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Chapter 2: Dance With The Devil

"Trembling, crawling across my skin.
Feeling your cold dead eyes, stealing the life of mine.

I believe in you, I can show you that
I can see right through all your empty lies.
I won't last long, in this world so wrong.

Say goodbye, as we dance with the devil tonight.
Don't you dare look at him in the eye, as we dance with the devil tonight."

- Breaking Benjamin

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The cell was dark, even at this time of day. The sun coming through the narrow slots in the stone wall did nothing to improve they dismal and hopeless mood he was certain the designers purposely imbued into the building.

It was the ninth day in this cell and the fifth day since the trial, which he wasn't included in, that ultimately decided his demise. He was sure it didn't take long to convince them his death was warranted.

So, he was scheduled to be moved in twelve days to the place of his execution, meaning he would be moved in seven days to prevent an ambush by the members of the Reapers.

Not that there were enough left to plan an ambush, mind you, but they were crafty.

So, he waited. Nothing else he could do. However, the longer he waited in their cage, he could feel himself getting weaker.

He'd need enough blood to drown a village after this.

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After checking the rounds in the magazine, he returned it to the pistol, ignoring the curious glances of the people waiting to watch the fight.

Pulling the slide back, he chambered a round and tucked it behind his back. With the revolver, he thumbed the latch for the original loading mechanism and spun the cylinder, making sure all the primer caps were fine. This one, he tucked into the front of his belt.

He didn't bother checking the .22, but picked up the rusty blade as he walked through the crowd.

"One moment," Osmand said, reaching out to stop him.

He glanced toward Morgan who was already in her place at the field, "I think it would be wise for you to use discretion with those weapons of yours. Last thing we need is an accident."

Romero nodded, "I hadn't planned killing her. I mean it's not a fight to the death or anything."

Osmand hesitated before he walked away, "No, of course it isn't."

'That was very convincing.'

Julia stood on his end of the field with her arms crossed, weighing the chances he'd survive.

Romero started onto the dirt, stopping in front of her, "Alright, master. Tell me what I'm up against."

She looked to where Morgan was waiting, her gaze effectively passing on the hatred she felt.

"Morgan Montressor, as much as I hate to admit it, is a skilled magician, and unlike most others of nobility, is as good with her hands as she is her wand."

He nodded, "Talented, got it."

"Also," she continued, "Her family ancestry are remnants of the Witch-Blood clan, so you can expect some form of Necromancy."

"Zombies, got it."

"Pay attention, this is nothing to joke about."

"Come on," he said, "It's just a fight, the old guy'll be watching."

"Osmand isn't gonna turn away a chance to see a Gandalfr fight at it's fullest," she replied, pointing to where he was taking money from some of the students.

"Is he taking bets?"

She nodded, "Are you completely sure you want to do this?"

Romero shrugged, adjusting to the weight of the blade, "Are you gonna command me to back out?"

Julia sighed, "Of course not."

He nodded and walked onto the field, "Good, I'm not the greatest with orders."

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He strained against the bars, only inches away from reaching his blade.

The guard was passed out in his chair, his snoring blocking the sound of his failed attempts.

"Damn it," he said, giving up on this escape.

Pacing his cell, he contemplated what else he could attempt. He could survive on his own blood for the next three days, but it would take a lot of concentration to keep from bleeding himself dry. The past days without filled his chest with hunger.

Were he not so weak, escape would be simple.

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For the third time, Romero felt himself lift from the ground and slam into the brick wall.

He struggled to his feet and ran to keep from being thrown again.

Morgan saw his plan and with a wave of her wand stopped him in his tracks. The pillars rose from the ground at random angles, narrowly missing their target.

He was unable to dodge it and instead collided into the rock formation.

"What next? Fire? A flood maybe?" she laughed, arrogant by her position, "How about this?"

Romero forced himself around the pillar, watching his enemy.

She knelt on one knee and stabbed her wand into the ground, causing the pillars to crumble.

He avoided as much of the debris as he could, being sure to keep an eye on her.

Amid the rumble, hands began sprouting from the ground, the decrepit bodies they belonged to following shortly after.

"She's using Necromancy!" several of the first years yelled, stepping back to avoid becoming a target.

Julia's hands were gripped into fists, fearing that her familiar might actually die. She could tell by looking that he was caught off guard. His arm was limp, futilely waving the blade in front of him to keep the Morte from overtaking him.

If he really was a Gandalfr, he wasn't showing it.

Realizing he couldn't keep running, he turned and readied himself as the dead approached him.

Once in striking distance, he swung downward, the blade tearing through the rotting flesh and embedding itself in it's grabbed the hilt with both hands and pulled it back and forth, but the blade wouldn't budge. While he tried to free his weapon, the creature snarled and tore at his clothing, leaving a large gash across his chest.

"To hell with this," he said, giving up on his decision to use only the blade.

He reached for the pistol in his back and pressed it against it's skull and pulled the trigger, causing it to turn to dust.

Stumbling sideways from lack of energy, he stabbed the blade into the ground and fell to one knee. He blinked and looked down, knowing he felt it. As he stabbed the blade into the ground, he felt it grow hotter.

Morgan let a small amount of her surprise show, not worrying since there were still zombies approaching him. With the three standing guard around her, she knew she'd won.

His shooting hand was wobbling, causing him to miss his targets.

"I need to rest a minute."

"Tired already? Well, I'm still full of Willpower!"

Morgan aimed her wand at him, making sure she wouldn't miss. Though full of energy, this shot would take a lot of it.

"Learn your place!"

He felt the air shift. That's how he knew what was coming.

He could taste the salt of the water before it appeared, and felt the warmth of the fire. That's when he knew something was happening. His senses were increasing, becoming more sharpened and he could feel his strength slowly return.

However, it wasn't coming back in time.

The torrent of water pervaded the spiraling wall of flame that surrounded it as they rumbled toward him, their movements leaving him no where to run.

His heartbeat intensified, believing this was his final moment.

The chatter of the crowd amplified, the praise of her superior skills echoing in his head. Moments before striking, they halted, crashing against a barrier that appeared an instant before impact. Morgan held it as long as she could, but inevitably ceased the barrage.

Julia fell to her knees at the edge of the field, short of breath from the sudden loss of willpower.

Morgan growled, "Stay out of this!"

"Make it count," Julia yelled to him, "That's all you'll get."

Romero nodded and stood, "That's all I'll need."

That moment of rest was enough regain his spent energy. Pulling the blade from the ground, he picked up the pistol and cracked his neck.

'I don't know how I know this, but I can defeat her.'

His mind echoed with the instructions, several voices fighting each other for control when all at once they said in unison, "Fight."

He sprinted forward, his speed rapidly growing faster, and faster until it was near superhuman level. Charging the zombies that had been enraptured by their summoner's last attack, he swung the blade as he passed, no longer fearing it getting stuck.

Her wand followed him, fighting to stay focused enough to immobilize him.

Now she was getting scared.

She felt too much relief when she managed to grab him and pull him into the air. As he raised into the air, he fumbled for his blade, unable to grab it.

"I'll have to keep you up there until I figure out what to do with you."

He struggled against the lack of gravity, deciding which voice to listen to.

Flailing his arms, he built enough momentum to begin spinning, rapidly growing faster to the point that he began to pull her towards him.

Morgan leaned backwards, her feet sliding on the ground as she continued to be pulled forward, losing the strength to hold steady. When she was close enough, he stopped and aimed away from her, the revolver in his hand. His vision tumbled, but he used the form of the building to aim and fired once.

The force of the high caliber shot mixed with her no gravity hold, sent him backwards.

Roger, who had been calmly spectating the fight he caused began to laugh, starting with a chuckle and slowly progressing into an outburst.

He knew the battle was nearing it's end and his plan had worked flawlessly. Romero fired again, continuing to do so until his velocity was doubling by he second.

Morgan didn't know what to do. Her anger had caused her to visualize her victory but now she was confused, struggling to decide her next move.

If she held the spell and kept him in low gravity, they would collide. If she let him go, he would-

It was too late. He slammed into her hard enough to send her tumbling backwards. He had planned the attack, so he was on guard enough to land on his feet. Morgan sat up several feet away, rubbing the aching part of her 's when she seen her wand in front of him. He followed her gaze and quickly grabbed it, aiming it against it's owner.

She chuckled, "You think you can use my own wand against me?"

He looked at the foreign object in his hand. He didn't know how to use it, but the voices did.

The remaining zombies she had summoned now looked between Morgan and Romero, unsure of who their master was.

"Why don't you just drop it? It's of no use to you."

He looked to where his runes were glowing, and listened to the voice, "Sandstorm."

The rust colored dirt of their battle ground shifted as a swirling tempest of sand rose up, circling the unarmed Morgan.

Colbert forced his way through the crowd, stopping beside Julia.

"Miss Monterey, what else can you tell me of this strange object?!" he asked, raising the bullet she'd given him.

Her face never left the battleground, the astonishment prevalent. Colbert looked to where the fight was raging and his face adopted the astonishment she showed.

"Fire."

The sandstorm became engulfed in flames, raging for several moments before disappearing, leaving her encased in glass. Cheers and yells were taken up by the crowd as the celebration began.

"Let me out of here! This is not over!" Morgan yelled, pounding on the glass.

She looked up. It was too tall to jump out of and too slick to climb. She was trapped.

Her senses picked up the movement before the sound.

The zombies were also trapped with her, and they'd made their choice against their master.

"Help! Get me out of here!"

Romero blinked himself back into control and seen what was happening. He raised the wand and tried to blast away the glass but nothing happened.

Thinking quickly, he raised the revolver and pulled the trigger.

Click, click, click.

"Uh-oh."

"Without her wand, she's gonna be torn apart!"

"How're they gonna get her out?!"

Romero quickly snapped the cylinder open, ejecting the empty rounds into the air while checking his pockets for more. Running out of options, he pulled out the pistol. Firing twice only proved to leave small indentations in the glass.

"Hurry up, idiot!" Morgan yelled, "I can't run in circles forever!"

Colbert realized the function of the object and called out, "Gandalfr!"

Romero looked backwards and seen him toss the bullet to him and everything seemed to slow down. He slammed the new bullet into the cylinder as Morgan tripped and fell into the glass hard enough to blur her vision.

He fired the revolver, it's bullet strong enough to weaken the glass substantially, sending a large crack toward the ground.

Sprinting forward, he fired the remained shots from the semi-automatic, their bullets more effective now, causing the cracks to spider web outward.

He tossed the empty weapon aside and continued. Lowering his head and turning away, he broke through the wall, causing the rest of the enclosure to break into small pieces.

Morgan had returned to her feet and braced herself, expecting the next thing she felt to be claws tearing her skin apart.

Instead, Romero pulled her close to him, using his embrace to shelter her from the falling glass. She looked up to see him, wincing as several shards found their way into his back. Turning her head enough to stay covered but see behind her showed the zombies having less luck than before.

The glass had taken care of them, the fragments long enough to pierce their skull, returning them to the dirt they were summoned from.

The clinking of glass ceased and they were left standing in the center.

"Uh, you can let go now."

Romero chuckled weakly, "I think I'll fall over if I do."

Even so, he tried, following the swaying he felt instead of fighting it. He turned and started back to pick up his weapons.

"So," Osmand called out, "Who is the victor."

Everyone knew the answer, but waited to see if there was any dispute.

Morgan looked from the sharp needles of glass around her, to the blood trail leading to where Romero was struggling to lean over and pick up his pistol, ultimately letting Julia hand it to him.

At length she sighed, knowing she owed him her life, "I submit."

Osmand nodded, "Then we have our victor! Romero the familiar!"

Amid the cheering, Pierre picked up the wand with his teeth and walked to where his master stood, watching their rivals celebrate.

"No, I'm fine," knowing what he was thinking, letting a small smile crawl onto her face, "Thanks to him."

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"Hey, wake up."

The guard yawned himself awake, "Yeah?"

"I'm your relief."

He nodded, "Alright."

As he rose from the chair, he stretched, his armor clanking as he did so.

"Miss anything?"

The new guard took his chair and nodded, "Fight over at the academy. They say the new Gandalfr fought a student."

The prisoner's eyes snapped open and looked in their direction.

"Bullshit," the guard replied while rubbing his eyes, "It's just rumors."

The new guard shook his head, "I seen the flames myself. They were so tall I seen them out front. There's no way a normal student could conjure something like that."

The prisoner burst into laughter, the sound echoing in the small room.

"Hey, shut up in there!"

He quieted down, only to return.

"So, there's a new Gandalfr, eh?"

"That's right, you've been in there awhile."

The new guard nodded, "Pretty soon there won't be a trace left of you terrorists."

"We shall see," was all he said, "We shall see."


Well, that was longer than I'd planned. Once I started it just kept going.

Anyway, that's it for this one. Showed a lot of the original aspects I plan to bring to this story.

Alright, thanks for reading. If you noticed something punctuation wise that I missed, let me know and I'll fix it. In return, you'll get one of my famous theoretical cookies.

You stay classy, San Diego.