High-level Boredom

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Flash Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
I've got 99 levels, but a worthy opponent ain't one, son.

Submitted: July 22, 2015

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Submitted: July 22, 2015



"Dar!" Dervish wound up, arms flung in the air. "Sarnnnn...!!"

"Oh sheit..." Wyld giggled beside Dervish.

Primor, Dervish's target, giggled, too.

"RNNNNNNNNN!!" Dervish continued.

"Aw, c'mon," Primor said, grinning, "You've only so much mana to--"


Primor disappeared under a gargantuan blast that parted the clouds and shook the entire island.

"Whooo!" Wyld exulted, dancing a little jig as his mana barrier negated the shockwave. "I know that one had to feel good, 'cuz it felt good to me!"

A few seconds passed before the Darsan's Boom spell dissipated, leaving debris of dirt, glassed rock and drops of moisture to rain from the sky, and likely continue to do so for a few minutes longer. There was no sign of Primor, however.

Wyld asked, "Do you want to revive him, or should I? That must have emptied your reserves."

"Eh," Dervish said with a shrug. "What's a Flash Revive run? Two percent of unmodified maximum capacity?" He looked up for a second, gauging his own capacity for a moment. "Anddd...that should be replenished enough."

Dervish casually wound an arm across his body, getting his fingers ready in the proper incantation position. "Primor!" He slung his arm back across and snapped his fingers, igniting divine sparks at the tips. "Revive!"

Primor reappeared in a blaze of divine light, fresh and whole. "Oh man," he said. "Did that look as good as it felt?" He grinned, tilting his head back and forth. "Wow, that really got the kink out of my neck. Like a whole new man!"

"Dibs! Next!" Wyld called. "I got a disease or some other from the tavern wenches last night. Itches like a scabbleworm."

Primor walked over to the other two Hero's sides. "You know," he said, "we could just take him to a healer." He pointed beyond the massive hole in the island, still smoking from the spell, off to the west. "There's one in Drestall. I have the teleport rune, of course. We all do. It'll take maybe--"

"Naw," Dervish said. "I like this way better." He pointed at Wyld's feet. "Icarrri!  BOOST!!" He threw his finger up, high into the sky, sending Wyld, giggling, into the clouds in an instant.

Primor shielded his eyes, watching Wyld fly so high the giggling faded from hearing. "Wow," he said. "A cheap modification spell. Huh. Never would have thought of that." He looked to Dervish. "Where's he coming down, you think?"

Dervish shrugged.

© Copyright 2018 Jack Motley. All rights reserved.

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