Wizard Tournament: Chapter 10 (Patreon)

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          The crowd gave a whoop of delight when Peter dropped dead. Most of them did anyway. Sylnya jumped up and booed loudly. “Go fuck yourself, Korack!” she shouted.

          The bell chimed high in the stands from the judge’s stand. “Peter is dead,” Maeve announced. “Korack wins.”

          “You can’t really say you didn’t expect that,” Draevin told Sylnya when she returned to her seat.

          “No, but he could’ve at least brought his damn scroll with him,” she said.

          On the arena floor below Korack waved his arms excitedly to his fans and blew out a gout of flames from his mouth. It made a showy flash and the small pocket of lizard-kin who’d made the long trip from Kreet started a chant of, “Ko-rack! Ko-rack!” that rippled around the arena and was adopted by all but the stubborn group of humans way in the back.

          Another pair of white-robed medical wizards marched on stage to haul off Peter’s body, but this time none of the engineering acolytes even bothered to show up since the battleground had been completely undamaged by the brief attack. With a final wave to the crowd, Korack stepped off the stage.

          The bell chimed from the judge’s stand. Again.

          All the cheering from the crowd stopped and a buzz of conversation broke out. “The hell was that?” Sylnya asked.

          “I don’t know. I’ve never heard it chime twice. I thought it was magically tuned to the arena.”

          “Quiet down,” Maeve announced. For once everyone listened. “It seems… Korack has left the arena boundary. He is eliminated. We ask that Peter reveal himself and make his way to the judge’s stand. In the meantime, please stand by while the judges deliberate their ruling.”

          When Maeve finished her speech, Peter suddenly appeared. He was lying on the ground in the dirt right where he’d stepped out of his box. In the same moment he appeared, the nearby medical wizards carting his “body” away disappeared. Peter stood up and dusted himself off. He tried to give a wave to the crowd, but as soon as everyone realized he wasn’t really dead the shouting started. A low-pitched roar of disapproval resounded from all around and a few of the lizard-kin in the crowd even tried to rush the field. They were held back by purple-robed Guild acolytes, while a pair of guards approached Peter to march him off-stage.

          “What just happened?” Draevin asked. “Are you seeing this?”

          “I have no idea,” Sylnya answered. “That looked like high-level sensomancy to me though.”

          “Senso—” Draevin sputtered. “Is he secretly an illusionist? How is that possible!”

          “I don’t have a fuckin’ clue, Drae. He never said anything to me.”

          Peter and his escort were just reaching the higher level where an elected judge from each of the major nations sat; a dwarf from Kundreil, a lizard-kin from Kreet, an elf from Caldenia, a dryad from Setsya and an eldrin from Eldesia. Though they normally each sat on well-spaced chairs they now crowded around Peter in a huddle. Korack came storming up the stairs after them huffing smoke out of his nose. Draevin was too far away to hear, but if he knew anything about Korack he knew he was probably shouting profanities in Kreetish by now.

          “Hahaha! Just look at him!” Draevin said in abject glee. “He can’t believe it!”

          “I can’t either. Do you think they’ll rescind his elimination?”

          Draevin’s smile froze on his face. “They better not. With Korack out, I’ve got a clean shot of reaching the finals this year.”

          Out in the stands the crowd was getting riled up; ambient conversations were starting to approach the volume of a shout. The meeting between Peter and the judges reached a fever pitch up in the judge’s stand as well. Draevin spotted the lizard-kin judge grab Peter by his shirt and yell in his face. “That doesn’t look very professional,” he commented.

          Sylnya didn’t have a chance to reply. A high pitched ringing suddenly ripped through the air accompanied by an earthquake of some kind that shook the stands. All around the arena onlookers were falling to their knees and clutching at their ears. Draevin couldn’t help but join them. It felt like someone had put his head in a vice. Just when he thought he was going to start bleeding out his ears it stopped as suddenly as it had started.

          “Whatthefuckwasthat?” Sylnya blurted too fast to make out any individual words. She was rubbing the side of her face, though she had managed to stay in her seat, unlike Draevin.

          Draevin pulled himself off the ground and looked around the field. Spectators were coming to their feet everywhere. “That felt like a sonamancy attack,” Draevin answered. “Was that Maeve?”

          “I don’t know,” Sylnya replied. “I didn’t think she was that powerful. But if she was trying to calm down the crowd that definitely did the trick.”

          “Attention ladies and gentlemen,” Maeve announced into the calm that followed. “The judges have made a ruling. Neither contestant will be allowed to advance. However, as a concession to Peter for having not been eliminated he will be allowed to continue competing as an alternate for Drant’ro. The schedule will be updated accordingly.”

          This news got the crowd buzzing again, though at a more subdued volume this time.

          “I’ve never heard a ruling like that,” Draevin told Sylnya. “Sounds like a fair compromise though.”

          “Fair?” Sylnya objected in a voice too loud for Draevin’s suddenly-sensitive ears. “Peter’s going to have to compete in round one twice after beating last year’s champion! How is that fair?”

          “Well he wasn’t disqualified,” Draevin pointed out. “Considering that was on the table I think he can count himself lucky.”

          “May I have your attention,” Maeve announced once more. “There seems to be some confusion regarding the results of that last match. While Peter did not advance he is still considered to be the victor for betting purposes.”

          “Noooo!” Sylnya shouted into the air. She clenched her fists and shook them at the sky. “How could they do this to me!”

          “What? Don’t tell me you bet on Korack. You’d make better money digging through trash cans with those odds.”

          “That’s not it,” Sylnya pouted. “I just realized I could have paid off all my debts! Those odds were insane!”

          Draevin just chuckled. “Can we talk about Peter now?”

          “What about him?”

          “The fact that he clearly used magic!” Draevin kicked Peter’s leather satchel and it jangled with all the empty glass bottles inside. “And now I’m thinking he must’ve drank all the empty mana potions in his bag. Is he a wizard?”

          “I mean this is a wizard tournament, it doesn’t seem that far-fetched to me. What makes you think I would know though? He never once brought up the topic of his own strategy.”

          “And you never asked?” 

          “You want to know so bad? You ask him! He might even tell you if you weren’t such an insufferable prick to him for once.”

          “I’m not a—”

          “Oh come on Drae, you barely give the kid the time of day. I distinctly remember you celebrating when he went off to his match because you thought you were finally done with him.”

          “Well that’s because I thought he was just a useless human. I didn’t know he was a wizard.”

          “The next match between Dwyra and Pellanrae will begin shortly as normal,” Maeve announced while they waited for Peter to return.

          “By the way,” Draevin added, “did you see Peter cast a spell before Korack hit him?”

          “No.”

          “Hmmm,” Draevin pondered that thought with some concern. He hadn’t either. He didn’t want to admit it, but the evidence seemed to suggest that not only was Peter capable of magic—something humans weren’t supposed to be capable of—but that he was… “You don’t think it’s possible he’s a master illusionist, do you Syl?”

          “I mean he told me he was twenty six years old. Didn’t it take you more than a century to master cryomancy?”

          “What? It wasn’t that long!” Draevin said defensively. If he only tallied up the hours he spent practicing and not the total days it was far less than a century. He found the thought that Peter might have accomplished the feat faster than him disquieting.

          Peter quietly slid inside the booth a moment later. “What took you so long?” Sylnya asked him right away.

          “I had to talk to… someone about a… thing,” he answered evasively.

          “That was a neat trick with Korack,” Sylnya told him cheerfully.

          Peter’s face went hard. He sat down in his seat rougher than strictly necessary and glared at his notepad without actually opening it. “For nothing! All that and they just make me fight in round one a second time!”

          Draevin saw an opportunity to ingratiate himself with this new human wizard. “I was actually impressed,” he said. “Whatever else happens, you managed to eliminate Korack. That’s something even I can’t do.” He was actually pretty sure his new wand would have done the trick, but he knew ingratiation required at least the outward appearance of humility.

          Peter looked up from his glowering with a confused look on his face. Sylnya actually smirked. Draevin made sure to move in before she could make a snide comment and undermine his compliment. “So, does this mean you were secretly a master illusionist this whole time?” He reached out and touched Peter’s ears. They felt round. “You’re not really a half-elf or something, are you?”

          Peter batted his hand away. “No, just a regular human. But…” He trailed off and seemed to consider his next words carefully. “I am a master illusionist. I thought it would give me an edge if nobody knew what I could do, but I guess the secret is out now. It was just a one-time trick, but I was hoping it would get me past the first round.”

          “What was that trick exactly?” Draevin asked.

          Peter self-consciously fiddled with his glasses while he answered. “Just Invisibility coupled with a Mirror Image. The judges got mad because I tricked them into ringing the bell with an illusion up in their stand. Maeve’s first announcement was just a bonus.”

          Draevin was delighted with himself. Sylnya was right, all he needed to do was be a bit nicer and the human was suddenly telling him everything. “So,” Draevin added next, “you going to tell us how it is you’re able to cast magic in the first place? I was under the impression humans weren’t capable.”

          “Have you ever tried to teach one?” Peter snapped. There was a hint of hostility in his voice.

          “Well no. But you don’t have a mana pool, and from what I’ve heard you people can’t even feel mana.”

          “Sure,” Peter agreed. “But someone deaf can learn to sing can’t they? It just takes more work is all.”

          “But the mana!” Draevin pointed out.

          Peter looked him in the eye. If he was trying for gravitas the effect was somewhat diminished when he had to push his glasses back up his nose. “What makes you think humans don’t have any mana?”

          “Because you don’t,” he answered simply. “I saw you at The Pot this morning. It went right through you.”

          “Can you not put mana in a scroll? A potion? Just because our bodies can’t hold very much doesn’t mean they can’t hold any.”

          That actually did make a bit of sense. “So is that why you’re an illusionist then?” Draevin asked. “Because illusions use such a small amount of mana?”

          Peter shrugged. “It’s my natural harmonic,” he said easily. “That it’s cheap to cast is just a happy coincidence.”

          Draevin had so many more questions. How did he learn magic? How did he become a master so quickly? He would have to save his questions for later. The crowd was quieting down for the next match.

          Sylnya playfully slugged Draevin in the arm. “I had almost given up on you,” she said. “Maybe I can make a decent person out of you yet.”

          “Very funny Syl.”

          Down on the field the next two contestants were taking their positions. Draevin pointed to the red, speckled one. “So is Dwyra a dryad or not?” He asked Sylnya. After the mix up with Grrbraa earlier he figured it would be safer just to ask.

          “Oh-my-gods Draevin, do you live under a rock? How do you not know about Dwyra? She’s Setsyan royalty! Of course she’s a dryad!”

          “Well you can’t expect me to follow all your weird politics, and she’s some kind of mushroom, not... wait a second. Setsya doesn’t have a monarchy!”

          “Ex-royalty,” Sylnya corrected. She then shushed Draevin with an upheld finger.

          “Dwyra is a dryad fungomancer representing the Setsya’s rightful ruling Monarchy,” Maeve said with her enhanced voice. Draevin was glad to hear a bit of muttering from the crowd at this announcement. At least he wasn’t the only one confused. ”She is carrying High Cleric Grendel’s Censer of Gentle Mists and her wish if she wins this year’s tournament is to permanently kill Necro-King Brorn and return the land he stole to the Setsyan Federation. Dwyra wants everyone to know that Brornia’s spread has gone on long enough. She hopes that Necro-King Brorn watches her match closely before he considers another incursion into her territory.” Dwyra’s red-speckled form held up a small metal incense burner on the end of a chain that looped around her neck. The censer. It was a famous artifact, but not one that Draevin had ever seen used in combat.

          “You dryad’s okay with her going around calling your nation hers like that?” Draevin asked.

          Sylnya shrugged. “I don’t have a problem with it. Dwyra’s a badass, just you wait and see!”

          Dwyra’s opponent was announced next. “Pellanrae is a dwarf metallurgist representing the Kundreil Weaponry Company. She is carrying a supply of adamantine sand and her wish is to turn the disputed territory of Trenal into a non-magical zone so Caldenia and Eldesia can settle their conflict without spilling wizard blood. Pellanrae wants everyone to ‘Remember, you can’t spell dwarf without war,’ and to pick up an authentic dwarf-forged axe or breastplate today! All axes are 25% off until the 25th!” The announcer, Maeve, managed to make a cheerful voice while reading this sales pitch, unlike she had with Peter’s sponsor. The large burlap sack that the stout little dwarf woman hoisted over her shoulder didn’t look very impressive, but indestructible metal sand was a powerful tool in the hands of a metallurgist.

          “What does that item Dwyra has do?” Peter asked Sylnya just before the match started.

          Sylnya was focused intensely on the field and didn’t spare Peter a moment’s glance when she answered. “It makes healing mists, shhh! I have money riding on this match!”

          Draevin chuckled to himself. Of course she did. The bell chimed and the next match began.

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