundo mentis suae, Coranthunum vocatum militem”

(And from the world of his mind, Coranthun summoned a warrior)

“Bellator fuit Merlo Clans, Ursus aureus in corde suo”

(A warrior of the Merlo Clans it was, with a Golden Bear upon its heart)

“Cuius iussione quam fideli custodia fecit.”

(And his bidding it did do, as faithfully as an honoured guard)

Mitchell always marvelled at how beautiful it was to watch Samtha cast her magick. Maragon disdained the inefficiency, and how much slower her musical methods of casting were than his purely practical style, but Mitchell liked it, and appreciated its beauty and its differences.

Magickal energies consisting primarily of many hues of purple, with a scattering of other colours, began to form around Samthe. As he song continued, the energies swirled into a small maelstrom, and after a few seconds the maelstrom of purple energy dispersed and a chain-mail clad Merlo clansman was standing where a few short moments ago the maelstrom had been.

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At a quick glance, it looked just like a real human warrior, complete with the requisite powerful stocky build of a Merlo warrior, the Golden Bear emblazoned on his white tabard, and a bastard sword in one hand, keeping its 2nd hand free so it could pretend to cast.

But if you looked carefully there were hints this was a magickal construct. Its eyes had a purple hue that was unnatural. If you looked carefully as it moved, you could occasionally see flashes of purple within its appearance.

Ha! The image is clearly meant to look a little like a younger Maragon, complete with his Golden Bears armour.

Maragon seemed unmoved by the image. Mitchell was not even sure he noticed. Seeing Maragon remain serious reminded Mitchell he needed to do the same.

‘Regardless of who it looks like, if I hit this thing hard enough, it will shatter and dissolve into nothing, making it easier to kill than a real person.’

“Let me know when you are ready to proceed,” instructed Maragon.

Mitchell looked at him. He smiled encouragingly. Mitchell looked to Samtha. She was still playing and singing softly, which Mitchell presumed was how she was controlling the magickal construct, but she smiled too. He returned his focus to the construct, or as he needed to see it, his opponent.

“May I cast Sense Channelling before we begin?” Mitchell asked.

“You may cast one enchantment of your choice. We will assume you had cast this already before the encounter begins,” replied Maragon. “What enchantment will you choose?”

Mitchell considered briefly changing his mind and casting something which might enhance his martial abilities. He could make himself slightly faster, or slightly stronger. He could enchant his blade with an element such as fire or ice, increasing the lethality of the wounds he might inflict. But in the end, he was still a stronger caster than he was a martial fighter.

‘As Maragon has always said, ‘Better to enhance your strengths and use those, rather than buff a weakness your opponent may not be able to exploit’.

“I will cast Sense Channelling,” Mitchell replied. “Better to enhance my strengths and try to win with that than worry about a weakness that may not be exploited.”

Maragon smiled again. Mitchell was happy his answers were pleasing to his mentor and father. He cast his spell, and quickly refocused on the test and his opponent.

Maragon went and stood behind the magickal construct. Mitchell reasoned that was so he could cast from behind it and make it seem more like it was the construct that was actually doing the casting.

Mitchell focused on his Sense Channelling and the movements of the construct, to see whether it would attack with magick or blade first. As he suspected, ‘it’ began to cast, and the obvious red and yellow swirls of fire energy began to appear around the construct.

Mitchell instinctively reacted and began to cast a water shield spell.

“Clypeo aquarum voco”

(I call forth a shield of water)

Mitchell felt the strength in his spell weave, and felt confident his spell would hold against the Orb of fire he could see the construct finishing. The construct waited a few seconds, and then threw the burning orb at Mitchell. His shield moved in front of it, and for a brief moment the water and fire fought, with a hiss and brief puff of smoke. And then the flaming orb was gone.

Mitchell was watching to see what Maragon would do next, when he remembered two things about this test. He needed to defeat this construct, not just resist his attacks. He also needed to demonstrate he could cast and defend at the same time. Mitchell almost laughed at himself. He was always so cautious and defensive, that he almost forgot to attack back.

Mitchell began to cast an attack spell of his own. He chose lightning as in a real fight it would be a great attack versus someone in heavy metal armours. The lightning would in most cases ignore the metal armour, and would penetrate through to the wearer underneath.

“Vim fulguris appello”

(I call forth the power of lightning)

He watched for signs of a second attack. It was difficult to do both, and he suspected the spell weave he would end up with from his lightning spell was not as precise as it could have been.

Maragon waited until the moment Mitchell had begun to cast his spell, and then began to quickly cast a quite simple lightning Shock spell. The Shock spell did not do a lot of damage compared to other lightning spells, but it was fast to cast, short range, and the sudden burst of electrical energy would often stun the opponent, perhaps breaking his concentration on a spell he might be casting.

Mitchell tried his best to leave his original lightning attack spell in a reasonable state, and quickly tried to cast a defensive shield to block the income Shock. In some regards Maragon had done him a favour using a Lightning spell, as Mitchell had already been gathering lightning energy in for his attack spell. He used some of this energy to quickly weave the shield and had it ready for whenever the attack came.

“Clypeum fulguris voco”

(I call forth a shield of lightning)

Mitchell waited the few seconds it took for Maragon to launch the Shock spell, clearly much slower than he could have released it, but Mitchell assumed the test had built in times under which they expected an apprentice to be able to complete his spells.

His shield intercepted the Shock spell much faster than the human eye could have seen or reacted to the lightning itself. There was a reasonably loud thunderclap as the lightning bolt hit the lightning shield and both dissipated in flash of sparks. Mitchell waited until he was sure the Shock was entirely defeated, before he returned his focus to his own attack spell.

The thread of his spell had deteriorated while he neglected it, so he spent precious seconds fixing the weave. He could see Maragon had waited a few seconds, and was now preparing to cast another spell, which looked like it was going to be an Air spell of some variety.

Mitchell decided to quickly finish his own spell, then cast his defence, estimating he should have time to do it that way rather than put his own spell on hold again, and risk the whole thread collapsing and having to start again.

“Et in hasta fingo”

(And into a spear I do shape it)

He concentrated on being both precise and fast, but in reality, the need for haste won out, and Mitchell knew the weave was not perfect. But he hoped it was good enough to hold together. When it was finished he grabbed the strands of magickal energy that made up his lightning spear and he propelled it at the conjured Merlo warrior.

He watched with hope that his attack would end the test, but had the presence of mind to start channelling Air magick himself, drawing some of the energy from the cool, night breeze, for an Air shield.

Maragon cast a lightning shield of his own, and with another thunderclap, Mitchell’s lightning attack met the same ineffective fate as Maragon’s initial attack.

Mitchell focused now on his Air Shield. He completed it, and waited for Maragon’s completed air attack to come. As was often the case with Air spells, there was no obvious spell signature like a spear or a sword to see what it was. In this case Mitchell assumed it was probably a blast designed more to knock him over, or otherwise unbalance him and perhaps disrupt his spell. But whatever its intention, the blast of air met his Air barrier, and his defensive spell won out.

‘I am being too defensive. Maragon has cast three attacking spells, and I have cast only one. So do I try to cast more spells, or try to move into melee?’

‘Treat the test like it was real. That is a Merlo clan warrior. There is no way I would engage that in melee by choice - so spells it is.’

Maragon was now channelling another fire spell. Mitchell started channelling water. He would use it to make both an attack and a defensive action. He just focused on drawing in as much water energy as he could. He watched Maragon’s spell carefully to determine exactly what it might be, and he saw three small darts of fire forming. Mitchell used a little more of his water energy for the defensive spell than he had planned, and weaved three tiny shields to counter each of the fiery darts.

The three darts all bounced harmlessly off his water shields, although he noted the 3rd one had nearly broken through the shield.

Mitchell now shaped his water spell into an Ice Arrow, the water energy rapidly turning into ice as he did so. He threw the Ice Arrow at the Merlo image. As expected, Maragon cast a Fire Shield. For the briefest of moments it looked like his arrow might punch through the shield, but the Fire Shield held, and Mitchell’s arrow was burned away, with only a few drops of water striking the Merlo image.

One advantage Mitchell had with the way he had played this test so far was that casting defensive magick was a lot easier than casting offensive magick. Assuming the rules of this duel had an opponent of about the same experience as Mitchell, then his opponent should only likely have one to two more spells he could cast before he would be exhausted. Any further casting after that risked going unconscious, rupturing something within yourself, or even death.

It seemed Maragon had come to a similar conclusion. He said something to Samtha that Mitchell could not quite make out, and the image began to move towards him, brandishing its large sword menacingly.

‘I suspect in the pure magickal version of this test, if you cast enough attacks and defences successfully the opponent ‘runs out’ of magickal reserves and your next attack wins. But I have given my opponent other options, and now he can just move in and attack me. Maragon will likely reduce this one’s number of spells to reflect additional martial training. I suspect that means he either has no spells left or perhaps one. And Maragon will likely use whatever reserves are left to cast defensive spells.’

Mitchell’s mind quickly considered and calculated different options. He found one he liked.

‘Ok. I think I have an idea to counter this.’

Mitchell had now drawn in quite a large amount of water energy. More than enough for a simple attack spell, but he suddenly had a different idea.

He slowly backed up, increasing how much time he had to cast before the image reached him.

Maragon also used this extra time, and the image began to cast something with fire. Mitchell watched the spell carefully through his Sense Channelling, and he recognised the gestures and spell signatures for this spell – Enchant Flame. Maragon was casting fire onto the image’s blade, or at least was simulating he had for the purposes of the duel.

Mitchell ignored the spell and let it be cast. Firstly, for the duel it likely made no difference. If the sword hit a decent blow, Mitchell probably failed the test anyway. Secondly, Mitchell was not planning to ever get into melee.

Mitchell waited until the image was only a few metres away and then he released the magick from his water spell. His magickal energy coalesced into a large amount of water which Mitchell splashed onto the ground around the image. And then Mitchell snapped the water into ice.

The construct’s feet were now covered in a thin layer of ice which at least temporarily trapped it. The ice was not thick enough to prevent the construct breaking its feet out, but the ice would remain treacherous to stand on, or to try and move through.

Mitchell immediately began casting his next spell – an Air Blast, very similar to the one Maragon had cast at him. But Mitchell hadn’t been standing on a puddle of ice, with his feet trapped.

The construct broke one foot out of the ice, but very nearly lost its footing doing so. Unable to dodge or even move yet, Maragon started to cast a defensive spell to protect against the air attack.

Mitchell completed his spell and threw both hands forward to propel the Air blast at his target. Maragon had the image raise his Air Shield. And the Air Shield stopped the Air Blast. What it did not stop was the sword in the middle of the Air Blast, which punched through the Air Shield and then into the construct behind it.

The image shattered as it was hit and dissolved into nothing.

The thrown blade only lost some of its momentum with that impact and kept sailing towards Maragon.

Mitchell’s joy at seeing the image shatter was suddenly replaced with concern he may kill his mentor. Maragon was truly surprised to see the sword flying towards him. He did not manage to cast any defensive spell or dodge before the blade reached his abdomen.

And then the sword bounced harmlessly to the ground, a metallic clatter as it bounced across the stone floor.

Maragon’s look of surprise was replaced with a look of pride as he looked at Mitchell.

“You have passed the test. And very well, I might add,” Maragon stated.

“I am sorry about throwing my blade at you, I was so engrossed in the duel I kind of forgot you were standing behind the image,” said Mitchell apologetically.

“You do not need to apologise. I had foreseen the possibility that either myself or Samtha could be targeted accidentally by magick during this duel,” explained Maragon. “I had already cast a magickal ward on both of us which would trigger in that event and disrupt your spell. You should always have a contingency plan in place for the expected unexpected.”

Samtha moved forwards and gave Mitchell a big enthusiastic hug with her lean half-elven frame.

“You are growing up,” she beamed. “You are now a fully trained wizard!”

“I do not think I am fully trained. I suspect Maragon has a great deal more training he has in store for me. And I will be grateful to receive it,” Mitchell replied humbly.

Maragon smiled again.

“Sure, Honey. But for tonight, we take you to town and we celebrate this special occasion. Go and put on your coolest clothes. Then I will come in and make you look even cooler before we head out.”

Maragon confirmed it was okay for him to leave. Mitchell excitedly gathered his things and left the room.

He punched the air with excitement the moment he was out of the room. Today felt amazing.