Kliff's eyes snapped open to behold a world engulfed in a maelstrom of blood-red fire and chaos. The outstretched hands of anguished corpses pointed towards the heavens, where the Eternal Gardens beckoned, their desperate plea echoing in the air.
It seemed as if they were reaching out to their beloved goddess, Aeris, beseeching her to descend from her hidden realm and spare them from their harrowing fate. Alas, no divine savior appeared, and the unfortunate souls were consumed by the relentless dark inferno, leaving behind naught but fading memories.
He would have screamed if only he had a voice to give. He could see everything: the destruction that he caused, the lives that he slayed, a city that he had shattered, yet only a faint buzzing filled his ears. Where he was crouched on both knees with charred hands resting in his lap, Kliff could feel the intense heat clash into his face, evaporating the streams of tears staining him.
The raging fire sent a whirlwind of smoke swirling around him, and the charred remains that had once been a person were consumed with a ferocity similar to wood engulfed in the hearth of a rustic cottage. Water drowned his sight, causing a familiar stinging sensation to consume his eyes, but before tears could fall, they transformed into tiny particles of glowing orange ash carried away by the wind. It was almost as if he was shedding tears of embers.
His mind crackled with electricity as fragmented memories surged through his consciousness— fleeting glimpses of his father, his mother, and a friend he couldn't find. Kliff had often frequented the city square known as the Lion's Sanctuary, particularly during vibrant celebrations like the one taking place tonight. It looked different now, with the once-colorful cobblestones now marred by smoky black burns and the bustling street stalls reduced to smoldering remnants of charred wood.
The area surrounding the Sanctuary was filled with buildings and multi-story houses, many of which showed signs of damage. Portions of their architecture were missing, with large chunks of brick walls collapsed to the ground and rows of shattered windows, likely from bursts of heat. The Lion's Sanctuary was spacious enough to accommodate over two hundred people, and Kliff was certain even more had crowded there tonight, laughter, music, and conversation once filling the air. Nobles sure loved their grand parties.
Scratching the side of his head, Kliff grappled with piecing together the events that led to this catastrophe. He couldn't shake the memory of yet another heated dispute with his father, this time regarding his impending betrothal and future. The absurdity of an eight-year-old being thrust into matters of courtship and political alliances almost elicited a bitter chuckle from him. How could such a situation be considered normal in a world that insisted it was just?
Then, she appeared—the light of his life, the small pocket of hope in days that seemed to never end. Her name was—had been—Aeila, which translated to "of the cloudless spring" in Rymevar, though, oddly enough, she wasn't of Rymevai descent. But it was a name that nonetheless suited her, as whenever she was around, the darkness blanketing his life like enormous storm clouds faded the instant she smiled.
Her lowborn origins were impossible to discern from her refined way of speaking and the confident way she conducted herself. Many among the noble class considered her overbearing. "How could a commoner presume to be our equal in the eyes of Aeris?" was likely the prevailing sentiment. However, it was precisely this unwavering spirit that Kliff admired in her above all else.
In her presence, he felt safe enough to let down his guard, to reveal the person behind the facade he wore, and to confide in her his innermost thoughts and struggles. In a world filled with complexities and deceit, she was one of the few individuals who brought him true joy. Yet, on that fateful night, she vanished in whispers of cinders.
Spending a fractured peek, Kliff saw it, the blue-colored ribbon he'd gifted the girl for her ninth birthday strewn on the ashen floor near a heap of burned flesh and charred clothing that had not been too long ago smiling at him.
The urge to scream. The reflex to vomit. Kliff felt none of it. The ribbon glimmered in the reflection of his lifeless eyes, while the roaring fire inched closer and closer, sending orange tails wisping across his face. Was this the Shadow, casting its judgment upon him? Would he forever remain crouched in this fiery wasteland, haunted by the sin he committed for all eternity?
No...I understand it now, Kliff thought, grimacing to himself. In the past, Autumn's words rang true. He realized that his own fear of fire led him to be reckless, allowing his emotions to taint his magical abilities. And yet, ironically enough, it wasn't his magic that was to be blamed for the disaster he'd birthed, but rather the unique trait inherent in his cursed blood, which Autumn had taught him was exclusive to his kind.
An Ember lived within him, a separate module of power unique from that of Essence. On most occasions, Kliff ignored it, discounted the temptation to surrender to its will and permit his body to act on its primordial existence. If he knew then what he did now, perhaps none of it would have happened. Maybe the Pyre never would have been born, and Aeila would still be with him.
Kliff pressed his forehead into the muddy grass, fangs clenched firmly in his jaws. Emotions and magic were a dangerous mix. But this wasn't magic, and his body felt numb. Closing his eyes, he extended a hand that didn't exist towards it, a billowing flame as red as blood kept alive in the pits of his soul.
His fingers glided into this distant fire, and what Kliff felt first wasn't a heat that crunched but rather a surge of exhilaration rushing through his veins, filling him with newfound strength. Kliff gazed intently at the Ember snapping behind a curtain of darkness, watching as it expanded before him with every breath he took.
Kliff's eyes shot open, greeted by the mesmerizing spectacle of a murky inferno consuming the grass with its monstrous radiance. The atmosphere teemed with spiraling ashes and the crackling symphony of flames, injecting apprehension and excitement into Kliff's heart. Embracing the Ember was an unquestionably hazardous endeavor, a gamble fraught with potential danger. Nevertheless, as Kliff embraced his nature, he found himself irresistibly drawn to confront the risk.
The oppressive weight of numerous Mud Men gradually lessened as each one succumbed to the scorching flames. In contrast to them, Kliff was designed for endurance. The bubbling Mud Men disintegrated into clumps of sludge on the ground one by one shortly before the voracious fire devoured whatever remained.
Kliff grabbed his Salamander Wand and lifted himself to his feet, scanning the area for the sorcerer who had outmatched him—this duel was far from over. He quickly noticed Jack just a few paces away, his face filled with a mix of fear and confusion as he stared at Kliff, who stood amidst the bloody firestorm. Witnessing a mage in the heart of such a grotesque, roaring blaze would undoubtedly be a terrifying sight for anyone to witness, no less himself.
"You've been holding out on me, Dresden," Jack smirked nervously, shuffling around. Though Kliff would commend his efforts, Jack's trembling voice failed to conceal his inner feelings. When his wand glimmered, however, Kliff knew the boy hadn't lost himself enough to abandon their duel. "Those eyes of yours," he went on with a stammer. "I think I'm starting to see the real you. Perfect! I don't want you pulling your punches!"
Frowning in confusion, Kliff lifted a hand to the side of his face, his skin feeling partially rough under his touch. Not good. If the Ember burns bright enough, my cover's blown. Kliff didn't need another of his secrets traveling from mouth to ear around the academy. He'd need to be careful from this point onward, which wouldn't be much of a herculean task on his part. Not when Kliff intended to finish the duel within the next five minutes.
With a swift movement of his arm, Jack pointed his wand and yelled, "Mud Magic: Ectus Actus!" Immediately, four globes of water, carrying a mix of mud and rock, shot out from his wand, resembling swampy meteors as they raced toward their target.
In response, Kliff brandished his wand, softly uttering the incantation, "Ignax," as a blazing fireball shot forth from the tip of his crimson-colored wand. The intense, dark flames he summoned—the Ember—swirled around him like a fiery vortex. They wrapped around his outstretched arm and raced alongside the fireball as it flew, intertwining and merging with it. This created a dazzling display of blood-red light, increasing both the fireball's size, speed, and, most importantly, its intensity.
The explosive eruption of muddy earth—five in total—proved no match as each burst was engulfed by the soaring fireball, transforming the moist soil and grass into ash. With a startled yelp, Jack narrowly evaded the peril, leaping aside as the fiery orb careened past him, crashing into the side of the Butt Rock and winding into a cascade of flames that seemed to screech in one's ears.
Recollecting himself, Jack swiftly pointed his wand again, a sizable beam of muddy water surging out of it as he shouted, "Mud Magic: Ectus Torentum!"
Kliff stood tall on the grass, his feet planted firmly as he braced for what was to come. Without even attempting to evade the oncoming danger, he took a deep breath and extended one foot behind him. With a smooth, fluid motion, he swung his wand across his body, unleashing a blazing trail of orange light that illuminated the surrounding area. "Fire Magic: Drakorus!"
The Ember that had arisen from his innermost being now imbued his sorcery, and fiery tendrils swirled around his arm like blood-scaled serpents of flame, converging into a focused, seething deluge that burst forth from his wand.
In the heart of the forest, the clash of tainted water and relentless fire created echoes of heated wind that reverberated throughout the clearing like ripples spreading over a lake's surface. Initially, it appeared that Jack's water-based spell would easily overpower Kliff's, just as it had before. However, to Kliff's satisfaction, within seconds, his fierce torrent of fire began to consume the muddy water, akin to a powerful wyrm devouring a smaller, less developed creature within its cavernous mouth.
In just a few more seconds, Kliff anticipated that Jack would have been hit by a blast of fire. However, at the last moment, a muddy puddle formed and spread from Jack's feet, growing large enough for him to plunge straight into the earth with a loud splash. Dammit! He's on the move again.
A wise decision, all things considered. It was evident that Jack wasn't one to rely on strategy, preferring instead to trust his instincts over logical thinking. Nonetheless, Kliff acknowledged that Jack was no novice. Despite his loud and impulsive nature, he displayed a good understanding of dueling and was adept at wielding his unique brand of magic.
As Kliff closed his eyes, he felt the sensation of Jack's Essence Signature passing beneath his feet, as though the boy were swiftly tunneling through the ground like a diminutive, non-threatening molegoblin. In his mind's eye, Jack's Essence glimmered like a brilliant turquoise star streaking across a starless sky. But then, to Kliff's dismay, the single star divided into two, and those two stars multiplied into five separate Signatures, each moving in different directions.
He's doing it again. Trying to throw me off, Kliff thought with a grunt. Well, I'm not going to fall for it this time.
Remember, Kliff, Autumn's strict voice told him. During a duel, it's easy to fall into bad habits. Using powerful combat spells or reliable defensive spells repeatedly will have you disregard all the tools you have at your disposal. Most of all, you'd disregard your most necessary ticket to win.
As he cursed to himself, he felt the grip around his Salamander Wand tighten. Who was he to criticize Jack for being reckless when here he was, falling for the same irrational trappings of his past? He wasn't a beginner anymore. The sorcerer in training that he was should've known better than to succumb to such a simple error.
Some twenty meters away, Jack hopped out of the puddle that turned lush grass brown, and along with him, popping out of geysers of sludge, several Mud Men appeared. Jack didn't even have to issue an order before all of them—Kliff counted thirteen altogether; it wouldn't require much to finish them off—rushed for him at top speed, leaving clumps of mud wherever they stepped.
Closing burning eyes, breathing in slowly through his nostrils, Kliff extended his Salamander Wand, shouting with the rage of fire, "Fire Magic: Calorae!"
Kliff's wand expelled a flaming projectile with a reddish tint, resembling an arrow but moving three times faster. The projectile shot past a herd of charging Mud Men, disregarding them entirely as it hurtled toward Jack. Even in the face of danger, Jack responded with a lighthearted chuckle, seemingly preparing another trick as he drew back his fist as if ready to throw a punch.
Kliff's spell was just a few strides away from him when it suddenly veered off course, curving sharply and speeding off to the right side of the forest clearing at incredible speed. Jack's smiling expression quickly turned into one of utter confusion as he watched the spell change direction. The fire arrow, whistling with intense heat, pierced the ground and vanished beneath the earth's crust.
A deafening explosion reverberated below the forest, sending Jack staggering to one knee. An enormous cloud of earth, water, and smoke billowed several feet into the air, taking on the appearance of a hideous, black mushroom. Violent gusts of heated air swept across the landscape, even reaching Kliff at a distance. Despite the force of the blast, the boy stood firm, raising his arm to shield himself from the onslaught.
Squinting tightly, Kliff discerned the figure of the sorcerer, concealed within the earth and mud. A sudden blast of fire and smoke propelled a screaming Jack—the real Jack—to the surface, his clothing charred and tattered, revealing his bruised skin. "And there we have it," Kliff muttered, taking aim with his wand. "My victory."
As Jack hovered in the air, he slowly creaked open his eyes. In that brief moment, he caught a glimmer of the orange light emanating from the wand pointed directly at him. "Wh...What the...?"
In the dark illumination of the Ember's flickering light, Kliff experienced a surge of exhilaration as he tapped into the power of the Essence coursing through his being, allowing his magic to surge unbound. It was a perilous act, conjuring up haunting recollections and causing the shadows within his fiery display to writhe in dread, but amidst it all, Kliff found a fleeting sense of peace within the depths of the flames. "Fire Magic: Ignax."
Fiery ribbons of energy, like blazing fingers, coiled around the fireball, expanding steadily from the tip of Kliff's wand. The fire grew more and more intense, swelling in size until, like an ignited torpedo, it shot away from him with incredible speed. Kliff felt a surge of kinetic energy explode at his wrist, sending a jolting sensation through his entire arm and eliciting a pained wince.
The scorching sphere tore through the sky with incredible velocity and force. Kliff could hardly even manage a blink before it crashed into Jack in mid-flight, sending him hurtling backward until he crashed into the unyielding trunk of a towering galbora tree, where he remained slumped motionless.
Glancing intensely, Kliff analyzed the approaching Mud Men, who were just a short ways from him, until the amorphous creatures suddenly went still, resembling liquid frozen in time, and a gentle breeze would easily topple them, causing each one to disintegrate into puddles of murky sludge on the grass. Meanwhile, the "fake" Jack nodded in approval from a distance. "Not bad, Dresden," he grinned. It was the last thing he said before he melted into a heap of mud.
Kliff waited cautiously until all of them had disappeared, and only then did he inhale a deep breath and pull back the Ember. The bloodred fire had grown to the size of a small house, and as he absorbed it, it seemed to flow into his body like water into a sponge. When he exhaled, no flames were left, only burned flakes dancing in the air like hot snow.
Letting his dominant arm drop to his side, Kliff began trudging over to where Jack landed, grimacing from the pain igniting his body in spots. That duel had taken more out of him than he cared to admit. As he approached, Jack lifted his head slowly at him. "For a second there...I thought I had you...but I guess I'm...still too weak to take on...a mighty Dresden in combat."
"Dresden or not, you put up a great fight," Kliff said, trying to sound like he wasn't about to drop unconscious.
"How...did you do it?" Jack asked. "How did you know...not to attack my clone?"
"For one, your clone didn't have a wand."
Jack frowned. "Yeah, I should probably work on that, huh?"
"While your magic was difficult to decipher, the more I dueled you, the more I learned of your tricks. I realized soon enough you could be beaten." Kliff raised a finger in the air as he explained. "With every clone or Mud Man you spawn, you implant a piece of Essence inside them so as to disorient your opponent's Magic Sense. That way, you can deceive someone into thinking they are genuine breathing creatures, all the while keeping yourself hidden in the mud. I suspect you went so far as to Suppress your magical energy as well, if only to enhance your illusion."
Jack let out a small laugh, looking down at his smoldered weak point, which had lost its blue glow. "Amazing, you read me like a book. I knew drawing this duel out was a bad idea, but you just wouldn't stay down. Even so, that doesn't explain how you found me."
"Doesn't it?" Kliff said expectantly. "Once I uncovered the truth of your magic, I merely had to stop relying on my Magic Sense and use a different means of tracking you. Take my Calorae Spell, for instance. I wouldn't say it's especially powerful, but it's a spell that locks onto my target's heat signature. Flesh and sweat, a beating heart, and pumping lungs. Walking clumps of mud couldn't replicate any of that, no matter how strong their magical energy is."
"If you had a spell like that...why didn't you use it earlier?" Jack asked dubiously, holding his waist as he repositioned himself where he sat against the galbora tree. "Why wait so long?"
"Good question," Kliff smirked. "I guess I'm not as smart as I thought I was. Then again, for as long as I can remember, fire has always had a way of clouding my judgment, especially in a duel. I prefer my duels short and simple; we're similar in that regard, I suppose."
"Similar? You and I? As if! If I'm ever gonna enlist in the Military, if I'm ever gonna beat you in mystical combat, then I'll just have to keep on training until my body gives out! That's what a real man would do!"
Kliff raised a brow at him. I'm not so sure that's a good idea...
"And, hey, maybe we could duel again sometime," Jack said with a wounded yet optimistic grin, extending a hand at Kliff. "I'd love a rematch."
Kliff chuckled as he lowered himself onto bent knees, reaching out to snatch Jack's hand in a solid and reassuring grip. "Just name the place."