Andrew Rowe - Sufficiently Advanced Magic

Does the room only react when a person touches the floor?

What about items?

That was an easy enough test. I fished a copper coin out of my bag and flipped it onto the floor of the room.

No reaction from the vines.

Okay, now I’m getting somewhere.

Can I make something to stand on?

I considered throwing the box and using that as a platform to jump on, but just one platform wouldn’t get me very far.

The cage that was around the fountain, maybe?

I walked over to the fountain, stepped onto the side, carefully avoiding splashes of the acid. I sheathed my sword. From there, I hopped onto the side of the cage and started to climb.

“What are you doing?” Sera had turned toward me to stare.

“Was going to cut this thing down and try to roll it into the next room. The floor doesn’t seem to react to inanimate objects.”

“Will that even fit through the doorway?”

I glanced at the doorway, then back to the cage, measuring with my eyes.

“…probably not.”

I hopped back down, narrowly avoiding falling in the fountain. When I stumbled, I tried to make it look intentional. “Uh, so, are you two done?”

“No, but this is embarrassing. Vanniv, we’ve got a time limit. Can we please finish this discussion later if I promise to re-summon you to conclude our talk soon?”

Vanniv scratched his chin. “Within the day.”

“Agreed.” Sera extended a hand, and Vanniv clasped it at the wrist. “Now, please assist us with handling this test?”

“It does look rather amusing. I do not believe I can carry you both while in flight, if that was what you had in mind.”

“Can you carry just one of us?”

“For a short distance. My wings are not meant to bear a large burden.”

Sera pointed at me. “Take him inside. You can put him down next to the throne.”

Oh, of course I have to be the one going into the trap.

Vanniv picked me up like he was cradling a child. Given our difference in size, I suppose it wasn’t that surprising, but it was still a little embarrassing.

I felt surprisingly little when his wings beat and carried us over the floor. No rush of wind. We were indoors, after all. His stone muscles — were they literally stone? — barely seemed to twitch in response.

Once we were hovering, he floated us into the room. The vines didn’t seem to respond, which was good. We’d only hypothesized about the floor triggering them.

He was breathing heavily by the time he set me down next to the throne. The vines noticeably twitched and pushed in further when my feet hit the floor.

“So, how’s this work? You take the crown and you win?”

I frowned. “We’re not actually sure what the objective of the room is. The crown is the obvious prize, but I’m guessing what we really want is something hidden in the vines, like that shiny thing over by the door.”

I pointed at the small object that I’d seen from the doorway.

“If this is anything like the tower, there are probably multiple things you’d want in here. Or nothing.”

“Well, we’re probably timed, so I’m going to see if this does anything.”

I grabbed the crown.

The door to the room slammed shut.

I caught a flash of gold out of the corner of my eye. In a rare display of competence, I kicked myself backward off the throne and onto the floor, pushing myself out of the way of the projectile.

As I pushed myself off the floor, I realized what had nearly hit me — the golden greatsword that had been hiding in the vines in the back corner.

And, as I rose and turned toward where the sword had flown, I saw a new figure.

Nine feet tall, clad in armor of golden leaves. His face was covered by a steel mask that instantly reminded me of Keras, but this one covered every inch of skin.

He held the greatsword in a single hand, while the other arm pointed toward me in accusation.

“You have my crown.”

His voice had force . It reminded me of the pressure I’d felt in the air when I’d encountered Katashi. My knees wanted to buckle, but I held steady.

Vanniv was still hovering above me. “Huh. He looks sort of dangerous.”

I lifted the crown — I’d managed to hold onto it when I’d dodged the sword. “I’m pretty sure that’s supposed to be a representation of the Tyrant in Gold.”

The armored figure tilted his head downward, his eyes burning. And by that, I mean his eyes were literally fire .

“You insult me. I am no mere ‘representation’. The crown is mine.”

I flinched, considering as I turned my gaze to meet the titanic king. “I meant no offense, great one. If the crown belongs to you, I will gladly return it.”

I didn’t think the scenario would support something that easy, but hey, why not try?

“You are wise to acknowledge my greatness. Return the crown and I will make your end painless.”

Ah, yeah, not going to go that route.

“That’s a very friendly offer, but I’m afraid I’m going to have to decline.”

A moment of turning my attunement on — and then back off — showed me that both the crown and the Tyrant glowed brightly with magic.

I set the crown on my head, hoping for a surge of power.

Predictably, nothing happened.

“Insolent fool. My patience is at an end.”

The Tyrant gestured with his free hand and the vines surged inward toward me.

I ducked, picking up my fallen sword, and lashed out at the closest vines. The blade cut true, severing tendrils in a splatter of ichor, but the vines were far too numerous.

“Vanniv, burn the vines!”

Then they were all around me, wrapping around my limbs and throat. My barrier didn’t trigger to stop them from making contact. They weren’t moving fast enough or applying enough force for it to register them. Not yet, at least.

Vanniv looked down at me, raising a single gray eyebrow. “You want me to set them on fire while in them?”

“Just a little fire to clear them!”

Vanniv laughed. “I don’t do little , kid.”

He stretched out a hand just as I felt the tendrils begin to tighten.

My vision turned white — and not because of the pressure.

When my eyes cleared, there was a perfectly circular gap in the vines around me, maybe ten feet in diameter. Charred remains littered the floor, but I hadn’t felt a degree of heat.

That was… impressive. Not the intensity of the attack. I’d seen plenty of powerful fire spells. The degree of control necessary to make the flames exclude me.

The vines that had wrapped around my body were still there — a foot or two of plant connected to each limb and around my throat — but they were disconnected from the main body now and had ceased to move. I brushed them away in disgust, turning back to the Tyrant.

“Okay, that was pretty good,” I admitted. “You want to light him up next?”

“With pleasure.” Vanniv pointed a hand at the Tyrant. I saw the effect more clearly this time. A bead of flame manifested in the air right in front of the Tyrant, then flickered as it detonated into an incendiary sphere.

I should have known better than to hope it would be that easy.

When the smoke cleared, the Tyrant was unsinged.

An echoing laugh emanated from the armored figure. “Your magic is weak. Your resistance irrelevant.”

Vanniv balled his hands into fists. “Weak? You haven’t seen a fraction of what I can do.”

The Tyrant began to walk forward with a deliberate slowness. He was maybe twenty feet away. It wouldn’t take him long to close the distance even at a slow pace.

Okay, what was I missing here? How did people handle the Tyrant in Gold in legends?