The Everburn Mage

21. What It Means to be a Mage

Underneath the moon, two mages faced each other. One of fire and the other of wood.

Their duel would take place in a silent and lonely glade, where no creature's life could be put in danger. Whoever it was to emerge victoriously, however, had little to do with their status as master or apprentice. What mattered most was how they sought to incorporate their magical abilities.

Rune toned out the sound of his pumping heartbeat. This was no time to be getting scared or growing doubtful. Such emotions had no place in a battle of life and death. Based on Jacob's stern expression, it was obvious he intended not to pull any punches either. This final trial of his would most likely be his hardest yet.

And without any warning, it commenced.

Jacob was the first to act, his tome flying open and granting its caster with otherworldly, mythical strength. From an outsider's point of view, the results of this match would've been obvious. Not only was Jacob an expert mage who participated in the cataclysmic seven-year-long war, but he also had a tome on his side, a catalyst of power. 

And who opposed him? A youngling mage with nine months' worth of training to his name. What hope would he have against such an opponent? Well, Rune was about to find out. Regardless of the outcome, he yearned to give his strict teacher a run for his money.

"Lignum Unguis!" Jacob shouted. Erecting out of the ground was a pair of overly large roots, bits of soil and grass stuck to the spindly appendages. Without having to hear another order, the spells shot for their target: a novice with an aptitude for fire.

Rune smirked. He'd seen his master use this attack before. They were of no concern to him. He remained in his position, waiting and waiting until they were only four or five paces from his location. It was then he decided to act. 

The first root lunged at him, shooting its sharpened tip at the boy like an earthen lance. Rune sidestepped out of the way, the force of the attack launching wind into his face that rocked back his blonde hair. 

The second decided to go for him at an angle, curving its trajectory leftward in an attempt to catch him by surprise. Not gonna work. At the last second, Rune's upper body subtracted to the earth, ducking under the predatory root as it whizzed over his head. Before the spells had the chance to stage a counter, Rune sprung into action.

He disregarded the wooden serpents and pinpointed their controller, the mage who, like always, hadn't a need to move from his spot. Supporting a cocky grin, Jacob summoned another root, and then another, and another. 

One by one the roots broke out of the primary layer of the planet's crust, shooting nearly ten feet into the sky. Rune, though he never ceased his rapid advance, watched above him as the roots dove back down to Earth releasing a high-pitched screech.

Concentrating on his essence' flow the way he'd been taught, Rune drew a pair of magic circles. The glistening emblems brightened their arena, if not only for a second, and Rune felt the essence exit his body in order to conceive the spell he'd yet to paint into this world. 

Unlike the other of Jacob's lessons, what made this trial so special was that he was allowed to make use of his magic spells. This was what the Value of Intent entailed. According to Jacob, whenever a mage activated a spell, they should have a clear and established goal in their mind. Something specific they'd want to accomplish. The more certain they were of this particular objective, the better their performance with magic would be.

Considering the circumstances, there was only one ambition Rune possessed that would go on to not only fuel his magic, but also the vigorous roar beckoning out his mouth. Anguis Mordeo left the palm of the mage's extended hands and burnt to a crisp each of the roots aiming for him.