CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE—MAGIC IN THE VOID
Realizing as he neared the disturbance, Darius found that the two spirits here in the void were not of the jinni, which meant that he had not found Jessamine.
And then he came upon them.
Darius al Hassarani’s eyes widened.
“Who are you?” the black-skinned man asked.
The other, the strange foreigner—Shiro!—narrowed his eyes.
Without bothering to communicate with them, Darius drew massively on his magical reserves and hurled a pulsing ball of purple magic directly at Shiro that would wipe him from the void and leave his body a mindless husk wherever it lay.
With widening eyes, Shiro flinched.
“Shiro! Look out!”
Debaku moved in front of him and countered the magical attack with another similar conjuring of magic, though there was a distinct difference to the way they felt.
Shiro could tell they were of an even match.
Here in the void, he could feel things differently. He didn’t need to see the magic—he felt it, in his mind.
The energies collided and burst, a massive shockwave of bright pale light pushing him away.
Flipping end over end, he willed himself to stop, and finally he did, his eyes unable to meet the stranger who had just arrived, since he was barely visible.
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The shockwave had pushed them apart.
Enraged that his attack had been thwarted by the black, Darius snarled. Who was that Mar’a Thulian to stop him, the sultan of the Abassir Empire!
Moving forward at great speed, he summoned more of his magic and hurled it forth in beams of light.
Surely Shiro’s ally would not be able to withstand him.
And yet, he summoned a shield of energy, protecting himself and Shiro, his beams deflecting off into the void.
Darius screamed in frustration.
They’re here… looking for her!
He would break that barrier and obliterate them!
Summoning more magic, the Mar’a Thulian broke off with his defense and came at Darius. He was surprised when the man lunged at him fist-to-fist, his knuckles carrying magical force, giving him the look of a fighter with glowing hands that streaked in the night.
Darius could fight in the same manner.
As he dodged his attacker’s assaults, his own hands and feet lit up and he lashed out, their fists and feet flashing, coming into contact with one another.
At first Darius had retreated, then he had pushed forward, his knkuckles flying back and forth as he attempted to punch this insolent warrior out of existence.
Shiro watched, eyes wide, unable to assist Debaku or even do something similar. Here in the void, a place utterly unfamiliar to him, he was like a babe placed in an environment he wasn’t used to.
Swallowing hard, all he could do was watch as Debaku, first attacking, was now on the defensive. The speed at which they moved and the streaking magic made them look like angry spirits in a brawling match.
Except neither of them was getting hit.
Each man, Debaku and the stranger, were evidentially equally matched!
Shiro flinched as the two fighters broke apart and then—with a bright flash of surging magic—flung themselves forward.
When they collided, it was as if a mountain had burst, the rocks and debris bright flaming fireballs, the center of the explosion so hot, Shiro had to cover his eyes.
When he came to, he found that he was far away.
As the fight between them raged on, bright flashes and undulating lines of magic cut the sky.
“Kuso!” he screamed, cursing his inability to do anything while here in the void.
I am out of my depth.