The sorcerer did not bother to examine his work. He knew the barrier had been reformed, and even a brief moment of inspection would be a waste of his time and an indication of insecurity.
He walked brazenly among the elves, past several that carried bows and swords. It was not his muscular body that gave him his confidence, but his full understanding of the situation. He showed not a care for his safety, for he walked in his realm, a land of darker magic, and the energy that fed him would always keep him safe from such inferior weapons.
He ignored the elf elder as well as the captain of the elf guard. His attention turned instead toward the spell casters.
"Impressive," he offered, but not as a compliment to their ability. It was spoken as a statement of fact. "You almost broke through. I would have thought it would have taken more time."
The human turned to the two elves that monitored the activity. He looked at them with his sunken eyes casting a near indifferent gaze over his own rather large nose. He might have found tedium in addressing what he viewed inferior beings, but he could not completely suppress his curiosity.
"You chose a caster of storm first," the sorcerer spoke with a tone of apparent interest, but with an expression of apathy as well. "Why him? Was it the color of his natural magic or his ability to cast in a perfect circle?"
The two monitors did not respond. They looked toward Birk and Shantree, waiting for instruction from their leaders before acting on their own.
The sorcerer sighed. He wondered why such stubborn beings could not grasp the full measure of the situation. It was beneath him to make threats, but for some reason, he could not escape the necessity. He knew which elf he needed to address, knew the one with full authority over the rest. He did not look toward Shantree Wispon, but he made his deliberations clear.
"You are the elf elder. Instruct them to answer me or I will obliterate ten of your youngest elves. And I assure you, I do not bluff."
"Answer him," Shantree said with a nod, trying to appear firm, but truly fearful of what the human might do if crossed.
"It was both," one of the monitors finally replied. "His skill is unmatched, and the dark violet hue of his magic is the closest to the ebony aura of the field."
The sorcerer shook his head.
"There is no comparison between the two. Black is the only pure energy. Everything else is diluted in some fashion. What is violet but a mix of red and blue?" He paused as his curiosity returned. "Is that why you followed with the blue magic?"
The elf monitors did not enjoy the discussion, but they willingly obeyed the commands of the camp elder. One answered with honesty, but without any indication of pleasure in the debate.
"Partially, but also the power of water compliments the surge of the storm."
"You hoped to strengthen the pressure of the spell?"
"Essentially, yes."
"But then why follow with crimson power?"
"We felt we needed to utilize all the hues. That seemed the next logical choice."
"Logical? Not at all. Red magic leads to orange, the power of fire, and fire and water do not work well in concert. They oppose each other."
The elf saw it differently.
"Crimson energy is the magic of the land, and in the proper sequence, it would compliment blue magic. We ended the violet magic in order to allow the red and blue to work separately." To confirm his argument, the monitor declared a simple truth. "It was not the orange magic of fire that we utilized next. The red and blue magic set the stage for the emerald power."
To the sorcerer, the results indicated the folly of the decision, and there was no argument.
"And when you added green, your assault weakened almost immediately," the human scoffed. "Why debate the matter when you already know the results? You can't be that ignorant."
"But the yellow energy returned the green power to its original strength," the other monitor defended the decision.
"A wasted step. Foolishness." The sorcerer sighed again and shook his head with frustration as if he was arguing with children. "If you were going to start with violet, blue was the proper choice to follow, but then you should have moved directly to the golden energy. Utilizing red and then turning to green magic was a mistake. The inability to recognize your blunder simply makes it that much more glaring."
Birk Grund did not care for the human sorcerer's tone and appreciated the direction of the conversation even less. He decided remaining quiet was no longer acceptable.
"Then maybe you should allow us to try again," Birk stated firmly. "We will gladly utilize the sequence you suggest and perhaps the wall will fall, if you do not interfere."
Turning toward the voice, the muscular man with dirty blonde hair smiled, but it was not a grin of good humor. It revealed a twisted amusement.
"Ah, the captain of the elf guard decides to enter the conversation. Birk Grund, isn't it?"
"It is, and may I ask your name?"
"You may. I will even answer. It's Ansas."
"You speak it as if I should know you. Should I?"
"I have dealt with an elf from your camp before. I was wondering if she might have spoken of me."
"Which elf?"
"That would be giving away too much. I can already tell you don't know me. That's enough for me."
Rather than press the issue, Birk decided to seek other answers, ones he believed held far more importance.
"Clearly you constructed this barrier. I assume you are the one that brought us here."
"You assume correctly."
"Why?"
"Two reasons. One has to do with the elf I have already mentioned, the one I had dealings with in the past."
Birk suddenly realized the name of the elf was far more important than he previously guessed and attempted to rectify his mistake.
"You did not tell me the name of the elf."
Ansas continued speaking as if he had not been interrupted.
"The second reason has to do with personal desires. I need magic casters, ones that are proficient and remain focused on their inherent hue. In that regard, I should thank you because you have made my task in that respect so much easier."
Ansas abruptly disregarded the elf captain and turned back to the spell casters near the barrier.
"I have need of you and you," the sorcerer revealed as he nodded to Scheff and Haven. "You might also be of use," he continued as he looked to the elf who cast emerald magic.
Without word or warning, he brought his hands together and cast a spell in a single heartbeat. The ebony magic shot from his fingers and created a dark ring high above his head. Three darkened shadows dropped from the ring and fell upon the three elves the sorcerer had indicated were deserving of his attention. The blackness fell upon the magic casters like a heavy mist but quickly dissolved away, leaving nothing behind. The elves were gone.
Birk needed nothing further to act.
"Take him down!" the captain shouted to guards he had stationed near the point of assault.
Several arrows split the air before the echo of the order died away. Unfortunately, they would never reach their target. A dark wind rose up from the ground beneath Ansas' feet and turned into a swirling mass that surrounded the sorcerer. The spinning force pulverized the arrows into dust before they came close to their mark.
Another eight elves rushed toward the sorcerer with swords drawn, sprinting at full speed. Though they could not match the speed of a delver, they still moved with an elf's quickness, and they raced across the hard ground at a swiftness that would surprise most humans.
Ansas, however, disregarded the charging elves, didn't reveal alarm for his safety or even mild concern over the attack. As he examined the other elves that worked to destroy the magical wall, the black twister that surrounded him expanded in a mighty rush of outward force. While it passed through every elf around him, it only bore the brunt of its strength on those with swords drawn.