Alaistair Archibald - Questor

He began to think he had been wrong to trust the lecherous, corpulent Technician, Deeks. For three hours, Armitage had been playing Grimm and Xylox for fools, putting them through all kinds of tests and experiments. It sickened the demon to see two such proud and powerful thaumaturges reduced to eager performing animals, and Thribble began to worry that Deeks had succumbed to cowardice.

He hoped with all his heart he was wrong.

Now, Grimm sat in the chair, garlanded with the strange, silver tendrils, and a white-coated Technician had just brought in a rabbit in a cage, placing it on the floor in front of the magic-user. "Now, Grimm," Armitage called from the safety of his screen. "I want you to destroy this animal."

"Why, Armitage?" the mage asked. "It has done no harm to me."

Momentary hope surged within the demon at this brief flicker of polite opposition.

"For no reason other than the fact that I have asked you, mage," the Administrator replied in a stern voice. "Just do it."

Grimm's moment of defiance faded, and he shrugged. "Very well; I'm sorry, rabbit." He sighed.

The mage took a deep breath, extended his right hand and shrieked "Sh'kat'ya sh'yarai!" The metal cage exploded, sundered fragments bouncing across the floor and off the walls in a tinkling chorus. On the wall behind where it had stood was a wet, red stain; all that remained of the small, hapless animal it had so recently contained.

"Thank you, Grimm. That ends this series of tests. I wish to thank you both for your co-operation," the Administrator said, stripping the metal tendrils from Grimm's head. "I have one last little favour to ask of you, gentlemen. I will be leaving the room in a few moments. I want you to wait a few moments, and then I want you to attack each other."

Xylox looked shocked, Grimm no less. "This is my brother Guild Mage, Armitage. I have sworn an oath; I cannot in conscience attack him, even for you," the elder mage said, his face a mask of concern.

"Indeed, Administrator; Xylox and I are not friends, but we are Guildbrothers," Grimm gasped. "Don't ask this of us, I beg you. I would hate to have to disappoint you after all you have done for us."

Come on, Xylox, Grimm, fight! Thribble thought. Your fight is not with each other, but with your true enemy!

"Is this gratitude?" Armitage screamed.

The Questors flinched, as if the impact of his voice had driven them back.

"Very well; I'm not asking you anymore. I order you to fight to the death. Do as you are told!"

The two mages swayed, and each clutched his temples, his clenched teeth bared, as if his head were being crushed.

After long moments of inaction, Grimm spoke: "I don't want to, Armitage, but I will do it for you, and only for you."

"I am also prepared to fight," Xylox declared. "I will not allow this jejune stripling to attack me unopposed."

"I'm glad to hear it," the Haven man said. "I only have one further request; I don't want either of you ending up like that rabbit. There must be enough left of the loser for me to study. Is that clear?"

Both mages nodded.

Thribble could see that each man considered himself the stronger Questor, but one of them must be wrong.

Do it, Deeks! he urged inside his skull, as if the vehemence of the thought alone might rouse the portly Technician to action. Be quick!

Armitage left the room, and the two mages began to circle each other like a pair of wary tigers, each assessing the other's agility.

"You will be defeated, Afelnor," Xylox declared. "I will take no pleasure in it, but I do not intend to lose. I am the better Questor."

"I am young and strong," Grimm declared. "You are old and slow. I will win."

Xylox broke the deadlock, screaming the first spell. Grimm flinched and staggered back, twitching and shivering like a man possessed. He managed to gather his strength and throw off the spell, and he countered by swinging Redeemer at the older mage's head. Xylox barely parried the blow in time.

Blue sparks flew as each mage strained to force his staff past the other's guard for a few minutes, and then a cacophony of nonsensical spell-words began. Thribble hunched deeper under his protective cables, as the Questors wrought dire destruction on the room without either gaining a decisive advantage. Dazzling displays of light flew across the room, smashing furniture and equipment to pieces, blowing holes in the walls and ceiling as the battle raged.

Neither man remained unscathed. Each bore a profusion of cuts, contusions or burns on his skin, although none appeared of a disabling nature. However, Xylox had begun to pant, whilst Grimm seemed unfazed.

The younger man smiled, revealing red-stained teeth as he seemed to find a spell he liked: a mass of compressed air that pounded Xylox like a giant fist, over and over again.

At first, the older mage raised counter-spells, but the relentless hammering went on and on, and, after a few minutes' assault, Xylox slumped to the floor.

"You are beaten, Xylox!" Grimm screamed. "I have won!"

He closed in to stand over his fallen foe, drawing his hands above his head in preparation for some climactic spell. Xylox's staff swept out and took his overconfident younger colleague's feet from under him, and then impacted on the young man's chest, causing Grimm to draw back, his eyelids and teeth clenched in a rictus of pain.

The two men lay for a few minutes, breathing hard, before each staggered to his feet.

"I am almost sorry you will have to die, Questor Grimm," Xylox rumbled. "I still have plenty of energy to call on from my staff, while it seems that you lack this sleight."

"I don't need it, old man." Grimm gasped, his grey complexion giving the lie to his statement, as a trickle of blood ran from his lips. "I am stronger than you in any case."

The two mages squared up for what Thribble guessed must be the last time, when an amplified yell came from the corner of the room; the distorted but recognisable voice of Armitage.

"Stop what you are doing at once!" the voice screamed, and the thaumaturges stepped back from each other. "I am your despised enemy. You remember all that I have done to you, and you hate me for it. This order cannot be countermanded, and you will under no circumstances obey any other order of mine!"

The sheer volume of the metallic shout made the perforated walls reverberate with its power, and it seemed to stun the two magic-users for a moment.

"Are you… all right, Questor Xylox?" Grimm gasped.

"I have never felt better, Questor Grimm," the older man wheezed. "Do you need any strength from Nemesis? Some still remains."

"I could use some," Grimm replied, smiling as Xylox laid a restorative hand on his colleague's shoulder. "Do you need any Healing? I have some small talent in that area."

"Perhaps just a little," Xylox said.

For a few minutes, Grimm worked with salves and magic words on his fellow mage.

"That is much better," the senior Questor acknowledged. "What do you want to do now, Questor Grimm?"

"In my humble opinion," Grimm replied, "We should tear this stinking slave pen to pieces, rescue our companions and get back to our Quest."

"Agreed," Xylox said. "But we destroy Armitage first of all. Are you ready now?"

"I'm ready Xylox; let's do it. He won't know what he's unleashed. I almost feel sorry for him: almost, but not quite."

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Grimm assessed the severity of the injuries done to him during his battle with Xylox. None appeared to be of a disfiguring or crippling nature, and he felt proud that he had stood up to the full extent of a Seventh Rank Questor's wrath and prevailed. Any mortal facing such an onslaught would have been destroyed in a heartbeat, as Armitage would soon discover.