Rise of the Living Forge

Maeve’s stomach twisted into a knot as flame tore through the arena with a deafening roar. Even standing a dozen paces away from the blue inferno that spilled from Spark’s staff, she could feel the heat drive the air from her lungs.

She stood and watched as it slammed into Olive. She did nothing as Olive hit the ground in a tumbling roll, coils of fire licking off her armor, and skidded to a stop several feet away from the mage, where she laid still. She did nothing to stop Olive from taking the full brunt of a spell that could have easily killed a normal adventurer.

But she could have.

The song of the magic had rung in Maeve’s ears like a melodic warning before even a flicker of fire had spilled forth. Maeve had heard the magic. She’d known what it had been meant to do — and she could have stopped it before it ever begun.

She had not.

Maeve knew enough to know that Olive would survive the attack. Between her armor and her own abilities, it was not strong enough to kill her. If Maeve had acted to stop the magic, it would have forced her to reveal her true strength. The Secret Eye would have known what she was immediately.

Standing by and doing nothing was the right move. It was the only one that protected them. But even with all that knowledge, the knot in her stomach didn’t loosen in the slightest.

Her hands clenched at her sides as healers rushed over to Olive. Even though Maeve couldn’t see the other woman’s face, she knew it was badly burned. It would be fine once the healers were done with her. That did little to make her feel any better.

Spark stared at Olive in disbelief, the staff still held in a tight grip before her. Her lips worked as she tried to find words. “I — I wasn’t —”

“Snap out of it,” the shadow wielder barked. “There’s one left. The fight isn’t over.”

The urge to sing was nearly overwhelming. Maeve’s jaw clenched so tight that some distant part of her mind feared her teeth would shatter. It wouldn’t take much. A few sharp notes was all she needed.

Spark and the shadow wielder wouldn’t have any time to prepare for them. They’d be caught off guard, and Maeve would have more than enough time to deal with them as one. But doing that would ruin everything they’d worked for.

But even that urge was overwhelmed by one more thing. Standing at the very edge of the arena was Elias. He leaned against the stone, exhaustion written in his body language, but his eyes bore straight into Maeve’s as he shook his head.

The message was clear. They’d spent more than enough time together to be able to communicate without having to waste time on cumbersome things such as words. His gaze and motions alone were enough.

He didn’t want her continuing the fight.

But that wasn’t all. Maeve hadn’t missed the magic he’d used. The way the bandages covering Elias had come to life after so long of remaining dormant. It should have been impossible. She knew as well as he did that Elias wasn’t capable of mustering magic like that on his own.

Maeve could only think of a single explanation as to what had happened.

Norman. He did something to Elias. There’s no other possible way he could have used that magic. Elias’ body literally doesn’t have the capacity to store magic like that anymore. The most he can handle is when I’m pumping him full of my own.

But he just used his magic. His actual magic. And if he did that… his body can contain magical energy again.

Maeve’s lips twisted into a smile. It had been more than just something she’d seen.

Everyone who channeled magical energy from the Mesh had a certain song to them. It was a song that only a Siren could hear, and it told more than any words could ever hope to convey. The stronger the song, the stronger the magic.

It had been so long since she’d last heard Elias’ song. In recent years, even when she’d lent him her power, the only thing she heard was her own song. His had been silent.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Today, that had changed.

She’d heard Elias’ magic. More than that. The song rolling out from him was like a thunderous orchestra. Wild and uncontrolled, but so intent on making itself known that she couldn’t understand how everyone else in the arena was deaf to it.

Elias was back. His song was his once more. And there was only one way that could have happened. When Elias had gone missing, Norman must have fixed him. Truly fixed him. This was no mere patch job to keep Elias alive.

If his body could hold magic like this again, then he wasn’t dying — or un-dying. Whatever the right word for an undead was.

And, unlike Elias, I don’t care in the slightest about how Norman did it. I’ve never been as kind as he is.

But if he’s whole… then there’s no reason for us to win this fight anymore, is there? We don’t need to. I have nothing more I want from the Secret Eye. Elias is safe. He should have known that as well — which means he only continued the fight this long to make sure Olive’s efforts weren’t spat on.

Gods. What a man.

Maeve’s lips curled into a smile as she turned back toward the two remaining members of Setting Sun’s team. It would have been easy to surrender. Olive was unconscious. They’d put up a great fight, all things considered. Taking out one of their team and forcing the other into a corner… for a group such as theirs, there was much to be proud of.

But Elias had gone to the limits. He’d honored Olive’s fight for his survival. Maeve couldn’t just set the metaphorical sword down now. Not when Elias had gone so far.

She beckoned the members of Setting Sun forward. There was no point using her words, after all. They were too great to be wasted on the likes of a fight like this — but Maeve would not step off the stage. She would not surrender.

The Setting Sun were going to have to earn this.

“Deal with the slippery one already, would you?” the shadow wielder asked, his voice tense. “She’s been dancing circles around you the whole fight.”

“I didn’t mean to…” Spark said, staring at the spot where Olive had been a moment before. “That wasn’t the spell I wanted to use.”

“Snap out of it,” her partner snarled, elbowing Spark in the shoulder. “The fight’s still going. The woman is fine. The healers got her. If she was dead, they wouldn’t be doing anything. Now finish your fight… unless you want me to do it for you.”

Spark finally let her gaze snap back to Maeve. Her features wavered for a moment before she swallowed and a mask of determination washed over them. The mage’s hands tightened around her staff. “Right. We’re done here. Your team did well. Very well. You have much to be proud of. And… apologize to your friend for me, please.”

Apologize yourself, coward.

Maeve drew in a deep breath. The songs twisting through the air around her changed as magic flowed to rush into Spark. They told her exactly what the magic the girl was calling upon was. Told her where the magic would go, and where Maeve had to move to avoid it.

But Maeve didn’t move. The fight was just about over. And, even if there was no way she was winning the fight without revealing more than she could afford, she had absolutely no plans of letting the round end here.

I’d say one person remaining on the other team should be a suitable spot for us to lose.

Maeve took the song within her hands. She let its electric energy squirm through her veins like blood.

Spark’s staff fell.

Magic exploded through the air with a deafening boom. Song screamed a warning — and Maeve smiled. She reached out, caressing the air gently like the face of a lover. Energy trailed from her fingertips.

The bolt of lightning drove into her hands with a furious roar. Maeve spun spun on one foot, grasping onto the screaming power within, and let the spells momentum carry her around until she was facing Spark once more. Then, with a snarl, she sent it hurtling straight back at the mage.

It all happened in a flash. There was a brilliant crack as the lightning split through the arena. Spark’s eyes only had an instant to widen. She tried to ready another spell, but there was no time.

Her own magic crashed into her chest.

The bolt of lightning tore Spark off her feet. Her huge staff flew from her hands as she flew over the edge of the arena. Spark hit the ground with a pained grunt, bouncing once and skidding several feet across the ground. She slammed to a stop against the walls of the stands, the breath exploding from her lungs in a surprised wheeze.

Spark’s staff impaled itself in the ground several feet away from her. It quivered in place, the magic humming within it slowly fading away as Spark stared in disbelief.

Maeve let her hands lower. Exhaustion tickled at the back of her mind. Redirecting the song like that was difficult — especially when she couldn’t use her own voice. But she was more than satisfied with this result.

Even as the shadow wielder appeared before her and drove his foot in to her stomach, sending Maeve flying over the edge of the arena herself, a smile still split her lips. Even as the arena erupted in cheers at the end of the fight, even as she hit the ground in a roll and skidded to a stop against Elias’ hands, the smile never left her face.

Elias was safe. Hein had been stopped. Arwin’s armor had more than demonstrated just how effective it was. Phoenix Circle’s name had been restored. The assassins that had gone after the Menagerie and Melissa had been killed. Olive had led them all the way to the finals of the Proving Grounds.

Every single one of their goals had been accomplished.

Even though their team had been defeated…

They had won.