Arrival

by William Dickey

  Deimos fired a lightning bolt, which Titania deftly sidestepped. The simple move was impressive considering the speed of electricity and the challenge of shifting momentum in heavy armor. On top of which the lightning was naturally drawn to the large mass of metal, making evading it like tricking a heat-seeking missile.

  Suddenly, Deimos stopped. He lowered his outstretched hands behind his back and calmly stood there as Titania charged. Deimos’ grinning face grew ever wider as his opponent hefted her sword at his neck.

  “Whooosh,” Deimos exhaled while casting a sigil, magnifying this breath a thousand fold, creating a gale that blew the hats off people in the stands, making many unhappy as they were forced to stand up and look for them. They weren’t the only bystanders annoyed by Deimos’ technique.

  ‘God damn. Why didn't he brush properly this morning? Or at least take a breath mint. Yikes,’ said Mai.

  To Titania, at only a few feet away, the effects were far worse. Her armor screeched in distress as hundreds of highly accelerated dust particles slammed across it, leaving numerous minor indentations as the air lifted the giantess from her feet and sent her straight into the wall of the arena.

  The crowd was stunned into silence as the dust settled and Titania remained motionless.

  “And the winner is Deimos,” shouted the announcer, breaking the dominion of silence.

  The crowd roared. The match had lasted less than thirty seconds. Deimos had been dominant throughout, not taking a single hit or a single step. The overwhelming cascade of applause continued for a full minute, buying enough time for Titania to wake and get herself off the stage.

  Normally, there would have been a break to give Deimos a chance to rest, but he waved the announcer on to call the next match. He was that arrogant. To him I was nothing but another fly to swat down.

  “And now,” the announcer began. “We have come to the final match. Regardless of the outcome, we should applaud both our finalists for coming this far and the other participants for bringing us so many intense battles and eye-popping bewitcheries. The young men and women we have witnessed today are the future of our nation and deserve our admiration.”

  “For this final match, we witness two polar opposites. To my right, we welcome to the stage a recent graduate of the Academy, the 1st runner up in last year’s Millenius, a son of his Eminence Bishop Kilmore, and this year’s prohibitive favorite. We have the privilege seeing Deimos of the House Kilmore.”

  The crowd roared their approval, drowning out the magically magnified voice of the announcer and forcing him to wait a long moment for them to quiet down.

  “And on my left, we welcome this year’s dark horse, a first timer here at the Millenius, an artifact user from another world. We have Isaac Stein.”

  I received a tiny fraction of the applause Deimos had received, but I didn’t mind. They were all familiar with Deimos. His prior standings in the competition and lofty reputation ensured that despite my surprising performance, he was still the favorite. Besides, many of the onlookers had money on the outcome and if I won, few would be leaving the arena with a smile on their face.

  “Ready to lose?” I asked Deimos from across the dusty blast ridden stage.

  “Like I’d ever lose to a wimp like you,” he replied.

  “You saw what I did to Menardi, what I did in my other fights,” I said.

  “A parlor trick,” Deimos spat. “So what if you can negate interference magic. Any mage can. Your toys can’t stop me. I’ll show you what real magic looks like.”

  ‘Oh, you think magitechnology is useless do you?’ said Mai, offended at the mere thought. She too was a product of magitechnology. ‘Isaac, let’s beat the snot out of this snot.’

  The horn blared and I instantly activated the boom tube, sending a bolt of electricity. It didn’t work. Deimos cast a shield too quickly. He replied with fireball, which I easily blocked with my all-encompassing spherical barrier.

  We traded shots for a few long minutes. Using my artifacts all my attacks were straightforward and predictable, allowing Deimos to use quick footwork to dodge many of my strikes and save mana that would have been spent on a shield. Meanwhile Deimos’ shots were quirkier, balls of fire that seemed to meander about randomly before jolting directly at me, giant icicles that shattered into a thousand tiny razors as they approached, and all strange manner of attack forcing me to rely consistently on my shield to defend.

  In most fights, this would mean Deimos held the clear advantage, but with my ability to replenish my artifacts, I wasn’t going to run out of mana anytime soon. All I needed to do was survive until Deimos wore himself out.

  “It’s going well, don’t you think?” I said.

  ‘I wouldn’t be too sure,’ said Mai, flicking her head towards Deimos.

  I noticed a shift in the flow of battle. Deimos stopped dodging and withdrew behind a shield. He then pulled out a vial filled with a deep blue liquid and slurped it down in a single shot.

  “What is that?” I asked Mai.

  ‘It looks like a mana restoration potion,’ she said. ‘From the color, one of superior quality.’

  “He can do that?” I wondered.

  ‘Whyever not,’ said Mai. ‘You’re using artifacts.’

  I knew Mai was right, the competition allowed all manner of equipment; I was just unsettled that my greatest advantage had suddenly vanished. My easy win was gone. In theory, any of the other mages could have done this. They all came from rich families who could afford staggering amounts of the miraculous potion. But if they all did that, the matches would take forever and grow boring so it was an unofficial understanding that the mages wouldn’t do this and would rely solely on their own power.

  Of course, Deimos wouldn’t be blamed for breaking this tradition, in some ways my supply of mana crystals already had. He was just leveling the playing field, which was terrible news for me.

  Our fight continued for ten minutes, then twenty. My supply of mana crystals narrowed, causing me to start to worry. Was I really going to lose in stamina, the thing that should have been my greatest advantage?

  The alarm on my shield went off again. The mana Crystal it was harnessing was nearly empty so I quickly swapped it for a new one.

  ‘14 down, 11 to go,’ said Mai.

  “Has Deimos showed any signs of weakening?” I asked.

  ‘No,’ Mai answered sadly. ‘As I said before the potion is of high quality and any negative side effects seem to be too small for me to detect.’

  That was a shame, many cheaper potions held minor negative side effects that compounded the more they were taken. I guessed it was too much to hope the rich brat saved money by buying the cheap stuff.

  “Hey, alien,” Deimos yelled to me over the continued booms of clashing magic. “Don’t think I’m going to let you turn this into a battle of attrition. That would give you far too grand of a reputation. People will think you were my equal. No, I will not let a single soul believe such a ridiculous thing. Prepare, for you are about to be crushed by overwhelming force.”

  A pale blue laser fired from a sigil carved from light that levitated a few feet in front of Deimos. The beam battered against my shield but failed to penetrate it like any of his other attacks.

  Then I noticed something strange, the beam of energy didn’t let up. It continued beating against my shield. After a moment, Deimos cast a second beam. Then a third.

  The Frisbee sized shield artifact blared, warning me the mana crystals powering it were running low. I reached into my inventory and pulled out a fistful of mana crystals, putting on a brave face to make a single point: I can do this all day.

  Deimos continued about his business, slowly and gradually adding additional lasers until there were seven of them. Deimos held them there for a long minute, straining to maintain such a massive show of force.

  The eyes of the crowd glittered with the spectacle of it all. Never had they seen the clashing of such powerful magic at the Millenius. Not today or any prio
r year. The competition was only for the young, so no true masters ever competed. Yet this day they were filled with wonder.

  I saw the outer shell of my shield warble from the shear strain of holding off seven simultaneous magic attacks, but it was holding. I could see sweat start to pour from Deimos’ brow as he struggled to maintain the onslaught.

  The alarm of my shield artifact went off again. Another mana crystal had just run out so I swapped it for a fresh one.

  It was at this time I noticed something strange. The metal artifact was getting hot. The temperature change was slow. At first, I thought it was just my imagination or the heat from my hands seeping into the metal, but as the artifact turned from warm to scorching, it was clearly neither.

  I set the shield artifact on the ground only touching it when I absolutely had to, but it wasn’t good enough. Each siren was like a dagger to my skull as I was forced to act and once again struggle to ignore the steadily worsening agony in my hands and the disgustingly salivating smell of meat.

  ‘Now that can’t be good,’ said Mai.

  “What can’t be…” I started to say.

  The alarm went off again, but it wasn’t the normal continuous drone but a strange sputtering one. At that same moment, my glorious shield hesitated, flicking off for the faintest fraction of a second, letting Deimos’ seven beams flash briefly closer, before returning to normal.

  ‘It’s melting. Melting,’ Mai shrieked as she dramatically melted herself down until all she was only a mop of dark hair soaking in a puddle of blue goop.

  I snapped my head down at my precious shield. Mai was right. It was melting. The artifact had actually grown so hot the metal from which it was composed turned soft and semi-fluid.

  ‘You better get Plan B ready,’ said Mai. ‘The shield isn’t going to last much longer.’

  “No shit. Can’t you be a bit more specific,” I complained.

  ‘Shield failure in 5… 4…’ Mai started.

  I dove to the side, curling myself into a roll as the shield collapsed. Deimos’ seven beams of light broke through blasting the ground where I had been standing just before; vaporizing what remained of the molten shield artifact.

  My quick roll had spared me from a direct beam strike but not from the resulting explosion. The light beams flash melted the sand of the arena floor into glass and superheated the soil underneath, liberating a number of gasses. The gasses were trapped inside by the newly formed glass, building pressure until the glass bubble exploded, flinging shards of glass in every direction. Warm blood dripped down my cheek and the side of my leg as numerous shards of glassy shrapnel slashed me in several places. Fortunately, my long coat and the armor underneath protected most of my body and my hard goggles protected my eyes.

  “See, I told you that someone like you didn’t stand a chance against my power,” said Deimos.

  I got to my feet amidst the cold sickening laughter of my opponent. Physically I was fine, but my shield was gone and I didn’t have another. I suppose I could have tried to use my own mana to make one, rather than rely on an artifact, but my own shield wouldn’t last more than a couple seconds against Deimos.

  “I’m going to enjoy this,” said Deimos cracking his knuckles. The action seemed strange considering he was going to use magic rather than his fists but maybe it was out of habit. I wouldn’t have been surprised if Deimos had been a bully long before he’d learned magic.

  “I hope you don’t surrender too soon,” Deimos continued. “It’d be a shame not to give all these spectators a proper show.”

  “It would be a shame,” I agreed tossing aside my trench coat and shoving my hands into a pair of metallic gauntlet shaped artifacts.

  Deimos glowered at me concernedly and not wanting to take a chance fired another beam of light at me. I raised my left hand straight up above my head and opened it as wide as I could.

  A piece of the metal gauntlet over the palm shot upward, dragging a fine yet sturdy wire behind it. The metal piece clanged loudly with top of the iron cage that separated the audience from the battlefield before adhering to it. Then I curled my fingers slightly while keeping my palm open. The wire retracted, lifting me. The beam of light incinerated the ground below me, missing my feet be only a few inches as I was carried up to the top of the dome.

  I called them the Flying Claws, although they really didn’t let me fly. They were more like electromagnetic grappling hooks. The positioning of my fingers magically controlled the launching and retracting mechanism. The palm launched whenever my fingers opened fully and retracted when I curled them back up. The Xebryans didn’t have any magnetism sigils so instead I created an electro magnet using scientific principles from earth and electricity generated by the same sigils as a boom tube.

  Deimos stared up in me in frustration as I clung to the cage’s grating.

  “Surprise,” I said, launching my other claw at Deimos. It bounced harmlessly off his shield.

  “Come down here and fight like a man,” Deimos growled.

  ‘Maybe you should come up here and fight like a spider,’ said Mai.

  With my free hand I pulled out a bright silver cylinder clasped to my belt and pressed the small black button that marred its otherwise sleek surface. The cylinder extended revealing a spearhead at one end. Either side of the spearhead boasted razor sharp edges and along the base, where the spearhead met the shaft there was an exquisite red gemstone inlaid in the metal.

  The spear was my final creation. Like a few of my earlier spears, I made it collapsible so it could be more easily carried, but that was just the beginning of my improvements.

  I let go of the cage and dropped down on Deimos from above. As expected, Deimos cast his shield. I thrust my spear out ahead of me and felt the resistance of the shield as my spear pressed against it. The shield’s mana could slow me down but was nowhere near strong enough to stop me, not while I held this spear.

  The spear was made from the exsilver I salvaged from the ancient underground automatons. It worked much like the armor the knights wore but rather than just dispersing the energy, it diverted it to the large mana crystal in the spearhead.

  I squinted, protecting my eyes from the violent red glare bursting from the gem inlaid in the spear as it started to slurp up the abundant mana in Deimos’ shield. I continued to fall, albeit slowly, like falling through a layer of quicksand until my spear punched through.

  I landed a few feet from Deimos and tried to get close enough to stab him but before I could, my opponent dove out of the way and launched three fireballs. The fireballs were directed through different arcing paths so I couldn’t block them all. My spear could suck the fireballs dry just like it had a shield but only if it touched them directly.

  I used my flying claws to pull myself away and took a look at the mana crystal embedded in my spear. It glowed brightly, Deimos’ shield had been powerful and now my spear was fully charged. I gripped the spear tightly and raised it to eye level to help my aim.

  The spear could do more than just absorb mana. It could also use it. The spear was also an artifact.

  I pressed another button on the spear’s shaft, triggering the magic that lay dormant. A current of mana shot down from the mana crystal in its head all the way to the spear’s end before curving around to draw my most reliable sigil.

  ‘You think he has any idea what’s about to happen?’ Mai asked.

  “Not a chance in hell,” I said.

  ‘Peace.’

  A plume of fire irrupted out of the butt of the spear, providing so much thrust I didn’t even bother to throw it. I just let go.

  The spear shot forward, becoming more like a missile than a pointy stick. The spear clashed Deimos’s shield once again. This time, instead of being slowed down by it, the spear accelerated, the drained mana further fueling the fire at its back.

  Deimos didn’t know what hit him. He expected his shield would buy him enough time to dodge, if needed. It didn’t. The spear pierced his left shoulder and push
ed its entire length through him. On its way out intense flames seared, his wounds shut, stopping the bleeding as it buried itself into the ground. The fire out the spear’s back end continued to burn. It would do so until the mana ran out or someone turned it off.

  Deimos collapsed to the ground. I had won. Healers and other emergency personnel raced to his aid, they had just witnessed a four foot spear go straight through him. Of course they found a big hole in his shoulder, but it wasn’t life threatening. With the aid of magic, he’d be fine in a few days. Healing magic could fix almost anything, given the proper expertise. The only risk was that the patient could die before it had a chance to do its work.

  I slowly lowered myself to the ground. The crowd remained silent, everyone stunned. No one believed their eyes. They had all seen my other fights, seen the tricks I had used to win, but no one had believed I stood a serious chance. Deimos was a fully qualified battle mage, a recent graduate of the most esteemed school of magical learning in the country, and a former finalist. I was a novice who a year ago hadn’t thought magic existed.

  The Archlord was the first to react, his single pair of clapping hands snapping everyone else out of their haze. The common folk who comprised the majority followed. The outcome was unexpected and more than a few of them would suffer from lighter wallets, but they all appreciated seeing an egotistical nobleman taken down a peg. The nobles were more reluctant, they were all concerned about how my use of artifacts could shake things up. Every mage had held complete superiority in magic over any non-mage and perhaps that was now gone. Nevertheless, eventually they came around and they too started to clap, to cheer, for me.

  Mai appeared a few feet in front of me. ‘Not bad,’ she said as she too clapped her hands.

  “So I finally get some appreciation. Was it that hard?” I said.

  ‘Enjoy this moment, you may not see it very often.’

  I did as she recommended. I soaked in this atmosphere, this feeling, letting it wash over me and propel my spirits to new heights. In this place, at this time, everyone was looking up at me. In this world, in this thing, I was the best. I focused my mind, embedding this moment deep in my memory. I wanted to remember this moment forever. On good days, it’d act as a guide, inspiring greater feats. And on dark days to come, they’d shield me from the depths of despair. I didn’t know what was coming next for me. In this chaotic world, it always seemed like anything could happen, but in that moment, I was at peace.