Out of Time

“I can’t let you leave Mork”

The sudden call from the darkness surprised him, but the intrusion wasn’t completely unexpected. Syldan was aware that he’d been under scrutiny for his recent activity. He expected more resistance however, a single mage blocked his path.

“Turn around now, I don’t want to have to fight you”

Well, that was true enough, Syldan thought grimly, a fight between adepts was wild and unpredictable. Despite the care and patience mages needed for the use of their power, battle was just an explosion of clashing forces that couldn’t be planned for and no one could predict the outcome. More often than not, both parties were killed by the unexpected consequences of spells interacting in ways no one had ever expected.

Despite that, Syldan had already begun tracing runes within the folds of his robe. Surely, his mysterious assailant was already doing the same.

“And if I do? What awaits me with the committee” Syldan shot back.

“I don’t know brother, but you will stand before them to answer for this betrayal. Perhaps you will find leniency if you return what was stolen. I could put in a word for you, I have no wish to see a friend suffer.” Bradoch offered as he stepped forward to reveal himself.

Syldan knew though, attempting to leave the organisation was a death sentence, they had no *former *members. His intent to slip away would be considered akin to treason.

He began tracing a simple defensive spell with his left foot, the standoff was almost over. Bradoch was an old friend, but the organisation always took precedence, neither of them had a choice anymore.

“You know I can’t do that Brad. We both know what my sentence will be.”

There was a moment of silence and then the world around them exploded as they both unleashed the spells they’d been quietly tracing.

All bets were off now, once the chaos of battle began, the very fabric of reality was warped. With so many spells unleashed in such a small area, they wouldn’t behave as intended. The air crackled with unintended elemental effects and spacial distortions had already begun forming before the first exchange was complete. They’d both started with the most powerful magics at their disposal and it was too much, normally this level of disturbance would take a number of exchanges.

Both mages furiously drew new spell circles with both hands, both near ambidextrous from decades of study and practice. They could cast two spells at once without breaking a sweat. Syldan still held his ward, drawn with his foot, in place though at this point, there was no guarantee it would protect him any more.

As the next round of power was unleashed, the already volatile atmosphere around them entered a new state of chaos.

Both mages were forced to fight for survival from the backlash of the magics they’d unleashed. Rifts began opening up in the air between them and forces that couldn’t be explained began exploding in the air around them.

Syldan put all his effort into holding back the distortions, no longer casting at all, just holding a defensive ward by the sheer strength of his will.

Bradoch imploded as a rift appeared beside him, tearing half of his body away to oblivion. The remaining pieces dropping to the floor with sickening wet slaps.

Brad was gone, but the battle was far from over for Syldan, he still needed to get away from the warped space their battle had created. It would take weeks to dissipate so he couldn’t just ride it out, not to mention, their battle almost certainly drew the attention of others.

It took him what felt like forever to back step out of the warped space, buffeted by forces that shouldn’t exist. He was mentally exhausted but he couldn’t hang around. At least, he knew his pursuers wouldn’t risk casting a tracking spell so close to the magic maelstrom he left in his wake, so he had a little time to get away.

He needed to find allies, the committee had deceived him and Syldan vowed to make them answer for it. “Farewell brother” he whispered to honour a friend lost as he turned and started walking to the southeast.