The Collection

The Arena

The air crackled with unharnessed electricity as the two wizards faced off, their eyes locked and practically sizzling with intensity. They stood inside a large circle of runes carved into the stone floor, surrounded on all sides by a crowd, rising up on either side in a roiling sea of humanity. 

Just a moment before, the two had bowed, and the audience had let out a earth-shaking roar. But now, the spectators held their breaths, all eyes riveted to the silent struggle of wills in front of them. One combatant wore a simple mask, his eye-slits glowing a deep arcane orange from the occult presence lurking behind it. The other, was wrapped in a glamour, their shape pulsing and writhing like a shadow. never staying in one shape for long enough to be recognizable. Step by step the two circle each other, the only sound the scrape of boots on stone, the expectant crowd watching the pair intently,a hush having fallen heavily over the cavern. The silence was broken by the first spell, and the spectators cheered in approval. A burst of arcane flame went from the shadow's hand towards the masked figure, sparking in the air as it tried to wrap itself around the man in  lengths of burning chain. The masked man knocked it away with a cloud of  writhing purple smoke and moved forward, trading bolts of energy back and forth with the flickering figure. It was a deadly dance as the two whirled and spun around each other, the flashes of light crisscrossing, only to shatter harmlessly on a shield or to be eaten up by the ferocity of the other's attacks. Finally, they broke away, both sweating and panting, but the battle was far from over. 

With a flick of his hand, the glamoured mage summoned a fireball and sent it arcing towards his opponent, simultaneously hurling a volley of stone ripped from the rocky floor by a flick of an enchanted hand. In response, a shimmering wall of force smashed the projectiles aside, cracking under the impact, but allowing the unscathed wizard with the burning eyes to respond with a barrage of his own. This time, the two were buffeted by gale-force winds, and lightning  crashed down, thunder booming overhead and crackling arcs of  electricity cutting through the air, leaving behind the acrid taste of elemental to linger in the air. The shadowy wizard took the lightning in the chest, and was sent sailing from his feet towards the edge of the arena. As he reached the circle of runes on the floor, the ancient arcane systems blazed to life with a turquoise light. He slammed into the unseen barrier that marked the edge of the arena, sending blue ripples over the wall of force in all directions, lighting up the dome of protection separating the two combatants from the crowd. 

The glamour was starting to come off as he lay there, momentarily stunned. The black shape was shedding  tendrils of darkness, leaving behind a humanoid man of incredible age, slumped on the ground. His opponent smelled victory, and closed in to finish him off. The downed wizard, however grabbed the shadows from the air, twining them together into a barrage of bolts of pure death. Slipping under the volley with unnatural speed, the Masked man closed the distance for the final blow with the expectation of victory, only to find his felled opponent  materializing on the other side of the ring, already hurling shafts of ice across the distance as the telaportation spell ended. Instinctively, the masked being moved his hands and spoke a word. A spire of earth rose into the way, the ice shattering on it before it could reach him. He breathed out in relief, his eyes still searing bright through the slits in his mask.  

The shadow once more wreathed himself in black smoke  and leaped over the shining barrier erected by the other sorcerer, a  glowing silver orb of energy forming in his hand. He  was met by a fist encased in glowing red energy as he hurtled towards the leaping shadow. The orbs detonated anyway ,scorching the masked face in an explosion of crackling electricity  that arced outwards, striking the ground and leaving scorch marks on the cave floor. The impact sent the defender's body hurtling back to the ground. Groaning, the mask stirred and looked up to see the shadowmancer already recovered and descending upon him, a spear of pure fire clutched in his hands. In a single desperate motion, the masked wizard catches the plunging tip of the spear and snaps the summoned weapon with a pulse of energy. He wasn't going to go down that easily. 

With a snarl encased in menace, the black twisting figure disengaged from his masked combatant, tossing out a volley of burning bolts in a wide spread around the circular arena, retreating to his side of the circle, probing  for another opening in his rival's defenses. The Masked one looked straight at the living shadow and clapped his hands together. Enough was enough. A blinding flash of light lit the arena, causing searing pain and blindness to many of the audience, even protected from magic as they were. When the white light dispersed, the arena was still let by jets of light. The floor had been torn asunder, and the two combatants hovered above a sizzling stream of molten lava,the shadow held aloft  by midnight black storm clouds, the mask  by the beat of great leathery wings extending from his shoulder blades.

 Still shrouded in his mask and deep brown robes, the winged magician swooped in, a blade of pure silver summoned in his hand. The other waited, the clouds gathering around his writhing shape. There was a hiss of metal as the sword passed right through the glamoured shape, and that's when he realized he'd made his mistake. But it was too late: a chunk of rain cloud split from its brethren,  taking the shape of a writhing black figure. The illusion the masked man had just slashed through, turned in on itself and then into a thousand daggers hissing towards the brown cloaked man. He ignored them, and turned towards the black figure, but it was far too late.

A torrent of black smoke constricted the wings, crushing them into nothingness. His arcane defenses had been broken by the ferocity of the unexpected attack. Shadow crawled over his body and abruptly,  the light behind the mask died. The bought was over. 

The floor groaned back into being, the molten rock disappearing into it like it had never been there at all, replaced by the same cavern floor. The victor descended to it, lowering his unconscious opponent to the ground as well.

He was met by the silence of a crowd of people  holding their breath in excited anticipation. He bowed once to the audience, breaking the quiet moment into thousands of slivers of glass. The spectators  roared in approval, right as his shape blinked, and vanished, leaving the onlookers to cheer on an absent victor.

***This is such a weird scene I wrote. It lacks so much context, and the reader learns very little about either of 'the characters'. It doesn't have a real point and the author never leads it anywhere. While the descriptions of the battle isn't terrible, it's really just gratuitous spell casting. It has promise, but it's a sequence that doesn't mean anything to the reader. I'm publishing it anyway,because what the heck, readers might know what to do with it better than I. ***