"The world? One has a narrow view of ultimate goals if one thinks the world is the best thing to be gleaned by study in the arcane arts." The archmage purred hungrily. "Perhaps ye prefer a more comfortable seat to rest ye frame, wizard, aye?" He gestured towards the hearth, almost inviting, but for the look of pure malevolence in his flaming eyes.
Corwin straightened in the doorway, holding his staff between the two of them with one hand, his other slipping his 'contingency plan' free of its holster beneath his robes - careful to keep his body shielding it from sight. "I would, yes," he said calmly. "And I find the most comfortable seat to be the one furthest away from you." He took a sudden, deliberate step to the side, breaking line of sight with the archmage, and took off like a rabbit across the porch, feet flying quick and sure even over the snow and ice. He moved surprisingly quickly for a student of the mystic arts, but it was for just such reasons as this that he kept in shape with morning calisthenics and daily jogs through the West End.
Behind him, the archmage reached into one of the many pouches on his belt and withdrew a black orb. He murmured something in the tongues of magic, then held his hand out. "Seek... Vestige Arcanus." The orb shimmered, became blacker than black, like a hole ripped in the very fabric of the universe; it rose from his hand and hovered in the air for a moment before zipping off in pursuit of the fleeing wizard.
As he ran, Corwin spun counterspells with desperate speed, every one he knew and a few he made up on the spot, fear giving his natural skill and intelligence wings. He probably made more advances in magical theory in those frantic five minutes than he had in the year prior, though damned if he could remember any of them later.
He had covered over a mile in his frantic sprint before he finally slowed to a stop, panting. No sign of pursuit - it wouldn't have been quiet, in any case. He figured the archmage for the fireball and lightning bolt sort, wreaking havoc on anything that dared get in his way. As soon as he caught his breath, Corwin began weaving his transport spell, eager to return to his safe, warm, and most important of all, heavily warded home.
The sphere streaked out of the night like a bolt of pure darkness, homing in unerringly on the young wizard. His counterspells had slowed it - it moved at a fast walking speed now, rather than at bullet velocity. It gave him enough time to recognize it and react, rather than being instantly wiped from the face of the universe.
Terror and disbelief twisted his face in an expression almost comical as he leapt back, reaching by instinct for his 'contingency plan'. "You have got to be kidding me! C'mon!" He twisted as he jumped, the words to his spell almost jumbling - the orb speeding closer - his hand clearing his robes, the short rod leaving his fingers in a spinning toss -
Rod met orb, and the universe exploded.
Sphere of Annihilation, meet Corwin's backup plan - his newest creation, a multi-purpose rod whose properties, most importantly at the moment, include Cancellation.
Water and lithium, nitric acid and glycerin, bleach and ammonia - Rod and Sphere. The explosion rocked the square, shattering windows, splintering cobblestones. Corwin was flung backwards, light flaring around his body as the mage shield he'd cast by instinct fought to ward him from the blow, cracking and splintering as it was overwhelmed by the fury of the blast. Flames licked through, barely reflected by his protective robes.... and then he was down, tumbling, spinning, losing his grip on his staff in the process.
It took him a moment to realize that he was still alive. He raised his head and surveyed the scene - a massive scorch mark in the center of the cobbles, dogs barking and car alarms sounding somewhere deeper in town. His ears rang, his head ached... but he was still alive.
He struggled to keep from laughing in sheer, exhilarated delight as he scrambled to his feet, located his staff, and spat out the quick, sharp words that would take him home. It wasn't until he was safely ensconced in his laboratory, shields and protective wards raised, that the shaking started.
Corwin straightened in the doorway, holding his staff between the two of them with one hand, his other slipping his 'contingency plan' free of its holster beneath his robes - careful to keep his body shielding it from sight. "I would, yes," he said calmly. "And I find the most comfortable seat to be the one furthest away from you." He took a sudden, deliberate step to the side, breaking line of sight with the archmage, and took off like a rabbit across the porch, feet flying quick and sure even over the snow and ice. He moved surprisingly quickly for a student of the mystic arts, but it was for just such reasons as this that he kept in shape with morning calisthenics and daily jogs through the West End.
Behind him, the archmage reached into one of the many pouches on his belt and withdrew a black orb. He murmured something in the tongues of magic, then held his hand out. "Seek... Vestige Arcanus." The orb shimmered, became blacker than black, like a hole ripped in the very fabric of the universe; it rose from his hand and hovered in the air for a moment before zipping off in pursuit of the fleeing wizard.
As he ran, Corwin spun counterspells with desperate speed, every one he knew and a few he made up on the spot, fear giving his natural skill and intelligence wings. He probably made more advances in magical theory in those frantic five minutes than he had in the year prior, though damned if he could remember any of them later.
He had covered over a mile in his frantic sprint before he finally slowed to a stop, panting. No sign of pursuit - it wouldn't have been quiet, in any case. He figured the archmage for the fireball and lightning bolt sort, wreaking havoc on anything that dared get in his way. As soon as he caught his breath, Corwin began weaving his transport spell, eager to return to his safe, warm, and most important of all, heavily warded home.
The sphere streaked out of the night like a bolt of pure darkness, homing in unerringly on the young wizard. His counterspells had slowed it - it moved at a fast walking speed now, rather than at bullet velocity. It gave him enough time to recognize it and react, rather than being instantly wiped from the face of the universe.
Terror and disbelief twisted his face in an expression almost comical as he leapt back, reaching by instinct for his 'contingency plan'. "You have got to be kidding me! C'mon!" He twisted as he jumped, the words to his spell almost jumbling - the orb speeding closer - his hand clearing his robes, the short rod leaving his fingers in a spinning toss -
Rod met orb, and the universe exploded.
Sphere of Annihilation, meet Corwin's backup plan - his newest creation, a multi-purpose rod whose properties, most importantly at the moment, include Cancellation.
Water and lithium, nitric acid and glycerin, bleach and ammonia - Rod and Sphere. The explosion rocked the square, shattering windows, splintering cobblestones. Corwin was flung backwards, light flaring around his body as the mage shield he'd cast by instinct fought to ward him from the blow, cracking and splintering as it was overwhelmed by the fury of the blast. Flames licked through, barely reflected by his protective robes.... and then he was down, tumbling, spinning, losing his grip on his staff in the process.
It took him a moment to realize that he was still alive. He raised his head and surveyed the scene - a massive scorch mark in the center of the cobbles, dogs barking and car alarms sounding somewhere deeper in town. His ears rang, his head ached... but he was still alive.
He struggled to keep from laughing in sheer, exhilarated delight as he scrambled to his feet, located his staff, and spat out the quick, sharp words that would take him home. It wasn't until he was safely ensconced in his laboratory, shields and protective wards raised, that the shaking started.