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“Ignira!”I call, launching a hasty fireball at her. But she teleports away, replicating my movements.
My spell blazes through empty air and is absorbed by the arena’s barrier. She reappears on the right.
It is then I realize my grave mistake.
Besides replicating my appearance, the clone can imitate whichever spells I cast. The longer I fight it, the more spells it will learn from me. After watching many other adepts undertake the Trial of Magic, I know the successful ones are always the ones who defeat it the swiftest.
That’s because my opponent is a being of pure aether and can instantly restore its strength by absorbing the magic lying in the surrounding air. My power, however, will quickly deplete. I am limited by the amount of aether in my blood. Without it, I can’t draw more from the air to fuel my spells. Only resting will replenish the aether coursing through my veins.
My strength is finite. The aether spirit’s is not. I must defeat it before it learns too many spells, and before I tire. Only by selecting every move with great care will I achieve this.
The aether spirit conjures a fireball much like mine. Flames rush at me.
Teleportation requires much aether, and it won’t inflict any damage onto my enemy. I must conserve all the magic I can.
“Aquis!”I instead shout. The aether in my hands turns to water magic.
I fling the bolt of pressurized water at the fireball.
The two spells collide. The water extinguishes the flames, and the remaining drops splash across the ground. Puddles glisten beneath us.
I glare at the aether spirit, and it glares back. I can see the calculating look in its eyes—in my eyes—and I know it’s already plotting its next attack.
I must strike first.
“Telum!”I call, releasing a blast of aether. It’s far from a complex spell, but it’s better that way. My clone’s first attack was also a blast of aether, so there’s no risk in it learning a new spell.
But the aether spirit teleports away. When my blast reaches it, only empty space remains. My enemy has no need to worry about the cost of teleportation spells. Thanks to its endless supply of aether, it can cast as many spells as it likes.
Panic jolts through me.
I made a terrible mistake with my first move. I should never have teleported away. Now the aether spirit knows this spell, landing a blow on it will be nearly impossible.
I curse my stupidity. Then I whirl around, searching for where the aether spirit has reappeared. I know my father will be so disappointed with me for this foolish error.
I find the aether spirit behind me, already launching three quick bolts. Not daring to create a shield and teach my opponent yet another spell, I leap aside.
The move is far from graceful. I lose my balance and fall.
The ground slams into my shoulder at an awkward angle. I force myself upright and stagger onto my feet, clutching my shoulder.
Flames crackle. They surge toward me.
Left with no alternative, I hurriedly conjure a water shield. “Aquis’muriz!”I shout, drawing a bubble around myself. My haste makes the spell weak. But it’s enough to cause the flames to fizzle out when they reach me.
Though the attack saved me, I’ve now taught it how to counter fire.
Fighting with reservation and choosing simple spells is doing me no favors. While we have only exchanged a few blows, it seems the aether spirit is already beating me.
No.
I can’t let it win. Failure isn’t an option. Failure means losing everything. Sacrificing my future. Shaming my father.
I must defeat the aether spirit before it defeats me.
Determination rises in my chest. I must strike it down with all the force I can muster. And quickly.
The aether spirit conjures a bolt of water.
