The arena sands; they had become a place of regular pain and training for me over the past couple of weeks. Following my altercation with Cedric, I had some conflicting emotions concerning the place, but currently I was just anxious to be standing within it. Anxious and morbidly excited.

We'd been paired into teams. Currently, Garron and I stood together as partners atop one of the dozens of resurrection arrays that were placed across the arena.

Garron held a greatstaff in his hand, something he'd started carrying ever since Master Steelvein had emphasized the importance of a mage being able to survive when their mana was depleted. Most of the other initiates had not chosen to start carrying a weapon as Garron had, however; I mostly thought this was foolish and arrogant of them.

"We stick together, yes?" Garron asked.

I nodded. "I'm not leaving you. You only get one point for taking out one member of another team. But you lose two for not protecting your partner. It wouldn't make sense and I also just don't want to see you—" I hesitated.

Die. I didn't want to see him die, but saying that word made the realities of the battle royale a little too real.

"I will do my best," Garron affirmed his understanding.

The array beneath our feet shone brightly. Mile backed closer to my leg; as always, magic bonded companions were allowed in the arena—and they didn't count against your partner count for the royale specifically.

"I think it's starting," I said.

Mile barked as the sands around us pulsed and grew violently bright with mana. The sounds of groaning earth filled the air as the ground beneath our feet was rapidly transmuted into what I realized was becoming layers of dirt and grass.

Hills suddenly rose and obscured the other teams. More shockingly, before they'd even been hidden, it momentarily seemed as if the other initiates were stretching away from us even though they themselves weren't moving. I scanned around myself, but there was simply too much change everywhere to tell if Garron and I were being shifted in space somehow as well.

Great roots erupted from the ground with a creaking. Roots that grew into trees that were taller than almost anything I'd ever seen. I momentarily wondered how the masters planned to observe us at all through the shifting landscape. I also found it peculiar that I didn't sense any even druidic-adjacent magic being done to create the trees from seemingly nothing.

After a minute or more of the arena turning into a sprawling, massive forest, the changing around us stopped.

I could no longer see the arena stands.

A flock of birds flew past Garron and me; I didn't recognize their species.

"Did you know the arena could do this?" I asked him.

"No; I saw the same things that you did with Luke and Alara's duel but that is all, and it was not this drastic then," he replied. "Do you believe the others will be able to find us based on where we were standing before the arena changed?"

I was always surprised by how Garron treated me as an equal, despite him being a good bit older than I.

"I don't think we could find them," I said. "So, probably not?"

"You noticed it too then," he said. "That the arena was growing larger."

"I noticed something like that," I agreed. "Maybe we should move away from this resurrection array just in case?"

Garron scanned the surroundings and glanced to the stone, sigil-etched platform below us. "Yes, we should."

***

Kara pressed her back to a massive tree. She tried her best to keep her ragged breathing as calm as possible. Her partner was dead. All because of that brat and his good-looking, annoyingly carefree lacky.

It hadn't been a good death. As far as other nobles went, her partner, Millie Hardwin, was someone Kara actually liked. The other girl hadn't deserved to watch her own words and magic fail her as she was cooked from the inside out.

Millie's death also unfortunately meant that Kara was down two points. As well as being in a much worse position to gain any. She had been hoping to make a good impression on one of the masters in the Tower of Immolation; this was not a good start to things at all.

The flame mage reached down to touch her stomach and winced. It was a clean cut there, but the gash across her entire lower torso was still bleeding. At least her organs weren't spilling out.

Dreading what she was about to have to do and the scar it would leave, Kara momentarily made a fire sign with her hand and utilized her mana mutation [flame inheritance]. With this trait, she funneled the fire-attuned mana of her sign into just two of her fingers.

Kara held her breath against the threat of the smell of her own burning flesh as she began to cauterize her wounded belly. She'd mentally braced herself for the pain, but she ended up on her knees anyway.

She stayed there for multiple minutes, wishing the lingering sting and heat away, before she heard a whooshing of wind pass through the trees.

She scowled. She sensed mana in the breeze. Her pursuers were close again. She hadn't escaped them.

The sound of crackling static entered her ears moments later, and she forced herself to stand and peer out from behind the tree she hid behind.

A flash of blue-white mana was all she saw before she forced her body instinctively back behind cover.

A static flash almost blinded her as it flew into a tree just past where her head had been.

She couldn't out reflex lightning—her dexterity wasn't nearly high enough for that—but she could time the casting of the spell bolt as it was charged. The problem was that the caster of said bolt seemed to have a near limitless reserve of mana—something that seemed entirely unnatural and unfair.

She made another fire-sign and a sigil appeared in front of her hand.

Kara jumped from behind the tree, doing her best to aim at the direction the lightning had come from.

Her sigil flashed, and she released her [fire lance].

She saw him then, the source of the electric bolt. Cedric's entire body was covered in lightning, making him appear all but untouchable. His eyes glowed a bright azure, and his hair itself was charged with moving static.

Kara knew Cedric was already aware of where she was, but she needed to see her [fire lance] to control its trajectory and hopefully hit the Stormwind heir with it.

With the instinctual hold over any flame magic that [flame inheritance] gave her, Kara redirected the flying lance to aim directly towards Cedric's throat. She wasn't sure if it could get through the mana-disrupting lightning all around him, but she had to try.

Cedric's hand was still raised, and the lightning covering his entire body began to coalesce towards his palm again.

Kara's burning projectile, however, was sundered by a blast of wind before Cedric could cast his counter strike.

Seeing her spell disrupted, Cedric allowed his lightning aura to pull back from his hand; the electricity spiraled back up to wrap over his entire body once more.

Rylan emerged from the trees to the young noble's side.

"Flameheart, I promise you that I will make it as painless as I can," Cedric said. "Surrender to us, and it will not hurt long."

She thought she saw Rylan glance at his partner with a mostly noncommitted look of at least minor judgement.

"How are you going to do that?" she shouted to him.

"I can aim for your head," Cedric's voice grew a little strained, as if he wasn't entirely comfortable with the idea but was trying to hide it. "I'll use enough mana to pierce you quickly. You'll only see me gathering the energy; you won't know you were struck."

"And what if you miss slightly?" Kara called back.

"I'm offering you a kindness," Cedric said, warningly.

Kara stepped forward and let a little vulnerability enter her voice. "If I agree... can you do it from close up so I know it won't go wrong?"

Rylan looked at her suspiciously. "Cedric. I don't think that's the best idea."

Kara paused in her steps towards them. "I want to be able to close my eyes before so I don't see it. And I want to be close enough to know you'll hit what you aim for. I've never..." her voice broke a little, "died before and—"

Cedric frowned and glanced to Rylan, who appeared very skeptical, before looking back to Kara. "Don't make any sudden motions and come here slowly."

Kara did as she was instructed. She took long, but slow steps and tried to appear like she was defeated; she didn't have to pretend she was scared, though, because she was.

"That's probably close enough." Rylan said to her. "It's really nothing personal, Kara."

She took one more step further. Cedric's arm twitched, but she met his gaze with all the fear that she truly felt inside and he didn't move to strike her yet.

"It's different when I'm not fighting back, isn't it?" Kara said and continued to look Cedric in the eyes. "Millie was a threat; she was casting when Rylan took her words from her mouth. And when you did what you did to make sure she didn't say anymore after."

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

"Close your eyes, Kara," Cedric said, using her first name for the first time. "I wouldn't do this if I didn't have to."

"Okay," Kara said and swallowed.

She took just one more step forward, getting Cedric within arm's reach and Rylan almost directly beside her. She closed her eyes.

She couldn't see it, but Cedric hesitated and slowly reaimed his hand at her again. Just like she'd hoped he would. She her his lightning aura begin to crackle and pop as it charged on his palm.

[Flame-inheritance] was a powerful trait, one Kara had worked her entire childhood to earn. Along with allowing her to split her signs to form her family's signature flame threads, it allowed her mana-control attribute to act as if it was two tiers higher when she was using fire-affinity magic. The trait did have its major drawbacks, but it was powerful. In this moment, specifically, because mana-control was the attribute that governed sigil casting time.

Kara made a flame sign.

She had already raised her arm towards Rylan and fired off her [flame lance] at him before Cedric could fully order his lightning aura to charge another bolt atop his palm.

The beautiful concentrated mass of burning mana truly looked like a super-heated, ornate spear as it flew from Kara's sigil. And it ripped through Rylan's right arm as he made a sign of wind. The wind mage's sign failed to amount to anything as he fell to the ground, gasping.

Kara had been watching her pursuers carefully the entire time they'd been trying to kill her; she'd also watched them carefully when they'd killed Millie.

Cedric's lightning aura, while it may have been able to form into attacks quickly, could not strike as fast as a spell sigil from Kara could. The fire mage knew this because she'd been trying to get a feel for Cedric's limitations the entire time he'd been openly demonstrating them.

Kara made another flame sign, the moment her spear was cast, and sent five burning cords to wrap around Cedric's arm. The cords found purchase on the boy as he was only a millisecond away from blasting a hole through her. She yanked her own weight down, redirecting Cedric's own casting arm away from her.

Cedric's lighting blast was released harmlessly into the earth.

Kara prepared to raise her other hand up to cast a spell sigil.

Cedric's lightning aura flashed, resurging and crackling against the glowing, superheated cords on his arms.

Kara stumbled back as her cords were dissipated by the disrupting energy of Cedric's electricity and she lost a hold on his body. If she'd had time to put more mana into her sign, Cedric would have been as arm-deprived as Rylan was. But, as it was, the young prodigy only had a badly burned forearm.

A blast of wind hit her next, knocking her all the way to the ground. Rylan's face was a mess of pain; his only functioning hand grasped right back to his charred and mangled arm as soon as he'd finished casting at Kara. He was on a knee now, shaking with focused eyes.

Cedric drew an arming sword from his scabbard. His aura resurged and extended to sheathe his blade in crackling mana. He then, taking no further chances, raised his free hand and started to funnel his aura into another bolt of power.

***

It was the night before the battle royale, after my talk with Rosaria. She winced as she stood up from the squared, wooden chest we'd been sitting upon.

"Are you hurt?" I asked her.

I was exhausted, but my druidic aura was already reaching out before Rosaria could respond. My mana spread through her body and I sensed the damage she'd received. Her left quad was rather damaged, torn, and punctured; there was also the smallest trace of another creature's life force in the wound.

"A little. I should be seeing a healer tomorrow," Rosaria said. "Are you using your magic on me right now? My leg feels prickly."

"I'm sorry; I was just worried," I said. "I can heal it for you."

Rosaria shook her head. "The squires went on a hunt tonight. I wasn't the only one who got hurt. I don't want it healed until everyone else is taken care of too."

"Right, but—" I frowned. "I want to help you."

She smiled at me. "I'll be okay, Pery. Bastion himself re-wrapped it when we got back, and the host's medic applied a salve."

Now that she mentioned it, my druidic aura was picking up on the signatures of mixed herbs mingling with Rosaria's own. It was subtle, and the only individual plant I could pick out in the ointment's various notes was that of winter moss—a mild analgesic.

"Are you sure?" I asked her.

"I'm sure," she said.

I allowed my druidic aura to dissipate.

Rosaria retrieved the candlestick she had presumably lit before I'd arrived from beside herself.

"Come on; what I want to give you is in my room," she said and indicated for me to follow.

I followed her through the halls of Bastion and Samantha's manor. Even with the candlelight, it was dark going, but the hallways were all built around windows designed to catch as much of the moons' light as was possible, and we could just barely see our way.

Rosaria opened the door to her bedchambers, and I followed her inside.

Her room was orderly. As she sat the candlestick down on her standing dresser, the light illuminated a bundle of cloth. Around the bundle rested various bone and wood statuettes, some in half-completed states.

"Dad taught you this," I said, and lifted a small carving of a saint I knew Rosaria had a special relationship with. "I'm glad you're still doing it."

"It helps me relax if I can't sleep or if I'm resting around," she admitted.

"You've gotten really good," I said and turned the carving of the saint in my hand.

I noticed a flicker of satisfaction flicker over her face when I looked back up at her. "That's Saint Merissa; I was really happy with how her face came out. The knights say it's good to have an artistic pursuit. They make us read some too, but probably not as much as you have to."

I placed the figurine down. "I can't imagine Bastion being all that artistic."

Rosaria chuckled in a small way. "It's not exactly a requirement, just recommended. This is what I wanted to give you."

She unwrapped the top of the bundle of cloth on her dresser and stepped aside.

What I saw was a rough-edged stone with large veins of metallic bronze running through it.

"Is that a bronze core?" I asked her. "Did you get that on your hunt?"

"Arthic and the others told me I deserved it," she said. "I wanted to refuse, but... I also didn't."

Rosaria had always been hungry for strength. But unlike how I felt compelled out of obligation as much as nature to become more powerful, she had always seemed to simply love the thrill of growing strong.

"I couldn't take that," I said. "What would your friends think?"

"I can't use it yet anyway," she admitted. "I need twenty more points in brawn to be able to absorb a bronze core. You said you could now, right?"

"I could," I said. "But. I don't think I should."

Somehow, growing stronger off of Rosaria's work felt wrong.

"Pery," Rosaria said. "Just take it. You're ruining this."

"Ruining what?" I asked her.

"Pery," she scolded me.

"It just feels—"

"You're going to let your family help you protect yourself," she interrupted me; she had a commanding look in her eye. "Whether you want to or not. That's how it works."

I wasn't so sure. Not after what had happened with dad. No one could've expected me to be strong enough to protect everyone from the daemon who'd bound Perenine; I wasn't even logically mad at myself for being weak. But logic and expectations didn't matter from what I could tell. From everything I'd seen, you were either strong enough when you needed to be or you weren't. And no one else had been able to make me strong enough when I'd needed to be.

"Thank you," I told her.

Rosaria sighed. "You're welcome, Pery. Go ahead."

I reached out for the gift she'd given me. I glanced at Rosaria to make sure she wasn't regretting giving up the core at the last moment before I touched it.

The instant my fingertips touched the monster core, I felt the thin barrier between my own life-force and its energies grow thinner. With some nervousness, I let that barrier lapse and a flood of energy rushed into me.

The power inherent in the core rushed up my arm, surging my own life-force into euphoria as it went. When the energy hit my soulcore, I felt foreign impulses moving into my thoughts. I suddenly felt larger, much larger; every sinew I had felt like it'd been transformed into corded iron, every bone felt heavier. Flashes of fangs and brutal fights for supremacy flashed before my mind's eye.

The strange memories faded as quickly as they came, however, as my soulcore began to eat away at the power of the monster core. My heart went mad with energy and started to beat obscenely fast in a way my absorbing of other cores had never replicated. But there was still no pain.

I grasped for the edge of Rosaria's dresser.

My soulcore pulsed suddenly in time with the largest beat of my heart yet, sending a wave of expanding life-force out into every muscle in my body.

I felt the muscles swell, bulge, and burn. for a moment, I was afraid I'd be torn asunder by the expanding energy my core was now producing. But then my heart caught itself mid-spasm and regained a semblance of rhythm. My muscles shrunk back to their normal size, deflating again as the heightened state I was in began to pass. But I instinctively knew the difference in my body's capabilities was so much greater than before.

[Your Brawn attribute has ascended to the competent level.]

"Pery? Are you okay?" Rosaria asked me in way that hinted that it wasn't the first time she'd said my name without me responding.

"I'm alright," I said. "That was a lot. I couldn't imagine trying to do that without having maxed my novice points out first."

"Did it hurt?" she asked.

"No, it felt amazing, but also like I just barely held myself together," I answered. "Maybe you really do die if you try to do it before you're ready."

"I don't think I'd like to see it to find out," Rosaria said. "Do you feel stronger?"

I let my hand leave her dresser. I did feel stronger. A lot stronger. It was surreal.

"It feels like I'm twice as strong as before," I said. "It really is a big difference. I mean, it's different than just training normally. All the novice cores I absorbed made my muscles themselves feel stronger; breaking through like that made the life-force inside them feel just more concentrated."

"Good," Rosaria said. "You do know you still have to keep yourself healthy though, right? That your attributes only multiply what your body can naturally do?"

I nodded. "I know."

She crossed her arms. "It's just that you just haven't been sleeping much. You leave before I do and come home after I'm already asleep."

"You weren't asleep tonight."

"I waited for you."

She was genuinely concerned for me. There was a reason her life-force always felt a bit like the fluff on a cat's ears when I touched upon it with my magic. Of course, the core of her life-force underneath that fluff also felt like iron actively being heated in a forge, but.

"Thank you again. I really mean it," I said. "Talking to you is nice."

"We need to keep doing it," she said.

"We will; I'll make time. I promise."

She nodded. "Okay, but right now you need to make time to go to bed to get some sleep. No reading books in your head. Actual sleep."

***

We hadn't been hunting Cedric. Garron and I had almost gone the other way when we saw him through the thick foliage. However, when it proved to be Kara that we saw him preparing to execute, my partner and I had needed to exchange no words to both leap into action.

We would've been too late. If our friend hadn't proven she was even smarter than we thought, or maybe just more manipulative. Kara surprised her would-be killers with a sudden attack before they could finish her off and gave us just enough time to get closer. And for my druidic aura to be in range of her, Rylan, and Cedric.

I poured [growth] and [direct flora] into a tree root near Cedric's leg. At my verbal command, the root exploded upwards and yanked the blonde's leg and pulled him away from Kara.

Garron summoned a spell sigil and sent an earth spike flying directly at Rylan.

I watched as Cedric redirected his cloak of electricity back over his body and down his leg; the concentrated static exploded off of his robes a moment later. The living wood that had ensnared him burst into charred bits. I felt the root's mother tree wail in agony through my own aura as it felt itself be sundered so.

Cedric turned towards where Garron's earth spike and my chanting had come from. I saw the recognition in his eyes as spotted us. The blonde looked perturbed, but he made the tactical decision to back up and move towards Rylan, while keeping his eyes darting to Kara as she came to stand shakily.

Following him breaking the root away from his leg, Cedric's cloak of static took a few moments to seep back out of his body. When it did, he lifted his hand towards all of us, but he notably did not divert power from his reformed lightning aura to funnel it onto his outstretched palm.

Garron fired another earth spike at Cedric, but a subsequent blast of wind from a now barely standing Rylan slowed the spike enough for Cedric to side-step the projectile as it lost momentum and cracked into pieces on the forest floor.

Kara, meanwhile, backed away from her enemies towards us; I saw in the corner of my eye that she looked pale and that her steps were staggered.

Garron and I slowed to stand in front of Kara, one of us off to either of her sides. Our weapons were ready as Cedric and Rylan stared us down.

"Borncrest," Cedric said my surname with a sound of distaste, as his cloak of power crackled a bit stronger around him and his arming sword.