The war that had lasted for nearly ten years was ending this day.

The challenge had been laid down, and it was very clear. The two magicians had agreed to meet at a clearing, in the woods near where they both lived. Each of them was allowed to bring witnesses, but no seconds. It didn’t matter anymore why they hated each other. This fight was to resolve their differences once and for all.

Eric chose to have their duel in the clearing, and Simon agreed. It was neutral ground, and very private. Both mages brought witnesses to watch for foul play, and guard against interference, from both magical and mundane sources. Simon brought a standing placard with the rules posted on its face, and they were read out loud by the judge.

“Two circles will be drawn, nine feet across and nine feet apart.

Each magician is allowed one magical implement, but it may not be thrown or used to strike his opponent.

Neither magician will be permitted a protective talisman of any sort.

Neither magician may set foot outside the circles once the duel begins.

The duel begins when both magicians enter their circles.

The duel ends when one magician surrenders or is incapacitated.”

Both magicians agreed to the rules and presented their magical implements for inspection. Eric had brought his rosewood cup, seven inches across with three moonstones set in the stem. Simon brought a staff made from a yew sapling, seven feet long and completely unadorned. Both were inspected by the judge and pronounced suitable for use –  neither staff nor cup contained disguised features or hidden weapons. Both were then given to the combatants’ apprentices for safekeeping until the duel began.

After a brief staredown, Eric took the initiative and stepped over to Simon and extended his hand, which Simon left hanging in the air. “So,” he muttered. “I want you to know that I never wanted it to come to this. I always thought that no matter what happened, we could manage to stay friends. We’ve always been friends, ever since we were kids.”

Simon listened without responding, staring off into the distance. Finally he lowered his eyes to the ground, sighed and said “I’m going to kick your ass, Eric.” He added as he walked away, “And if I can, I’m going to kill you.” Both mages approached their circles and prepared themselves. Eric’s apprentice came forward to cleanse him, sprinkling him with blessed water from his cup and lightly misting him with the smoke from a white sage bundle. Simon’s apprentice came to him, dipping her fingers in a bowl of black paint and painting a Sign of War on Simon’s forehead. This was the moment of truth.

The judge brought them both forward to the center of the field, directly between the two circles. Standing directly across from the placard, the judge recited the rules one more time for both of them.Then he laid down the law. “The conditions of the duel are clear, and their dispute is considered resolved as of today. The victor resumes his accustomed life, and the defeated mage will be dismissed from the community. Both combatants will now turn and enter their circles, and the duel is begun as of now.”

Without a word, both Eric and Simon turned back to back and stepped into their respective circles, carrying their chosen implements. A tense quiet fell over the clearing as the two mages turned to face each other. Simon was clear and focused, grinning in determination. He took his staff in his left hand, wrapping his right hand around the knobby root on top. Taking a deep breath, he lowered his stance a little and pointed the butt-end of his staff directly forward at Eric’s circle.

Eric, on the other hand, looked calm and peaceful. Passive and expressionless, he sat down cross-legged and began staring into his cup. His breath slowed and his trance deepened as he sought his opponent’s heart. Gazing deeper, he began seeing into Simon’s mind. Passing through his surface thoughts, he gazed deeper still, seeking to open a gateway into Simon’s heart through which he could reach through and compel his surrender. Confident he could end the duel quickly and peacefully, he finally broke through the last of Simon’s barriers and saw into his heart.

Oh no.

Eric’s head snapped up in shock and he locked eyes with Simon. Grinning broadly, Simon began charging toward the edge of his circle. Planting the butt end of his staff into the ground right on the line, he swung his legs foward. The staff flexed just enough to add spring to his vault, and he cleared the gap between the circles. Simon’s grin never faltered as his boots thumped down inside Eric’s circle and he used his forward momentum to launch him forward as he began administering an epic beating to his half-tranced opponent.

The initial shock of the brutal assault prevented any of Eric’s witnesses from a prompt rescue, and by the time the judge got between the two mages, Eric was a bloody unconscious mess. Simon’s witnesses pointed out that Eric was indeed the first one unconscious, but Eric’s witnesses insisted that Simon be disqualified for breaking the rules.

The judge only had one question. “Simon, exactly how was that a magical duel?”

Still grinning, Simon crossed over to the placard in the middle of the pitch. He tore off the piece of paper on which he’d written the rules, revealing a gold sigil painted on the placard. “This is a sigil of coercion, compelling anyone who read what I posted to accept it. This fight was over the minute Eric agreed to abide by a set of rules with a pretty obvious loophole.”

The war was over.

Moral of the Story: The most powerful things in the world are never what they appear to be. Never hesitate to bend the rules.