The Wizard Duel

by Kevin Winters

finished the spell he had started when Cecht began his circuit. A billowing flame appeared between his hands, which then formed into a large sphere. It flew forth from his hands and plowed through the teeth Cecht summoned, cancelling the spell.

  Cecht held up his hand before him and conjured a wall of light. The sphere of fire slammed into it and exploded. His shield saved him from the flames, but the power behind Saccius’ spell broke it and lifted him off his feet to send him flying back toward the wall.

  The crowd hushed.

  Only quick thinking saved the boy. He thrust his hands out behind him and condensed the air between the wall and him, slowing his flight until he came to a stop a foot from the wall.

  The audience erupted into cheers. This night was the best show any of them had ever seen.

  Saccius was already into his next spell, having wasted no time after launching the fire sphere. His stone skin cracked and fell to the arena floor in chunks, leaving him vulnerable. Wisps of green smoke poured out of his hands and formed a solid orb that hovered over the ground. It hung in the air for a moment, and then sped off toward Cecht.

  Cecht channeled magic into his ring, which began to pulse with the tide of energy. Saccius’ orb had become a giant hand by the time it reached the scorched wizard. Cecht enacted the spell in his ring, this time forming the shield into a band around him, just before the magical hand crushed him. The ring held the hand at bay, but the time in between pulses inside the ring shortened and the wall of light flickered.

  Cecht clapped his hands and spoke a word of power, sending a large burst of raw magic into the air around him. The sudden torrent of magical energy disrupted both the giant hand and his ring, causing both spells to fade. He stalked toward Saccius and kept his gaze pinned on him. Saccius' hands moved slowly as he sung a lilting chant.

  With grace and diligence Saccius worked his hands in intricate patterns. Sigils the color of sunrise appeared all around him, but when his singing dropped the sigils turned fiery red and he made several sharp movements with his hands, ending with a pointed finger at Cecht.

  Cecht forced as much magic as he could into the ring, desperate to use it one last time. It pulsed dangerously and resisted the flow of magic. For the first time in the fight, doubt seeped into Cecht's mind. This was his last chance to use the ring to strike Saccius down while the boy had no protective spells up.

  A spear wrought of pure fire formed before Saccius. It roared to life as it doubled in size and then launched itself toward Cecht. The wizard stopped stoically and held up his palm, willing the ring to open its pocket dimension. The opening was barely large enough for the spear to fit through, but it did. Cecht closed the pocket dimension as soon as the spear disappeared inside. He staggered forward, reversed the flow of magic inside the ring, and reopened the portal. The spear flew out, speeding back at Saccius.

  The unicorn ring shattered, forcing the pocket dimension to close. Terrible exhaustion and hunger struck Cecht, forcing him to keel over.

  Saccius could only stare in despair. He had no spells he could cast fast enough to shield him.

  He had only one option.

  He clapped his hands and spoke a word of power, sending an influx of raw magical energy into the air.

  The fire spear slammed into the wall of energy and it wavered. It shrunk in half but still ripped into Saccius' abdomen and tore through his backside.

  The announcer held up his left hand.

  "Duel over! Cecht Angrove is the winner!" he said. The crowd cheered.

  "Ladies and gentlemen, for the first time since the founding of our great arena, an apprentice-slave has won his freedom!"

  More cheers erupted from the crowd.

  From their seats on the western wall, Caldea's wizard lords floated down to the arena floor and walked over to the center of the arena, where the announcer had already moved. Cecht took a restorative potion from the announcer and downed it in one gulp. Another arena worker handed the same potion to Saccius and tended to his stomach while several men rushed out with a stretcher and medical supplies. They loaded Saccius up and administered what healing they could.

  "Congratulations, Cecht Angrove," one of the wizard lords said.

  "Heh, I knew it all along,” Cecht said, standing. “That I'd win, I mean. No need to bother congratulating me."

  "It seems that you've been left exhausted after your duel," the Master said. "Perhaps we should continue the ceremonies at a later date?"

  "No, Master. I'm well enough to stand, and I don't want to wait for my freedom any longer," Cecht said, holding a hand to his stomach. The ring had drained him deeply. The potion might have lifted the pain from his body, but he still felt as if a hole existed in his stomach. "Just make it quick."

  The Master nodded. "Cecht Angrove, for your exploits in the famed arena of Caldea, for besting my champion, I hereby relieve you all of duty and servitude. May you leave this building a freeman once more." Cecht’s body visibly shook with relief as the slave brand on his upper arm disappeared.

  The other wizard lords in attendance nodded their heads and mouthed congratulatory remarks.

  One of them stepped forth. "And to thank you for a truly impressive show, the arena would like you to have this prize, a bag of gold equal to the winnings of one full week's worth of fights."

  The crowd cheered.

  Another of the wizard lords stepped forth. "It is customary, though in all actuality it's never been done before, but the rules do state it, so it's kind of like a custom, just one we haven’t done yet." Several of the wizard lords rolled their eyes. "Regardless, it is my duty to inform you that for winning your freedom you are allowed to submit to the council one request, that should it be in our power to fulfill, we will, uh... fulfill it." Another series of shouts came from the crowd.

  "Anything in your power then?" Cecht smirked.

  "Anything at all, so long as we can do it. And we can do many things, freeman Angrove," the man replied. Cecht turned toward the Master and looked him straight in the eye.

  I hope this stings.

  "Then I would like Saccius to be freed as well." A hush fell over the crowd, intermingled with gasps. Some citizens shouted at Cecht, calling him rude. The Master kept his face expressionless.

  "That cannot be done, Cecht. A slave can only be released if he wins in the arena, his captor dies, or he succeeds his captor."

  “Not so fast,” the long-winded wizard lord said. “The council is allowed to make exceptions in the case of a slave freeing himself, just so long as whatever exceptions we make are still within our power. I think we should put it up to council vote. All in favor of granting the freeman's wish and making Saccius a freeman, nod your head.” All the wizard lords, minus the Master, nodded their heads. “There. It is settled with a four-fifths vote. Saccius shall also be made a freeman this night. Hah! That's two in one night. And the first time we've ever had a freeman at that. What a most interesting night.” The wizard lords turned and left after a few more congratulations. Only the Master stayed.

  “So this is what you've been planning,” the Master said. “But tell me, just what exactly do you want with Saccius? You are more aware than most of his incompetence.”

  I’m also aware that he’s earnest, and loyal. The two things Cecht liked most in people.

  “I'm no longer obligated to answer to you, Master. Just give me the paper stating his release and I'll be on my way.”

  “Very well, boy.” The Master pulled forth a parchment and quill from within his robe and quickly scribbled a statement of Saccius' release.

  “Thank you.” Cecht took the parchment from the Master and rolled it up, tied it with a string, and placed it into his robe. He bowed mockingly and followed the medics.

  He held his head high as the crowd chanted, “Freeman! Freeman! Hoorah! Hoorah! Freeman!”

  The sounds of the crowd dimmed as he left the arena and walked through the circular halls until he came upon the infirmary. He stood and watched for a while as men and wom
en ran frantically back and forth, grabbing supplies, sutures, needles, and bandages. Others carried salves, poultices, and potions.

  Everyone was doing something to help Saccius, though to Cecht it looked far too disorganized to really help him. It was organized chaos, however, and Saccius began to stir. One by one the doctors left the room as Saccius came closer and closer to consciousness.

  Eventually there was just one caretaker left with Cecht and Saccius. Cecht asked for information.

  “He'll be just fine. Nothing to worry about,” the man said. Cecht nodded and watched as the man set down the last of his tools, wiped the blood from his hands, and told Cecht, “All he needs now is rest. Perhaps you should wait to talk to him.”

  “No, I can't wait. I don't want to be in this town any longer.”

  The caretaker shrugged as he walked past Cecht out of the room.

  “You have something to say to me, Cecht?” Saccius asked, coughing. Cecht walked over, taking the rolled parchment from his robe. He handed it to Saccius when he reached the bed. “What is this?”

  “Just read it,” Cecht said. Saccius untied the string around the parchment and unrolled it.

  “What is the meaning of this?” he asked.

  “You're a freeman.”

  “But why?”

  “A freeman is allowed to request one thing of the council.”

  “I know that. What I don't know is why you had me freed.”

  Because I can use you.

  “Because it's time you stopped bowing down to