Broken - 13

Magic, although varied such that each branch could be researched thousands of times and could be said to obtain thousands of more branches. There was one fundamental differentiation that each spell either had or lacked.

A grimace pulled the edges of my lips into a low growl. Teeth bared against the frost summoned by a mere grasp of my will. For I had torn the particles within the air. Water.

It was as simple as such…

Manifestation. The use of circles and other such shapes, as an aside, there were many shapes that had been tried. But the circle was the most stable of such. For the infinite points within gave it infinite possibilities for both destruction and for stability.

However there was a lesser known branch. For Manifestation was the standard, the golden egg of magic. As each circle, no matter how similar they were, could be written upon a formula. They could be transcribed into dozens of different runic languages that each contained their own syntax and complexity.

By doing such a process, the caster of the spell would grow more and more familiar with the spell. And maybe… maybe one day that spell would bloom into something more. As such it was generally accepted that Manifestation was the greatest of spells.

Barely anyone even knew the second type. Esoteric yet equally as powerful and relevant. Displacement. Using the force of mana, that tiny push and pull of mana on the real world. One could manipulate the strings of reality, and like some symphony, could create wonders.

However there was a reason Displacement was not used. For even the most talented of mages could not use this. The reason that they were even called talented was because of that intuition of theirs.

On how and when to use their mana, how to intuitively activate and translate a Manifestation into some language.

However Displacement took true rigor to understand. It took a direct understanding of the world. For one must experiment a thousand times, correlate, find data. They must do all that just to make a simple flame.

To do more, accelerate, freeze, heat. All things that were simple for Manifestation, these were fundamentals that would take years for one to even start to use.

It leaves the simple question of why? Why would I, or anyone for that matter, use Displacement when Manifestation was just objectively better.

Sparks clashed as I twirled the spear like a baton, hurling spears of ice against my Sariel. She merely dodged, creating winds that manipulated the circles within the air. The runes, transcribed meticulously among their parts. Scattered to the wind.

That was the reason. For with Manifestation came an opposite practice. Where those with a keen eye could decipher your magic and turn it against you.

Though that was on the extreme side, however most - competent mages at that - would be able to at the very least disrupt the Manifestation of power.

And so another practice was gone, now to the encoding of magic. To make sure that each symbol could be transcribed through a language or code that another would not be able to decipher.

However Displacement.

I waved my arm amongst the air. Feeling the droplets of water that had been Manifested, despite the dispelling of my circles.

I closed my fist, and with it the force that pushed the droplets of water. My mana crushed it ruthlessly, leaving only non-movement. 

Ice formed within the air, blooming like flowers that I manipulated. Turning them into skewers that were once more sent at Sariel.

The first volley, using magic circles, was a mere veil. Testing the capabilities of Sariel. For if she could not dispel my circles then I would not have resorted to such.

However, because she could. I turned to the one source that was almost impossible to dispel. Not in a reasonable time at least.

A smirk grazed my features as I snuck behind her, a push of my own mana accelerating my body past human means. A twirl of the spear that brought a cut to her back.

Crimson liquid that fell to the ground. Only to be caught mid-air. I was forced back as she muttered a small sentence, an utterance so low that I could not comprehend the words.

Time seemed to spill into droplets of hurried seconds. Each passing by in a flash that took every ounce of my instincts to dodge.

For my mind could not react fast enough. The blood that had been spilled. It was shaped into a dagger-like form. Sent flying with a gentle push, one that hurled it past my forehead - all the while drawing blood - and when her blood ran dry.

She turned. A smile on those lips of hers.

"Aia. A self-proclaimed detective."

"Sariel. I know not your intentions. However there will be justice."

Neither she nor I believed my words, empty platitudes I had said many time. The first part - not so much - but the latter half. I had uttered those words hundreds of times.

Before a rain of crimson blood swallowed their lives. Whether that was in the moment… or later, after they had been hanged by the imperious order of another.

It mattered not. For the time in between those gazes of ours spread ten fold. Only to abruptly stop.

Her hand unfurled into a sort of dagger like composition. A current of rushed air splayed against the tips of her fingers.

'Deadly!'

I yelled within my mind. Turning my attention from her to the weapon that she now held. It was obvious that this was Displacement. A battle of wills and strategic knowledge. 

Yet just as she had raised that hand, poised to stab, I disappeared. Only within her eyes. For the rain that had resulted from the dispelled spells of mine.

They had formed an illusion of light that tricked her eyes into seeing that which was not there.

Only I knew it would not last as with a flick of her finger several circles of magic appeared within the air. Desperately I analyzed them for flaws.

But I was not fast enough. Though most had been dispelled, not all had been. So I was forced even further back, the spear in my hand twirling and cutting the trails of petals that had been summoned.

I just could not… could not fathom what her real magic was.