The Wizard Duel Read online

The Wizard Duel

  By Kevin Winters

  Copyright 2013-2015 Kevin Winters

  Cover design by Tatiana Villa

  Cecht opened the door to Aleandor's Shop of Mystical Trinkets with a light push. He stepped quickly up the stairs to the main floor, a show space where unevenly placed marble pedestals held amulets, rings, and other magical items in suspended levitation. He crossed the floor briskly, paying little attention to the items; most were simply props and had filled the gallery for weeks now. His destination was the counter on the opposite side, and the man who sat behind it. Aleandor, a native to Caldea, was an older man with golden beige skin and a head of stark white hair and a short, pointed beard. The jeweler held a monocle sized magnifying glass up to a golden ring.

  "Are they ready?" Cecht asked. Aleandor, annoyed at the young lad's lack of introductions, gave him a look to let him know. Cecht started tapping his hand on the counter and sighed. "Hello, Aleandor! Fair weather this bright day, no? I trust the gods have been kind to you lately?" He finished with a flourish of his free hand.

  "You know," Aleandor started, lowering his magnifying glass and turning to face the sarcastic youth, "back in my day a slave like you would have been raped and murdered the first day they were abducted."

  "Back in your day you were a lawless band of rapists and murderers. You did that to everyone."

  "Not me, boy." Aleandor began raising a wagging finger. "I'll have you know I--"

  "You were a founding member of the council, you helped bring law and civilization, and then you started this shop." Cecht had lifted his tapping finger and made a rolling motion with the hand, carrying the conversation through the same old story he had heard time and time again. "I've heard the story before. Now, would you be so kind as to answer me?"

  Aleandor placed the ring he had been working on in front of Cecht. It had a simple, thick golden band with an ivory disc set on top. In the disc was carved the front of a rearing unicorn. "Yes, it's ready. I finished it this morning and have been placing some touch ups on it since. It will do everything you asked for, but are you sure it's what you want? It'll cost the entire amount of funds you’ve been provided, and it’s very dangerous."

  Cecht picked up the ring and rolled it around in his fingers. He ran his thumb over the unicorn carving, feeling its texture. "You always provide the best merchandise, old man," he said, slipping the ring on one of his fingers. "Yes, I'm sure I want this. If it does everything I asked for it is more than worth the cost." He turned from the jeweler and held up his hand, palm out. He focused his mind on the ring, directing his magic into it. Moments later an oval disc of shimmering white light materialized before his palm, light denser than any material and nigh unbreakable. It was slightly larger than him and opaque, with a bright outline of blue light. A grin appeared on the young wizard's face.

  He straightened himself and once more focused on the unicorn ring as he poured more magic into it. The opaque shield of white light dimmed into darkness before it ceased to exist, tearing a hole in the fabric of space and time. Inside the blue oval lay a separate dimension. A dimension Cecht was free to carry around with him.

  He took a copper coin from one of the many pockets in his robe and tossed it through the portal. The coin passed seamlessly into the hole, where it disappeared.

  "Dimensional magic is dangerous boy; you're just as likely to kill yourself with it as you are Saccius."

  "I know, old man, I know." Cecht willed the rift to close, took off the ring, and set it on the counter. "I wouldn't have asked for it if I didn't think it was necessary," he said, leaning on the counter. "Now, do you also have the other item I asked for?" Aleandor took in Cecht for a moment, judging the boy. The renegade slave was well known throughout town as being unusually outspoken and dangerously arrogant, both things that made him the talk of the town, but only because he could back up his words. Those who couldn’t didn't live for very long.

  "Yes, I have it," he said after a time. He turned around and pulled an item off the work bench behind him. It was a long, leather scroll tube with golden leaf detail inlaid on top. Aleandor unscrewed the top and pulled out a thick piece of rolled parchment. He unrolled it on the counter and placed weights at its edges. Blue runes glowed along its surface, written by a magical implement in a long dead language that once held great magical powers. While it had once held within it a powerful spell, now it only told of basic dimensional magic theory. It told little, but still more than Cecht, and most wizards of the era, currently knew.

  Cecht's eyes wandered over the parchment, soaking in as much detail as he could. He had only a novice’s grasp of the language, but he made out enough to at least tell what certain sections might mean.

  "With this you will be able to wield the ring a little better, and perhaps, just perhaps, not kill yourself before you win," Aleandor said.

  "You have my thanks, old man. Are you sure you don't want anything for it?" Cecht asked.

  "I have no use for it. And sands and stones, boy, I think I've grown soft for you. I want to see you succeed and get out of here." Aleandor winked at the young wizard. Cecht scoffed at the sappy notion.

  "Sure you have. And next you'll ask for my hand in marriage, I bet," the boy said.

  "Not everyone's as callous as the world might have you think," Aleandor replied. "Some people do genuinely care about others, even if they hail from Caldea."

  "Spare me the sentimental baggage, old man," Cecht said, standing up straight and rolling up the parchment. "I get abducted and brought to this hell hole, and not a one of you has any problem with it. You just tell me that that's the way it's always been and that it's none of your business what a wizard lord does." He scoffed and put the parchment into its tube and screwed on the top. "At least my family’s looking for me, probably."

  Aleandor put his arms on the counter and leaned forward. "Have you heard anything from them, boy?"

  "Nothing in all the eight months I’ve been here. But enough about this, it doesn't matter." In truth the wizard didn’t care about his family one way or the other. He had given up on them long ago, but it was best if everyone in Caldea thought he still cared.

  Cecht pulled out a large purse filled with coins from inside his robe and set it down in front of Aleandor. "That will cover the ring, as agreed." He pulled out another, smaller pouch, and set it down next to the larger one. "And that will cover the parchment. I don't want to owe you anything, and I won't have a need of Caldean money after tonight." Aleandor swept up the two bags in turn, with a reluctant look on his face as he took the smaller one.

  "I suppose that's right,” the jeweler said. “Caldean money won't do you any good outside of Caldea." He looked Cecht in the eyes and gave a smile and a nod. "Best of luck, boy, you're going to need it."

  "Nonsense, old man," Cecht said, pocketing his ring and scroll tube. "I'm the best damn slave-apprentice this city's ever seen, and I've got a ring from the best damn jeweler in it. I'll wipe the arena floor with Saccius." The young wizard turned to head for the door.

  "Farewell," Aleandor called.

  "I guess," Cecht said, waving a hand over his shoulder. He pulled open the plain door and stepped out into the dry heat of the desert town.

  Slight winds blew sand and dust about while dirty citizens mulled around going from market stand to market stand and into shops for their daily business. They ignored him with little effort, as Caldeans did with the slaves of wizard lords. It was none of their business, and anyone who got too interested disappeared.

  Cecht was different than most slaves, nigh impossible to break and allowed an amount of freedom unheard of before in a slave. He caught a few glances out of the corner of his eyes from here and there, folk that knew about tonight. Several believed that Ce
cht might be the first slave to win his freedom in the arena.

  Wager records were broken as half the town bet on the young boy both ways and rumors circled around about the donations he had received anonymously from other wizard lords. He had received more than any other slave ever had and from a greater number of lords than all of them combined. Despite the mundane appearance to the city's surface, underneath it was buzzing with activity and anticipation.

  Cecht passed through the town in a hurry, trying to attract as little attention as possible as he fiddled with the ring and scroll tube through his robe. He stopped only once, briefly, at the arena broker where he asked if any more donations had come in, but none had.

  Cecht arrived at the sprawling estate of the wizard lord who claimed ownership of him. The iron gates opened into a courtyard encased in