TST by Brock Deskins Page B

Azerick chanted the words that helped him shape the thread of magic into a purposeful form.
    A woven shape of energy began to form in the air before him that only he could see. He drew a finger connecting one node of the form to another. He was so close now he could feel it! Just one more thread should complete the weave and his spell would be complete! He gently drew another tendril from his form’s node and pulled it to the last one to complete the sigil. As he pulled the last thread into place, he felt the entire form begin to unravel.
    “Damn it!” he cursed in frustration.
    He forced himself to relax and began again. Azerick worked late into the night, so lost in concentration he forwent dinner. He was unable to get the entire spell form to come together but he knew he would have it soon. Azerick soon realized the extent of his own exhaustion and went to bed so that he could get an early start in the morning.
    Delinda met him in the kitchen to break their fast, as was their new ritual, before attending to their separate duties. Azerick returned to the library and began concentrating as he had before. Once again, he relished the now familiar feeling of power that the Source sent through his body. He had eaten a large breakfast so that he could study through lunch. Delinda would not be happy with it but she would forgive him. She understood how important his studies were to his success in The Games.
    Late that afternoon Azerick finally achieved success in creating his new spell. Moreover, it was a spell all his own, not based on any he had seen or read about in any book. He needed to test it. It was one thing to create the form but he also needed to practice its practical application as well. Any spell he possessed he must be able to cast as second nature. He bounded down the stairs in excitement.
    He exited the tower through a rear door and went to an unfrequented patch of ground behind the tower that looked to have once been the larger part of a garden. Additions to the central structure and an expanded section of wall had closed it off from the rest of the outside grounds and made an excellent secluded area in which he could practice without fear of interruption.
    The young sorcerer drew power from the source, shaped it into the form he had just learned, and watched in exultation at the effect his spell had wrought. He cast it twice more, changing its shape and size before he needed rest to cast it again. Pleased with the results, he had just enough time to meet Delinda for dinner.
    The next morning he returned to his duties in the vault chamber occasionally taking short breaks to practice his new spell form. After his evening meal with Delinda, he returned to his private practice area and cast his new spell as many times as he could before fatigue made it impossible. Azerick repeated this routine for nearly two weeks before Lord Xornan came to him in the vault chamber.
    The rules for the tournament have been established and agreed to by both parties. Your bout is in three days. Are you prepared?
    “I am as ready as I can be,” Azerick replied.
    I hope for your sake that you are. I have negotiated with many of the more prestigious members of our fair city regarding this battle. Your opponent’s master in particular is a longstanding rival of mine. I would be extremely displeased to lose face to him.
    “Not to mention my life,” Azerick added snidely.
    The loss of your life should be the least of your worries. You have never seen me greatly displeased. Let me assure you that you do not wish to do so. I have a few items to give you that will aid you in your battle.
    The psyling glided over to a shelf of items that appeared to have some semblance of order. He selected a ring and a set of wide bracelets off the shelf. The bracelets were made of finely wrought metal, heavily rune inscribed, and enameled in deep burgundy.
    The ring was made of a silver metal but shone with a far greater brilliance than simple silver