On Hard Stone

They walked through time.

“What is it exactly that you have against me?” Gail asked, struggling to keep up with Master Zulok, his light brown hair already matted with sweat.

“Don’t you remember?” Zulok asked, mockingly. They were walking down an infinite corridor of time that Zulok had accessed via his magical powers.

“Honestly, no...” Gail confessed, truly ignorant as to why his former Master had summoned him.

“Come... it happened when I was still training you,” Zulok hinted, his dark blue cloak swishing over the borders of the corridor, rippling the walls of time. He purposefully resembled, as he always had, a classical magician of old.

Gail tried to recall anything that could have led Zulok to bear a grudge. After a few seconds, Zulok said, “You really can’t remember?”

“No,” Gail grunted, trailing beside the powerful magician.

Zulok stopped. “Is it possible for you to still believe I don’t know that you sole my life orbs?” Gail’s jaw dropped. “But I do, and always have,” Zulok announced. “Since back during the Final World War, maybe a year or so before the nuclear breakout.”

“I remember when it was... I just thought I’d been so careful, so methodical... when, how, did you find out?”

“The day after you stole them,” Zulok grinned, again in a self-conscious, self-indulgent way. “I decided to let it slip, since after the breakout over half the world’s population had been wiped away and I had to set about help reconstruct the world with my magic.”

“But now, all these years later...” Gail muttered, shivering. He had broken into the Master’s quarters when he wasn’t there, stolen the life orbs and left as quickly as possible; he had used the little magic he knew to cover his tracks but it seemed now even that hadn’t been enough.

“Yes, all these years later, the world is finally gaining a new shape. Every day new magicians are born, and I am here to do battle with you, Gail,” Zulok said, his grin fading.

“Battle? But... I can give you the life orbs back, I still have 3 of them! It’s obvious that I stand no match against you, Master Zulok, I -”

“Enough,” Zulok interrupted abruptly. “I am ordering you to fight with me. To the death. And if you refuse, I shall kill you now.”

Gail was lost for words; he was about to confront the most renowned sorcerer on the planet and he didn’t know what to say.

“Ok then,” he sighed, stepping forward, accepting a challenge that he knew he could not win.

“Good,” Zulok said. “If I kill you, I will finally avenge myself for the orbs you stole. If you win... well, you will have a good story to tell.”

Gail bobbed along beside him, preparing himself for the battle. They walked in silence across the time corridor. At long last, Zulok stopped. With a wave of his hand a dozen panels popped up over the walls of the corridor. Each revealed slowly panning pictures of places around the world. Gail noticed an Egyptian desert, a small sandy island and obviously deserted locales like these. Also among the selection were historical sites; the Taj-Mahal, the Eiffel Tower.

“Make your pick,” Zulok pronounced gravely.

“Of what?”

“Of where we shall fight.”

Gail frowned and studied the panels. After a short scan, he said, “I want to kill you on the Great Wall of China.”

“Excellent choice,” Zulok said, and pressed the panel Gail had chosen with his index finger. In a bright flash of multi-colored light they both found themselves standing on the Great Wall.

Sun. Instantly, sun battered their faces and covered them in heat.

“What now?” Gail asked, squinting from the sudden transition. He had never been on the Great Wall; it was truly a magnificent sight, from what he could see. There were few people around, tourists, not many. The Great Wall of China was one of the few monuments that had remained intact by the nuclear war.

“Wait,” Zulok said, trailing off into silence as he scanned the area.”You have picked well, like I said before. Now, we are to choose weapons.”

“What do you mean?” Gail was confused. “Aren’t we going to fight with magic?”

“You know that would be unfair since I am the greatest magician alive,” Zulok snorted. That very moment, a squat, bald man who had been walking past was stopped dead in his tracks; he gasped aloud and turned to face the magician.

“What? You’re Zulok Gant?” and his accent was clearly british.

“Yes,” Zulok sighed, unimpressed.

“Good gracious, this is a surprise! I’ve always wanted to compliment you on your work with the british cities, they look almost exactly like they did before!” the man started, waving his hands in the air to showcase his enthusiasm.

“Yes yes, thank you, now-”

“And Scotland! Oh gosh, that really is a sight to see... just to think you rebuilt the whole thing from scratch.”

Zulok grinned, sheepishly, “Well... almost from scratch.”

The bald man shook Zulok’s hand and bid him farewell. Once again, Zulok became serious and turned to face his opponent. “Now... do you have any preferences? I have the list here,” Zulok searched in his robes for a small, crumpled piece of paper. Gail read the list.

“For how long have you been planning this...?” he muttered, picking out the ideal arsenal.

“A couple of years... anyway, 4 weapons, choose only 4 weapons,” Zulok warned. He waited for Gail to finish his selection.

“Ok, I’m done,” Gail said, looking up from the list.

Immediately, out of nowhere: an M16 rifle, a .45 handgun, a set of two short daggers and a long sword medieval style. It all jumped out of a bright flash of light and landed neatly in front of him on the rocky surface of the Wall.
The closest tourists, at the sight of the weapons, began to get noticeably edgy. Everyone started moving away from the odd duo.

“Wise choices, Gail, wise choices... at least if you kill me I know I will have been successful in your training,” Zulok said, as Gail equipped his weapons.

To his relief, the guns already came with holsters so he fastened the .45 around his waist and the M16 vertically across his back. The sword came with a scabbard, so he also attached it to his waist. He put the daggers away, one in each boot.

When Gail turned his attention back to Zulok, Zulok was fully-equipped and ready.

“That was quick...” Gail noticed, uneasily. He knew the moment was near.
“Yes,” Zulok replied quietly. “On the count of 3?”

At this point, the section of wall they were standing on was completely bare; everyone was grouping on either side and on other segments. Some were hiding in the small towers lining the Wall, marking its breaches, waiting for something to happen. They sensed something was going to happen.

“On the count of 3,” Gail confirmed. He could make out a pack of grenades drooping from Zulok’s waist plus a shiny metal sword like his. Also, Zulok was holding in his right hand a wideshot shotgun and an HK-5, standard issue, in his left. Heavy weaponry, Gail noted wryly. Why had chosen the daggers instead of a missile-launcher?

And before he knew it, “3,” Zulok screeched.

It had begun.

Like lightening, Zulok began firing the HK-5. The bullets shot fast at an even faster rate. The innocent people crouching or standing behind Gail were forced back in a screaming crowd, some even being hit.

But Gail had no time for them; swift as a fox, he somersaulted backwards and, in the process of falling back to his feet on the Wall, unsheathed his sword. In a flurry of flying ammunition Gail blocked the shots with his super senses and quick reflexes. As he hit the bullets he remembered how Zulok had taught him to do this. “Matrix-style,” Zulok had said. Never had he imagined he would be fighting his mentor, the most powerful magician on earth.

But magic was of no use to him then. It would be a hard, bloody, honest battle.

Eventually, Zulok stopped to reload when the HK-5 started clicking irritatingly instead of shooting. Gail took the moment and replaced the sword for the handgun. Judging carefully, aiming quickly and quietly, he fired one shot. He could have aimed for Zulok’s head or chest, but Zulok was aware of that. Instead, Gail shot his HK-5. The gun jumped in a short blast.

“Damn,” Zulok barked, letting go of the now useless weapon.

“I see you’ve lost something,” Gail teased, out of breath.

“Shut up. I’ve still got the rest of my collection,” he said, slyly. And with that, Zulok fired a shot off his shotgun. It pierced the air, but missed its target. Gail rolled over the hard stone and dodged the shot. He hit the side of the Wall and was temporarily dazed.

At that crucial instant, Zulok could have killed him. It would have been a simple case of shooting and killing. But no. Zulok was too busy reloading the shotgun to notice Gail was off his guard.

Gail jumped up and fired the handgun once more. Zulok, at an incredible speed, curved himself to the side so the bullet hit the scabbard of his dangling sword.

It had been a worthy shot, capable of rendering Zulok unable to move properly if it had been successful; Gail had been aiming for his leg. Anyhow, Zulok was now ready to fire his shotgun.

Gail, finding himself still on the ground, felt a sharp trickle of sweat run down his forehead in the second before Zulok fired.

Reacting as best he could, Gail drew the .45 up and arched it as he shot. The manouvre was successful and his own bullet intercepted Zulok’s in mid-air. There was a small explosion.

Gail turned and ran for the tower behind him. He noticed now there were still people there, hiding inside it, intently watching the battle. Some were wounded from Zulok’s initial HK-5 attack, but most were just viewers.
Gail took a second to turn around and catch up on Zulok’s next move. He saw him lowering the shotgun and-

“Everybody out! OUT!” Gail yelled as he reached the tower. Zulok was about to send him a present.

It wasn’t difficult to see that Zulok was preparing a grenade to throw at the tower. The viewers suddenly realised it was time to make a run for it and they cleared the tower faster than Gail thought they would; the obvious effects of fear.

But Gail was already out on the other side and had a plan. He turned back in time to see Zulok hurl the grenade. At the exact moment he threw it, Gail crouched down low and fired his handgun. For the second time, his shot was successful and hit Zulok in his left leg while he was vulnerable after throwing the grenade. Blood sprayed the ground.

Now, Gail had approximately 2 seconds to get clear of the grenade’s near vicinity.

A tangled mud of running. Not fast enough. The sudden explosion ripped the tower into a fireworks display of stone and rock. Gail was violently thrown forward. He hit the ground hard with his face and almost lost consciousness.

However, he fought the blackness with all his strength. He could not lose consciousness. He would die if he did. Black. Surrounding. Black. No. He fought. The impact was fighting back. His brain was shutting down. He was going to faint and then Zulok would kill him. No. Black.

There was only one thing he could do, so he did it; Gail shot himself in the foot. The pain ran up his leg and up his body. Instantly he was awakened from the surrounding blackness.

Getting up, he saw Zulok was approching. Still weak from the fall, Gail grabbed his sword and swung it forward.

“Take th-”

But Zulok proved once again he was the better fighter; he unleashed his own sword and blocked Gail’s move. Both blades clanged together and the fighters were covered in a shower of sparks. Gail pressed downwards as he got up and Zulok’s sword was pressed to the ground. He brought it up in a quick, violent blow. Gail swerved out of the sword’s merciless way. His move next - he brought his sword up, then down. Zulok knocked it to the side. Gail almost went with it, considering the numbing, throbbing pain in his foot.

“Ha!” Zulok yelled triumphantly as he reared his sword to let loose the kill.
Gail, however, was still thinking. He moved with the arc of his own sword as it went around a full 360? and sent it cruising into Zulok’s head...

...almost. Zulok ducked and knocked Gail off his feet with a swift lash of his legs. Gail fell, again, and hit the ground.

“Now... it is time to die,” Zulok grunted, bringing the sword down, hoping to spear Gail’s heart with it.

Nevertheless, Gail managed to roll out of harm’s way in time to avoid the killer cut. He continued to roll for a second then got up and ran in the opposite direction of where Zulok was wiping his brow and taking a breath.
Gail let go of his sword. He turned around and drew his daggers.

“Let’s see how you do now,” he said, smiling a bloody smile.

Summoning all his reflexes and skill, Gail hurled one of the daggers at Zulok’s face. At the exact same time, he threw the other one at his left leg. While Zulok knocked away the first dagger, he failed to notice the second one. The short blade tore into his flesh and Zulok fell for the first time.

Gail had his M-16 rifle armed and ready.

“Oh... looks like you did it,” Zulok pointed out, a slick calm eternally burnt into his eyes and voice.

“Pray,” Gail said. “Now.”

The bullets were quick and lethal. Zulok blocked a few, but most hit the grenade pack he still wore around his waist.

Zulok had not even a second to scream or attempt an escape. A ball of fire erupted around him and the remaining 5 grenades, exactly, exploded.

Gail approached the burning heap and tasted the ashes of Zulok’s burnt skin blow against his lips. He had defeated the world’s most renowned and powerful sorcerer, his mentor, on hard stone.