This Magic of Mine (closed to Bewitched)

[Zook Murnig]

It had been a long, fruitless week. Day after day of searching ended with the magician returning to the Sleepy Sage's straw bed disappointed. He needed a ride to Concordia, where his hometown of Hearthwood lay, and no merchant seemed willing to go that deep into the sylvan wood.

And so it was that Caduceus needed a distraction. In the week preceding his departure from the mage-village of Tel'Han, he had faced off against his colleague the elementalist Atzar Kellon and been soundly defeated in Charms. Upon arriving in Radasanth, the young man had battled a bugbear alongside the rune-mistress Karuka Tida. And once more he sought the excitement of battle in the Citadel.

His boots clicked against the limestone steps as he made his way into the ancient fortress-temple. The orange-robed Ai'bron monks were more numerous than they had been when last he had visited, as were the patrons. The Citadel's activity had definitely taken a sudden upturn.

"Can I help you, sir?" a feminine voice asked behind him. Caduceus turned to see a rare sight indeed. Few were the Ai'bron maidens of the Citadel. The art of war drew more men than women, and the devotion of the monks to that art was beyond that of an ordinary soldier or general. Still, a few women joined their ranks here and there, and this robed blonde was proof of that. She stared at him with hard and piercing grey eyes, and the magician felt as though she might not be looking at him at all, but trying to see through him and down the hall.

"Umm, yes," he stuttered, a little nervous from the way she was staring at him. "I am here for a battle. Surely, you can help me with that."

"This way please, master...?"

"Grimaldi. Caduceus Grimaldi."

"Of course, Master Grimaldi," she picked up quickly. "Right this way. I believe you will be very satisfied with this battlefield." The warrior-priestess guided him down twisting hallways, past rows and rows of doors, each one unique. Finally, they arrived at the archway she sought. Granite framed on the sides, giving way to a blue-white stone Caduceus did not recognize at the peak. The door itself was made of a white ash, carved to resemble falling water, and the knob was a simple one of blue-green colored steel.

Caduceus grasped the knob, turning it as he pushed the door inward. Cold, misty air hit him as he stepped into the magically sustained portal. The light seemed blinding after the time he had spent in the darkened corridors of the Citadel, but as his eyes adjusted to simple sunlight, he beheld the view. And his heart stopped for a moment.

He stood at the edge of a rocky cliff, a narrow rope bridge before him connecting to a similar precipice about fifty feet distant. The boards on the bridge seemed old and weathered, some with holes in them. Still it seemed sturdy enough to hold up one or two people at a time. But that wasn't what struck him so breathtakingly.

Looking down, he saw the grandeur of nature in all its wildness, personified by a rushing river, battering rocky rapids with roiling and raging waters. Mists rose up from the battle of earth and water, ascending to the heavens like the dying wounded of war.

"Lord, you work wonders upon this world," he uttered in awed reverie.

[Bewitched]

In one word, it was massive; in two, utterly unimaginable. Those were the teenager’s first thoughts as she approached the monumental structure marked on the map as the Citadel. It certainly earned points in her book for best first impression. And so she stood there, wide-brimmed witch’s hat and cloak billowing in the stiff breeze. Yep, it sure was quite the structure. Slender fingers tapped on the meager biceps of her crossed arms; the building wasn’t going anywhere yet, and she was absolutely terrified.

Knees? Knocking like a rattlesnake’s tail. Sweat? Covering her mild teenage cleavage and practically drenching the sweat-ring of her hat. The fireburst-cut amethyst set in her hat shimmered a purple rainbow as it caught and refracted the brilliant noonday sun. Her deep lavender robe clung against her damp skin and the white half-cape that hung from her shoulders didn’t help as much as it usually did. Even her legs were sweating against the slightly-soiled white of her thigh-high boots.

Forcing her feet to walk was no easy task, but she had to get better with her runes, and she had heard once that fighting was the best (and fastest) way to get stronger. One thing led to another, and now the teenage witch was standing in front of the legendary fighting arena.

“Is something the matter?”

The voice came from a rather burly man with an orange robe and a half-shaved head. His darkly-tanned skin was rippling with muscles, but his face was gentle and his smile soft. It was enough to make her nearly feint. Her face flushed and her heart started beating faster.

“I… uh… well… err…”

Stupid! Stupid, stupid, stupid! Here stood the most amazing man she had ever lain eyes on and she was stuttering like an invalid. At her strange outburst and self-reprimanding expression, the monk laughed, a deep baritone that reverberated through her entire being.

“What is your name, young one?”

“Alex… Alexandria Lamia.”

“Perhaps I could show you something to ease your apprehension? You have been standing there for an hour straight.”

A slight nod later and the rune witch was gliding through the labyrinth-like halls of the Citadel, delicate frame perched atop the strong body of the monk. He hadn’t shown the slightest bit of strain lifting her single-handed to his shoulder, and even now he walked as though she weighed no more than a leaf. It was slightly disappointing when he finally strode to a halt before the most beautiful doors she had ever seen. The carving of the mantle, the intricate designs that danced up and down the doorposts… it was amazing.

She didn’t even realize that she was standing on solid ground again for her amazement with just the door. A glance over her shoulder revealed… nothing. She was standing alone in a corridor that stretched and curved endlessly each way. Her small hand wrapped around the doorknob; it was still warm from the last person to touch it. The door opened soundlessly, and she walked into the swirling vortex without a word. There was no turning back from here.

Holding her hand before her eyes until she grew accustomed to the abrupt change in lighting, Alex’s mouth dropped open from the sight before her. She was standing at the edge of a mountainous cliff with nothing to indicate that she had just walked into an enclosed room. Glancing to the sky, she stared in amazement at the sight of the world she called home for eighteen years. The blues of the oceans contrasted the brilliant whites of the clouds; the Red Forest stark against the green of surrounding countryside. She didn’t even think to look around and find the person who had entered before her. At least until she remembered that she was now in an arena and the only way out was to fight.

A rock made its way down her throat, larger than her fist and full of jagged spines. She had to fight and there, a ways away standing on another ledge just like the one she was on, was the man who was her opponent. The rickety bridge that connected the two ledges did not look at all stable, and she shuddered just thinking about setting one foot on it. The torrent of liquid death so far below didn’t help matters either. She didn’t know how to swim.

“Hello over there!” She shouted while waving her right arm in the air. “I’m Alex! It’s nice to meet you!”

[Zook Murnig]

Peering through the light fog to the other side of the chasm, the Qabalist spotted what could only be a young woman in dark clothing waving at him excitedly. My opponent has arrived, then, he thought.

Chuckling softly, he thought to himself how nervous he had been on his first time fighting in the Citadel. He had nearly swallowed his tongue when he met Karuka, and couldn't bring himself to fight against her. This time, however, he knew what to expect. He would not be so passive this time.

Raising his hands to form a projecting funnel around his mouth, Caduceus shouted, "A pleasure to meet you, too! Caduceus is my name! But shall we save the niceties for the infirmary?" The magician then brought his right hand in a familiar gesture of prayer, drawing over himself a cross. Forehead to groin and right to left shoulder, he imagined his fingers leaving a trail of light that extended far beyond the confines of his meager frame, endlessly in every direction. Clasping his hands together at his heart, he bowed his head in supplication.

"Ain Soph Aur, the Endless Light, shine into me and grant me the true sight, that your servant may triumph over adversity this day, as well as over himself. Azoth."

As he raised his head and opened his eyes, he saw more clearly than before. The etheric vision allowed him great clarity, and he could now discern the nature of his foe. She was indeed young, and definitely a woman. An attractive one, curse it all, he thought. Must I ever be pitted against the fairer sex?

Then he spotted something interesting in her aura. A hint of magic about her that several weeks ago he would not have thought twice about, surrounded as he had been by others of mystical professions. So far removed from Tel'Han, however, those initiated in the magical arts were far less numerous. He shivered from a combination of uncertainty and a blast of chill air pressing over him. Less numerous, and less predictable.

"Yet more wonders you have wrought, Lord."

[Bewitched]

Well, if anything, her opponent was good at calming a terrified teenager’s nerves. He waved back and shouted something akin to a nicety before, in the same shout, saying something about an infirmary. It didn’t sound so bad the way he said it, and from the chipper tone in his voice, she gathered that he probably wasn’t a cold-blooded killer. Well, that was good, because neither was she.

If was after the man fell silent that Alex started to get on edge. He did something with his hands that really made her curious, but it was the arcane wind blowing toward him that set her on edge. A strange motion of one of his hands, however, pushed her over the edge. Fighters didn’t use hand motions, not from that far away at least. That meant he was some sort of mage; she had learned recently that there were other types of magic stranger than her own runes. A race that sang to cast spells? Ridiculous! But if he was going to cast a spell, she was not going to be caught off-guard.

Standing stoically, a different arcane wind started blowing around the amethyst witch. She flipped the pages of her flesh-and-bone grimoire until she found the image of her broomstick and pulled it out of the page storage. It was a simple broomstick carved with a runic spell of flight, but it served a more practical purpose now. She held the common house tool horizontally before her with both arms fully extended, focusing on the image of the stone codex tablets she had found. First… a shield. A couple uneasy steps closer to the rickety deathtrap were all she would risk before she found a solid stance.

“Bankorok Redgormor Somes!”

Somes, the rune of the body, appeared in a red flash right on the edge of the cliff first, quickly followed by the runes for Protection and Area… Bankorok and Redgormor appearing behind her to create a triangle of pulsing red runes. A second later, the pulsing stopped and the magically burned ground glowed a steady dull red. It was a shield spell, and a rather weak one at that. She was still far too inexperienced to make a proper one. She took a couple steps back until she exited her protective enclosure, and released a breath she couldn’t remember holding after finishing the spell. Her barrier would block, at most, three spells, one from each side since.

What was I thinking coming to this place? I’m not a warrior! I’m just a girl… I’m not cut out for this type of thing.

[Zook Murnig]

The witch girl cast her spell, tracing something in the air with her broom, and the magician watched. With his etheric sight, he saw what she worked, though he could understand only pieces of the unfamiliar runes that flashed before his eyes. As she finished the invocation, he saw that a faint blue aura perfused the area she had been working in, denoting the influence of Chesed.

Mercy, he mused. The girl has worked a protection spell, but it's weak. Just the slightest push would break it...

He grinned slightly as a plan formed in his mind. Dismissing the energies allowing him his enhanced vision, Caduceus called upon the elemental Fire powers mentally, speaking their name aloud, "Tejas." Warmth flooded into him as he invisioned himself surrounded by tall flames that licked all about him, setting smaller fires within him to spread throughout his body. Sweat beaded on his brow, and he felt as if he could combust at any moment before he stopped the influx of energy.

The Qabalist raised an arm, the rocks crunching under his boot with the shift in weight, drawing a five-pointed star in the air before him, seeing in his mind the bright blue lines traced by his fingertip. The lower right corner burned bright red, and he willed the wall blocking it from spilling into the center pentagon to open. "Yehovoh Tzabaoth," he droned, feeling the vibration throughout his body, forcing the fires within him to his palm, where he released them in two bolts of light and heat, streaking one behind the other across the chasm at the witch.

[Bewitched]

The man traced a star in the air before him, and for a moment, Alex didn’t know what to do or say. She had never seen someone draw in the air before. Well, she hadn’t seen much at all in the safety of her secluded homeland, but compared to runes on the ground, someone drawing in midair was quite interesting. When the moment passed, however, she realized that he had done something similar a short time ago. The shape was different, but the arcane winds swirled just the same. He was casting another spell.

Most people would be surprised at the appearance of fire bolts from nowhere, or at least most people who knew nothing of magic and had no knowledge of the workings of the mystic. While she wasn’t gifted with the ability to see the individual strands of mana flowing together, red only meant a handful of things. None of them were good. Especially when a fireball was heading her way.

The rune witch knew her shield would hold at least one fireball, so she used the time between Caduceus’ initiation to start her own casting. Her broom was held in her left hand like a spear with the tip pointing directly at her fellow mage’s chest. Distance often required more precise targeting than simply glancing at something. Mana swirled around her in a tangible wind, whipping her hair in all the directions she didn’t want as the artificial breeze fought with the already billowing winds from the canyon. Her field of vision narrowed as the fireballs streaked closer, and for the first time ever, she experienced an adrenaline rush. The rushing water so far below quieted to a barely audible murmur as she parted her lips.

“Antorbok Redgormor Somes.”

From the tip of her broom, a fist-sized sphere of glowing red and full of bad intent appeared. Her left arm was kicked back some from the recoil of the projectile as it launched away from her broomstick and flew toward her target. Insubstantial and not really lethal, the sphere would inflict a nice slashing wound on his body equivalent to a good clean sword strike centered on the point of impact. It wasn’t fancy in Alex’s eyes, but she didn’t want to hurt him too bad. About the same time, the first wall of her shield failed in a flash of light and the sound of glass shattering. The forward fireball and consequently the only one Alex knew about had lost a bit of its size from the resistance and fizzled out when it touched the only wall that stood between Alex and pain. Imagine her surprise when she saw a second fireball trailing right behind it.

There was no room to dodge from her sudden realization; all she could do was watch in slow motion as her second barrier was thoroughly overpowered and a blazing ball of flames struck her chest clean. There was no real amount of force behind it, but as anyone would do, she jumped back and started rolling around on the ground. Her clothes were thoroughly singed around her chest, her miniscule breasts were barely covered by a lacy white bra, and when she stood after finally putting out the fire, her cheeks flushed red while murder flashed through her eyes. Her arms were crossed over her chest, effectively blocking them from the man’s sight completely. He was probably getting a kick out of this.

[Zook Murnig]

He never saw the effect of his attack. Too busy was he panicking over the orb of glowing red force that now flew his way. No time for a shield. No time to deflect, he thought. Only one way to go...

Caduceus braced himself. He had no idea how much control his opponent had over this orb, so he would have to time it just right. Three. Two. One... He dove to the side, and the ball flew past as he struck the dirt, a cloud of dust flying up all around him. A gasp of pain escaped his lips as he realized just how close it had been. "Adonai!" he breathed the interjection. Looking over to where it hurt, he saw a slash in his robes, revealing a clean slice into the skin of his left forearm. A small amount of blood seeped through, staining the dull brown cloth a dark red where it dripped down.

Grimacing through the pain, he glanced around, calculating his next move. Two things caught the magician's eye: the rickety bridge, and the ledge of sandstone right in front of the witch. She would never let him cross the bridge if she saw him go for it, he knew. But, what if... he wondered.

He pushed himself to his feet, going through the familiar hand motions once more. The pentagram glowed brightly in his mind, and the fiery red flooded the center as he summoned the Tejas into himself. The heat seeped from every pore of his body as he focused it once more into his undamaged right arm. Taking careful aim, he fired one, then a second ball of explosive flame from his shaking palm.

Narrowed eyes followed their trajectory into the mist, and the Qaballist grinned as he watched the first fly straight at the girl, while the second went slightly off course from its partner, exploding against the cliff face in a cloud of fire and earth.

"Perfect," he whispered as he took off running for the bridge. She would never see his crossing now, he thought.

[Bewitched]

The mage on the opposite cliff dropped to the ground, but the telltale flash that signified the energy of her spell being released told Alex that she hadn’t taken embarrassment in vain. She couldn’t really tell how much damage she had done, but she had at least hit him. It was a start. If she hit him once, she could do it again.

The man stood from his dive and Alex sunk into a low casting posture. Her feet were spread and she could have easily been preparing to take a berserker’s tackle head-on. She watched her opponent’s hand intently, trying to sense just how he worked the mana around him into his spells. The arcane winds swirled around his hand as it traced the star, but he wasn’t the only one working with forces stronger than himself.

“Antorbok…” A blue-white rune appeared this time, floating about her waist as a more physical wind picked up around her to match the magical wind she was conjuring. “Redgormor…” Behind her and to the left, a backward N appeared on the same plane as the first rune, swirling with the essence of power. “Ventus!” She screamed the last word and the final rune, looking like a jagged tornado comprised of straight lines, burned its way into the very air around her.

With her spell complete, she narrowed her eyes and focused on the oncoming projectiles. The second one was a misfire and was heading for something other than her, so she didn’t pay it any attention. The first fireball, however… that one was a problem. Even though she couldn’t move while casting, she was free to make simple motions after completing her spells. The rune mage laced her fingers together, locked her arms straight, and then released her spell with such force that she would have easily fallen over backward from the recoil. Her attack was practically invisible except for the dust and debris that travelled along with the lance of wind. The fireball and wind spear met halfway across the chasm in an arcane clash of almost epic proportions.

Well, so maybe it wasn’t near epic, but the womanly mind swimming in Alex’s mostly-matured body romanticized it as such. There was a brilliant flash and a burst of radiant heat as her lance broke through the mystical forces binding the fireball together- no… that was the second fireball smashing into the stone by her feet. Her spell still had a good deal of its original force behind it, but it wouldn’t hit like a steel lance. Maybe a dull club at most. The problem was that she would never see the end result. There was far too much sand flying around her now.

Coughing and swatting at the vile substance, her eyes started to water and it was painful to keep them open. How was she supposed to know what was happening just across the chasm?

[Zook Murnig]

He ran. He ran fast. He ran hard. His robes whipped about all around him, billowing out behind him. His hair flew back in the wind. For the moment, nothing else existed or mattered. Just that he keep running. Keep running for the bridge. Keep running for the advantage. Keep running.

Caduceus didn't care that he hadn't hit his young opponent. That didn't matter. What mattered was reaching that bridge and crossing before she could stop him. On this side, nothing but trades of attacks awaited him. The other side, however, held uncertainty and excitement. So he ran as hard and as fast as he could.

He didn't see, however, the vortex of wind that lanced towards him. It kicked him in the keister, throwing him forward into the dirt and grass once more. The soft blades rustled softly as he pushed himself up again, rubbing his hindquarters from the pain as he set to his course yet again. It didn't take him long to reach the crossing, and the planks on the bridge, though worn, only creaked a little as he traversed them.