The sweet taste of victory immediately soured the moment the game finished and Sia was "assisted" to the infirmary by Sky.

There, as the djinn regaled the healer with her heroic deeds, Sia was forced to sit still and quiet as they dug a dull arrowhead out of her shoulder. The task was worsened by how the healer flinched every time Sia as much as winced, before firing off rapid-pace apologies and mini-bursts of healing magic. Static charged her fingers, singing the cot, as she urged herself to remain calm.

"--and so, with my ever-present selflessness, I decided the best move was to help Sia forward!"

I'm going to kill her.

Despite Sia's best efforts to the contrary, the pressure in the room seemed to weigh heavier by the second as her mana slipped from her grasp. The healer finally finished and placed a bandage over the newly formed skin. Sia could hear a door open behind her, but she didn't risk looking lest the movement caught Sky's attention. If the djinn addressed her directly, there was no guarantee Sky wouldn't end up in the infirmary bed next to her.

"That's why I cleared the way with my skill. Of course, it turned into a sacrifice since there were too many mirrors. But--in the end--it earned Sia her victory."

The healer muttered an excuse about needing to report her health, before the door opened and shut once again. Somehow, it didn't stop Sky's boasting as she retraced her tale to the beginning for her new audience.

Sia's stressed fingers carded through her hair, drawing a hiss from her lips as they caught on one of the no doubt hundreds of glass shards buried in her locks. Mentally cursing Sky--using perhaps a few more of the fae curses that she'd picked up from Oren than was appropriate--Sia busied herself with picking the glass out of her finger, then returning her hand to her hair to cautiously pick out more.

"So, really, it was a team effort."

It took everything she had to focus on the bits of mirror piling on the cot next to her, and not the growing weight of her magic.

"Let me get this straight."

Gideon's voice dragged her eyes from the sheets. He'd paused a few feet in from the doorway, violin still in hand, and a heavy frown on his lips. Next to him, Hawthorne stood with an arm pressed heavily against his side. Sia studied it with a narrow gaze.

Were they here for her, or because of their own games?

"You were warned that destroying the mirrors would result in disqualification, and yet you did it anyway?"

Satisfaction flooded Sia veins even as Sky's shoulders thrust back in that familiar, stubborn manner. The threat in Gideon's frame was enough. Any intelligent person would be able to tell how pissed he was. Sky--however--wasn't S-Rank because she was smart. She wouldn't back down until it was too late for Gideon's slow flaring temper. Good.

Sia might not have been able to touch her, but Gideon--an A-Rank for a good reason--stood a much better chance at knocking sense into the djinn's head.

"They didn't say disqualification exactly," Sky argued.

Sia stuck her finger to her lips as her immediate, irritated flinch earned her another cut. "They did."

Her dry tone earned her an eye roll from Sky. "Not exactly. They said it was a penalty to our scores. They didn't tell us until after I had already done it that when you hit zero you're disqualified."

Sia raised her hand to pinch the bridge of her nose. "Waverly told us."

"Waverly talks like a researcher," Sky argued. "I don't understand half of what she says."

That's not the argument you think it is.

"Regardless, you knew it would lose points," Gideon cut in. His bow shifted across his frame, tapping lightly at the strings of his instrument. It was a rhythm Sia recognized more from his performances than combat. The tense line of his shoulders, however, was telling. What little patience had left was rapidly disappearing. "You deliberately pulled a stunt that would lose you points. A reckless, foolhardy stunt that injured your teammate, as well. And you ended the game without earning any points for the guild yourself."

Hawthorne winced, leaning away from Gideon. The movement drew her attention down to his arm again, even as she sympathized with his wariness. Gideon so rarely got angry with anyone from the guild that most people--incorrectly--assumed this side of him didn't exist. He was the mild-mannered older brother, a talented bard, and a talented adventurer, but not a threat.

They'd be wrong. Like any true mage, Gideon was dangerous when he wanted to be.

Sky eyed him for a moment, before rolling her eyes. Her arms piled over her chest. "Four other people had already passed, what was I supposed to do? Wait until both of us got barely any points? Besides, she would have been fine--no injuries from me, at least--if she didn't cover for that kid at the end."

"Whom you didn't warn," Sia snapped.

"He was from another guild."

"A kid from another guild."

Sky sighed. "Point is, this way Sia got more points than we would have gotten individually."

The irritation in Gideon's voice raised an octave. "Even if you hadn't placed in the top ten, you would have earned a fair amount of points, Sky. More than zero, at the very least. Your actions have put Starry Rose at a disadvantage, which puts more pressure on Rhett, Waverly, Lock and Cross going forward."

Gods, Gideon was right. Waverly wouldn't mind all that much, but at this rate Cross--at the very least, if not also Rhett--would have a slow break-down. It wasn't obvious, but he stressed as much as anyone else about the idea of living up to the guild's expectations of him. After being paired with Lock--whom everyone knew Cross looked up to, to a frankly surprising degree--he'd already be on edge. This was just icing on the cake.

At least Lock was steadfast. He'd keep the demon from doing anything too reckless.

"Did you miss the part where it wasn't intentional?" Sky retorted. "It was an unintentional sacrifice. It's not like I thought they would disqualify me for something so little."

You shattered every mirror between us and the finish line, Sia thought. She bit her tongue, though, as she could feel the atmospheric pressure in the room further creeping up. Magic swelled around her. So, instead of rejoining the conversation, she pointedly returned to cleaning her hair, then her shoulders, of mirror shards.

"Gids," Hawthorne interrupted. "Sia did get fifth. That's good! Let's focus on celebrating that, alright?" She could feel his eyes turn back to her. "You should be proud, Sia. How'd you manage navigating the mirrors, anyway? I'd have been lost in there if it were just me."

She reluctantly glanced up from her task, eye slowly skimming Hawthrone again, before she offered a slow smile. His beaming grin was--unfortunately--always infectious. "I took a page from Rhett's book. Used the wind. Well, for the first half. We ran into some trouble midway, which was the first time Sky broke the mirrors--"

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

"--to rescue you from your bitch self!"

Sia ignored her. "--so there was a portion where we didn't need to worry about it. Then, we picked up with the wind again, until we ran into a kid from Polar Fox." She paused, furrowing her brow as she realized they'd left out a key point of information. "His partner finished immediately. I have no clue what her magic was--but, she couldn't have been older than fifteen."

Meaning, there was less of a chance of her being amazing at what common magic she had--practice took time, even with genius--than her using an uncommon magic that suited the maze well. There was a chance Sia's assumption was wrong, but she was willing to bet she wasn't. Seeming to think the same Hawthorne furrowed his brow.

"Anyways, we ran into her partner who seemed...stressed. I think he's a cleric to some fire god, because he accidentally burnt me, then immediately healed it." Which said a lot. Even Sia couldn't cast healing spells that quickly, and she'd learned from a high priest. "Before taking off. We followed him for a bit, since standing behind his fire seemed smarter than chancing being in front of it again. Then, Sky..."

"Saved the day!"

Sia grimaced. "...you already know the rest. How did your game go?"

"It was more straightforward than yours," Hawthorne admitted. "They'd set up this castle? Thing? In the middle of a small forest, with a channel of water running through it. Teleported us to random locations on the field as soon as it started, so we had to find our partners while fighting with other competitors."

She tried to imagine the setting and failed for the most part. Gods, the royal family must have sunk so much gold into the magic that had gone into the arena's alone. It made her wallet hurt just recalling the fact that there were two more games to go.

"I got stranded in the forest, Hawthorne in the castle structure. Aside from the separation, it was really just smaller battles with the other teams," Gideon added. He bent over, and only then did Sia realize that at some point he'd rested his violin case against his feet down. The instrument was returned to its case, before settling on the floor once again. He started unbuttoning the cuffs of his singed sleeves. "The Foxes took first in our game, too. Knox, the purple-haired one, is a shifter. Tiger. Unnaturally strong and fast, from what I gathered."

His words prompted concern to flicker to life in Sia's chest. Her eyes cut between Gideon and Hawthorne, returning to her earlier task of assessing their states. Gideon looked a bit rough, bruises here and there, but no heavy injuries. She was willing to bet he'd ache in the morning, but nothing more. Hawthorne, however...that arm still bothered her.

"Any injuries?"

Seeming to note her concern, Hawthorne shook his head. Even before he opened his mouth, the grin on his lips told her she wasn't going to trust whatever he said. "Nope! Some bruises, maybe, but nothing too bad."

Gideon shot Hawthorne a look and Sia immediately knew she'd been right.

"I'm fine." Gideon rolled up his sleeves to reveal pristine skin, unmarked aside from a small bruise that was just beginning to show on his forearm. "No one got too close, and the hits I did take were minor. This one, on the other hand—"

Hawthorne offered a sheepish smile as Gideon leaned over to pry his arm away from his side. Wet crimson coated the inside of his arm and darkened his jacket, and through the rips in the fabric puncture marks from the tiger's claws were acutely visible. It was bloody and gruesome--and she had no idea how he was still standing so calmly.

"He'd have lost an arm if he hadn't blocked Knox, but he still got injured. He's just an idiot who doesn't want to burden you."

"Fuck," Sky cursed. "I'll see if the healer's still around."

The djinn disappeared into the hallway as Sia shot him a look, the pressure in the room becoming much more obvious than it was before. Glass forgotten, she scooted over on the cot, before pointedly gesturing beside her.

"I'm here for a reason, Hawthorne," she informed him. "And that's not just to participate. Sit down."

"You have your own injuries," he countered, "and I'd rather not treat you as... as a personal healer. You should save your magic for the tourney. If the healer doesn't return before the next match, I can ask Master for one of her salves, I know Lock was carrying a case of her usual remedies when we got on the train."

Gideon merely rolled his eyes and settled his back against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest. Clearly, his opinions of the issue mirrored Sia's. She sighed, her growing impatience reflecting in the increased pressure around Hawthorne specifically. Her magic trickled through her with the sort of ease that only came through simmering emotion.

"Hawthorne. In case you didn't catch it the first time, I didn't have to use all that much magic. And we're done for the day. So. Sit down, or be sat down. Those are your options right now. "

Seeming to realize that perhaps pushing her any further wasn't wise, Hawthorne gingerly climbed to his feet before shuffling across the space left between them. He immediately set to peeling away the sodden fabric from his wound, offering Sia a clear view of the injuries. The pressure on their shoulders eased as she found a place to focus her jittery magic. It collected over her fingertips, giving them a faint glow as she murmured a soft prayer.

"I'm sorry," Hawthorne said quietly. "I'm not trying to be difficult, you know? I just..." He shrugged lightly. "Don't think it's worth the fuss."

Sia reached for his side.

"I know," she murmured in turn. Her fingers gingerly felt out the skin, before settling along the first of the gashes. "But, while it might not be worth it now, how will it be later? Or tomorrow? Were you planning on potentially fighting the same Fox, already wounded? What if those salves she brought along with her are needed when I'm not perfectly capable of healing you myself? It's all well and good to be brave and tough it up, but it's also just as good to let someone help."

Plus, it meant she had less magic to potentially unleash on Sky should the djinn open her mouth again.

A relieved sigh escaped Hawthorne's lips as the wound slowly closed. Then, he laughed. "You're right, you're right. I'll work on being less stubborn, okay? But promise me you'll think about yourself if you do end up using too much magic in a duel? Master did bring those salves for a reason."

Sia hummed agreeably, slipping her fingers along the next portion of torn skin as she let her magic sink in. The remaining pressure in the room lessened to nothing as more of her wayward magic was given somewhere to focus.

"I promise. I'm not the martyr sort. I'm not going to use all my mana and leave myself nothing to win with," she replied, voice slipping into teasing. "I'm taking care of you now, but if it's between my win and yours, I'm taking mine."

It wasn't the complete truth. If Hawthorne got injured and magic was the thing between him and continuing, she'd always use the magic. That was an if situation, though, not a current one. And, for what it mattered, the latter half of her words were solid. She held no intention of exhausting herself--not with only one round finished.

Hawthorne laughed again, bright and happy. "Alright, I'll make sure not to get myself too injured, then."

"It's a good thing you favor that shield," Gideon remarked. "Otherwise you'd have far more scars than you currently do."

"I'm not that reckless," Hawthorne said, pouting.

Sia sighed. She didn't have to point out the issue with his assessment, however. Gideon had her covered. "Reckless isn't quite the word for it. But you do have a tendency to put yourself in dangerous situations for the sake of others."

"That's what I'm meant to do," Hawthorne said, "isn't it? We're Roses—we do what we can to help, always."

He wasn't wrong. Despite their reputation, the majority of Roses were helpless martyrs. It drove a healer like Sia crazy. She'd patched up more unrepentant adventurers who insisted that throwing themselves in front of a crazy mage or monster had been their only choice in the last three years than she'd ever done the sixteen prior.

"That's true," Gideon agreed. "It's something Varya's carried over from the previous Master. But your issue is that you try to take everything onto your own shoulders. But," he added, waving a hand dismissively, "that's not what this is about. You're hurt, and Sia is capable of helping. Just be grateful she's here."

Hawthorne bit his lip, before flashing another bright grin at her. He must have decided to leave the topic there for now. "Thank you. We're lucky to have you with us, Sia."

She flushed, before focusing on finishing off the last of the injury, her magic pressing deeper to make sure nothing below the surface had been missed.

"You're welcome," Sia mumbled. "And...Gideon's right. Keep that promise, Hawthorne. Don't get too hurt. I won't be helping you out if it's your own fault."

A lie--an especially see-through one. But, one she was giving nevertheless.

"And thanks." Finished, she stood and self-consciously rubbed her fingers off against the skirt of her dress. "Shall we go watch the others?"

Hawthorne brushed his fingers over the now-closed wounds, seemingly satisfied that it no longer hurt, then stood as well.

"Yeah, let's go sit with Master and everyone else," he suggested as Gideon joined them. "I'm sure Sage'll be bursting with questions about the games."

"You'll have to show Ilias you've been healed, too," Gideon said. "He'll be morose if he thinks you've been gravely injured."

Gideon had a point—the last time Hawthorne had come back from a job with Sky, Ilias had been convinced the paladin was going to die for two days straight, even after Sia and Master had worked their collective magic on him.

"I'll sit with him, then," Hawthorne said. "You can answer Sage's questions."

"Fine by me."

"I'm sitting by Oren," Sia told them, in case there was ever any doubt. Afterall, Oren wouldn't be anywhere near the djinn. "And if Sky talks to me, she's getting shocked."