PHAZE ONE
                         ~By Digitalis~
~Based on the 'Apprentice Adept' series by Piers Anthony~


Chapter One
Comp

Comp looked across the terminal to the woman on the other side. He knew her from previous games. She was named Jem and she was ranked second on her age ladder. She was smart, strong and artistic, and master of the Game. Just the person he didn't want to play against in the very first round of the Tourney. Of course, he couldn't get eliminated in round one, for all entrants of this year's Tourney were allowed two losses before elimination, but he'd like to keep his second loss in reserve for later on, when the competition really got tough. He was nervous, for he was certainly playing for high stakes; the price of loss was permanent Exile from the planet Proton. But the reward of winning was the only incentive he needed to enroll for the Tourney. 
The reward that so many played for was, to the serfs of Proton, the ultimate prize: Citizenship!
 He, Comp, like the large majority of the people of Proton, was a serf, with little or no possessions to call his own. They lived in the small apartments or barracks allocated to them, wore no clothes, and the sole reason for their existence on Proton was to serve their employers every whim. The employers were the Citizens, identified from the serfs by being allowed to wear clothing, who lived in luxury and were served in every way by the serfs that they employed. He himself served Citizen Blue. Despite their lack of possessions, he and the other serfs were happy, for their food and entertainment was free, as was planet-wide transport and all other services. Every serf's dream was to be granted Citizenship, and for this purpose there was a Tourney held every year. Comp had enrolled in last years Tourney, and had made in to round Eight, whereupon he had been defeated by a Citizen. Citizens regularly enrolled in the Tourney, because although success granted them nothing, failure similarly had no effect on Citizens, who were immune from deportation. Luckily round eight was the start of the 'runner up' awards, and he had won one-year extension of his Tenure. 
He was startled out of his reverie by his opponent's movements as she reached down to select an option on her screen. She had been sizing him up, and had made her choice. He realized he had better do the same. She was five centimeters shorter than him, but built more heavily. He would have a hard time besting her in any of the Physical contests, except perhaps acrobatics. His choices were numbered across the top of his screen; her letters listed down the side:

		1.PHYSICAL	2.MENTAL	3.CHANCE	4.ARTS
A.NAKED

B.TOOL

C.MACHINE

D.ANIMAL

Physical was ruled out, but maybe he would have a chance in Mental. It was the option he most often chose, and he was good at it. The problem was that she knew this, and might choose something that would point the category toward her strong points. Chance was out, because skill counted very little in any game of chance. Art was the only other viable option, but as he had only a small field of expertise within the Art category, Jem would most likely maneuver him into something with which he had no experience. Oh well, he would have to go for Mental. He pressed the correct place on the screen, and grid 2B expanded to fill the screen. She had chosen TOOL, putting them into category 2B, Tool-Assisted Mental Games.
The secondary grid formed, with numbers across the top ranging from 5-8 and the letters from E-H:

		5.SEPERATE	6.INTERACTIVE 7.PUZZLE 8.COOPERATIVE
E.BOARD

F.CARDS

G.PAPER

H.GENERAL

This time he had the letters to choose from. He had little hesitation in choosing E.BOARD against his opponent. Jem took a little time to choose, but soon the final grid was displayed. She had chosen 6.INTERACTIVE. This grid was composed of nine sections, all blank. There was a list of games down the right hand side, from which to choose. She had first choice, and entered CHECKERS in the top left corner. Comp replied by entering WARHAMMER (Table-based strategic battle) just below her entry. She entered CHESS in the center of the grid, and he followed with MONOPOLY. They filled in the grid, and Comp elected to choose the rows, leaving her to choose the columns. He chose the middle row, trying for WARHAMMER, but she chose the center column. The game was Chess, and they would be playing with the standard rules.
The voice of the Game Computer sounded, ordering them to follow the line to their playing area. A green line appeared on the floor, and they followed it to an amphitheater, with a chessboard set up in the center. Jem graciously offered to play the Black side, leaving the White side and first move to Comp. He accepted, and they took their places. They had a small audience, who watched on screens in front of them.
Comp made his move, moving a Knight to the White Queen's Bishop three square. Jem opened by moving a Pawn to her Queen's Knight four square, followed by Comp's next move of Pawn to King three. The audience made faint sounds as they settled in to watch the ensuing battle of wits. Jem moved another Pawn, this time to King's Bishop three. There seemed to be no strategy in her movements, but it was still too early to tell. Comp started to set up a strategy of his own, and moved a Pawn to Queens Bishop four. Jem pondered before moving her Black Bishop into position to take Comps Knight. He cursed and countered by moving another Pawn into position to block the Bishops line of attack. He examined the board closely as Jem made her next move, Pawn to King two. Seeing a slight opening, he moved his Knight into a position from which he could take a Pawn, but Jem countered by moving another Pawn to Queen's Rook four. What was she doing? Did she have a strategy or didn't she care about her Pawn? Comp couldn't see any danger, so he moved his Knight to take the Pawn. The first blood was his. Jem then slipped her White Bishop into position to take Comp's Queen, but he easily retaliated by moving his Queen to take the Bishop. It seemed to easy, was she setting him up for something?
He watched closely as she made her next move. Her pawn took his Queen! He kicked himself, how had he not seen that coming? He had made the mistake of not watching the Pawns, the smallest and least significant pieces on the board. He tried to make up for his loss by moving his White Bishop out into the field. He was beginning to work out a new strategy...
As Jem made her next move, Pawn to Queen Four, Comp noticed some Citizens in the audience, and envied their status. Comp moved his unused Knight out in front of his King, providing a little protection. Jem's Pawn took one of Comp's and he replied in kind, taking Pawn with Pawn. Comp then thought a little more about the Citizens, and realized that the serfs were rather lucky, in a way. Jem cunningly moved her Rook into a position to take Comp's Knight, and he replied by moving his White Bishop up into a position to taker her Knight. Jem's next move was quick, as she seized the opportunity to take his Bishop. Comp moved his Knight up and took Jem's Rook. He had been very lucky that Jem had missed that, and didn't want to rely on luck again. Jem moved her Bishop down, taking a Pawn and getting in a position to take Comp's Rook. Comp was about to move his Queen's Rook out of the Bishop's attack line, when he realized that his Knight was in the perfect position to take the Bishop! What phenomenal luck!
He took advantage of this surprise opening, moving his knight to take the Bishop. Then the voice of the Game Computer sounded "Illegal Move" 
Comp looked, and sure enough by moving his Knight his King had been in the Queen's line of attack. He castled, moving his King's Rook next to his King and then placing his King on the other side of the Rook. Jem moved down to take his Queen's rook, and Comp moved his Black Bishop, creating a direct line of attack for his newly positioned Rook. Jem retreated the Bishop back to her rear rank. Comp was sweating. He had a strategy that he was sure would work. He moved his Pawn up to take one of Jem's Pawns, and she used that Pawn to take his Pawn. Just as he has anticipated. He moved his Rook up and took Jem's Pawn, but then Jem started moving her Knight down. In the next few moves, Jem missed a chance to take Comp's Knight, and positioned herself to take his Rook. Comp then used the opportunity to take her Knight using his Knight. Then, by moving three Pawns and a Bishop, he was in a position to take Jem's Rook and move a Pawn to the rear row, granting him one extra piece of his choosing. Instead of doing this, he moved his Knight to take one of his opponents Pawns. Jem then moved her Queen diagonally, taking his Knight. He had set her up for this, and promptly moved his Rook to take her Queen. He now had a decisive advantage. She looked at the board and sighed. "You win Comp, I resign" she said. "You're a good player"
"No I'm not", Comp replied honestly "I was lucky"
"Yes, you were lucky," she spoke "but it takes more than luck to beat me" She said with a smile. "I still have another loss before I'm out of the competition, Comp. If you win the Tourney, and I make it past round Eight, remember me...I'd be a great Employee"
"Me? Win the Tourney?" Comp asked "Unlikely, but I certainly hope I do!" He smiled, and Jem smiled back.
"You can win Comp, you're the most adaptable player in the Tourney. You haven't played as much of the Game as others, but you have an ability to easily adjust to new challenges. Use it to your advantage" Jem finished and walked out of the arena. He certainly hoped that he could win the Tourney! He made himself a promise that if he won the Tourney and became a citizen, he would employ everyone that he had played against, if they made it to round eight.
He exited the arena and wandered back to his apartment. He took the 'scenic' route through Unidom, passing through parks and past food halls. He turned into a maintenance section, and passed the busy machines and robots as they went about their tasks of providing food and power to the people of Proton. Comp knew that most of the machines in this section were self-willed, not just mere robots, but 'people' in their own right. He exited the maintenance area, emerging into the corridor in which his apartment was located. He stepped up to his door, spoke his code word, and the door disappeared, allowing him access. He sighed as he looked around his apartment. He had a vid-screen, for communications and entertainment, a sonic shower for cleaning, a food slot for, of course, food, and a bed for sleeping. It was early afternoon, but before entering the Tourney, he had been working the late shift. He was employed by Citizen Blue, and was Head of the Citizen's Computer division. He was lucky, because Citizen Blue was the most lenient Citizen on the planet. He had even been known to let his Serfs leave the planet and go on holidays. Most Serfs never left the planet until the end of their Tenure, and those that did were mostly undertaking missions for their employers. He lay back on his bed and picked up a book. It was not his book, as Serfs had no possessions. It belonged to Citizen Blue who was letting him borrow it until he was finished reading it. It was made of real paper, and shipped all the way from Earth. It would have cost the Citizen a small fortune to purchase it, and it was a sign of trust that he had let Comp borrow it. It was entitled 'A Spell for Chameleon', by Piers Anthony. It was a fantasy tale, but Comp knew that a similar world existed in reality, a realm full of magical arts and fantastic battles between warriors and Dragons. It was a world existing parallel to Proton, an alternate world where Dragons flew and Unicorns roamed. It was the frame of Phaze, ruled by the Adepts, who commanded awesome magical powers. More than anything, Comp longed to go to this realm of magic, but travel there had been rendered impossible.
Once, the people of Proton had been able to travel there at will, passing through the magical curtain bisecting the two frames. But that was before Clef had played the Platinum flute and separated the frames forever. Citizen Blue, Comp's employer, was originally from the frame of Phaze, and there he had been the Blue Adept. Stile, Blue's alternate self from Proton frame was now the Blue Adept; they had switched frames to be with the women they loved.
Now however, the curtain was closed and the frames separated. The closest Comp could get to Phaze was by listening to the stories that Blue told while having a meal with him.
He lay down on his bunk and opened the book.


Chapter Two
Semaj

The brutish Goblin guard walked along the line of slaves, as they covered themselves in sweat, digging into the walls of the underground tunnel. They were slaves of the Purple Adept, digging out precious gems and stones to increase his wealth. The slaves cowered, one by one as the Goblin passed, until he finally stopped behind one of them. "Semaj!" yelled the guard.
Semaj turned to face him. He was a young man, twenty-six years old. He was heavily built by nature, and his long years of slavery in the mines had built up his muscles to make him nearly as strong as his guards. If not for the poor quality of the food he were fed, he would have been strong enough to escape the mine. He turned to guard, quivering ever so slightly as he noted the Goblin's cruel spiked club. "Aye milord?" he asked quietly.
"Thou hast been ordered to deliver this-" the guard thrust a package into Semaj's hand "-to the place that thou shalt find marked on this map." he thrust a map into Semaj's other hand.
"Aye Milord". Semaj glanced at the map and headed off. The place indicated was many miles away. He ran through the maze of tunnels that extended underneath most of southern Phaze. The Purple Adept used his network of tunnels for travel, mining, living and for spying on other Adepts. Semaj turned into a long tunnel, passing underneath the Blue demesnes. This was the northernmost tunnel and his destination was a guard post at the end of the tunnel. Suddenly, he felt something, a wash of power flowing over him. For a moment he stopped, but feeling nothing more, continued on. He felt another wave of power, then another and another. Suddenly he was full of power, of energy. He started running twice as fast, and grew less tired. He had no idea what the power was, but he liked it! Finally, he reached his destination and handed over the package to a Gnome. He then turned around and raced back down the tunnel. As he reached the start of the tunnel, he felt the power ebb away, and slowed back down to his normal pace. He was grateful for the boost that the energy had given him, but was upset that it was now gone. But soon he felt something inside him start to glow with the same type of power he had felt before. A little spark of energy boosted him, let him jog a little faster. That night, in his little niche of the bunk cave, he couldn't sleep. He felt the power steadily growing, and he also felt something telling him to leave the bunk cave. For a while he resisted, but the power was persistent, so he got up and let his legs take him where they wanted. He sneaked out of the bunk cave, through the mess hall, and along through the quite caverns. He avoided several patrols of Goblins and other creatures, and made his way through caverns he had never known of, up through tunnels he had never set eyes on before. But the power knew where it was going, and unrelentingly took him through twisting tunnels and tiny caves, hours and hours of slow jogging, walking, and crawling upwards, until suddenly he was outside!
He was breathing clear, fresh air, the dark sky stretching endlessly out above him, filled with bright stars!
He had been kidnapped by minions of the Purple Adept when he was just five years old, and he could hardly remember the trees, the flowers, the grass and the birds. The sky was just beginning to lighten in the first stages of dawn, and he managed to stumble through some bushes into a tunnel of trees. Suddenly an Elf was blocking his path. He had no idea what to say, but his mouth spoke for him, uttering words he could not understand or decipher. The Elf stood aside and let him pass, a look of surprise on his face. Semaj stumbled through some more trees, and into a beautiful clearing. It was all too much for him, and he was exhausted from his passage through the mines of the Purple Adept. He collapsed on the ground and lost consciousness.
When he awoke, he saw an old Elf looking down at him. Semi-conscious, he was led down into a tunnel, and into a room. He lost consciousness again.
He awoke refreshed and happy, and then saw the stone roof above him.
It had all been a dream, he was still in the Purple mines!
But no, this soft thing he was lying on was different to the hard pallet in his sleeping niche. And the roof was dryer than in the mines, and there was much more light. He sat up, and looked around. He was dressed in a soft yellow robe made of a material with which he was not familiar. He was sitting on a large bed, covered with a large red feather-filled blanket. He felt a weight on his chest, and looking down, found that a large amulet, wrought of solid Gold, was hung around his neck.
He got out of the bed and opened the large double doors on one side of the room. Instead of the exit that he had expected to find, it was an expansive closet full of clothes, armor and weapons. Although the items were of varying colors, he noticed that gold was the predominant color. He closed the closet and had just turned around when another door opened and two Elves entered. One was the old Elf he had seen earlier, and the other was a younger Elf, one he had not seen before.
"Hail, Milord Jame!" proclaimed the older Elf "I see that thou'rt awake at last! I be Obrion, leader o' the Gold Elves, an I be also thy humble servant." Obrion bowed to him.
The younger Elf also bowed, and addressed Semaj. "My Lord, I be Sovan, apprentice to Obrion. I be at thy service, my Lord"
Semaj had always been honest, and spoke up quickly at the perceived mistake. "Kind Lords" he began "My name be not Jame, but Semaj. I fear that thou hast mistaken me for some other one"
"Nonsense, if I may say so Milord!" Obrion said cheerfully "Thou hast been deceived these long years by that fiend, the Purple Adept. But there be a lot that thou must learn. Come, thou must first partake of breakfast. This way, my Lord!"
Jame, for it seemed that that was his true name, followed Obrion and Sovan out the door that they had entered by.
They entered a small but spacious room, hung with drapes and with tapestries depicting ancient prophecies. There was a table in the center of the room, covered in dishes of food and drink. Bowls full of exotic fruits, plates piled high with delicacies and jugs full of brightly colored liquids. At the sight of it, Jame's mouth opened in surprise. He had never seen such foods before!
As he approached the table, the scents of the meal reached him, and his mouth watered in anticipation. 
The three of them sat down and two young Elven maidens entered. Jame picked up an exquisite glass, and was about to fill it with a jug containing a purple liquid, when a cool hand gently took the glass from him. He looked up to see that one of the young Elves held his glass in her hand. He feared he had done something wrong, was he not permitted to eat, had he broken some taboo, but then she picked up the jug, filled his glass with the purple juice, and returned it to him. 
When the maidens had entered, he had expected that they would sit at the table with Obrion, Sovan and he, but apparently they were serving maids of some kind. The closest thing to serving maids in the mines had been the old Goblin hag who wheeled around the water trolley for the thirsty slaves.
He sipped his drink, unable to identify the sweet taste of the liquid. He was about to place some thin round cakes onto his plate, but as soon as he moved, the second maiden was at his side, piling the cakes high on his plate. Then she poured some kind of golden syrup onto the pile. She placed the plate in front of him and stepped back. Jame picked up a fork and began to eat. Obrion and Sovan had probably eaten earlier, for all they ate was a small piece of fruit apiece. For the next fifteen minutes Jame ate, tasting marvelous dishes, each more delicious than the last. Finishing with a glass of a tangy blue liquid, he sat back in his chair and sighed. He hadn't eaten this well in his entire life! 
"What now?" he asked Obrion.
"Now," replied the aged Elf, "thou shalt learn thy heritage and thy future! Follow me..." Obrion stood up and exited the dining chamber through a door hidden behind a tapestry.
Following Obrion, Jame entered a long room, each side lined with bookshelves. At the far end of the room sat a large desk. Jame heard Sovan close the door behind them as he followed Obrion to the desk. He noticed a large red book on the desk, the title written in gold 'Prophecies and Writings of the Gold Adept'
Obrion opened the book and turned to the third page. He started reading out loud. "...An the bearer o' the Purple Power shalt take the One destined to become Gold, and shalt enslave him, knowing not the full extent o' the Golden Power" Obrion stopped reading.
"The one destined to become Gold, milord Jame, is thou!" he continued to read "...when Gold feels Blue, the Power o' Gold shalt awaken" again, he stopped "Blue, the Blue Adept! Thou must have felt Blue's power, and then thy own Power emerged!" he kept reading "...and Gold shalt find his people, and his people shalt help him take his place in his castle, at Mount Avalon" Obrion stopped reading.