Rise of the Living Forge

Esmerelda strode back through the stands, moving in a manner far spryer than any woman her age should have been capable of. She didn’t even slow as people called out to her, recalling the food she was selling and trying to buy some on her way back.

Her thoughts were no longer on gold. They were on the idiot boy that was somehow going to get himself killed in a tournament.

Esmerelda wasn’t even sure why she cared. She’d seen more people die than she could count. She was responsible for a fair number of those deaths. Dying was what mortals did. There was practically nothing else they did better.

It’s irrelevant. They’re weak. Nothing about either Penny or her son is worthy of my attention. Penny doesn’t have so much of a lick of power within her body. Even if I had an item that I could sell her to change how things worked, she wouldn’t be able to use it.

…and even if she could, I couldn’t sell it to her. Not anymore. I just told her that Arnold would be fine.

A roar rose up from the crowd. It seemed that another round of the melee battles had finished. A flicker of surprise passed through Esmerelda. The latest one had only just started. That was even faster than normal.

She glanced over her shoulder.

Standing in the center of the Arena were three heavily armored figures. Their equipment was made from glossy obsidian inlaid with beautiful silver trimmings. The quality was at the level that Esmerelda had only seen from immensely powerful artifacts or some of Arwin’s more recent works.

Esmerelda couldn’t make a single thing out about any of their appearances beneath the armor. They may as well have been golems.

She shook her head and turned away. This was getting out of hand. She didn’t give a shit about Arnold — or any random mortals, for that matter. There was only one reason she was at this tournament, and it was to have a little fun and make some money.

It had been too long since she’d sold anything. That was it. She just wanted to make a few sales.

Esmerelda started off again.

What kind of look will Penny have on her face when her son, who I told her would survive happily, dies?

Esmerelda ground to a halt. Her jaw clenched until veins bulged in her neck.

Damn it. This is going to eat at me. I should have just told her the truth. I, Esmerelda, can’t be made a liar.

I’m going to have to speak with Arwin.

***

Arwin stared intently at the winning team of the latest melee round as they walked off the stage. They hadn’t shown off any fancy techniques or abilities. They’d just plowed through everyone in their way, ignoring the strikes and magic that hit their armor as if nothing was happening.

And despite the combined might of every team that rallied against them… there wasn’t so much as a single scratch on any of the three winners’ matching sets of armor. It was completely undamaged. Its matte black surface, near obsidian, absorbed the light like a trio of black holes.

Their team was very well funded. They were going to be one of the top contenders. Arwin was certain of it. With equipment like that… it wasn’t hard to guess. That armor was leagues above anything else he’d seen thus far in the tournament — and outside of it.

It was the work of a Dwarven Smith. There was a dwarf backing one of the teams in the tournament.

I’m confident in everyone I’ve outfitted… but it’ll be interesting to see how they do when facing off against a team with dwarven armor. I wish I could see at least a bit of what that team looked like, though.

Arwin blew out a short breath. He caught his fingers twitching at his sides and stilled them with a thought. Sitting around at the sidelines was nerve-wracking. He’d have much preferred to be in the fight himself, but that just wasn’t possible.

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

With the number of eyes on the tournament, he couldn’t afford to fight himself. Even if nobody recognized him, there was far too great a chance that a member of the Secret Eye would put his fighting style together with the former Hero of Lian.

Besides, Olive is more than capable. With that new arm of hers, not to mention the armor I made her and her team… I’m confident they’ll be fine. Art’s team aren’t any pushovers either. With Kien on their side, they’re going to be quite the menaces.

I’m actually quite looking forward to their melee. I really hope it’s soon. The chances of them all landing in the same group are starting to get a little uncomfortably high.

There was a knock on the door.

Reya? She’s back already? That seems a bit fast. But why would she knock on the door? She can just walk through the wall.

Arwin turned, but the door was already opening by the time he’d finished the motion.

He nearly choked on his own saliva.

It wasn’t Reya that walked into the room.

It was Esmerelda.

“Apologies for the intrusion,” Esmerelda said, closing the door behind her. She shifted her weight, dumping the heavy wicker box strapped onto her back to the ground with a grunt. The old woman stretched her arms over her head and let out a groan. “This is such a pain. We must converse.”

“What are you doing here?” Arwin asked. “How did you even get to the Proving Grounds?”

Esmerelda stared at him. “Come now. Did you truly think that the Secret Eye are the only ones in possession of a manner of travel better than walking? There are many doors, and my shop can be anywhere.”

Not for the first time, a faint shiver ran down Arwin’s back as he examined the old woman. Even though the Menagerie had accepted her into its fold, he didn’t actually know what it was she was capable of.

It doesn’t help that she spends ninety percent of her time pretending to be a poor merchant that can’t sell something to save her life.

“Can you bring others?” Arwin asked, his head tilting to the side.

Esmerelda’s lips twitched in amusement. “For a price. Not one that I wish to charge. My abilities are never cheap, Arwin. Even for me.”

That isn’t ominous. Not at all.

“Right,” Arwin said slowly. “Why are you here, then? And what is it we need to talk about?”

“I’m here because the shop decided it wanted to be here,” Esmerelda replied with a one-shouldered shrug. The amusement fell away from her features as they turned serious. “I was not planning on interacting with you, but the Secret Eye are otherwise preoccupied right now. There is a matter that requires your attention.”

Arwin rose from his chair. “Is everyone okay? The Menagerie isn’t under attack, is it?”

“Nothing of that manner. There is a boy in this tournament. His name is Arnold. He is going to die.”

That caught Arwin off guard. He was pretty sure they didn’t know anyone by the name of Arnold. That meant this was just some random person.

She’s never struck me as the overly compassionate sort.

“How do you know? Or have you arranged for him to die? And if so, why? I’d really prefer to avoid that sort of business.”

Esmerelda glared at him. Then she reached into her wicker box and started to root around within it. “I do not know how, but I can assure you that I have had nothing to do with it. Circumstances have simply informed me of this impending fact. I want you to fix it.”

“I would love to. I don’t want anyone to die… but you haven’t given me much to work with.”

Esmerelda pulled a piece of paper out and flipped it around. Lines twisted across its surface, forming into a young man’s face. It was shockingly detailed, depicting everything from his curly hair to bright eyes. Arwin wasn’t even sure how she’d managed to encapsulate such a detail in black and white.

“Arranged for,” Esmerelda said.

“Huh.” Arwin said intelligently. He took the paper from her. “If you know this, why can’t you just tell the tournament organizers? And how do you know the future?”

“The Secret Eye would not believe me, and they may find offense to my presence if they realize I have broken in.” Esmerelda let out a snort. “And you know better than to call this a future. It’s not the future. Just a probability. Attempting to read into these things is foolish. Can you arrange for his survival or not?”

“I mean… I can try to keep an eye on things, but there’s only so much I can do,” Arwin said with a frown. “I suppose I could ask Reya to look for him and give him a warning.”

“Good,” Esmerelda said with a curt nod. “I assume normal terms apply for payment?”

Normal terms?

“Uh… sure?”

“Acceptable. Tell me when you have decided on the favor you seek.” Esmerelda nodded once more. Her nose scrunched as she turned, lowering her voice to mutter under her breath. “How far I have fallen, to make deals for the sake of another. What a waste. Most expensive potion I’ve ever made.”

Esmerelda grabbed her wicker box and strode right out of the room, closing the door behind her and leaving Arwin staring at it in befuddlement.

What just happened?

The crowd roared, practically rattling the room around Arwin.

He turned back to the melee, quickly scanning over it to see if he could spot Arnold. If the boy was in this fight, Arwin wasn’t sure how much he’d be able to pull off.

Fortunately, he wasn’t.

But someone else he knew was.

Arwin’s eyes landed on Olive’s team. Art’s was nowhere to be seen. A relieved sigh slipped from his lips and he flopped back into his chair.

The Secret Eye were watching his room. He couldn’t just traipse off in search for Arnold, which meant he’d have to wait until Reya returned.

And, while he did, he could get his first look at how Olive and the Phoenix Circle would fare in the tournament.

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