C10 The Wand and the Stone

Chapter 10. The Wand and the Stone

It had been two days at sea since Kench decided to train with Valera; two long, grueling days. He practiced and worked almost every waking moment, finding himself falling asleep in the strangest of places. Whether it was at mealtime, during his brief rests, on the toilet...really anywhere Kench sat down.

What made matters worse is it brought out a side of Valera he didn’t miss. Before they were together, she would push him to improve every day at La Semana De Los Gladiadores. She had awakened a drive inside of him that Kench hadn’t known existed. This was no different. The issue was, Kench felt like just spending time with her talking, or holding each other. Valera had put her foot down. Only after a practice, and only if she deemed the practice to be successful.

They had started with transmuting, which proved to be very similar to spells he used in his cooking. It was within the first few hours of practice he began to turn seawater into wine. The wine wasn’t very good at first, but an hour or two more of training and the crew took a hearty liking to it. Next, they had worked on bewitching animals. There were no animals onboard, and he didn’t see any fish, so he had taken his newly created wine, and transmuted it into earthworms. That was difficult enough as it was, yet to make matters worse it got him punched by a sailor who came in for a wineskin. Much to the crewman’s surprise, instead of tasting Kenchs’ delightful creation, he found himself choking and gasping on a mouthful of worms.

The setback aside, in his baking, he often enchanted his confections to take themselves out of the oven; or cast enchantments on wooden spoons to stir on their own. Kench employed the same technique on the worms, and though the charm didn’t do anything to them at first, with more effort and a slight tweak, a single worm began to respond.

He started with just the one and got it to climb an elaborate series of shelves. Valera had told him that the one worm was almost nothing and that he needed to be able to enchant a good many worms to accurately replicate an intelligent animal. He had stayed up all night trying, and couldn’t muster more than two or three at a time.

“I think it’s time for the baker to sleep,” he said to himself. He was on the front deck of the ship, wrapped in a cloak.

“Perhaps,” said a raspy voice behind him. Kench jumped with surprise. “Perhaps you’re just not doing the magic right.”

“Oh, Captain Nightsfog, I didn’t see you there,” Kench said.

“I could tell,” the old man growled. The weathered old captain limped towards him, leaning heavily on his walking stick. “Here’s the thing, you’re just forcing the worms to move where you want. You’re not bewitching a damned thing. If you want the worms to listen, you’ve got to appeal to ‘em! They’re worms, but even worms of the earth have feelin’s.”

“Um, I’m sorry?” Kench said.

“Damn fool boy!” said the old man, grabbing Kench’s arm and pointing it at the earthworm. “You point the wand, and say vita copulare! Say the damn spell, you’re close enough to the magic that at this point it should come naturally. Dammit boy, try!”

“Um, vita copulare!” Kench said. His feet flipped over his head, and he fell face first onto the worms. He lifted himself off the deck of the ship and glared at Nightsfog. The old man couldn’t breathe through wheezy laughter. “I’m trying to make this work! Why would you do that to me?” Kench asked passionately.

“Shut your mouth, fish guts!” Nightsfog said through laughter. He had taken to calling Kench that, as Kench had on more than one occasion, spilled the contents of his stomach overboard to the fish. “Watch.” The man chuckled for a few moments before pointing his walking stick at the only worm that wasn’t crushed by Kench. “Vita copulare,” he said. Nothing happened. Then, after a few more moments, nothing continued to happen.

“Great, nothing. Thanks for that Captain Nightsfog. I’m going to bed,” Kench said, turning away.

“Are you sure about that?” Nightsfog grumbled. He clanked his walking stick as he hobbled to the old wooden rail on the edge of the deck and sat down.

“Yes,” Kench said matter of factly.

“Look at the worm boy!” Nightsfog barked at him.

Kench flinched at the old man's sudden yell then looked at the worm. It was, well it was doing the worm. “It’s dancing!”

“You bet your ass it is!” Nightsfog said. “And it’s a hell of a dance! I forgot to tell you, brace yourself physically before you cast the spell, then let yourself be open and loose both mentally and emotionally.”

“Can you control any animals with that?” Kench asked.

“Vita copulare!” The old captain yelled, smashing his walking stick hard onto the ship's deck. The man's eyes closed and he sat in silence for a few long moments before a tremendous silhouette erupted from the water behind him. Large tentacles grabbed the old man from the railing and lifted him high into the air. “I’d like to introduce you to Webby!” the old man hollered. “Kraken of the seven seas! The reason my ship goes wherever it wants!”

Kench looked up to the old man who was dangling in the silhouetted monster's grip. Behind the Kraken, a pod of whales had breached. The surface of the water erupted as school’s of fish leaped continuously from below. The water looked like it was in a raging boil with all the motion.

“You can do a great many things with this spell Kench! But first, the earthworm!” yelled Nightsfog over the roar of the churning waters below.

Finnigan woke with Fei nestled warmly against his side. Most of the candles in the room had burnt out. He slowly slid away, careful not to wake the sleeping beauty. He was unsure about the night before, his emotions had become so convoluted. He was aware that he had no choice in what had started, but he didn’t fight the woman off. After a few moments, she released him, and it was all consensual. He was her captive, but now what else was he?

He slipped out of bed and grabbed his leather pouch, opening it outside the door on a small table. Within the pouch was an almost identical outfit to what he had worn yesterday, but with the insignia of the duelist emblazoned on the right breast. The shoes were even placed neatly on his small rack for footwear. He donned the clothing, knowing that Fei would force him to wear it when she saw him.

“Who went through my stuff?” he mumbled to himself. He went through everything else to make sure nothing was missing, then wrapped up the lot of it. It shrank down to the single leather pouch which he then fastened to his waist. He took one look back into the room and saw Fei’s nude body resting peacefully on the bed. Memories of the night before rushed back to him, fondness for her gentle touch clashed against distaste for the situation as a whole.

He left the room, closing the door as quietly as he could. No sooner than it was shut a smooth female voice behind him said, “Pardon me sir, but where is your attendant?”

Finnigan turned to see a member of the Regalia standing in the hallway beside the door. “My attendant?” he asked.

“The holy warrior commanded that the ornament attend you night and day. Where is she?” the regalia asked again.

Recalling the night before, Finnigan blushed and said, “I’ve commanded my attendant to remain in the quarters and await my return while I go for a morning stroll.” He tried his best to sound official. “Now, she is busily attending my needs, guard this door and see that she is not disturbed.”

Finnigan turned and walked away. He pulled a pocket watch from his leather pouch and found it was just past four in the morning. That’s when he always woke up, which meant he only got about three hours of sleep. He never really needed much more than that. He followed the same corridors he used the night before to find the front entrance. He walked to the doors and pushed hard, they didn’t open.

A low humming sound from behind Finnigan startled him. He turned and saw two armored guards standing mere paces from him. He had mistaken them for suits of armor; he wouldn’t do that again.

“I’d like to walk the grounds,” he said to them. In unison, they rose their spears and slammed the butts on the hard stone floor. The doors creaked outward, letting Finnigan leave. He didn’t like the armored guard, because not even the translation charm in the palace seemed to work on them.

“Thanks,” he said as he strode out. He heard the strange humming sound emanating from within the guards. He lengthened his stride, then descended the steps to the palace and turned left. He found a trail and followed it. It wound down through the silhouettes of the many trees on the palace grounds. To the right, was a smaller path which Finnigan took. It led him down into a large clearing where the grass was still green. He jogged the ends of the pitch several times before dropping into a series of deep stretches. Every morning was done in like fashion, always pushing himself with his workouts. After his stretch, he switched to sprinting the pitch. Once he had winded himself thoroughly, he switched to pushup and situps.

After that, he worked on a series of exercises used to enhance his balance. He climbed a tree and lept from branch to branch, then tree to tree. He was going higher and higher around the field with the branches getting smaller the higher he went. He landed as lightly as he could on a particularly small branch which creaked in protest to his weight. There was nowhere else to jump. So, he turned gingerly so as not to let the branch break, which of course, is exactly what it did. He fell straight down, and was not close enough to the trunk to grab on. He snapped through branches as he went, hitting them with his boots to avoid injury. He landed in a roll onto the grass beneath with a chuckle.

Pulling out his wand, he practiced the motions common in duels. Most duelists practiced the spells, and not so much the movements. Finnigan made sure he had his motions down. Professional dueling was lazier than it had ever been. No finesse. No art. Finnigan looked to change that. What once was in professional dueling, whirlwinds of magic, had become linear. Even the duelists emblem featured two magicians with magic swirling all around. Finnigan couldn’t find anyone to teach him how to bend spells through the air. In his matchup with Kench, he was able to figure it out. As was Kench. Finnigan wanted to know if he could do it again. But first, the basics.

Those went on for two hours, practicing his movements for the riposte, blasting small jets of air from his wand instead of actual spells. He switched and drilled his defensive series, which was a stance meant to hold an enemy at bay if ripostes weren’t an option. He had used that against Kench between ripostes to prevent the baker from striking him.

Finally, Finnigan worked on his accuracy. He walked to a nearby tree and made a series of red rings on it with his wand. After moving to a distance that made the bullseye seem very small indeed, he began. He started simple at first, casting spells every few seconds and watching them hit the bullseye. His accuracy was good, it always was when he started; but good, and world class duelist were not the same thing. He fired again and again until he was only hitting bullseyes, then he added speed. More and more until he had a constant stream of magic pouring out of his wand. The spell was relatively harmless, a simple tickle spell. He stole the idea from Kench if he was being honest with himself. Even still, the magic of that many tickle spells made the tree shudder. If Finnigan didn’t know better, which he didn’t, he could have sworn the tree was reacting to being tickled. He took a small break, and the quivering tree slowly grew still. He walked up to it and gently rested his hand on the bark. The tree quivered to his touch, and he found himself chuckling merrily.

He tickled it and it began to quiver even more. “I’m tickling a tree,” he said with a laugh. “Alright, I’ll use a different spell,” he told the tree. He walked back to where he had been standing and began to cast a different spell; a spell from when he was a boy. He worked all that time ago on apple trees at his family's cabin. This spell was used to rejuvenate and refresh a tree. He jumped in as fast as he could, creating a stream of magic. It hit the tree and the boughs thickened, the trunk straightened and new blossoms began to grow. The spells seemed to hit their mark, so Finnigan focused his inner eye on every spell. It slowed him down somewhat, creating small gaps in his stream of magic, but he was more aware of the magic. Magicians were taught simple words that had been bound to magical effects, and to master a spell you had to put feeling behind it. The more emotion, the more feeling you invested, the more powerful the spell. The more you practiced spells at a higher level, the more easily you could perform that bit of magic.

Finnigan focused everything into the spells themselves. His awareness shifted, and the tree began to blossom more rapidly, quickly growing leaves. The color stood out against the trees around it, green in the middle of oranges and reds. He turned his wand, and for a fleeting moment the spell seemed to turn slightly in the air. Then he lost control of the magic, shooting wide of the tree.

That was the first step against Kench, he could feel his spells getting batted out of the air by Kench’s deflections. He had to feel them in the air. He focused on the spells after they left instead of before. They weakened as he changed his focus. How had Kench managed to keep his as golden beams during their duel? That was remarkable in and of itself. Finnigan made a note to himself to ask Kench if they ever met again.

A surge of energy shot through Finnigan at the realization. His awareness of the spells gave him slight control. He honed in on that sensation and pulled them with all of his mental energy to change the directions of the magic. He was shooting left, then right, then left, then right, replicating Kench’s style. Eventually, the spells began to hit the edges of the bullseye. He focused on his wand and felt a surge of power emanating from it; his power stone. Pushing its energy back into itself, Finnigan let his own natural power take over.

Closer and closer his spells landed to the center of the bullseye. Finally, they began to hit the mark. At first, it was only one or two, then it was slightly less than half. The light of the sun was radiating from the sides of the mountains now, tickling the tops of the trees.

Finnigan was pouring sweat and felt his body shaking with the effort. He sat down on the wet grass letting the refreshing water soak into his clothing. He held his wand out and water flowed from the tip, creating an orange sized sphere which hung for a moment in the air. The bubble of water floated up, then he pressed his lips to it and drank.

“You don’t use your power stone,” said a familiar voice. “Why not?”

“Good morning Fei,” Finnigan said, standing. “How was your sleep?”

“Restful. Let me inspect your wand.” Finnigan handed it to her. “The stone on your wand, it is not a typical power stone. It’s what’s called an imperial stone. You’re favored with a precious gift, my little lost puppy. It can do what every stone on my wand can do by itself. You made this wand yourself, how long ago?” she asked.

“When I was a boy,” Finnigan said.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Fei closed her eyes and held the wand quietly in her hand for several seconds. “You did well, it needs some refining though if you’re to truly use the power stone without burning out your wand.”

“Refining?” Finnigan looked at his wand. Slender, white, and absolutely perfect. He felt slightly offended. “It’s always suited me well.”

“I’m sure,” Fei said, handing his wand back. “Take it in your hands, and close your eyes.” Finnigan did as she instructed. “Now, open your inner eye. Focus on the wand, on the warmth that comes from it. You’ll feel layers of magic spread on the wand. You’ll remember spreading them there as a child. Do you?”

“Yes,” Finnigan said. It was a strange sensation, it made him feel like a boy again.

“Can you feel the ridges? Where the layers meet?”

“Yes,” he said.

“This is the reason the West cannot use power stones as we can. Even if you get them, they burn out your magical fulcrum more often than not. Those ridges attract power from the stone, and hold it. It overcharges your magic and burns the wand from the inside out. We need to smooth those out.”

“How?” Finnigan asked.

“The same way healers use vitality,” Fei said. “The same way you controlled your spells in your duel with the fat duelist, the same way we use all magic. Power of will! It’s through that will that the strong take power. It’s through that will that the world can be changed, exploited, and molded to what we want. So it is here. Now, use your inner eye to see your wand.”

Finnigan focused on the magic. He closed his eyes and focused on it with his inner eye. The wand lit up. It was powerful; blue and shining in his mind's eye. He pressed his will against one of the creases in his wand, it didn’t budge. It felt like it absorbed his will instead of yield to it. He drew more of his will, and gently pressed that into the wand as well. It seemed to let out a warmth that spread through his fulcrum. The heat radiated into the air around him, penetrating his very being. He remembered a similar sensation when he created the wand all those years ago.

As the magic of his wand heated, it became tractable to his will. He found one of the creases and pressed it down, smoothing it out to an even surface. It took time, but at long last, it felt as though it had never been there.

“Keep working those out,” Fei said. “You need to make it perfectly smooth. Only then can it be a suitable conductor for your stone.” Fei came in closer to Finnigan, she put her hands around his. He flinched and opened his eyes. “Close your eyes,” Fei snapped. “I will join you and observe your progress.”

Finnigan closed his eyes and refocused on his wand. After a few moments, he could feel the layers of magic again. He found another area that needed patching, and began to work on it.

“Very good, you’re a natural,” Fei said softly. “You missed a spot, right there at the tip.”

“Oh,” Finnigan breathed. He had missed it. He took his time smoothing it over, then inspected the entire thing; every detail until he was satisfied it was perfect.

“Now, take a moment, cast a spell through your wand. Tell me if you notice a difference,” Fei said.

Finnigan pointed his wand and shot a blast of air from it. It didn’t feel as though he was casting the spell, more as though the wand was performing the magic. It was smoother than he’d ever experienced.

“Now,” Fei said. “When the wand is made like this it becomes a natural conduit for magic of all forms, not just the magic normally used by a magician. Focus your inner eye on the base of the wand, where it meets the stone. Tell me what you see.”

“Nothing,” Finnigan said.

“Open your inner eye as wide as you can,” Fei said.

“Alright.” He focused on his inner eye, and opened it even further, exposing it to more ambient magic than he normally would have seen. His inner eye could see magical constructs, his own magic and spells of others. It struggled to see traces of others magic, unless it had existed for quite some time.

Now, with his inner eye as open as he could get it, he could see energy from his power stone slowly spreading into his wand. “I see it,” he said. “It’s spreading into the base.”

“Good, it’s supposed to. You need to spread it through your wand now to increase its ability to amplify your magic.”

“It won’t ruin my wand?” Finnigan asked

“It will strengthen it, we smoothed your magic to make sure it couldn’t ruin your wand,” Fei said. “With that spread it’ll make it easier for you to spread more magic through your wand in the future.”

“You sound like my brother,” Finnigan said. “He practiced wandcraft as well.”

“Gulliver was his name,” Fei said. “A most powerful magician, I was there those years ago in Hong Kong, when he turned himself in to the stewards.”

“Turned himself in? I thought Andromeda defeated him,” Finnigan said.

Fei laughed, “No, her? Never! Gulliver defeated armored guards. He made members of the Regalia fall from the skyscrapers of Hong Kong to their deaths. He was only pardoned because the crime syndicate he shattered had been a thorn in the side of the emperor. He was terrible, furious, and completely magnificent. He surrendered to the stewards. Neither they nor us could contain his magic.”

“He was always the most powerful between us,” Finnigan said.

“That remains to be seen,” Fei said. “From what I’ve read about your duels, your speed alone may well best your brother. Add this stone? I think the Regalia has found the true power from the Higginbotham family.”

Finnigan focused his inner eye on the wand again, finding the magic in the stone. He pulled on it, infused it with his will, then began to spread it. It seemed to permeate throughout his wand once it was infused with his will. The energy appeared red, and his will changed it to a brilliant orange. He kept at this, until his wand looked three or four times its size to his inner eye. He closed it, then opened his eyes. It was still the same beautiful, slender white wood it always had been, only now the stone appeared to be made from the same material.

“It’s perfect,” Fei said. “I’d wager you’ve already surpassed your brother in wandcraft.”

“Not likely,” Finnigan said. “He mastered it, that and wards.”

“Wards?” Fei asked. “As in defensive enchantments?”

“Not just that, he expanded them. He could make them fly around, do different things. We would duel, and he’d shoot those from his wand instead of spells.” Finnigan sighed. “They’d completely negate my magic, just make it so I couldn’t use a spell. He loved it, but I hated it.”

“The time may come when you and he test yourselves against each other, but for now, let’s practice with that new wand.” She sprang to her feet, drawing her wand and blasting a spell at Finnigan. He deflected it and rolled backwards, sending a riposte at the woman. She stepped behind nothing at all, and reappeared far to the side, well clear of the riposte. She sprayed a cone of water at him and he shot a deflection spell. It splashed into the water, letting the rest hit him.

“What if that was fire?” Fei asked. “Jade, finish him.” Jade appeared at Fei’s side while Fei put her wand back into her hair.

Jade pointed her wand at Finnigan, but nothing shot out. In fact, it seemed like her wand was absorbing something. The heat from the water! The water lining Finningan turned to a solid, freezing Finnigans outfit to himself. The cold crept through him, he could feel it slowing him down. He could also feel the warmth from his wand; power stone radiating energy through it.

“You feel it don’t you?” Fei yelled. “The power from the stone. Use it!”

“How?” Finnigan asked. He didn’t have time to wait for a reply, as Jade launched a molten orb from her wand. The heat she stole had been amplified and sent back his way. He deflected it, and it shot out past him, crashing into a nearby tree.

“This isn’t a duel,” Fei yelled. “Deflections only get you so far! Jade, exploit that weakness.”

“Yes, ornament,” Jade said. She waved her wand and a blizzard shot out. Finnigan tried to deflect it again on instinct as a duelist, but a tiny amount of snow being pushed aside wasn’t enough. The blizzard pounded against Finnigan, it was colder than he thought it should be. The warmth from his wand seemed to redouble, keeping his hand warm. The rest of him? He was a magician, but he was a freezing magician. He turned and ran with the blizzard and tucked himself behind a tree.

“Okay, you’ve made your point!” Finnigan yelled over the roar of the storm. Frost spread across its trunk, then Jade appeared in front of him, spraying him with a torrent of water from her wand. He shot a knockout spell at her, but she vanished as quickly as she appeared. The water on him began to freeze again. He shivered violently.

“You’ve got to fight back,” he said to himself. “You’re a duelist, you can win this.” He stood, then jumped out from behind the tree. His clothes cracked and shattered in some places as he moved. He pointed his wand, turning, looking for Jade. He couldn’t see her, which might have been lucky as his body wouldn’t respond. She appeared again, blasting another blizzard at him. He shot back spells as quickly as he could, but his mind seemed to go numb in the blizzard...along with the rest of him. He couldn’t see her through the snow storm anymore, but felt her easily swat aside his spells. Only his wand hand was warm. He ducked behind a tree again and held the warmth of the wand to his chest.

“The heat!” Fei yelled. “Channel like you would an enchantment. If you can’t, you don’t deserve to wield the stone!”

Finnigan refocused on his wand, opened his inner eye and reached for the heat of the stone. Jade appeared in front of him. She leveled her wand at his chest and another blast of ice and snow pressed Finnigan against the tree. He could feel the frostbite burning into him, switching from pain to an alarming numbness.

“The heat!” Fei screamed! “Channel it! Jade, if he does not, kill him with the cold!”

The blizzard intensified on Finnigan, and he closed his eyes and focused again with his inner eye on the power stone. He channeled his will into it; letting it fuse with his very magic. As it did, it spread its power towards him; following his magic back through him. With it came life giving warmth! It wasn’t the same as washing your hands with warm water when they were cold, but more like the feeling you get after a good shot of liquor. As it spread, sensation returned to his limbs and exposed flesh, burning pleasantly against the cold. The warmth seemed to surround him, creating a cocoon, a protective aura. He sat still, allowing it to fully warm his aching joints.

He pointed his wand at the blizzard, with his inner eye he could make out where Jade was standing, then bellowed, “stillabunt!” The spell shot through the winter storm and hit Jade in the chest, disarming her. Her wand flew into the air and landed softly on the ground between them. Finnigan stood as the blizzard died out.

The snow whirled and fell, leaving Finnigan standing in the middle, steam rising from him.

“Excellent,” Fei said. She stepped out of thin air beside Jade. “Jade, reclaim your wand. He has pulled the power of the stone into himself, now he must learn to use it.” Jade stepped forward and picked up the wand. “Now, you’ll duel him. Make him learn the power.”

Finnigan grinned, this was his forte. “I’m sorry in advance Jade,” he began, but a series of spells from her wand shut him up. He deflected of course, but one still got through. It hit him in the shoulder and sent pain searing through his chest and arm. He fell backwards onto his side, leaves on the ground softening the fall.

“I believe that round one goes to me?” Jade asked Fei.

“Indeed,” Fei said, glaring at Finnigan. “Again.”

Finnigan sprang to his feet and blasted a series of spells at Jade. It came out of his wand in a torrent; the sound of thunder exploding with his magic. It didn’t matter, Jade turned into a blur and batted the magic aside with ease. Finnigan added more deflection spells to his spate of magic as Jade countered him. Then more. Then all of his magic was deflection spells.

“This is why power stones are not allowed in your duelists guild,” Fei yelled over the crackling roar. “You need to use your stone! Her magic is powerful Finnigan, you will not survive it if she breaks through your guard!”

“You can’t go around killing people if they fail!” Finnigan yelled.

“We have done it for centuries!” Fei yelled. “This is the way of the Regalia! Either you are good enough, or you die!”

Finnigan growled, then focused his mind on the duel. It was dangerous. He had dueled so much he didn’t usually think about what his body was doing. Again, he found himself drawing from the heat of the power stone. It livened his body and mind. It didn’t seem to speed him up, but rather it made him able to see Jade's movements. There were three green stones on her wand surrounding one white stone, all shining vibrantly.

“Mine against yours I suppose,” he muttered to himself. He redoubled his efforts, and added his flower spells to his onslaught. He could feel the stone’s power radiate up his arm with what felt like an electric shock. His body moved quicker than he could think; his arm swinging too wide on a deflection letting Jades spell pass within inches of him.

“Your motions are erratic, you’re overcompensating for the speed,” Fei yelled. “Allow the power from the stone to reach your mind.”

Finnigan pulled the power further up his arm, allowing it to cover his whole being as he had when in the blizzard. The world seemed to slow even more. He reacted to her spells, not in a blanket as he normally would, but he answered each of her spells individually. Once they were deflected, he let an almost nonstop torrent of magic flood towards Jade. They overpowered her defenses in moments, fizzling out her few deflection spells. The wave of magic hit the woman, turning her clothing into a robe of flowers.

“Round two is mine,” Finnigan said. “And Jade, you’re actually quite stunning in that outfit.” The woman looked down at herself. Her cheeks turned a rosie red as her eyes widened. She flicked her wand and in a flash her outfit was restored to its proper state.

“Jade, fight as a member of the Regalia,” Fei said. “Begin!”

Jade shot a cone of flame from her wand. Finnigan cast his deflection spells again, but they were suited for individual spells, not a cone of fire. The cone blasted past his defenses in a moment and he shimmered out of the way only just in time. Jade turned and blasted the ground beneath him, sending him flying backwards into the air. He shimmered back to the ground, where he was met by another cone of fire. He erected a barrier, which stopped the flames in its tracks.

Jade stepped behind nothing at all. He spun just in time to deflect a spell and see her vanish again. He turned and was barely able to deflect another spell. He shot back, but she was long gone before the spell went through where she was. He spun again and deflected another blast from the Regalia. She stepped to the side, but didn’t vanish. Finnigan had already started to turn around, trying to anticipate her movements. She juked him! He had to bend at an awkward angle to deflect her next attack. He shot one spell back and started turning again, but she didn’t move. She deflected his spell then shot several more blasts of magic back at him. He slipped and fell onto the ground beneath the spells.

She blasted a cone of flame at him, so Finnigan shimmered himself high into a tree. She approached where he had been standing then waved her wand in the air, scanning as he had seen the Regalia do at La Semana De Los Gladiadores. She opened a portal beneath Finnigan, dropping him on the ground in front of her. He barely had time to react to stop her spell from pelting him in the face. The grass around him grew into vines and began to wrap him tightly.

“Enough,” said Fei sharply. “Duelists are like men with an arm tied behind their back. You will abandon your protocols, or you will die.”

“How did she do that?” Finnigan panted, getting back to his feet.

“She used a charm called chaxun, it is used to detect magic. You will master it,” Fei said. “It is like a magnifying glass for your inner eye, uniting it with your outer eyes. Your inner eye must be open for this spell to work. You will feel a sensation on your eyes and the wand will faintly point towards the direction of the magic you seek to find. Now, open your inner eye.”

Finnigan did, awakening his awareness of the magic around him.

“Point your wand and say after me, chaxun.”

“Chaxun,” Finnigan said. He felt his inner eye, hidden in his head behind and between his eyes. It seemed to meld with his vision, blurring the vision of both.

“Give it a moment to focus,” Fei said. “It will.”

“Vertigo in the meantime?” Finnigan said. “Okay, here it goes.” And so it did. The magic he could feel before was like a gentle pull on his mind's eye. Now, it was visible. He had only been able to see this well with his wand, and even then, not as much as this. He glanced at his wand, it was blindingly bright. It was like looking at the sun, but it didn't hurt. He could feel the faintest pressure in his hand from the wand; as though it was trying to point up. He helped it move to its desired position, pointed directly above his head.

“That’s where the portal was,” he said.

“Yes,” Fei responded.

Above him in the air hung what he could only describe as slowly fading light. It made a tunnel through the air to the limb of the tree on which he had stood. Where he had been standing he could see little flecks of light, flickering on and off like fireflies. A faint trail of those led back to where he had shimmered from.

“That’s enough for now,” Fei said. “The day is getting long, and this has taken more time than I think you may have realized. You need to spend the remainder of the day in meditation over your wand. The changes you made will slowly revert for the first day or so. The focus of your mind will make the changes permanent.

Hours later he was ready for sleep. The regalia had brought him food, so he ate, showered and got into bed. Fei entered and grinned wickedly. With a flick of her wand the bed sheets came to life and held him in place. She dropped her robe, revealing her naked body, and walked slowly towards him. “You are a remarkably fast learner, tonight, I will reward you for the efforts of the day.”