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It started with the death of the Rector. I had been eager to contest the Succession when the previous Rector had died but my great friend and mentor, Tormen had convinced me not to.
"If you enter, I am sure you will win," he had told me. "But when you have won you will spend all your time defending your position. You are young, that gives you strengths but the old guard will think you weak and open to attack. Sit this one out. None of the other challengers will last 10 years and in that time your power will grow, you can take time to explore and research and when the next succession comes around you will have all the influence you need to govern effectively."
Tormen had vouched for me when I was a baby, sparing me from the drudgery of a life as a farmer's son. At first I did not agree with his view but I trusted his wisdom and as the years passed I saw he had been right. I visited old ruins and spent days at a time in the magic labs, seeking answers to how our craft worked. I am not sure I will ever find those answers but I gained a keener appreciation of how to manipulate magic.
The old man died before the Succession came around. I performed the funeral rites myself, conjuring dramatic illusions of his life's work and guiding an asteroid out of orbit to ignite his pyre. It was perhaps my finest magic. We did not discuss it beforehand but I am sure he knew I would use the situation to further my cause, just as he had always taught me to do.
As I sat in my study with the envelope containing the list of challengers who had entered the contest, I felt a thrill to see confirmation that my time had come. I concentrated briefly and moved the letter through the unbroken envelope. My reputation had been built on such delicate manipulations.
As a student I had been taught how to slit an envelope magically but the poor teacher had never truly understood magic. Like many wizards they saw it as a means of improving on the actions of commoners. Few ever saw the real potential that magic offers.
The list was pretty much what I had expected. There were always a group of idealists, their imaginations far more potent than their skills, who would make no credible challenge.
The wizened Altor had entered again. Altor had contested every Succession for seventy years without success. In his prime he had been a great wizard but he had always been bested by a brilliant opponent or unfortunate circumstances. He didn't pose a serious threat but he would be more capable than most of the others.
Another two or three competent wizards with no noteworthy story had entered, perhaps to gain experience, perhaps they were deluded enough to think they could beat me.
The final entrant was a minor surprise. Artemis was one of my own pupils and had a bright future. She had approached me to discuss entering the contest to cover my back and ensure my victory. I was impressed at her devotion but assured her I would be more than capable of matching my opponents. Any defeat lingers in the mind of a wizard and their peers, I warned her she might always carry it with her. Evidently she had decided to take the risk.
* * *
The contest always starts as the first sun rises after the Rector's death. The same testing ground has been used for millennia. Each contestant is given a gold staff before they enter the arena. The last entrant to have an intact staff becomes Rector and receives the real staff of office. The Master of Ceremony handed us all the shining rods and teleported us to random positions on the grounds.
I was moved to a relatively open area, I judged it to be on the north western perimeter. I scanned my surroundings quickly to identify any immediate threats. Finding none, I strolled toward the centre of the arena nonchalantly.
It is not enough merely to win
, Tormen's words echoed in my head,
you must show them they were fools for thinking anyone else could have won.
Ahead of me I saw Altor sparring with one of the idealist no-hopers. I walked around them, happy to turn my back on their efforts. I had gone perhaps twenty paces when I heard the crack of a staff being broken.
Altor had triumphed and being the wise old soul that he is immediately fired off a blinding curse at me. I knew it was coming though and had spun out of its path and severed his staff with a precise fireball before he could react. I felt some sympathy for the old man, he was a better wizard than many of the Rectors that had beaten him over the years but sometimes fate cannot be denied. I moved onwards.
The ruins of an ancient temple lay at the centre of the arena. As I approached it, I saw Halak and Ruon standing beside each other staring toward me. I was not surprised, pacts were common in the Succession and it made sense for them to ally against me to increase their own chances.
Show no weakness
, Tormen once said,
you can never back down.
I sauntered towards them, making no aggressive moves. I knew they would be unable to resist the urge to strike out.
Ruon blinked first. He teleported behind me and launched a bone breaking curse at me, presumably trying to force me into dropping the staff. Halak reacted to his move by attempting a teleportation snare to limit my movement. Both were too slow. I countered the snare and simply dodged the curse. I aimed a fireball at Halak as a decoy and charmed the wall behind him to collapse after a few seconds – delayed action magic is some of the hardest, most wizards do not have enough power to prevent the spell decaying before it takes effect.
Halak didn't spot it and as he moved to block the fireball he had to spin around to repel the falling masonry. I lashed out with a blasting curse and snapped his staff. Ruon had taken the opportunity to channel a strong magic sapping curse at me but I correctly anticipated he would attempt to eliminate me in one blow and give me enough time to teleport out of the way.
As soon as I materialised I disarmed him by summoning his staff. He turned to me and bowed in recognition. I reciprocated and crumbled his staff to dust between my fingers. As he was teleported away I again scanned the area. Artemis approached from the east. She gave me a bright smile and drew the crest of Tormen in the air, a sign I use with my pupils to demonstrate camaraderie. I did likewise.
We began to circle each other. I had fought her many times and knew her to be an excellent duelist but with certain predictable moves that she would need to eradicate before she could take on top class opposition. I wondered if she would hold back or fight to her best, trusting I would be equal to the challenge. I began by sending a cone of raw power toward her. Wisely she didn't attempt to block it but conjured an angular shield to funnel the magic either side of her. I tapped my staff on the ground to acknowledge her good skill.
She animated a selection of rocks nearby which leapt into the air and pelted towards me. I inwardly acknowledged the fine spellwork as I blasted the rocks aside. She had made the same mistake as Ruon, attempting to use the brief time available to her to deliver a knockout blow. She finished her spell and I only just had time to turn it aside, surprised for the first time in the contest because I didn't recognise it. Regardless she wasn't ready for my quick recovery and I disarmed her easily.
* * *
Traditionally the incoming Rector holds an audience with each of the losing candidates in the order they were eliminated. Contesting the Succession commits a wizard to a magical bond preventing them from doing harm or conspiring to do harm to any other candidate. A Rector is generally expected to give two or three of his competitors places on his ruling council. I didn't rate them highly but I didn't see it wise to alienate the establishment straight away. Altor I appointed as Custodian of Lore as a reward for his long years of effort. Ruon and Halak I gave minor positions for the show of the thing.
At last Artemis came for her interview. She had ditched her ceremonial contest robe for a simple white summer dress. She gave me a brilliant smile, her brown eyes sparkling.
"Congratulations, your excellency," she said with a bow.
