Andrew Rowe - Sufficiently Advanced Magic

Someone had made the mistake of standing to indicate she had a question. It took me a moment to realize it was Marissa, who probably should have known better. Then again, she was also the most likely to survive if Teft didn’t like what she had to say.

“What happens if two spells collide that aren’t the same or opposites? Fire and lightning, for example.”

Teft groaned. “Not important for the current lesson, but if you must know, they generally explode . The interactions between non-opposing mana types are more complex. There are charts. But you shouldn’t be worrying about that, because you shouldn’t be using those types of mana to counter each other. Like deflects like, opposites nullify. There are precious few scenarios where you will need to know anything else.”

I could think of several.

I had only a very limited number of types of mana at my disposal, so knowing which ones I could use to counter enemy spells without detonating myself would be useful. Teft’s lessons, as usual, were more applicable to Shapers and Elementalists — both of whom had immediate access to more combat-focused magic than I did.

“Now, if we’re done with asking—”

Sera stood up.

“Ah, a Cadence has decided to disrupt the class again. Yes?”

I smirked. At least we were making ourselves stand out.

Sera matched my expression, apparently unbothered. “What’s the opposite of gray mana?”

Teft folded his arms. “Doesn’t exist. Now, questions are over. Onto the box.”

There’s no opposite to gray mana?

That sounded… wrong. I mean, if gray was some kind of combination of all the types of mana, maybe it was true. Still, it felt like everything should have an opposite. I’d have to look into that later.

The teacher stood, reaching down to a lock on the side of the box and flicking it. The lock came free, and he opened the top. “Line up. You’re each getting a new cane for today’s lesson.”

We formed a line, and then approached one at a time. Teft handed each of us a long cane, similar in style to his own. It had two runes on the handle, similar to a standard dueling cane, but no evidence of a blade within.

As he handed each of us a cane, he also paused to check the status of our shield sigils and refill them. He must have an absurd amount of mana if he can refill the sigils for an entire class without any sign of effort — at least a couple hundred? I’m going to have to research what the upper limits on human mana look like, that seems pretty high.

Once we each had a cane, he gave us a brief warning not to do anything with them yet, and then waved for us to follow him.

He led us to an unfamiliar single-story building of solid stone. Within was a large arena. It was probably about a hundred feet across, maybe thirty feet wide.

There were white lines painted on the floor, dividing the room into thin, rectangular sections like the lanes in a swimming pool. Or, more like a race track, given how thin they were. I didn’t think we’d be having a footrace in class but, given Teft’s unpredictability, I could never be sure.

On the far side of the room, I saw about a half a dozen people sitting behind a table. They looked a little older than us, but not old enough to be teachers. Either recent graduates or second year students, then. Judges, maybe?

I hadn’t had to do any dueling with a judge yet — not unless that first spar with Teft counted. It was a bad time for me to jump into a duel. Most students were going to have picked up a few tricks with their attunements by now, but I didn’t have any useful enchanted equipment yet. I was basically in the same situation that I would have been on day one, aside from maybe having a bit more mana from daily practice.

“Split up into two even groups and face each other. Team one is going to stand here.” He pointed to a line near one wall. “Team two should be opposite them. Each of you should be standing within a lane.”

As we followed his instructions, the people on the other side of the room stood from their chairs and started heading our way.

There was nothing saying I couldn’t be strategic, so I tried to position myself opposite from a student I thought I could handle. Unfortunately, virtually all the students I knew personally had an advantage against me. I paid more attention to students that I knew would be a major threat. I hadn’t bothered to examine the others as extensively.

I used that to narrow the field, setting myself opposite from an Elementalist who I hadn’t seen do anything impressive yet. Elementalists had a lot more firepower than I did, but ultimately they were among the most predictable duelists. I had to hope I could anticipate his actions sufficiently to compensate for my lack of flexibility.

Teft moved to the center of the room to speak. “In your hands is a practice version of a war cane. The lower rune is used to project a slow-moving orb of gray mana with about three times the power of a standard blast from a dueling cane. The upper rune charges the top portion of the war cane with gray mana, similar to the blade on a dueling cane, but not suitable for direct attacks. It has a different purpose. If you haven’t figured it out by now, you haven’t been paying attention.”

Deflection.

He’s setting us up to play a ball game with real weapons.

As dangerous as that sounded, it actually made me more confident. If the whole idea was to project and deflect things from the cane, that meant we probably wouldn’t be using our attunements, which would significantly improve my odds.

“The rules are simple. Once we begin, you will commence firing at the team opposite you. You can attempt to deflect your opponents’ orbs with your own, or by activating your cane and physically knocking them out of the way. No offensive spells, this is cane practice. Your only weapons are the canes from the box. You can, however, use any defensive abilities at your disposal.”

He turned around, looking at the other side of the room. “You’re disqualified once you’re hit by three orbs. When that happens, step to the safety of the ring. The judges,” he pointed at the older students, “will remind you if you’ve taken three hits. I will be activating a barrier that will prevent any stray projectiles from exiting the battlefield and hitting bystanders.”

Teft began walking out of the field. “You’ll be scored both based on hits you land, deflections, and how long you last. Survival is the most important of the three.”

Lord Teft pointed to the boundary of a lane. “One last thing. You must remain in your lane until someone adjacent to you has been disqualified, at which point you may move if you chose. Oh, and if I didn’t make this clear enough before — you’re all starting at once.”

I stared blankly for a second after that line, picturing what was going to happen as soon as two lines of twenty students opened fire and began deflecting projectiles.

Utter. Chaos.

I should have guessed that Teft’s idea of dueling practice couldn’t possibly be as simple as a duel .

From the murmuring around me, I could tell that others shared my opinion. The student on my left was clinging to his cane like it was the last piece of driftwood in the ocean.

Oh, Patrick was on my right. That was good.

He nodded in acknowledgement when I noticed him, looking grim.

I was displeased when I realized that Marissa was on the opposite end of the field.

With defensive skills allowed, attunements like hers had an advantage. She could potentially deflect projectiles with a bare hand without needing to rely on a cane or her barrier. I didn’t know her personal capabilities, but some Guardians could cover their entire bodies in mana. If she could do that, she’d be practically invincible in this test.