"Ye need to face the Judgment."
The Judgment. The barbarians called it Balthor's Judgment. The weapon's master had set it up as the ultimate test of power when he first began training barbarian warrior mages shortly after the end of the Phyrexian war. Over the course of several generations, the Judgment had become a rite of passage for the proud warrior race. Now no barbarian could offer or accept a challenge until he had first passed Balthor's Judgment.
"I mastered your little obstacle course years ago," countered Kamahl, still trying to steer his training away from the village. "And I think that my experiences in the pits have taught me a thing or two about strength and control."
"Aye. Ye have learned a few tricks that 1 never taught ye," admitted Balthor as he started off down the mountain pass toward the village. "But those won't help ye pass through me 'little obstacle course.' And if ye think any two trips through the Judgment are ever the same, ye need more training than I thought," he yelled over his shoulder.
The Judgment was part obstacle course and part magical battle. The apprentice had to make his way through a maze of deadly obstacles while fending off attacks by seasoned Pardic mages. As he knelt at the beginning of the course, mentally preparing for the challenges to come, Kamahl toyed with the idea of running the Judgment without his sword to avoid any undue complications from the Mirari. But Balthor was right. This would be a good test of his control and would be meaningless without the extra power that the Mirari provided him.
When Balthor's horn sounded, the barbarian mage unsheathed his sword and tossed open the gate to the course. The first section looked the same. He must navigate a series of obstacles while evading the attacks of a mage who would have the advantage of higher ground. Kamahl ran toward the twelve-foot-high wall in front of him, jumped and grabbed the top, and easily hoisted his large frame up and over the wall. He would have liked to stay on top and scan for his adversary, but he knew that would leave him too open. Better to force the mage to hit a moving target and show Kamahl which direction he should guard against.
As he hit the ground on the other side and began moving toward a stone tunnel, Kamahl heard the unmistakable shrieking whistle of an incoming missile. With no time to spot the attack, Kamahl sprinted forward and dived into the tunnel just as the fireball exploded on the ground behind him. A wave of flames and heat rolled through the tunnel, singing the barbarian's back and legs.
That's one for me, thought Kamahl. But now he was trapped. As soon as he showed himself on the other side of the tunnel, he'd be lit up like a firecat.
"Time for a diversion," said the pit veteran. Crouching on one knee in the low tunnel, Kamahl pulled his sword in front of him, tip down, and looked through the Mirari as he began his spell. Out the other side of the Mirari leaped a simple Pardic firecat, its mane a wreath of flames.
The flaming cat bounded out the far side of the stone tunnel, smoke ringlets rising from the dirt as each paw slapped the ground. Kamahl scanned the course for the telltale signs of magic. He saw the bolt of flame coming at his decoy almost before it left the mage's hands. Rolling out of the tunnel into a standing position, Kamahl whipped his sword around and flung a lightning beam from its tip at the stone tower where the first Judgment mage stood.
Just after the flame bolt incinerated Kamahl's diversionary firecat, his beam of crackling lightning slammed into the base of the tower. The beam tore a huge hole through the stone structure, toppling it and sending the short, screaming, red-haired mage flying into the dirt outside the course. Never looking back, Kamahl turned and dashed through the rest of the first section before Balthor could recover.
As he vaulted over the last low wall, Kamahl could see the gate to the second section off to the left. This was different from his last time through the Judgment. During that run he had exited the obstacle course to the right. Kamahl didn't know what to expect, so he approached the gate with caution.
It seemed simple enough-an open slope rising up the face of the mountain, strewn with giant boulders to obstruct vision.
"Apparently, the next mage hides somewhere within this maze of rocks," mused Kamahl. "A foolish man would run from rock to rock seeking cover from his assailant. 1 shall pick and choose my route more carefully."
But when the huge barbarian stepped into the field of rocks, he quickly and forcefully learned the error of his assumptions. A stream of lightning bolts cascaded down through the rock maze, bouncing from boulder to boulder like the metal balls in a peg game Chainer had once shown him. Lightning soon filled the entire field, slamming Kamahl in the chest and knocking him into the nearest boulder, where the magnetic web of electricity held him tight.
Hardly able to draw a breath for the pain pounding in his chest, Kamahl reached deep inside himself to center his mind and body and find the strength to lift his sword up over his head. With lightning dancing across his biceps, the barbarian's massive forearms bulged as he drove the blade deep into the slab of granite behind him. When the blade entered the rock, the electricity coursing over and through the barbarian's body flowed through his arms, across the Mirari, and down through the blade into huge rock.
Free from the magnetic forces that had held him captive, Kamahl dived to the ground just as the boulder exploded behind him, disintegrating into a fine dust that fell like snow over the barbarian's prone body. With his ears ringing and blood trickling down his neck from his mouth and nose, Kamahl pulled himself back to his feet and looked for his sword. Hearing the unmistakable crackling sound of another lightning waterfall charging down the field of boulders, Kamahl grabbed his sword from the ground and lurched up the hill to take the place of the destroyed boulder.
As the lightning cascade came toward him, Kamahl cast a spell on his sword and held it in both hands, pommel up, in front of him. Acting like a lightning rod, the sword drew power into itself from the electricity flowing down the field. When the Mirari glowed bright white, Kamahl spoke the words for a second spell and plunged the sword into the ground. The electricity from the cascade flowed through the sword into the ground and reversed direction back up the slope, making the ground tremble as the energy coursed through it.
When the redirected current hit the first boulder, a large crack formed and spread to the top of the large slab, branching over and over again as it grew until the entire surface was covered in a web of cracks, and the boulder fell into a pile of rubble. The trembling current continued on and pulverized boulder after boulder until at last the entire field was strewn in mounds of pebbles and rocks.
Kamahl pulled his sword out of the ground and pointed it at the mage he could now see standing at the top of the hill. Although he could not see die man's face well enough to even identify him, Kamahl was certain his display of power had cowed his opponent.
"Although you have drawn first blood, you have lost this round my worthy opponent!" shouted the dirty, bloody barbarian. "Yield the field with honor or face the wrath of my blade."
After only a moment of looking at the rubble caused by the man who by all rights should have been unconscious on the ground, the distant mage bowed low and walked off the top of the hill. Kamahl dusted himself off and wiped the blood from his face before once again walking slowly and deliberately up the hill to face the next challenge.
At the top of the hill, a path wound on up the mountain to a crevasse spanned by a swaying bridge. This must be the third test, thought Kamahl, as he peered across the long rope-and-plank bridge, searching for signs of the mage who would surely battle him as he tried to cross. Kamahl longed for Emerald, the sure-footed gecko he'd ridden from the Krosan forest to the sea while chasing Laquatas.