At some point, Ezekiel was separated from Edric. He managed to keep himself free of any injuries, but he was starting to wear down. His movements slowed, and his energy was drained. After taking out a group of soldiers, Tryce Klatrix approached him.

Ezekiel took in a slow, deep breath. Of all the times to face the top sorcerer of his time, this wasn’t it.

Tryce nodded once. Ezekiel did the same.

“I’ve heard a great deal about you, young one,” Tryce said. His voice came out strong despite his age. Ezekiel realized he hadn’t really heard the man speak before.

“Your reputation precedes you as well,” Ezekiel said.

Tryce nodded. “Indeed.”

The man went to turn and walk away, or so Ezekiel thought. But he spun around and threw a gale of wind toward him. Ezekiel quickly crossed his arms in front of him, slid his palms down the length of his arms, and ended with his hands crossed, fingers splayed out wide to block the wind. His feet slid along the ground and he let out a grunt as the force hit him.

So that’s how you want to play it…

Ezekiel summoned a ball of bright white light and threw it at the sorcerer, who easily dissolved the blinding spell with a wave of his hand.

“Not bad,” Tryce said. “I believe you can do better. Come on, boy.”

Ezekiel didn’t want to know what the man thought he was doing. The last thing he needed was to be exhausted from the fight and end up bed-ridden for days on end. It was bad enough he felt that was the direction he headed in to begin with. But to face off with a man like Tryce? That was insanity. However, it didn’t seem like he had much of a choice in the matter. Ezekiel stared dumbfounded at the sorcerer.

Tryce shook his head and threw a bolt of lightning at Ezekiel’s feet. “Fight me.”

Ezekiel shook his head. A fight with the great sorcerer, Tryce Klatix, would end in death for sure. Despite being the top sorcerer of Nighthelm, Ezekiel’s skills weren’t quite as powerful as the old man’s. As it were, it was frowned upon for any sorcerer to reject a challenge. Even if that challenge would result in certain death.

Ezekiel sighed. Very well. If it is a fight he wants, then it will be a fight he gets. He planted his feet shoulder-width apart and narrowed his eyes on the sorcerer. The man was quite a few years older than him. Legendary in his skill and in manipulation of magical energy. Defeating him would not be easy. In fact, it would be impossible. It would take years—decades, even—to even begin to touch the level that Tryce stood at in terms of skill and power. Ezekiel would have to outwit the man and pray that he didn’t die in the process.

He started uttering words, moving his hands and fingers in the arcane ways, pulling the energy from around him into his solar plexus. His body started to glow with blue, pulsing energy.

Tryce prepared himself, pulling energy into his own body, moving expertly. Each rotation of a wrist or downward stroke of an arm was careful and smooth. His lips moved with his own incantations. Ezekiel knew the man saw what he was doing and that led him to switch up his tactic.

He threw a ball of fire at the man’s feet. Tryce dismissed it without so much as missing a beat in his chant.

Damn it. He saw that coming.

Tryce flicked his wrist and the ground shook beneath Ezekiel’s feet. His chanting faltered, causing him to quickly refocus to regain his momentum.

Once he had pulled enough energy into him, Ezekiel let the energy pulse from his hands straight toward the old man. Ezekiel uttered, “Infernicus,” and the beam turned to fire.

Tryce shot out a powerful force of his own, meeting Ezekiel’s about halfway between them. Steam rose from the center.

Ezekiel realized that the sorcerer met his spell with ice.

Switching it up, he uttered “Fulgur.” His fire was replaced with purple lightning, cutting through Tryce’s ice like nothing.

The sorcerer’s lips pressed into a thin line as his ice quickly changed to bluish-white lightning, causing a loud crack and burst of air where the two currents met. Men from around them staggered and fell to their knees.

Ezekiel took a hard step forward in an effort to close the gap between the two. Tryce met his movements. His arms shook from the pulse of energy, the force of the resistance, and he questioned just how smart it was to make that move. But there was no turning back now. He had to finish this. He had to try to survive this.

Step-by-step, the gap closed until they were just a few paces from each other. Sparks and light and electrical arcs flew around them, reaching out to the soldiers that stopped fighting to watch the dual between sorcerers. Ezekiel maintained his spell with great difficulty. His arms started to shake from the strain of his spell against his opponent. Sweat trickled down the side of his head, soaking the collar of his shirt while it seemed Tryce had yet to even have so much as a bead of wetness along his.

Ezekiel closed his eyes against the end he knew was coming any second. There was a shudder in the magic between them. His eyes opened.

Red dots dribbled down the sorcerer’s forehead. Ezekiel almost lost focus with the realization that Tryce struggled in their magical duel—against him. It would be easy to defeat the man in that moment, to send a spell flying toward him and quickly cutting him down. But something within Ezekiel wouldn’t allow him to. The look in Tryce’s eyes told him that he knew the same thing and just waited for him to end it and take the place of the greatest sorcerer alive.

No.

He stepped to the side, releasing the pulse of energy between them, creating a loud thunderclap. Tryce fell to his knees. Ezekiel approached the man and held out a hand to help him up. Tryce nodded once. Ezekiel did the same. Tryce faced him as he worked to catch his breath.

“You have done well,” he said. “Not many people could hold up for as long as you have or so easily withstand me as an opponent.”

Ezekiel stared at the man like he started speaking a different language. “Thank you?” He didn’t mean for it to come out like a question. But it had.

Tryce held out his hand and said, “No. Thank you, boy. You fought with honor, and where I come from, it’s something we hold in high regard. You showed me respect, and you stood your ground. You are not what Winston would have us all believe—and might I add, as a sorcerer, you are an equal.”

Ezekiel slowly took the man’s hand. He gave it a firm shake. “It’s an honor, sir.”

He smiled, released Ezekiel’s hand and walked off. Just like that. Nothing else said or done. Ezekiel continued to stare after the sorcerer long after he disappeared. He still wasn’t sure what had happened or just quite how to process everything. The last thing he thought he would ever earn was the respect of a man so revered and feared as Tryce Klatrix.