Chapter 3 Part 18

Armegon stood on a plain. There was grass of an unfamiliar variety that stood about two feet tall. It was just right to hide an ambush. The sky was a deep blue green with yellowish clouds drifting lazily by. He was not sure where he was nor how he had gotten there, but he was sure that he did not like being treated like a laboratory animal.

He was still looking about when there was a flash of light to his left. There stood a figure about one hundred feet away dressed in robes and a tall pointed hat.

"Hello there," he called. He wanted to see if the fellow was responsible for his entrapment before he said or did anything threatening.

The figure didn't reply, but just stood there watching Armegon from a distance.

Armegon decided to walk over and introduce himself. Before he had taken a third step, the other being made a move that Armegon recognized as the enactment of a material and semantic gesture. Instinctively, Armegon dove to one side. A split second later a bolt of magical lightning ionized the air where he had been standing. Armegon's robe was burned as was a good part of his backside and left leg. The pain washed over him like a wave breaking on a shore, but he instinctively ignored it.

Armegon's temper flared. He had tried to make peaceful contact with this person who was obviously a mage of no small capability. Now, he was under attack. Armegon rolled into a crouched position and pointed his finger at his opponent. The other wizard was already casting another spell. Armegon spat a quick phrase of magic and instantly bursts of energy jumped from his finger and slammed into the enemy. The other mage lost his concentration and his spell dissipated harmlessly as he fell onto the grass.

Armegon crept closer. He didn't know if he had killed his enemy or not, but he wasn't going to take any chances. He reached into his shoulder bag and removed a crystal rod and piece of wool.

Slowly, he crept closer to where his enemy had fallen. As he approached, he saw the figure lying sprawled on the grass. An ugly burn mark scarred his chest area and his left arm was badly mangled.

Armegon observed that it was a human male about forty or fifty years old. It wore no armor nor carried a weapon. Armegon watched him for a moment until he was sure that the human was not breathing. Then he approached and knelt down next to his adversary and started checking pockets and pouches for a clue as to his origin.

Armegon was taken completely by surprise when the body suddenly reached up and touched his arm. There was a quick phrase of magic as Armegon tried to get away.

Suddenly, Armegon felt his body drop. He felt as if he had been trampled on by a stampeding herd of cattle. Rolling over, Armegon saw that his opponent was applying some kind of clerical healing skills on himself.

Armegon chastised himself. He should have expected something like a reversed healing spell. The guy probably used another spell to feign death as well.

Quickly, Armegon applied an amount of healing of his own. He had to make a decision--should he strike and chance a retaliation that could kill him, or should he try to heal himself completely and try to slug it out again from scratch. Every second he delayed his attack, he allowed his opponent to heal further and prepare a major spell.

Armegon and the human were both on their feet again, each backing away from the other as if readying for a duel. Armegon still limped. He had not had time to heal himself completely. The other seemed to be quite healthy physically, but Armegon knew that he had to be fatiguing mentally. The more spells one casts, the more fatigued one became. Not only had Armegon cast fewer and less powerful spells in the attack, but he had not spent as much energy in healing either. So, it was about even odds. Armegon was hurt physically and the other was exhausted mentally.

The other's hands came up as a spell was launched. Armegon recognized the ball of flame screaming towards him and jumped forward so that the ball exploded behind him covering him with first degree burns. He immediately fell into the tall grass. The pain was terrible, but again he forced it to the back of his mind.

With some difficulty, he cast a low-powered spell rendering him invisible. He crawled and each movement brought him such agony that he almost lost consciousness twice. Slowly, he moved through the grass about twenty feet from where he had fallen. Quickly, Armegon whispered an enchantment and cast an illusion of his body lying where he had fallen. He stood to observe the action better. As long as he made no offensive gestures, he would remain invisible.

The human closed his distance to within ten feet of the body and stopped. Armegon saw him reach into his pouch and pull forth a piece of what Armegon instantly recognized as rock sulfur. He was going to finish off Armegon's illusion with another fireball.

Just before the human released his fireball, Armegon encased him in a globe of force. So intent in his own concentration, the human did not notice. When he cast his spell, it rebounded from the inside of the globe and concentrated on the spell caster. The result was astounding. All that was left was a smoking mass of meat and bone.

Armegon sighed. He had not experienced any magical combat in a long time. He knew that he could have used a dozen spells of great power, but back home it was considered a sign of superiority to win in a spell casting contest by using as few spells as possible and great skill was demonstrated by making effective use of low-powered magic. Had this been a competition, he would have really racked up points by turning his opponent's own spell against him.

Armegon dispelled the globe, which he used to defeat his opponent. The globe itself was a medium-powered spell, but the kill was worth the effort. He was only sorry that he had to kill. He was really curious about that. He did not even know why his enemy had attacked him. He knelt by the smoking body. He tried to ignore the stench of burned flesh as he tried to find some clue to the wizard's origin.

Suddenly, the world blurred around him, and he found himself kneeling on a floor in a room that was completely bare except for a human adolescent. The pain of his injuries and all evidence of his battle were gone, as if it had never happened.

"Well done Armegon Master of Sorcery."