Chapter 1: Archwizard



    The interior of his office was simple, and very familiar to him after his three years as a professor here at the university.  The desk was made of a very common wood, as was the chair.  Papers lay scattered across the face of the desk, with a pile of books on magic acting as a paperweight.  He set the books down on a clear spot on the desk, and sat down to read.  He picked up a book from his pile that was marked "On the Effective Uses of Mixed-Element Effect Spells," opened it up, and began to study for the real world exam that would take place the following day.  After about an hour of reading, Deklos' sight began to blur and his arms and legs began to numb.  He tried to stand up, but found that he could not.  Deklos put his book on his desk, face down, and tried to use his arms to force himself out of his chair, but to no avail.  His eyesight continued to blur, until he couldn't see a thing.  Then, everything grew dark and he felt himself falling. 

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Chapter 2: Champion

    He fell for a long time without feeling any sort of  impact, as though he were in a bottomless pit.  Eventually, the falling sensation ceased, but everything was still dark.  That's when he realized that his eyes were closed.  He opened his eyes see a world engulfed in light.  An enormous fireball could be seen hovering above him, as though some magical experiment gone awry were in process, holding the fate of the world captive.  The ceiling, which was normally either black or brown, was a light blue color, with splotches of white marring its perfection.  Around him stood several men, each garbed in a black traveling cloak with a silver clasp.  He looked down to see that he was dressed the same way as they, except his clasp was gold.  Beyond them stood a green field that seemed to stretch on until it met the horizon.  One of the men leaned down closer to him, and began to speak.

    "Sir, are you alright?" one of the men asked him.

    "We stopped after you fell to the ground.  What happened just now?" another said.

    Deklos tried to open his mouth to answer, but found that he lacked the ability to do so.  He had questions he wanted answers to, but no way of asking them.  He was about to give up in frustration when he felt his mouth open and heard himself say, "I have no idea what just happened, men.  It was like a dream where I was experiencing someone else's life.  Probably a vision of some sort. I'll consult the oracle when we get back to base."

    "Do you feel able to keep going today, sir?"  asked with a hint of concern in his voice.

    "I'm fine, Lagos," Deklos heard himself say, "We should move as soon as we can.  The gods know that we need to report what we saw to the base."

    The men helped Deklos up, though Deklos was starting to think that he was really not himself today.  Each man, including Deklos, picked up his own pack and started to walk north.  All was quiet as they walked, giving Deklos a chance to think.

    'What is going on here? Why can't I control my own body? And where am I?  I've never seen this place before, it's almost as if it must be...'

    A sudden thought hit Deklos hard.  He was aboveground.  The blue ceiling must be that thing called "the sky" in the old books, and that fireball must be the "sun."  Considering these things, he looked more closely at the clasps that each man wore.  Engraved in each one was a symbol that Deklos has seen quite often: the Crest of the Dark Land.

    'If these men are from the Dark Land, then what are they doing aboveground?  What in the name of the Dark Lord {referring to the Greater Dark Elemental} is going on?'

    A flash of light blinked probably a mile away.  Seeing this, the other men from the Dark Lands became worried.  Deklos even felt himself become a little anxious at the sight.  The steady hike became progressively brisker, until the men had nearly broken out into an all-out dash for the source of that light.

    "We're too late!" one of the men shouted.

    "All the more reason to get back to camp quickly," Deklos felt a foreign entity say though him, "Hurry!"

    As the men ran across the plain, another flash of light erupted, this time much closer to them.  The men in the black cloaks seemed to expect this, but then the unexpected happened.  A deep purple pulse flashed where the light had been moments before.  It seemed to engulf all the light of day into itself, before vanishing.  This sight seemed to encourage the men for some strange reason, as though the purple burst of power symbolized all that was not the flash of light.  They hurried across the plain, shapes beginning to take form on the horizon.  These vague shapes became buildings, and in the center of these buildings a war of incredible brightness and eternal dimness took place.  Finally, they arrived at the camp.

    The men did not rush into the theater of war, but rather hid in the shadows on the sidelines, watching the drama unfold.  Before them were a host of lifeless bodies littering the ground, some wearing black and purple, others wearing white and gold.  Two champions could also be seen in their field of vision.  One appeared to be a man with long white hair and a pair of white and golden wings.  His wings were feathered, like birds wings.  In one hand he held a golden sword that possessed an aura of power.  In the other hand, he held a globe of pure light magic.  He held his sword arm at his side, blade ready should it be needed, as he held the globe of energy in front of him.  Facing this champion was one that seemed to be his antithesis.  This other champion had jet black hair and a pair of dark bat wings.  He held a lance in one hand and a sphere of dark magic in the other.  Behind each champion stood the remainder of their armies, ready at arms should their hero fall.  Each champion stared at his opponent, hatred clearly visible on his face.  In this brief moment, all was still, before the champions began their dance of death once again.

    The battle between the champions was not one that could be easily described by a casual onlooker.  For one thing, the duel took place at incredible speeds, sunlight flashing off of weapons and powerful magics flying this way and that.  The champions focused on each other, each trying to gain the upper hand over the other, neither yielding and neither able to make the other yield.  Sword clashed against lance, light met dark to create brief explosions of incredible power.  Finally, the champions flew away from each other.  The Champion of Light smirked, and once more gathered light magic in his hand.  The Dark Champion, seeing this, gathered his magic as well.  After a few seconds of gathering power, the two released their powers against the other.  The Dark Champion's magic flew in a globe toward the Light Champion, swerving this way and that in a nearly unpredictable path.  The Light Champion saw this and brought his sword to bear before him.  The sword met the dark magic, and the dark magic dissipated.  The light magic flew in a straight line toward the Dark Champion...and completely missed.  The magic went right by the Dark Champion, causing no harm whatsoever.  The Dark Champion began to laugh, but stopped abruptly as he heard screams accompany the minor explosion caused by the impact of the light magic and the ground.  He whirled around to see what had happened, and death and destruction engulfing his vision.  The magic had missed the Dark Champion, but hit its true target: the regular army that the Dark Champion led. 

    Rage mixed with the Dark Champion's hatred of his opponent, and he began to gather an immense amount of magical power.  The Champion's pendent glowed intensely as he let loose this power.  The magic did not take the form of a globe but that of a wide beam that shot toward his enemies.  The Light Champion tried to block the beam with his sword, but was unable to hold it off for very long.  He quickly dodged out of the way to avoid injury, and so the beam went by him and engulfed the soldiers that the Light Champion led.  When the beam dissipated, the only ones remaining alive in the camp were the men hiding in the shadows and the two champions.  The champions, seeing that they were in a deadlock, turned opposite ways and left the encampment.

    Now, only the soldiers with Deklos were left.  As soon as the Light Champion was out of sight, they got up from their hiding place and hurried after the Dark Champion.  It took them quite a few minutes to catch up to him, given the head start that he had.  When they finally found him, he was no longer the awe-inspiring titan that they saw on the battlefield.  Now, he was a mage of average height wearing black and purple robes.  Around his neck hung an amulet with a strange crest.  It seemed to be an artifact of some sort, so Deklos left his investigation of the amulet at that.  After all, most mages owned an amulet that they kept a backup spell or two in for emergencies.  The Dark Champion, now a mere man, had black hair that came down to his shoulders and a clean-shaven face.  He still wielded his spear, but now carried it with both hands, as he was not strong enough as a human to heft such a weapon in a single hand.  The Champion raised his hand in greeting toward Deklos and the soldiers, relief showing on his face.  He was obviously grateful that more than just he had survived the great battle.

    "Naros, you survived!" the Champion said.

    Deklos felt his lips move of their own will again, and heard himself say, "You seem to be doing well yourself, Celthan.  We seem to be too late to help with the initial skirmish, though."

    The face of Celthan the Dark Champion fell.  "Yes...they attacked us from a distance.  Half our troops were gone before I could help them."

    Deklos, or Naros as the Champion had called him, replied, "Yes, we know.  Their camp was empty by the time we arrived.  We would have arrived sooner, but I was injured by a magical trap.  I was out cold for the better part of an hour before my men woke me."

    "It's better that such a thing happened.  If it hadn't, you'd all probably be dead right now ... or worse.  Our spies tell us that prisoners of the Light Kingdom that know magic are tortured extensively.  They seem to be trying to learn our magical techniques."

    As the Champion finished speaking, a look of absolute horror came over his face, and he started casting a spell.  Deklos saw a flash of light out of the corner of his eye, and spun around to see what it was.  The Light Champion was there behind them, he had apparently followed them in order to surprise Celthan.  As Deklos fully faced the Light Champion, he saw the Champion release a spell of some sort.  A second later, Deklos felt a searing pain in his chest.  He looked down, and saw a ball of light magic lodged in his chest.  Unfortunately, it was not merely stuck in his chest, it was also expanding, causing his internal organs to gradually dissolve as the potent magic came in contact with them.  The pain worsened, and Deklos felt himself fall to the ground and begin to black out.  The last thing he was aware of before losing consciousness was Celthan yelling, "You're killing my brother!  You'll pay for this, fiend!"


    When Deklos awoke, he looked down at his chest to check the extent of the damage, but he was not wounded at all.  He was also not on a plain, but in rather sitting in a chair in his own office.  The piles of papers and books were all still there.  His clothes were intact.  Nothing seemed to be amiss, yet...what he had just experienced seemed too real to be a dream.  Yet now, it was as if it had never happened.  The only evidence that the events had indeed transpired as Deklos had experienced them was his own memories.

    "I don't understand, what just happened?  And why did it happen to me?" Deklos murmured to himself.

    Deklos looked out the window, and saw that the lights of the subterranean city were beginning to dim.  It was about time he headed back home, after all he had a competition the next day.  Deklos gathered up the books he had meant to read, and carried them out of his office.  He walked down the hall, reflecting all the while of the strange experience he had just had, taking the turns almost automatically until he arrived at the University Library again.  He dropped the books in the book return slot, and left.  Nothing seemed to register in his mind as he allowed his body to walk home. 

    'The Dark Champion and the Light Champion, who were they?  Was that a future of our land, where we return to the surface and engage in a war?  No, that can't be.  Not unless the Light Kingdom on the surface has absolutely no concept of magic whatsoever.  So it had to be another Dark Kingdom on the surface...but that can't be...our history tells us that no one of our nation stayed aboveground.  So what was it?  A dream?  Some kind of strange vision of the past?  Ah, I need to concentrate on combat techniques now or I won't beat anyone tomorrow.  How embarrassing would it be for a archwizard and professor of applied magic to lose a duel to some hedge wizard?'

    As Deklos thought that last thought, he noticed that he was standing before the doorway to his home.  He was momentarily bewildered by the fact that he had somehow traveled across town without being aware of it, but then shrugged it off and stepped inside the dark building.  After all, he had a competition the next day...

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Chapter 3: Tournament

    In the Tournament of the Magi, each contestant was placed into a bracket by known skill level.  The lower brackets started their fights early in the day, and the top five competitors of each bracket were promoted into the next bracket.  Since Deklos was an Archwizard in Combat Magic, he was placed into a relatively high bracket.  The brackets for his fights didn't begin until around noon, so for most of the morning he practiced gathering element quickly.  By the time his first fight came around, he was ready.

    Deklos was still practicing when he saw the worker climb up and change the number next to "Current Bracket" on the giant board.  He looked at it for a few seconds before he realized that the new number was the number of his bracket.  He let go of the element he had gathered (causing a small pyrotechnics display that delighted the children) and rushed to the staging area.  By the time he arrived, they were still processing people, so he waited on the sidelines until they began the fights.

    At last, the fight organizer stood up and began calling out pairs of names.  As each pair of names was spoken, two people stood up, and followed a guard to the room that they would be dueling in.  This continued for several minutes until Deklos heard his own name called.  He stood up and walked towards the guard.  He noticed that the other person who had stood up was one of his colleagues back at the University, who specialized in what they called 'Tactical Magic.'  He nodded to the other man in acknowledgment, and then followed the guard to the dueling room.  Both of them were silent for the short journey, so the only sound in the hallways was the tapping of shoes against the stone floor, and the far-off sounds of other battles being fought.  At last, they arrived at their room, and the guard opened the door.  He entered first, and they followed him.

    "Remember the rules," the guard said to them, "keep all magic contained in this room, and the fight ends either when someone yields or falls unconscious.  Understood?"

    Both mages nodded.

    "Good then, you there...Deklos," the guard said, reading the name off of a sheet of paper, "You go to the other end of the room to start.  The fight begins when I blow the whistle."

    Deklos walked to the other end of the room, all the while trying to feel out what element was present.  To his surprise, there was a perfect balance, leading him to conclude that the environment in these rooms must be strictly controlled.  He reached the other end of the room, turned around, and nodded to the guard.  The guard saw this, waited a few seconds, and blew his whistle.

    Nothing seemed to happen for a few seconds, but soon it was readily apparent that both duelists were gathering element for a spell.  Deklos was finished first, likely due to his own intensive training in close-quarters magical combat, and let loose a spell toward his opponent.  The other man was momentarily distracted since he was still gathering element for his first spell, but when he saw the energy hurling toward him, a look of horror crossed his face.  He tried to dodge to the side, but it was too late.  The energy caught him on his side and.....nothing seemed to happen.  The man laughed, and began to focus his gathered element into a weapon.  A few seconds passed...nothing had happened.  The man groaned as he realized that Deklos' spell had temporarily sealed off his ability to use magic.

    Deklos called out to the other man, "Shall we carry this to its inevitable conclusion, or will you yield now?"

    "I yield," the other said with finality, knowing full well that he had no chance with his magic sealed off.

    The guard scribbled something on his paper, and then opened the door for them.

    "Follow me back to the staging area for now," he said, "Deklos, your next fight will be in about half an hour."

    The men walked back to the staging area, again in silence.  Once they arrived, the mage that Deklos had just defeated continued on toward the main entrance, and left the building.  Since this was a single-elimination tournament, a single loss meant complete defeat.  Deklos felt sorry for the man, he had lost his first fight of the day, and was now out of the tournament.  Then, Deklos himself walked out of the staging area toward an area resembling a food court to grab a quick snack and a drink.

    Deklos won the rest of his fights that day.  He defeated quite a few opponents that day without the use of offensive magic.  Instead, he forced them to yield by cutting off their ability to fight, either by stopping their ability to gather magic, or by sealing off some of their senses.  The opponents that resisted these attacks of his, however, forced him to use direct magic to win.  In this sort of arena, too, he excelled.  He had learned how to modify direct spells so that the damaging energy traveled in different ways.  Many fell when confronted with magic that, though weaker in strength due to being spread out, would converge on them from all sides, inflicting pain on every inch of their skin. At the days end, Deklos was one of the higher rated mages due to his innovative combat techniques.  The next day would bring the main event for him, though: the semifinals where he would have the chance to compete against the strongest wizards in the nation, including the Magi.


    The following day, Deklos experienced incredible joy at first.  He breezed by most of his preliminary opponents, many of whom had been champions in their own right for years.  Then he was matched against one of the Magi.  Deklos was apprehensive, but filled with confidence due to his incredible winning streak.  Then, reality was made apparent to him during the fight.  The very tactic he had used against others, gathering element quickly and cutting off his opponents' means of fighting, was used against him.  The Magus he fought was incredibly gifted and had obviously trained for many years himself.  He finished gathering element faster than Deklos had ever seen, and let loose a bolt of magic at Deklos.  Deklos dodged to the side to avoid this attack, only to feel a strange sensation on his back a moment later.  The feeling soon passed, and he finished his own spell.  He shot a wave of dark element at the Magus, but saw the magic stop short as it impacted a magical barrier. 

    Deklos opened his mouth to curse, but no words came forth.  He remembered the strange sensation on his back moments earlier, and realized that the spell he had dodged had looped around again and hit him.  He looked up at the Magus, only to see more spells heading his way.  He dodged the first few, until a spell that restricted mobility hit him.  Then he sat there, helplessly, as a barrage of spells headed his way.  He lost control of most of his body during that battle, and experienced what felt like hours of sensory deprivation before the magic wore off.  When he regained the use of his body, he found himself lying on a cot.  He got up, and realized that he was in the staging area.  A few moments later, he made another realization: he had lost the battle in one of the most humiliating ways possible.  He had heard stories of men who had their senses magically cut off for a period of time, but never thought it would happen to him.  He left the room on the verge of rage and headed home.  That night, there were reports of large explosions outside the city, but the city guard never tracked down the culprit.

---

Chapter 4: Research

    Following his humiliation at the hands of the magus during the tournament, Deklos' desire for the admiration of others and status to show his personal worth to the world somehow changed.  In terms of why he had the desire and what the desires were was no different, but the intensity of this desire had grown a thousand fold.  During the tournament, the magus had not simply defeated Deklos by incapacitating him, but went so far as to lock Deklos into his own body.  Deklos did not know why the magus had done this, but emotionally felt that he was shown to be personally worthless by this humiliation.  He was the son on traitors, and everyone seemed to know this.  He, however, was no traitor in the least, and had worked all his life to show that he was a worthwhile individual on his own merits.  But...that...that...bloody magus entered into his life and demonstrated to all that Deklos' merits were...nonexistent!

    Desire once again welled up in Deklos.  It did not drive him to pursue personal excellence, but rather to take back that which was stolen from him.  The next Tournament of the Magi would be in two years.  It would be there, Deklos decided, that he would retake that self-worth that was rightfully his by conquering the magus who had so humiliated him.  The desire to be a person in the eyes of others had accompanied Deklos his entire life, and motivated him every step of the way to where he was now.  Today, this desire became all the more powerful, muting any other desires he might have had.  Deklos would show himself to be worthwhile, and he would do it by becoming the most powerful man in the land.

    Deklos looked up from his thoughts, and remembered that the university holiday ended tomorrow.  He was sufficiently recovered from his wounds to go back to work, and so Deklos spent the rest of the day working on the curriculum that he would cover in his classes for the next week.  His work as a professor would not make him more powerful as he desired, but he needed to keep his job in order to attain his desired goal.  After all, professors at the university had access to documents and materials related to combat magic that others could not even touch.  Ah, the joys of academia...


    The next day, Deklos taught his classes on applied magic as he always had, introducing his students to new topics for them to memorize (or else), and fielding all sorts of questions from his students.  Not surprisingly, one of the major topics for discussion in most of his classes was the Tournament that had just finished and the political changes that would come with it.  None of the Magi had been defeated this year, so the highest positions of government would not change.  However, there were new competitors this year to actually challenge the Magi in magical combat, including the ever-so-talented Professor Deklos.  His students were somewhat in awe of him due to his performance in the Tournament, especially those that were unaware that he was an Archwizard in the field of Combat Magic.  This near-worship on the part of his students nearly managed to cool the flames of desire for admiration that burned within him, but his desires grew powerful again whenever a student would ask him about his duel with a Magus.  His answer to such questions, of course, was always the same: that he did his best, but the Magus was simply a more skilled mage.

    He barely made it through the day.  Deklos was most gratified that his students still looked up to him, but the question of his peers worried him.  Many of them now looked at him oddly, as though his performance in the Tournament had revealed to them a side of him that they had never seen.  Every once in a while, another professor would congratulate him on his performance in the tournament, but for the most part his peers avoided the subject around him.  One such encounter occurred between classes.  He was sitting down to eat lunch with some of the other professors, and the conversation turned to the tournament the previous day.  Of course, every professor who bore the title Archwizard in some variety of offensive magic was in the tournament, though most lost fairly early on due to the fact that most professors rarely trained in combat magic unless that was their specialty.  They talked about their own battles and commented on the performance of one another, but none of them talked about Deklos' battles or performance.  He sat there conversing, but it was almost as if none of them knew that he had been in the tournament.

    After lunch was over, Deklos returned to his office to think while pretending to be looking over research papers.  He had quite a few that still needed grading, but his reputation and person-hood took precedence over getting grades done on time.
Deklos sat down at his desk, and thought about what to do to regain the respect of his students and peers at the university.

    'Hmm...Since I lost their respect due to my humiliation at the hands of that bloody Magus, perhaps I can regain their respect by overcoming the past.  Yes, all I have to do is defeat the Magus in a duel, and all will be better.  Lets see...the next Tournament is two years away.  That should give me plenty of time to prepare.  How did I lose, what went wrong...hmm... SHIELD ...yes, that's it!  It was that blasted shield.  So my first item of business is to re-learn how to maintain a magic barrier while being able to still cast spells.  After that, I need to be able to overcome his shield.  During the tournament, my magic at full power bounced off his shield.  If I were to maintain a shield, then...hmm...'

    A voice snapped Deklos back to reality.

    "Professor?" A student asked.  Deklos looked up, and saw that one of his students in the applied magic class was asking him a question.

    "Yes, what is it?"  Deklos responded, trying to communicate with his tone of voice that he was busy.

    "I had a question about making artifacts.  I know that I'm supposed to draw element into the Focus Stone, but...why do I have to pull only one element into the Stone?  Wouldn't a mix of element be more useful?"

    Deklos sighed.  'I just explained this in class before lunch,' he thought before explaining, "I went over this in class.  The effects of an artifact with a mix of more than two elements becomes unpredictable.  If you know what you're doing and are focusing completely on the artifact, you can draw the element out of it manually and cast a normal spell that way.  But what's the point of that?  Just cast the spell normally.  We make artifacts for emergency situations and for everyday use by those who don't know how to cast magic."

    "Umm...I think that makes sense..." the student started, "but that doesn't explain why we shouldn't make an artifact with two opposing elements.  If you drew the element into separate Focus Stones, wouldn't it be safe?"

    'Not again,' Deklos thought.  After a brief pause, the professor finally drew in a deep breath and answered, "Yes, that would work.  But what would you use it for?  The last time a normal spell with opposing elements was tried, the mage casting it ended up baked from the inside out.  We have some references to a similar spell called in some old documents, but the knowledge of casting it was lost with the Archwizard who designed the spell in the first place."

    "Oh," the student said rather stupidly, the comment about baked mage obviously having frightened him, "Ok, I think I'll go now."

    'Peace at last,' the Professor thought, 'Now that I think about it, though, a spell like that might be what I'm looking for.  Spells based on antipodal fusion are supposed to be several orders of magnitude more powerful than a normal spell.  I could crack that Magus' shield with something like that even if I were to maintain a shield...'

    With that last thought, Deklos turned to grading papers.  He had his answer.


    Usually, professors were no where to be seen on the University campus on a weekend.  Today, however, several students had run into a professor working feverishly at the library, searching tomes on defensive magic as though his life depended on an answer that he might find there.  Others saw this same professor perusing the older texts in the library.  When asked what he was doing, Professor Deklos simply replied, "Research."  This odd behavior and research on the part of one of the more popular professors (popularity due to respect for his power, most likely) energized the idle chatter of the student body, so that by the start of the week, Professor Deklos was supposed to be doing everything from plotting to assassinate the Archmagus and the Council of the Magi to trying to devise a new spell to unveil at the next Tournament.  Of course, everyone knew that he had political aspirations.  After all, what Archwizard powerful enough to earn the right to challenge a Magus didn't?

    Deklos himself, however, knew the truth.  He looked for two things: a magical defense that required minimal concentration, and a spell powerful enough to shatter a Magus' shield.  He found absolutely nothing in the books on defensive magic that he found, but this was expected.  After all, wasn't an Archwizard supposed to have studied all areas that could be related to combat magic?  So after a wasted day of research looking through the various texts on defensive magic, Deklos headed over to the section where they kept the older books.  Most of the books here were either histories or else examples of early studies in magic.  Both of these types of books interested Deklos, for either of them might hold the answers he sought.  He came across many old stories in the history books he found, including a few that sounded remarkably familiar.  Most of these familiar-sounding stories were about some of the great heroes of the past, Champions and Holy Warriors of the Greater Elementals who were blessed with great skill in magic as well as fortified strength with which to wield weapons.  Many of these people were ordinary people who were chosen.  Unfortunately, most of them led very sad lives, having to give up everything for the Greater Elemental, even life itself.

    In one of these histories, a battle between the Champions of the Greater Fire Elemental and the Greater Water Elemental was described.  They were perfectly matched in combat, due to the fact that they were identical twins fated to battle each other.  They used every trick that they knew to defeat the other, but they were so evenly matched, a duel of weapons did no good.  They tried a battle of weapons augmented with magic, but this was equally worthless.  Finally, the rivals decided to a final combat: a magical duel.  Each was a talented caster, as well, though.  They battled it out with magic, but here too they were evenly matched.  Frustrated, the Fire Champion gathered his strength to release a incredibly powerful blast of barely focused offensive fire magic.  His twin saw this, and tried to counter it with a similar spell.  The blasts of magic met each other head on, and combined.  The resulting magical blast killed both of the Champions, and created a vast wasteland in the blast zone. 

    Reading this story, Deklos noticed that the result of the magical duel was similar to what he was looking for.  If one had the magical capacity to manage the energies required for such a powerful spell, even a low-powered spell based on antipodal element fusion would result in a powerful enough blast to destroy the Magus' shield.  It might destroy his own in the process, but that would at least take care of one of the problems that was plaguing him.  Now, to just find this spell would be the tricky part.

    He switched from histories to books on early magical studies.  These served somewhat fruitless, though the process that the inventors of common spells went through would serve most useful to Deklos.  He desired a more powerful version of a shielding spell, but was unable to find any way of maintaining a shield with his own power while also maintaining the ability to cast normal spells.  Deklos wrote down some of these early processes of spell invention, and then returned his attention to the books on history.  Most of these were fascinating reads, though a few of the stories seemed a little too incredible to be believable.  Ancient cities made entirely of metal, bah!  Everyone knew that the difficulty of acquiring metal and then molding it into a usable building made it not worth anyone's time, especially when stone buildings were so easy to make.  The stories about this Archwizard Lucius who lived for over 150 years were equally preposterous.  Not even magic could keep a human body working for such a long time.

    Deklos continued to search through the tomes, but found nothing else of worth on this trip to the University library.  The notes on magical invention might turn out to be useful, and he had definitely found the story of the Twin Champions interesting.  Looking out the window, he realized that the day was over, and he would have class to teach in the morning.  His quest for a more powerful spell and a better barrier would have to wait for another day, but what was one day in the context of two years, anyway?

---

Chapter 5: Fusion

    The next few weeks were a blur for Deklos. Classes had begun in earnest again, and so the majority of his time was dedicated to the classroom. In his free time, Professor Deklos could be seen in the library, studying any information on the spell referred to as 'Antipodal Fusion' by himself and the 'Ultimate Spell' by forgotten researchers. Every once in a while a historian referred to it as a catastrophe or some such when it was accidentally set off, such as in the story of the Twin Champions. For all the names for it, though, there was next to no information to be found on how to replicate it. So Deklos spent his time in the library researching magical theory, in hopes that he could put together some safe experimental spells in an attempt to recreate the spell he sought.

    After about a week of this continual research, Professor Deklos' students became curious about what he had been studying. They dropped in on him when he was in the library to ask him questions, they came up to him after class to ask him about his research, and some even went so far as to ask him about it during class. He answered their questions as best he could without revealing the incredibly dangerous nature of his research, but the questions continued to come. He bore up under them for several weeks, until he finally decided it wasn't worth the effort and asked his students not to question him about his research until it was complete. That managed to end the questions for about a week, until they forgot and begin to ask him about it again.

    Despite the continual questioning, Deklos was actually enjoying this research. He had never been one for magical theory, preferring practical applications to normal life as well as combat, but the promise of power to defeat the Magus who had humiliated him gave him the desire and the motivation to pursue his goal to the very end. The research into how to combine elements into a spell and the properties of various elemental combinations was progressing very well, and he had generated a number of ideas for experimental spells that might shed some light onto the properties of antipodal fusion. One in particular held some promise: attempting a very scaled-down version of the fusion spell, but focusing it into an indirect spell rather than a direct attack.

    After several weeks of research, Deklos put in a request to reserve one of the magic testing labs. However, he managed to create quite an alarm when he mentioned in his request that "a room with full magical shielding would be preferred." He had mentioned this so that he might not have to produce his own shielding devices, but hadn't thought that such a request would alert the other faculty members that he was going to attempt some rather dangerous magical experiments. Every day after he filed his request for a lab until the day the experiment would take place, Deklos found himself deluged with a steady stream of visitors to his office, begging him to call off his experiment. When asked about what experiment they were talking about, they mentioned everything from experimental disease cures to demon summonings. Deklos got quite a laugh out of all the rumors of what experiment he was going to carry out, and was relieved that no one knew what he was really up to.

    Finally, the day of the experiment arrived. Deklos tried to give normal lectures, but somehow every single one of his classes turned into a question and answer session regarding his research and experiments. He answered as few questions as possible, instead inviting them to watch his experiments from the highly shielded observation room. Most declined, but it seemed that a few from every class would be there. At lunch, the other professors took notice of him, and asked him questions regarding the experiment as well. Deklos told them the same things that he told his students: to watch the experiment from the observation room.

    The last class of the day had ended, and the time for the experiment was approaching quickly. Deklos made his way down the halls of the university toward the magic lab where he would perform his experiment. The hallways were not quite empty today since at least a few of his students and peers wanted to watch the mysterious experiment. Deklos ignored them, and proceeded to the laboratory. Once he was inside, Deklos carefully checked the shield-generating artifacts to ensure that they were in working order. A few were not, and these he quickly fixed by either changing the engraved crest or funneling more magical energy into them. Once he was satisfied with the safety of the room, he went to work.

    In the center of the room, Deklos set up a target with a small artifact for measuring the output of spells. He then proceeded to add some extra shield-generating artifacts to areas of the rooms that might not have been shielded properly, such as the main entry. He then set up a target to aim the spell on, and activated the artifact on the target. A slight curtain of blue light engulfed the target, and held its place. This artifact was designed to hold an incredibly powerful shield that would not regenerate when damaged by a spell. By measuring the strength of the shield after casting a spell on it, it is then possible to measure the power of the spell cast on it.

    With the target and shields now set up, the preparations for the experiment were complete. Deklos took his place near one of the walls of the room, with his back facing the entrance to the lab. He withdrew from his pockets a pair of casters gloves -- gloves inscribed with runes representing each element and type of spell focus -- and put them on. He held his hands up in front of him, palms facing away from him. Then, he began to focus on his spell. He concentrated completely on the runes on the gloves in order to focus his mind rather than using a chant or elaborate gestures. The audience in the observation room watched this procedure closely, eager to discover what sort of magical experiment the Archwizard was going to perform. As Deklos focused, two tiny globes of energy began to form, a yellowish-red colored one hovering in front of his right palm, and a greenish-blue one in front of his left palm. The onlookers gasped as they realized what he was attempting to do. They saw that the red orb was obviously gathered fire element, and the blue one was water element. Everyone knew that you could not cast a spell with opposing elements, yet here was a professor attempting to do just that.

    Usually, a ball of element the size of one's hand was required to properly cast a spell. Deklos' gathered spheres of element, however, were not even as long as his thumb. Those watching him expected him to gather much more element, but then saw that the spheres had ceased to grow. Deklos continued spell, now focusing the energy to take the shape of an indirect attack focused on the target. He pulled the elemental energies together until they were barely touching, and then cast the tiny, barely focused balls of element toward the target. As they flew across the room, they continued to merge, indicating to the onlookers that Deklos was still controlling and focusing them. When the spheres completely merged with each other, they began to expand. At first, the expansion was minimal, and everyone watched the spell begin to take its toll on the target's light blue shield. Deklos' face was contorted with pain as he tried to maintain the spell. At last, however, he fell unconscious and collapsed in a heap on the floor. The spell, now free of the control that Deklos had imposed upon it, began to rapidly expand until all that could be seen in the room was a swirling red and blue mass. The spell tore away at the shields around the room, and the watchers in the observation room panicked. After a few seconds, though, the spell began to slowly fade away, easing the panic of all those still present and conscious.

    At last, the spell completely dissipated. The target had no shield around it now, and the actual body of the target was severely damaged. Most of the shields around the room were beginning to fail as well. Deklos lay on the floor, still unconscious. His robes were singed, and his exposed skin was burned in places. A few of those who had watched the experiment rushed into the room to check his condition. He wasn't hurt as much as he could have been, since he was wearing a fairly powerful shielding artifact of his own. However, his condition was still serious. Those with skill in defensive magic began to cast healing spells on him, while a few of the students rushed to get a medic. When the medics arrived on the scene, they found Deklos still unconscious, but his wounds had healed somewhat due to all the healing magic being cast on him. His condition was still serious, though, and he showed no signs of waking up any time soon. The medics took Deklos to the city hospital, where he could be watched and taken care of.


    A few days after the experiment, the doctors at the hospital had managed to heal many of Deklos' wounds, but he still was unconscious. They decided that the experimental spell had put an undue amount of strain on his mind, and he likely pushed himself to control the spell far longer than he should have. As a result, he was most likely in a sort of coma. His mind was somewhat aware, as he was seen to mumble as though he were talking in his sleep. However, a portion of his mind was greatly damaged, and was keeping him unconscious while it repaired itself. And so, Deklos slept for weeks on end, and the weeks turned into months and the months began to fly by.

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Chapter 6: Eternal Vision

    Deklos held the spell as long as he could, knowing full well the potential for destruction that his spell held should it go out of control.  It was only a little energy, but... holding it together when the conflicting elements of the spell continually pushed apart was an excruciating task.  In a last ditch effort to control the spell, Deklos cast the energy toward the target early, and then tried to merge the energies and focus them completely while they were in flight.  The closer the energies came together, though, the greater the strain on Deklos' mind as he tried to merge the energies closer.  Finally, the ball of energy was completely merged, but then all hell broke loose.  Holding the fully merged energies together was too much strain for Deklos' mind, so it let go.  The last thing Deklos felt was falling to the ground as the world went black.

    Deklos snapped his eyes open.  He was in his apartment, in his own bed.  He looked at the window, and saw the bright glow pouring in.  For some reason, the daytime light was much brighter today.  Deklos shrugged this off and set about getting himself dressed.  He pulled one of his mage's robes from the closet, put it on, and slowly walked across the carpeted floor to the kitchen.

    'The experiment...it must have been just a dream,' Deklos thought, 'What else could it have been?  I never act that irrationally, and I certainly don't go about testing experimental combat spells.  Oh well, may as well start the day with some breakfast...'

    Deklos pulled some dried leaves from a jar in his kitchen, and put them into a small metal ball with holes in it.  He closed the ball up, and put it into a tea pot.  Then he walked to the front door, opened it, and retrieved the bottles of water that had been dropped off earlier that morning.  These were taken to the kitchen, and there Deklos poured some of this water into a kettle.  He started up the stove with a very weak fire spell, and put the water on to boil.  While he waited for the water to boil, he walked back to his desk and picked up a book to read while he ate his breakfast.  He carried the book back to the table, grabbed a piece of fruit from the basket on the table, and sat down to eat his fruit and read his book.

    He looked at the book he had picked up.  It was titled "Mages of Legend" and appeared to be a collection of biographies about famous spell casters in the Underworld.  When he opened the book up, though, it was unreadable.  The characters on the pages were nothing that he recognized.  He shrugged, closed the book, and set it on the table.

    'It must be in a language I don't know.  I must have it so that I can ask one of the linguistics professors to translate it for me...'

    The kettle whistled, breaking Deklos' train of thought.  He cast a quick water spell on the stove to douse the flame, took the kettle off the stove, and poured the hot water into the tea pot.  He put the lid on the tea pot, and let it sit for a while to brew (?correct word?).  He walked over to the book shelf, picked up a book on magic theory, and sat down to read while his tea brewed.  A few minutes later, Deklos got up again, walked back to the tea pot, and poured himself a hot cup of tea, brewed from the leaves of local plants.  He returned to his book, and read it while sipping his tea.

    When he had finished his tea, Deklos got up and returned the book to its shelf, only to find that it was already on the shelf, and the book in his hand was suddenly about history.  Thinking about the oddness of this, Deklos walked to a different part of the bookshelf to replace the book.  He found an empty spot where the book would fit, and reached up to put it on the shelf.  As he replaced the book, he noticed that his hand was semi-transparent.  Startled, Deklos looked at his feet, only to find that they too were becoming transparent.  He ran to the bathroom, and looked in the mirror there.  To his surprise, he had no reflection.  Deklos fled his apartment and ran outside to the street.

    Outside, Deklos saw people walking down the unusually bright street, going about their everyday business.  Most of them wore clothes of brighter colors very similar to the traditional garments worn on holidays.  The most noticeable thing about these people, however, is how much they interacted with each other.  It seemed like everyone was especially social today, even those that Deklos recognized and knew to be rather antisocial.  Deklos walked out onto the street himself, intent on figuring out what was going on today.

    "Excuse me," Deklos said in an attempt to strike up a conversation with one of these exceptionally social people.  The person he spoke to, however, ignored Deklos and even acted like Deklos wasn't even there.  Deklos, offended by being ignored, decided to try to talk to someone else.

    "Pardon me..."

    Again, Deklos was completely ignored.  The people around him all were ignoring him, as though he were subhuman or perhaps did not even exist.  They just continued to go their way, dressed in their bright clothing, chatting merrily with almost everyone else...except Deklos.  He looked down at the street, and caught a glimpse of his feet.  They were much more than partially transparent now, in fact at first glance Deklos thought he was looking at someone's shadow.  He held his hand out in front of him and looked at his palm.  It, too, seemed to be merely a shadow, only noticeable at all when surrounded by bright light.  Despairing, Deklos retreated from the light of the street to the darkness of the back alleys.  There, at least, he would not have to see all the other people and become ever more away of his own dullness.


    "Doctor, how is he?"  The dean of the university asked.

    "Oh, still sleeping.  That accident must have been some trauma for his mind."

    The dean walked over to the bed where Deklos lay asleep.  "A shame that he had to ruin himself with that stupid experiment," he muttered, "that man was our best combat mage and teacher of applied magic.  About time to find a replacement, I guess.  Can't operate the university without someone to teach applied magic..."

    The doctor and the dean left the room, turning out the light before they closed the door.  Darkness fell.


    Deklos continued to lurk in the shadows.  He did not know how long he had been here, nor did he remember precisely why he had come here.  All he knew was that it was comfortable in the shadows, so returning to the brightly lit streets would probably bring only pain since they were so different than the shadows.  Here in the darkness of the shadows of the great city, Deklos could live without fear of the light, without being ignored or rejected by the colorful people who lived in the light.  He did not do much in these dark places, but he could wander and sleep all he wanted.

    As he wandered though the shadows, Deklos became aware of others like himself who lived here.  They, too, did not appear to have a real body, only a featureless outline, like the shadow of one of the people in the street.  Not one of them interacted with the others, and neither did Deklos interact with any of them.  After all, the people in the street had rejected him so long ago, so why should the people in the alley welcome him?  So Deklos continued to survive in the alleys as a shadow in the shadows.

    As he wandered, however, one of his feet (if indeed shadows had feet) caught on the ground, and Deklos fell on his face as he tried to take another step.  He fell for what seemed to be forever, until his face finally came into contact with the ground and Deklos again became aware of pain.  He tried to escape the pain and rejection of the light by retreating into the alleys, now only to find pain and rejection in the shadows as well.  He got up, and found himself no longer in the alleys, but on a dimly lit plain.  His body was no longer purely shadow, but now was merely semi-transparent.  He looked around, but saw nothing in the dim light but more of the endless plain.  Grey rocks covered the ground, and there were no plants.  Here in this barren place, only Deklos existed, and even he merely partially existed.  He knew that it was futile to simply sit here and wait for something to happen, so Deklos wandered in a direction he somehow knew to be east.
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