MARIN

Marin could still smell her flesh cooking. She covered herself in cold and water, but the fire was all-encompassing. She couldn't protect everywhere. Marin could feel the fire burning the skin on her legs. She could hear her own fat crackling.

Then, like waking up from a dream, it was over. Marin didn’t believe it. She patted at the fire. She could still feel it roasting her. However, when she ran her hands over those places, it was just her skin. Smooth and unburnt.

Marin watched Flair, waiting for the woman to lose her temper again and continue to fight. Marin was going to be ready. There was no way she would die to this bitch.

“Don’t worry. I will be sending you your friends shortly. You won't be alone for long,” Flair said.

Marin let out one long, shaky breath. “You are insane. Do you really think you’re strong? You’re out of control.”

Flair watched Marin with wide eyes. Flair sneered; her upper lip was pulled back above her teeth. “You’re just jealous. I proved once and for all that you don’t fucking belong!” Flair shouted. “Fucking EAMP.”

The sound of stone grinding on stone made both Flair and Marin jump, and Marin took her eyes off Flair just long enough to see Cryonolon emerge from the wall. The old mage looked at Flair and Marin and gestured to Marin. “Come along. The battlefield is no place for those without shields.”

Marin cautiously made her way to her feet. She crossed her arms to keep her robes together. The full-length robes had burnt open on places she failed to protect or forgot to save with cold. It effectively made her robes a high-cut dress that covered her thighs and torso. Underneath Marin’s dress, a leather vest was visible.

The fear was gone, and the panic and pain had faded. Marin looked toward Flair, and her primary emotion was pity. “You need help, Flair, and I hope Phoenix blesses you with the insight to see that.”

Marin turned away and walked toward Cryonolon. Flair shouted, “I hope Aro blesses you with even more ass so you have something to fall back on when you fail out this year, FUCKING EAAA-” Flair’s taunt was cut off prematurely, and the last thing Marin saw was a petite woman pushing Flair down onto the stone floor.

AELLARIA

From the opposite end of the magelight-lit room, Aellaria watched Phia systematically disable, disarm, and defeat the distracted Flair. When Flair was on the ground, Phia pushed cold into Flair’s primary hand.

Flair shoved Phia back but couldn’t follow up fast enough due to, presumably, frostbitten fingers.

The small mage threw three punches into Flair’s stomach, and as Flair struggled to regain her composure, Phia cast cold into Flair’s other hand.

“Get the fuck off me, you gremlin!” Flair shouted, but Aellaria could see her hands strike impotently against Phia. The strikes only caused Flair to immediately cry out in pain.

Phia then cast a spell and seemed about to press it into Flair when Aellaria heard Phia shout. “Yield!”

Aellaria saw Flair struggle, rolling back and forth to try and throw Phia off of her, but her attempts were cut short as she howled out in pain. “Fuck you!”

“Yield!”

“Fine! I fucking yield, bitch.” Flair shouted.

Aellaria wanted to continue admiring Phia’s work. She was fast, ruthless, and seemingly inexhaustible. However, through her enhanced chaotic connection to magic, she felt the use of cold magic elsewhere in the labyrinth. Aellaria left Phia to her next quarry and ran toward whom she hoped was Callo.

SYN

Syn quickly realized she was in over her head. Badnel and Drakon were in the top four of Niall’s class and had decided to work together.

Syn was wearing her leather vest and helmet, but that would only help against Drakon, and only if the electromancer was careless.

Syn anxiously watched as Badnel and Drakon tried to surround her, but Syn still had a door behind her if they tried to fight. As the tension rose and a decision had to be made, Syn knew she was outmatched. “Are y’all too afraid to fight me one on one?”

Drakon smiled as he continued to sidestep. With every step, his tambourine hanging from his hip jingled with a light sparkling noise. His muscular and imposing body hunched forward like a tiger, ready to pounce. “Of course we are… This is our future we are fighting for.”

Badnel mirrored Drakon’s movements, creating an obtuse angle with Syn in the middle. “We wouldn’t want to risk hurting you. Please yield.”

Syn was now forced to move her head to track both men simultaneously. “Why don’t I fight one of you, and the other can jump in then? Fightin’ just one of you will lower the risk of applyin’ lethal force. After all, your future is important, ain’t it?” She said out of desperation. Even before Aellaria took her down, both men were above her in the ranks.

The two men stopped their stalking and looked each other in the eye. Badnel set a fist in his palm, and Drakon mirrored the movement. Over the next few seconds, the two adult men played Rock, Paper, Scissors to find out who would fight her. Syn wanted to laugh derisively but controlled her emotions. She didn’t want to celebrate the small victory prematurely.

Syn’s heart dropped a little when she saw Drakon was the victor. The field would have been equal against a cryomancer, but against an Electromancer, Syn would be lucky to even get a chance to cast.

The two men stood still, but Drakon spoke first. “I will fight you then—a mostly fair fight. I just need you in the center of the room. Or we can knock you down when you try to run.”

“Fine, but if I step forward, I want Badnel over in the corner.” Syn countered.

“Let's not waste time,” Badnel said, stepping back. Syn could tell he expected her to move forward while he moved away.

Syn looked toward Drakon and slowly moved away from the only possible exit. She hated the idea of running– Syn wasn’t a coward. True to their words, Badnel slowly retreated to a corner of the large room, and Drakon squared up against Syn in the center of the room.

“Ready?” Drakon asked.

“Ready,” Syn said.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

As soon as the fight started, Syn poured all her heat into a wall of flame This was one of the techniques Garrus recommended she try. If she obscured his vision, it would allow her to get close and use her stature to her advantage. Also, she knew that heat could offer some resistance to powerful electrical blows.

However, Drakon was faster, and a bolt of electricity hit Syn's center mass, causing her to drop hard.

“Syn, no!” Behngi shouted from an open doorway adjacent to Badnel. Badnel was swift and started toward Behngi.

At the center of the room, Drakon also saw the opportunity and decided to grab it. He rushed forward to disable the newly arrived Behngi, but Syn was only knocked flat. She was still conscious. As Drakon ran over toward Behngi, he was surprised by a sweeping kick from Syn. Syn felt the satisfying give of Drakon’s center of gravity as the kick landed on his shin.

Drakon went down, landing on his stomach. Syn swiftly rolled over and leapt on top of him. Drakon is inarguably stronger than she was, but that doesn’t mean she wouldn’t do what she was best at. Syn punched Drakon in the shoulder as he threw her off.

Meanwhile, Behngi spotted Badnel and struck him with a swift lightning arc, leaving the Cryomancer spasming and leaning against the wall.

Drakon began weaving another electricity spell, but as he threw the arc at Syn, it suddenly juts off to the right. Behind Drakon, Behngi was preparing another spell to catch Drakon’s.

Syn noticed Behngi clearing the distance and decided to force the advantage. Syn cast her wall of fire and then sidestepped. Drakon forced another arc of electricity out, but this time, it juts straight down, exploding against the tile and cracking it.

Drakon roared in frustration, looked over his shoulder toward the incapacitated Badnel, and approached Behngi. “Syn, you’re the one that agreed to a one-on-one.” Drakon accused.

Drakon rushed Behngi, but Syn emerged from the wall of fire faster. With her right hand, she punched Drakon twice and cast two explosive fire spells with her left.

“A two on two is just as fair, darlin’,” Syn responded.

By mixing the arcane and martial, Syn could clear the power differential between herself and Drakon. Drakon was thrown five feet back onto his side with the second strike.

Syn rushed Drakon again, and he retaliated with a spreading blast of as much electricity as he could muster. However, Behngi was more talented with electricity, and he again forced the electricity into the ground.

Syn’s hand glowed as she prepared to hit Drakon again. He blocked but took the entire force on his forearm. There was nowhere for the energy to transfer, and Drakon cried out in pain. Syn only gave him the slightest reprieve as she hit repeatedly, using most of her mana to keep delivering the punishing explosive blows.

After the third strike, Drakon raised his left hand, open-palmed. “I yield!”

Syn looked back toward Behngi and then further back at Badnel. Only to see that Badnel was already limping through the doorway at the room's far end. “Behngi! He’s running!”

Syn hopped to her feet, having officially defeated Drakon. She sprinted after Badnel, and Behngi followed.

Syn ran through the tight passage into one of those smaller rooms with the pedestal in the middle. Syn sprinted to the opposite side, knowing Badnel didn’t have time to climb up. After running through the next winding corridor, Syn was surprised to see an active fight in this room. The magelights already being on indicated at least two people.

Paris had already gotten to Badnel; it was less of a fight and more of a slaughter. Badnel tried to freeze the air around Paris by pushing an arm forward, but Paris used his sword to give him the extra reach he needed. The sword tip slapped against Badnel’s palm and surged with electricity. Badnel’s muscles instinctively clenched and grabbed the blade, causing the sharp blade to cut into the Cryomancer’s palm.

Paris effortlessly kicked Badnel onto his back and locked eyes with Syn. “I’ll be right with you, Syn.”

Syn realized that Behngi wasn’t with her, and she retreated through the winding corridor, where she heard more fighting.

Maybe she could handle Paris with Behngi, but it was impossible alone. She had as long as Badnel’s pride wore out to get away.

Syn entered the next terminal room and saw why Behngi wasn’t with her. Phia had pinned him to the ground. Instead of trying to understand the situation, she hopped forward and kicked Phia off Behngi with as much force as she could muster.

Syn felt fatigued from constant sprinting, panic, and mana deprivation. She leaned down and helped Behngi to his feet. “Paris… comin’…”

Phia held her head as Syn and Behngi left her behind for rest and recuperation.

The pair returned to the room where they had fought Drakon. He was already gone.

Behngi took the lead and picked one of the two other hallways. “This way…”

Syn kept Behngi in her sight this entire time and realized he was cradling his right arm to his chest. “Y’okay?”

“She targeted my casting hand… She was so fast.” Behngi said. Syn and Behngi stopped in the next terminal room, knowing they wouldn’t be ready if they charged into a fight. Syn looked at Behngi’s hand, and it looked healthy. “I-I can’t feel it,” he said.

Syn felt desperate and wanted to help. “Should I try to heat it?” Syn whispered. Maybe the heat would undo some of the damage from Phia’s cold.

Behngi shook his head and sat down. “I need a healer… it can wait until after I tap out.”

Syn tried her best to clear her head of adrenaline or panic; both wrestled for control. She closed her eyes and felt Behngi take her hand in his remaining good one.

“Thank you, Syn,” Behngi whispered.

Syn chuckled and tried to relax, “Yeah, that was pretty cool, wasn’it?”

Their short rest, thankfully, went undisturbed.