Shield Practice

         I winced away from the first baseball that went screaming by my head at ninety miles per hour. The machine at the other end of the cage whirred as another ball thunked into place. I frantically dodged out of the way and the ball rang against the chain link fence behind me before rolling back down the concrete bowl of the batting cage.
         “Focus!” yelled the deep voice of my master behind me.
         I shot a dirty look at my mentor who stood safe behind the fence only to be rewarded with a baseball to the left shoulder. I cursed loudly as the ball rolled away back to the pitching machine. Pain radiated through my shoulder in a monster charlie-horse. I wheeled back around to face the machine in time to avoid being hit in the ribs.
         The batting cages at the Family Grand Prix were set out along a cement bowl that sloped downward to a flower of pitching machines. I was the only person there on this gray afternoon and all the machines, save mine, sat cold and silent. Chain link fence encased the bowl and partitioned the separate batting areas, which were sorted by the speed the machine threw the ball.
         “If you don’t start soon, I think I’ll start the other machines.”
         I squirmed out of the way of another ball as it came barreling down-range. “This is ridiculous!”
         I heard the two pitching machines on either side of mine grind to life, their wheels spinning up. I felt a surge of magic behind me and the newly-started pitchers turned their snouts toward me and spat out their first baseballs.
         Master Rhodes had brought me here to practice abjuration, or protection magic. I had not been expecting the Family Grand Prix, a rural go-kart track with an arcade and batting cages, but I wasn’t surprised. I was surprised when I was shoved into the fastest batting cage with nothing but my wits and forced to dodge baseballs.
         Obviously, I needed to get a shield between me and the oncoming pain. For that, I needed concentration and focus, not easily found when you’re scrambling out of the way of hundred mile per hour fastballs. Luckily, I had thought ahead and made something specifically for when Master Rhodes pulled a stunt like this. I evaded another baseball and clutched at the talisman I had under my shirt. It was a square piece of brass turned on its corners to make a diamond. Inscribed on the front face was a pentacle seal I had devised for use in abjuration magic. It was a lamen, and it would act as a focus for my mind to concentrate on, making it easier to work protection magic. Usually, lamens are used for protection against hostile spirits, but I had adapted the concept to give me a more generalized focus for protection. So far, I had only learned the most basic wards against physical attacks, but I knew that a good defense was a wizard’s only saving grace. We’re just as squishy as anyone else, so it’s important to know how to protect yourself.
         All three machines were going full tilt now, spitting baseballs at high speed. I ducked too late to avoid another rock-hard pitch and the ball glanced off my right side, clanging against the fence. I swore and started to pull in Power. My vision grew sharper and more intense as I felt the rush of magic hit me. It was like adrenaline times a hundred. My mind seemed on fire and razor sharp. I drew magic from my own reservoir of energy and I felt the pull somewhere around my heart. I pictured a kite-shaped shield in front of me and concentrated on it, willing it into being. I began the incantation for the spell under my breath and shunted the magic I had gathered into the lamen around my neck. Power built inside the talisman as I drew it from under my t-shirt. The sigils on the pentacle shone a scintillating blue and the metal grew hot against my chest.
         The spell rose to its climax, the Power ready to be released. I held the energy as I sidestepped another ball as it whistled by my ear. The three machines whirred again and shot with the squeak of rubber on rawhide.
         “Contego!” I shouted, the words resonating strangely on the cold morning air.
         The release word sent the magic I had gathered out of my body and through the talisman in a torrent. My chest burned and my eyes watered as the energy left and formed a barrier about three feet away from me. A kite-shaped patch of air in front of me blurred, fraying to refracted rainbows as the magic took the air and hardened it into a shield. The incoming baseballs hit the interposing shield with a crack, sending rainbow ripples out from where they impacted. I felt the spell jump and buck in my mind, threatening to fracture, but I fought it back under control with an effort of willpower.
         I had learned, in my brief time as an apprentice, that magic was all in the state of mind. It was a force that could be controlled through concentration and determination. Mental focus was key. Seeing clearly in your mind how magic moved and what you wanted it to do was the only way. All the fancy incantations and “magical” items are used to help the magician’s mind reach a level of focused thought quickly and reliably. When your mind associates an object, incantation, or some other focus with a specific effect, such as my lamen and abjuration magic, it can reach the point of focus where the magic actually happens. Magic is the wizard’s Will made real.
         I could only see vague shapes through the blurred surface of the shield, but I heard the thunk and whir of the pitching machine reloading. Another flash of refracted light rippled along the surface of the hardened air and I managed to keep the shield in one piece.
         “Good!” Master Rhodes’s voice came from behind me, “but attack can come from anywhere and any angle. Preparedness and foresight are the wizard’s most effective tools.”
         I gave a short, cynical laugh, “Have a plan to kill everyone you meet.”
         “Something like that.” Rhodes said with a deep chuckle.
         Suddenly, the tingling pressure of unfamiliar power pressed against my magical senses. I heard Rhodes’s basso incantation and release word. The baseballs that had rolled down the bowl and gathered in the pit suddenly rose up in a cloud, levitated by my Master’s magic. I got a sinking feeling as I guessed what was about to happen.
         “Jacere!” Rhodes’s release word was like a thunderclap.
         The baseballs flew at me like arrows released from their bows. My air-shield couldn’t interpose itself between all of them. In a flash, I modified the shape of the shield in my mind. I dug deeper into my magical reserves, pulling more Power from my body. I flung out my arms, the veins in them shining blue where they cam close to the skin.
         “Tholus!” I shouted the release word, forcing more energy into the shield and giving it a new shape.
         The blurred air in the shield expanded quickly, growing from all sides until it formed a half-dome in front of me, coving all the angles the hits could come from. The balls rebounded off the dome like hailstones hitting a roof, their impacts sending rainbow ripples through the hardened air. The rapid fire hits made the spell’s energies jerk and twitch viciously and I struggled to keep them together. I closed my eyes, concentrating fully on the spell and blocking out all other distractions. I could feel every strike against the dome as a thudding against my consciousness, threatening to shatter my concentration.
         Sweat beaded my face as I struggled to keep control, but the hits kept coming. I pulled in more Power from around me, even the air grew even colder as I sucked the remaining heat out of it. I smiled savagely as I felt the burn of Power in my chest. I used that power to reinforce my shield as more hits slammed into it.
         Without warning, I felt something hard hit the back of my knees and send my feet flying out from under me. I landed hard on my back and the wind was knocked out of me. The shield spell broke loose from me and fractured, its pieces returning to their normal, gaseous form and the pent up mystic energy dissipating back into the environment around me. I opened my eyes and struggled to breathe. My vision danced with phantom spots of color and I could barely make out the mass of baseballs falling out of the air onto me. I rolled onto my side and covered my head, cursing breathlessly.
         After a minute, my eyes refocused to see Master Rhodes standing over me. He was an older man, his pulled back hair and close cropped goatee gone a dark, stormy silver. Rhodes was built like a semi truck and looked like he could bounce anyone who gave him trouble. In contrast to his build, Rhodes wore a professorial tweed jacket complete with patches on the elbows and a plain striped shirt and tie. He gripped a walking staff a little shorter than he was. He was looking down at me with a scowl of disapproval on his face.
         “Keep your eyes open, boy. You’re liable to get sucker punched, else,” he said in his rolling voice.
         “That was a cheap shot,” I groused.
         “Monsters fight dirty,” he said, “and you need to fight dirtier than they do if you want to survive. Always cheat; always win. The only unfair fight is the one you lose.”
         I groaned and sat up, rubbing the back of my head. “How did I do?”
         The older man grunted, “Humph. It wasn’t completely terrible.”
         I grinned and he smacked me in the shin with his staff.
         “Just mostly terrible. Again.”