hands gesturing wildly, flames shooting out of his palms and hitting buildings at random. When I was closer, within twenty or so feet of him, I could see his mouth moving but I couldn’t hear the words. The noise all around me was too thick for me to discern anything.
Ten feet away, and it struck me that he was young, probably two years younger than me. His clothes were plastered to him with sweat, emphasizing his whipcord build. He kept running his hands over his fair hair, sending it standing up in different directions, and there was a manic smile on his face of unholy glee at the destruction he was causing.
When he lifted his hands again, I instinctively grabbed a chunk of cobblestone and threw it up around him, blocking his attack.
He stumbled to a halt, looking at the rock in confusion. In that moment when he was distracted, I slid quickly off Night’s back and ordered over my shoulder, “You and Chatta get the people out of here!”
Night bobbed his head sharply and turned toward the nearest group that were working desperately to recover bolts of fabric before it could become nothing more than char.
There were perhaps fifty or sixty people in my immediate vicinity and that was a concern I didn’t need. I’ve never fought with another magician in unconfined conditions before, but I knew how destructive it could be, and I didn’t want other people being caught up in it. This battle would be far worse than anything I’ve experienced before for one simple reason: He was a Fire Mage.
His eyes left the crumbled cobblestone at his feet and he looked up at me with oddly unconcerned eyes. The smile was gone from his face now, but the dead lack of emotion was somehow more disconcerting. “Did you throw that?”
I nodded in short confirmation.
“What are you?” he asked with childlike curiosity.
“I am Rhebengarthen, Earth Mage.” As I spoke, I lifted my shields up around me, as strong as I could make them. My power was building, poised for attack. I didn’t trust this strange attitude of his one bit.
“Earth Mage…” he repeated, thoughtful, head canted to the side as he considered me from head to toe. “What am I?”
“A Fire Mage,” I answered neutrally.
“Fire Mage? Is that why I like to destroy things?”
“No,” I refuted harshly. “Fire Mages have always been the ones with the most control, the most discipline. Your magic cannot be blamed for your delight in destruction.”
A cruel smile teased at the corners of his mouth. “I wonder what it would be like to destroy you?”
I had no time to garner a response to that. He lifted both hands, palms facing me, and screamed, “ Fire Inferno!”
The flames he shot at me were hot enough to melt steel, large enough to incinerate a full grown stallion instantly. I didn’t flinch, simply held his eyes as his fire washed over my shields without noticeable effect. As the attack faded, he stared at me in disbelief.
Did he really think himself invincible? My hands clenched at my side, nails digging into my palms, as I raised up my own attack. I gathered cobblestone, any loose bricks or stones from destroyed buildings, and threw everything at him.
He threw up another wave of hot flame, the force of it knocking back my attack. “You didn’t say a spell!” he yelled at me in accusation, as if by not saying anything I was somehow cheating.
I wasn’t about to explain to him that as a Mage, I didn’t use spells. His habit of saying things as he attacked would help me defend against him. Instead, I gathered up more stone and attacked again, this time as a feint. While he was deflecting my airborne attack, I tried to suck him into the cobblestones beneath his feet as I’d done with a group of city guardsmen so many months ago.
Swearing viciously, he aimed a concentrated burst of flame toward his feet, melting the stone enough to where he could pull free. He didn’t emerge unscathed from this, as his clothes were clearly scorched, but he wasn’t
Ten feet away, and it struck me that he was young, probably two years younger than me. His clothes were plastered to him with sweat, emphasizing his whipcord build. He kept running his hands over his fair hair, sending it standing up in different directions, and there was a manic smile on his face of unholy glee at the destruction he was causing.
When he lifted his hands again, I instinctively grabbed a chunk of cobblestone and threw it up around him, blocking his attack.
He stumbled to a halt, looking at the rock in confusion. In that moment when he was distracted, I slid quickly off Night’s back and ordered over my shoulder, “You and Chatta get the people out of here!”
Night bobbed his head sharply and turned toward the nearest group that were working desperately to recover bolts of fabric before it could become nothing more than char.
There were perhaps fifty or sixty people in my immediate vicinity and that was a concern I didn’t need. I’ve never fought with another magician in unconfined conditions before, but I knew how destructive it could be, and I didn’t want other people being caught up in it. This battle would be far worse than anything I’ve experienced before for one simple reason: He was a Fire Mage.
His eyes left the crumbled cobblestone at his feet and he looked up at me with oddly unconcerned eyes. The smile was gone from his face now, but the dead lack of emotion was somehow more disconcerting. “Did you throw that?”
I nodded in short confirmation.
“What are you?” he asked with childlike curiosity.
“I am Rhebengarthen, Earth Mage.” As I spoke, I lifted my shields up around me, as strong as I could make them. My power was building, poised for attack. I didn’t trust this strange attitude of his one bit.
“Earth Mage…” he repeated, thoughtful, head canted to the side as he considered me from head to toe. “What am I?”
“A Fire Mage,” I answered neutrally.
“Fire Mage? Is that why I like to destroy things?”
“No,” I refuted harshly. “Fire Mages have always been the ones with the most control, the most discipline. Your magic cannot be blamed for your delight in destruction.”
A cruel smile teased at the corners of his mouth. “I wonder what it would be like to destroy you?”
I had no time to garner a response to that. He lifted both hands, palms facing me, and screamed, “ Fire Inferno!”
The flames he shot at me were hot enough to melt steel, large enough to incinerate a full grown stallion instantly. I didn’t flinch, simply held his eyes as his fire washed over my shields without noticeable effect. As the attack faded, he stared at me in disbelief.
Did he really think himself invincible? My hands clenched at my side, nails digging into my palms, as I raised up my own attack. I gathered cobblestone, any loose bricks or stones from destroyed buildings, and threw everything at him.
He threw up another wave of hot flame, the force of it knocking back my attack. “You didn’t say a spell!” he yelled at me in accusation, as if by not saying anything I was somehow cheating.
I wasn’t about to explain to him that as a Mage, I didn’t use spells. His habit of saying things as he attacked would help me defend against him. Instead, I gathered up more stone and attacked again, this time as a feint. While he was deflecting my airborne attack, I tried to suck him into the cobblestones beneath his feet as I’d done with a group of city guardsmen so many months ago.
Swearing viciously, he aimed a concentrated burst of flame toward his feet, melting the stone enough to where he could pull free. He didn’t emerge unscathed from this, as his clothes were clearly scorched, but he wasn’t
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