“You need to disqualify him!” Edward yelled, his voice echoing through the mostly empty throne room. His footsteps further ruined the grand space’s quietness as he paced between the walls.

Queen Mercer sat on her throne, and her husband, Lord Gedge, occupied the seat next to her. A third presence lingered around them but Nox failed to spot anyone else. His acute mana sense detected a third signature hovering around them. After the match, the queen summoned the competitors and the referee for a private meeting. Nox couldn’t be sure why, but Mou had joined them, too. He appreciated her presence but couldn’t fathom why the queen wanted her around. His aunt ranked high in the Alchemist’s faction but wasn’t their leader.

“On what grounds?” Queen Mercer asked.

“He cheated. That Artisan’s Arm was far beyond ordinary. How could a mere alchemist’s apprentice afford the materials and runework necessary for—”

“I looked it over,” the referee said, interrupting Edward. “Besides a handful of extra runes, it's a standard Artisan’s Arm.”

“That’s impossible,” Lord Gedge stated. He spoke with a neutral tone and kept his face expressionless, but the man’s eyes betrayed his scorn. “That tool has been weaponized.”

“I’ll happily share my alterations with everyone in the Trade Empire,” Nox said. He shrugged, casting a cantrip as he approached the Artisan’s Arm on the table between them. An ethereal hand manifested an inch over his palm. When he held it against the artificed device, the hand slipped into the machine, and it stirred to life, rising like a snake and moving with the same fluidity. “I adapted the Mage Hand cantrip to control it. It might take a few years of practice, but I’m sure even Edward could pull it off.”

“Then what about all of his potions?” Edward hissed, kicking over a chair. “You expect me to believe he made those himself, bought the ingredients with zero help, and then carried them throughout the competition?”

“I’m sorry, Master Edward, but that’s what our records say,” the referee replied, tapping the thick sheaf of paper next to the Artisan’s Arm. “We’ve received purchase records, expedition briefs, and workshop usage notes signed by many alchemists for the past six months. Personally, I thought Master Ratra’s efforts were overboard and unnecessary until he submitted his inventory before the Trial of Survival.” The middle-aged man looked up at the queen. “I tried to talk him out of carrying such an unnecessary load into the competition, but he refused to listen.”

“I’ve got to cover my shortcomings somehow,” Nox replied. “Edward has his fancy training and university education. I’m just using everything I have in my arsenal.”

“Was victory not enough?” Lord Gedge asked. An angry vein threatened to burst free of his temple and strangle everyone in the vicinity. “Why did you need to humiliate my son?”

Nox smiled. “I sincerely apologize, Lord Gedge.” The words dripped with insincerity. “It was an unfortunate side-effect, that’s all. I only intended to market my creations and find clients with deep pockets. Alchemical research and expeditions into the wild don’t come cheap, you know. Now, people will talk about what just happened, and I’ll have the means to fund my own workshop and eventually leave the kingdom.”

“You should’ve respected the tournament then, son.” Mou sighed, placing a hand on Nox’s shoulder. “There are better marketing methods—”

“Not without the senior alchemists stonewalling me or trying to get my recipes,” Nox replied.

“How could you let this happen, Mou?” Queen Mercer asked. She sounded more tired than furious. “You’re supposed to contain his self-destructive tendencies. Expeditions off the island? Really? Do you want him to end up like his father?”

“You mean your last husband and supposed true love?” Nox lost control over his calm tone and volume for a moment. The words carried more venom than he initially intended. “The man whose child you callously threw away after his passing?”

“Don’t you dare speak to my wife in that tone of voice!” Lord Gedge exclaimed. His words sounded more like an animalistic snarl. Nox could see where Edward got his natural toxicity and penchant for vitriol.

“My mother is queen first and your wife second. She can speak for herself, my lord. Why don’t you warm your chair as you’re supposed to and stay out of this?”

“How dare you—”

“Enough!” Everyone felt silent when Queen Mercer raised her voice. She glared at Nox. “I won’t have you take that tone with my husband.” Then she turned to Lord Gedge. “And he’s right. I can speak for myself and handle this situation. You know better than to speak for your queen.”

Lord Gedge clenched his jaw, eyes darting between his wife and stepson. Then he nodded and sat back in his chair. Edward stared open mouth at Queen Mercer and his father, appearing lost for words.

“Yes, Nox. I mean my former husband and my first love. Do you know that before you, he listened to my pleas and stayed on the island? If not for your begging, he would’ve never repeatedly defied me to visit dangerous ruins and forests. After a decade out of combat, he should’ve never ventured into a region where chances of a dungeon emergence were high.”

“You turned him into a prisoner,” Nox said.

Queen Mercer continued, ignoring his interruption. “If he remained on the Golden Isles as I requested, he wouldn’t have gotten caught in the godfall and died. I know you hate me for your current circumstances, Nox. You need to realize, though, they’re of your own making.”

“He was six!” Mou exclaimed. “You can’t blame a six-year-old for wanting to see things! You can’t blame a six-year-old for his father’s death.”

Queen Mercer ignored her, too. “You’re twenty-two, Nox. I expect you to know better by now. I have an empire to run. I did what I had to for the sake of our people and to keep you out of harm’s way after your father died. Why can’t you just listen to your mother?”

“Because Mou has been more of a mother to me than you ever were,” Nox answered. “You’ve ignored my existence since I was six. Then kicked me out for your fool of a husband and bully of a stepson before I even turned ten. What makes you think I owe you anything?”

“I’m your mother and, more importantly, your queen. Stop your nonsense and do your job as an alchemist as you’re supposed to.”

“No.”

Queen Mercer sighed, throwing her head back against her throne. Her husband and stepson launched a barrage of insults at Nox, but he tuned it out like the ambient noise in the Gilded Alchemists’ workshops. Instead, he glared at his mother, waiting for whatever she had to say next.

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“Everyone except Nox, get out,” Queen Mercer commanded, sounding exasperated. All but her husband obeyed immediately. She had to nudge the man with her foot to make him move.

“What is it you want?” She asked once they were alone.

“I’ve already told you what I’m after,” Nox replied.

“No. Your long-term goals.”

“Freedom. I want to be free of you and your rule so I can make a life for myself outside the trade empire.”

“Why?”

“Why?” Nox raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean why? You discarded me as soon as you could, and your husband and new children make my life miserable. I gave up on expecting anything of you long ago, Mother. All I want is a life free of your rule and out of your new family’s reach. Is that too much to ask for?”

“You want to go after the god that killed your father, don’t you? It’s a dungeon even archons fear, Nox. You’re going to get yourself killed.”

“Please. After sixteen years of being a mother in nothing but name, don’t pretend to care.”

Nox wasn’t sure why he felt the burning need to antagonize his mother. It wouldn’t benefit him in any way. For some reason, he wanted nothing more than to see anything besides her forever-placid facial expression or fake public-facing persona. Nox wanted his mother to speak to him as Mou did with compassion or any sort of emotion. He got none of what he wanted from Queen Mercer.

“I want you to forfeit the tournament,” she said after a long silence. “You might’ve gotten away with humiliating Edward, but I can’t allow you to do the same with Louis.”

“Why? Because you want him to lead the empire’s army someday? You can’t have his image tarnished so young.”

“Precisely. He’s far too vital to our military stability. I’ve seen his arsenal, and the Tarth girl will prove no challenge. You, on the other hand, are a wild card, and I’m not a gambling woman. What will it take for you to forfeit?”

“I want a gold token on top of all the rewards I’ve won thus far.”

“Fine,” Queen Mercer replied. It surprised Nox that she agreed without any argument. The prize vaults were overflowing with rewards, and the queen had proven miser when it came to handing out its contents. Her swift agreement proved how much she wanted to protect Louis’s image. Nox refused to admit it—even to himself—but the revelation wounded him deeply. “However, I'm going to void the bet between you and Edward. He's going to be a pain if he doesn't get anything out of this. You’re never to share our bargain with anyone. If you do, I won’t just confiscate whatever the gold token gets you but everything else. Do you accept my terms?”

“I do, Mother,” Nox replied, putting on a sweet smile for the queen.

“I’ll arrange for your freedom, too. I promise you that. There’s no point in keeping you bound to the empire if you feel no bond or loyalty towards it.”

----------------------------------------

Because of her performance in the first couple of trials, the bookmakers favored Elyza Tarth. At twenty years of age, she had already served in the second convoy’s defensive forces for half a decade. Like most in her faction, she likely started her training young and had more experience than her opponent. Nox could think of no better focus than Haste for someone of her capabilities. At its base, it hastened one’s basic speed and reaction time.

There was a time when Nox considered it as the concept for his star. It was the antithesis of Slow and perfect for someone that suffered from his limitations. Unfortunately, Nox had little talent for melee combat. It was still tempting since he had read accounts of mages picking air or something flammable as the focus of their planetoid. They used Haste to accelerate the material’s constituent parts and ignite it. The casters eventually became masters of flame or explosion. Nox wondered whether Elyza had similar plans.

She charged at Louis as soon as their match began, moving almost as fast as a sprinting horse. Elyza held her shield in front of her, covering everything from the tip of her nose to her knees. Her spear remained perfectly parallel to the ground as she ran. She reached Louis before he could react and thrust her weapon into his gut. No triangular wards appeared to protect him. Instead, Elyza skewered Queen Mercer’s prized son.

Then pink flames burst from his eyes, nostrils, mouth, and all other orifices. It spread across his skin, and then his body exploded in a puff of similarly colored smoke.

Nox felt a pang of jealousy. Fae Fire was a difficult cantrip to master, and not many had an affinity with it. The flames emanated little heat but had the power to muddle minds and confuse the senses. However, making the most of it required a large mana zone since Fae Fire proved most useful at mid-to-long ranges, making it beyond Nox’s capabilities even if affinities lined up.

Elyza didn’t stand around. She slid several feet sideways with just a kick of her right foot, drawing an impressed chorus from the audience. Nox hypothesized it was a creative use of the Grease cantrip. He guessed the young woman had no aspirations of magehood and planned on walking the path of an Aether Warrior.

A rapier emerged from a mote of pink flame and thrust through where she had stood moments ago. The air rippled. It felt as if Nox was looking through the fumes above a boiling cauldron. When it cleared, Louis emerged. Bits of Fae Fire clung to him. He moved swiftly, swinging his rapier. The tip appeared to cut the air, leaving a trail of pink flames in his wake. They arranged themselves, forming a complicated network of spell circles and runes. He drew the primary shapes and symbols. The connecting lines and remaining syntax appeared out of thin air.

Elyza spun on her heel and charged at him. She didn’t just run but slid along the ground, and frequent kicks sped her up further. The sections where the convoy sat cheered as she accelerated, closing in on Louis with every passing second. She skewered Louis, and he again exploded into a plume of pink flames. Instead of disappearing altogether, the fire dispersed and then grew into humanoid shapes. It solidified a heartbeat later, and four copies of him stood around Elyza.

All four Louises lunged in unison. Elyza ducked behind her shield, swinging her spear in a wide arc. The two she struck exploded and disappeared, while the other two struck her back and right side. Elyza’s first protection ward shattered.

Queen Mercer’s prediction proved correct. Despite Elyza’s skill and experience, she failed to find and strike Louis. He attacked her methodically, leaving shallow cuts, piercing joints, and occasionally stabbing vitals. Elyza learned from her mistakes and put her best foot forward. Unfortunately, she only delayed the inevitable. It took Louis five minutes to destroy her remaining wards, and all of his remained untouched.

The convoys appeared unimpressed. They preferred more direct attacks since they had people and goods to protect and worked in large formations. Elyza’s training hadn’t prepared her for someone like Louis.

“I forfeit,” Nox told the referee half an hour later when the time for the final came.

“What?” He asked.

“I’d like to forfeit,” Nox repeated himself. “I’m not winning against Louis.” It wasn’t true. A combination of smoke pellets full of neurotoxins and hardening foam would’ve made quick work of the illusionist. “My tools are no good against his magic. So why waste the time? I’m still in good shape and mostly uninjured. A good rest and a hot meal is what I’d like.”

The referee's enchantments had expanded before Nox replied. It projected everything he said across the arena, and a stream of disapproving hoots, insults, and worse followed.

“You've made a mockery of this tournament!” Queen Mercer exclaimed, rising from her seat. Enchantments amplified her voice for all to hear. “First, you insulted me and then made a joke out of the trial. Now you want to forfeit because it's too much trouble? Do our ways mean so little to you?”

“No, Mother,” Nox replied, struggling not to sound sarcastic or deadpan. He wondered whether the public admonishment would help ease Edward’s humiliation. “I recognize Louis, your heir, as my superior. Going against an illusionist with a bow and a mana zone as small as mine is pointless. I’d like to take all the rewards I’ve accumulated thus far and move on.”

“Silence!” The booing ceased even though the queen didn’t raise her volume. Only the sections seating the production houses didn’t spit vitriol. “It shames me that people know I carried you, Nox Ratra.” A heavy silence hung over the arena. A choked sob rose from somewhere in the crowd. “You defy orders and venture into the wild, risking our secrets. You make a mockery out of our ways. I see no choice besides banishment and the revoking of trade privileges. You won’t ever benefit from my name or gain beneficial rates from any affiliated merchants or traders. Take your rewards and begone.”

Queen Mercer kept her word. She used unexpected means to fulfill her promise, but the woman had done it. Nox had his freedom. It came out of the blue, and he wasn’t sure how to react besides staring at her dumbfounded. Yet he wanted to thank the woman. Nox worried about how Mou would see things, but he felt relieved.