Thalia

The Wizard’s Ball happened once in a lifetime. Well, once in a wizard’s lifetime. Thalia, had never dreamed that she would attend the Andaryn Wizard’s Ball when she first took up the Order. Yet here she stood at the entryway, courtesy of old Maldric Thunderguts finally shuffling off his mortal coil.

Thalia handed her invitation to the doorman who scanned it briefly, bowing as he returned it. Thalia entered the room, gliding swiftly to the side of the ballroom where she could watch the room. Her parents, some of the wealthiest spice merchants this side of the Bight, would be aghast at her close fitting, dun colored robe, not to mention her movement to the wings. Wealthy merchant’s daughters were expected to wear garish, poofing, cascading garments as they strode into the center of attention. She allowed herself a brief smile of amusement.

Drifting about the edges of the ball, she turned down several invitations to dance (sorceresses were very poorly represented at the ball), but not before evaluating each one of the wizards who asked her. Perhaps it was in poor taste, but considering that either they would be dead at her hands, or her at theirs (preferably the former) tomorrow, she figured it didn’t truly matter.

However, when Prince Taeling approached her, she knew he would not so easily be put off. She cursed under breath about the exception made for the royal family.

“Hello Milady,” said the prince quietly as he approached her.

“I am no lady, your highness.”

“If memory serves, you are Thalia, eldest daughter of the newly appointed Baron Rathgore. So while technically you are of the Order, I believe that your family titles still apply.”

“Forgive me, your highness, for contradicting you,” Thalia said as she curtsied.

“Please, don’t. You will either be dead tomorrow or our court mage and either way, I’d prefer to eliminate the false courtesies.”

Thalia laughed from deep in her belly and smiled at the prince. “Well, if that is a command…”

“It is indeed. Now, would you like to dance?”

“May I promise you the first dance at the next ball we attend together?”

The prince’s smile faltered and rather than indignant, he actually appeared hurt.

“I am sorry, my prince. It is important to me tonight to evaluate my competition and not attract attention to myself. I need every advantage I can get for tomorrow.”

The prince smiled, “Of course, although I have heard your magic is quite strong.”

“It is quite subtle, which is much different. I have nowhere near the power of Rudolfus,” Thalia said, naming the favorite for the morrow’s tournament.”

“Well then, I will hold you to your promise,” said the Prince, bowing to kiss the hand she extended. “I mean that. I expect you to be the winner at the next ball so I may have that dance.”

“I am at your command, my highness.”

Every wizard and sorceress entered from a door set equidistantly around the great arena. Some appeared incredibly tense, others wore a mask of calm. A few were muttering incantations already, not necessarily illegal as no spells were being actively cast, but generally considered bad form.

The prince noticed the woman he had seen from the previous night’s ball standing serenely in front of her door. As the countdown began by the banging of giant bronze gongs hung at the four cardinal directions (North followed by South, then East, and finally West) the wizards started moving forward. Like fighters they seemed intent on moving forward to control the space. He spared a glance for the woman, Thalia, and…couldn’t find her.

Invisibility? No, it takes too much of a toll and leaves the wizard vulnerable when they can no longer maintain the illusion. What then? He did not have time to think more as the simultaneous ringing of all 4 gongs signalled the start of the event. While Prince Taeling had heard what to expect, he still was not prepared for the sheer blinding surge of raw power that was unleashed in the arena. Nearly half of the aspirants simply ceased to be.

As the initial explosion of light and might receded, individual battles developed, sometimes one wizard versus another or perhaps two temporarily allied wizards combining forces to defeat a stronger wizard. and then the prince finally spotted Thalia. He looked back to the door that Thalia had emerged from and tried to find her footprints in the sand of the arena floor. And there she stood, directly in front of her door. She was making subtle movements with her hands, but there were no flames, lightning or other forms of death-inducing energy emanating from her.

Scanning the arena, the prince noticed that the most powerful of the wizards were slowly sinking into the sand, their feet rooting in place. While this was not, in and of itself, damaging to the wizards, the inability to move their legs as part of their spellcasting, clearly impaired them, making many of them obvious targets for Rudolfus.

Soon, only Rudolfus and Thalia remained. Rudolfus evidently had no problem seeing Thalia as he smiled maliciously at her. Whatever had been obscuring her instantly ceased, as she seemed to put all of her effort into something else. Rudolfus smiled in amusement as his feet slipped below the surface of the sand, while Thalia appeared to be weaving a spell of protection against Rudolfus.

“Use all the parlor tricks and shielding spells you want, merchant girl. You will never match my power,” and with the word power he unleashed an incredible stream of liquid fire that mere inches from Thalia’s head curved in a perfect U and struck Rudolfus full in the chest.

Thalia approached the wizard, who despite his glowing molten chest, was still alive and writhing in pain. Thalia stood over him and looked down at the broken hulk of a human being before her. The first thing that Taeling noticed was that Rudolfus stopped writhing. He seemed pinned to the ground. Then, in the silence of the arena, a distinct series of popping noises could be heard, which at first were hard to place, but with a final loud snap, the wizard’s chest imploded and he ceased to live.

A cheer went up from the crowd.