Tricks within tricks, Aleksandr thought, almost in tandem with a similarly-emphasized but more crudely-worded verbal sentiment from Kichaa. The two of them separated immediately, though they were already fairly distant from one another, in an instant reaction to the oncoming wave of magic. Neither knew exactly what it would do, of course; the swordsman didn't have the knowledge and the wizard had no desire to poke it and prod it at the expense of a quick fix. Both of them did have the same general idea, though.

Get away from it.

The brunt of the impact landed full-on in a blast that sent Kichaa off his feet and flying backwards, though fortunately not off-balance. He had already been reflexively skipping away from the barrier when it hit him, halfway off the ground and all the way prepared to go through with a jump and a landing. The jump and the landing he was subjected to just happened to be an impressive amount larger and more disturbing than a little backwards hop. The hit from the mage barrier knocked him backwards and out of the most luminous area of the fight, giving him a good excuse to fade back even further into the shadows. He kept his eye on the advancing warrior even as he did it, aware that the shield had gone down already.

Aleksandr had taken no damage whatsoever from the barrier. His magic functioned on an entirely different wavelength from the one his opposition threw at him, resulting in a defunct wash of purple energy that bypassed the kinetic shield entirely. With Kichaa knocked out of the fight and the warrior distracted, the wizard had already come to the conclusion that the shield would be functionally useless in any fight he took part in—it looked like it was going to be the predictable pairing. Warrior-versus-warrior, magician-versus-magician was poetically appropriate, he admitted that much to himself, but it left out a great deal of potential for foul play and tripping up the opponent. Magicians were so much more difficult to trick than warriors.

As his shield dropped, the wizard took a deep breath of the cool, dusty air and let it out in a single word.

"Dalla."

The energy of his spell congealed quietly and subtly, insidious and cruel. He imagined a faint circle in his line of sight, a pentagram sealed within it, and the energies of his spell became a firm reality that he could direct. He lifted a hand in an imperious, dismissive gesture of nigh-contempt and let his curse fly at the opposing mage. Direct combat wizardry had been the name of the game so far, but with the lights out except for the dull glow of his shielding glove, he was at a disadvantage against an opponent who could see him. He presented a fine old target, a bastion of prepared light in a dark place; a curse to take away sight seemed entirely appropriate.

Meanwhile, Kichaa was taking advantage of the darkness in which he believed he had the advantage. That he could be wrong, of course, never occurred to him. He moved deeper into the shadowed room until he felt the smooth, cool brick of a wall, then backtracked further from there until he was in a corner. The fight could only come from one way, which limited him but, he thought, made him a harder target to find in the darkness. That he was wrong was just an unfortunate chance he had taken.

__________________

["Ow, ow, ow ... oh, it hurts to be so good!" - Ramirez]