Rise of the Living Forge

If Elias’ heart still beat, it would have stopped then and there. If his blood still pumped, then it would have pounded in his head like a drum. But his body couldn’t do any of those things any longer.

That did nothing to stop Lillia’s words from ringing in his head like a death knell. Thoughts slammed into each other in his mind like trains set upon the same track, crashing and derailing as he internally scrabbled for answers.

It felt like the world was crumbling around him and the ground was falling out from beneath his feet.

No. This can’t be right. Did someone tell — no. Nobody knows. Not even the Secret Eye. Norman protected us. Nobody can see through the enchantments we’ve got on us. Ho could she know?

Elias swallowed — an old habit. One that served his body little purpose now. He couldn’t let any of his emotions show in his body language. He remained stock still in his chair, not letting a single thought break free.

This wasn’t over. He was just panicking. He and Maeve had practiced for situations like this. There were a lot of adventurers that had abilities that heightened their senses. None of them had ever picked up on him yet, but it had always been a possibility.

We’ve got explanations ready for that, though. I just have to make sure I don’t fumble my cards so badly that it’s obvious I’m lying. Come on, Elias. You can do this.

“You can tell?” Elias asked, his eyes widening as he leaned back slightly.

“Yes,” Lillia replied simply. She gave no further context.

“Ah,” Elias said. “It is a… sensitive subject, and the reason that I need to win the tournament. My heart is still because of magic that can only be cured by the plant that I was telling you about earlier.”

That wasn’t a lie. The Menagerie had made it very clear that the wouldn’t tolerate lies — but the best way to mislead people wasn’t lies.

It was the truth.

His heart had stopped because of magic. That magic was the same reason his body had no blood in it, and the same reason that he wore bandages at every moment he and Maeve left their crumbling guildhall.

Elias’ answer was completely true. He just hadn’t mentioned the fact that his heart not beating wasn’t exactly the cause of the issue. It was the effect.

Dead bodies didn’t exactly have beating hearts. And, strictly speaking, he hadn’t been alive for the last seven months.

Nobody had to know that. Anyone in their right mind would assume the magic he was referring to was a curse — but that couldn’t have been farther from the truth. He wasn’t trying to remove the magic.

He was trying to make it stronger.

The magic woven into his body, placed there by Norman, the greatest Necromancer that Elias had ever known and his beloved Guildleader, was the only thing keeping him awake. He wasn’t cursed. He was—

“Undead,” Lillia said.

Elias nodded along, his features already twisting in pre-determined ways to emulate the reaction that would fit the pity that someone felt when the realized that he was cursed —

Then he froze.

“What?”

“You’re Undead,” Lillia said.

Her words were spoken casually, but they rang into Elias’ skull. For the first time since he’d died, he felt physically ill. His wrinkled stomach bucked and tried to fling itself free through his throat.

This is a nightmare. How could she know?

A chair crashed against the ground as Maeve shot to her feet.

Elias knew he should have risen as well. The adventurers knew what he was. It should have been impossible. The enchantments on his bandages should have kept anyone from ever seeing through them.

But he couldn’t stand. It was all over.

This might have just been a crafting guild, but even if he and Maeve defeated all of the adventurers, the Secret Eye would know what happened. And if there was a survivor…

It was all over.

They’d be on the run for the rest of Elias’ shortening life — or they’d be dead. There was no more path to victory.

After getting so far, they’d failed just a few steps away from the finish line.

Elias’ shoulders slumped forward. He lifted a hand toward Maeve, then shook his head.

“Get out of here,” Elias said quietly. Lillia hadn’t had an ounce of confusion in her observation. There wouldn’t be any talking out of this. She knew. Elias didn’t know how. It didn’t matter.

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She knew.

I can’t do this. What’s the point? Fighting back just results in more death. I can’t just keep letting people die for me.

Maeve reached up to her mask. Elias’ hand shot out and he grabbed her arms.

“No!” Elias snarled. “Leave, Maeve. Now.”

She glared at him. Elias held her gaze without flinching.

Slowly, Maeve lowered her weapons. Hurt burned behind her brilliant blue eyes as she took a step back toward the door. Then she spun, sprinting for it in a blur. She grabbed the handle and jerked back on it —

The door bucked, but it didn’t open. It was locked shut.

What? Impossible!

Unease and fear swelled in Elias. Maeve was incredibly strong. She shouldn’t have had any difficulty pulling a door off its hinges.

Maeve pulled on the door again, but it was stuck fast. It must have been empowered by magic.

The Menagerie weren’t letting them leave. Elias’ dead heart sank deeper into his chest. His path was done here, but he couldn’t let Maeve end with him. Everything had gone completely wrong, but her death was not on the table. He would not allow for it.

Forgive me.

There was no time to think.

He rose to his feet, turning back to Lillia — only to find that she hadn’t even budged from her seat.

“Why would you leave so fast?” Lillia asked, tilting her head to the side. “You both came here to speak with us, didn’t you?”

Not a single one of the Menagerie had reacted to her words beyond a slight increase in interest within their eyes. None of them had drawn a weapon or made any moves toward Elias or Maeve.

Confusion twisted into Elias like the vines of a tree sprouting within his chest.

What is going on? Did I hallucinate something? Why don’t they care?

“I… what?” Elias stammered, his words sounding distant to his own ears. Perhaps he had somehow misheard Lillia. Maybe she’d been speaking about… he didn’t know. Something that rhymed with Undead. “I don’t understand.”

“You’re Undead,” Lillia said.

Elias’ hope died.

“Yes,” Elias said. “But my sister—”

“Is not,” Lillia said. “Are you going to get to the point where you finish answering our questions? It seems like a waste of both of our time for you two to come all the way here just to leave so soon.”

Elias stared at her. A tiny flicker of hope — though it was probably more like confusion — dared to take hold in his chest.

“I… don’t understand,” Elias said slowly. “What are you saying?”

“We don’t particularly care what you are,” Rodrick said with a chuckle. “Our earlier question still stands. We want to know who you are.”

“Eh?”

Elias was starting to feel like he’d hit his head on a few too many things on the way over to the Devil’s Den. He couldn’t manage to form a cohesive thought.

“Sit back down,” Lillia said. “And stop jerking on my door, please. It’s annoying.”

Maeve released the door. She glanced from her hands, then slowly made her way back over to the table. Her gaze bore into the Menagerie as she lowered herself back into a chair. She sent a nervous glance at Elias, but he had no reassurances to offer.

“You… don’t care? That I’m Undead?” Elias asked.

“No,” Arwin said. “We don’t.”

“Why?” Elias asked.

Maeve elbowed him and he let out a surprised wheeze. He really didn’t feel pain anymore, so getting prodded really wasn’t much more annoying than getting tapped on the shoulder, but his mind wasn’t exactly with things at the moment.

“Should we care?” Rodrick tilted his head to the side. “We can account for that, if you think we should.”

“No!” Elias exclaimed, nearly jumping out of his chair. “No, you shouldn’t. There’s no reason for that. I — yes. I’m an Undead. But I wasn’t always one.”

“Most Undead don’t start Undead,” Lillia said dryly. “You have to die first. That’s part of the whole shtick. But, as Rodrick said, we really don’t care what you are. We’re trying to figure out if we want to partner with you for the tournament or not.”

Elias swallowed. He let himself lower back into the chair. He could barely believe his own ears, but it wasn’t like he had much choice. If there was an opportunity to get out of this while keeping himself and Maeve alive, he had to take it.

“Tell me what you want to know. I have not lied about our motives at all. I am dying.”

“Already dead,” Rodrick corrected.

“And still dying,” Elias replied. He picked at the bandage on one of his fingers. “My Undeath is not a typical one. My senses remain, even though my summoner is gone.”

“Your Guildmaster,” Arwin realized. “He was a Necromancer?”

Elias hesitated for a long second. He’d kept this information secret for so long that revealing any of it felt like driving a blade into his own chest, but it wasn’t like he had much choice.

Swallowing, he nodded. “Yes.”

“And you’re still kicking it?” Rodrick’s eyes widened in shock. “Didn’t he go missing a few months ago?”

“Seven.”

“Godspit. He was a really damn good Necro. You’re trying to find a way to keep yourself… unalive, then?”

Why aren’t they surprised? They barely even seem to care that Norman was using forbidden magic that was only allowed within the Monster Horde.

Elias nodded again. There wasn’t much more he could do. “Yes. A Moonlit Lilly is said to have the ability to grant years to an Undead lifeform. That would be enough time for me to find Norman and for him to refresh the enchantments on me. That’s our desire.”

“And Maeve?” Lillia asked. “What about her?”

Elias’ stomach somehow managed to sink even further, but there was a chance that they didn’t know what Maeve. It was just a aquestion.

Maeve put a hand on his shoulder and gave it a squeeze. She didn’t say anything, but her gaze bore into Lillia’s without flinching.

“I think that’s a pretty straight forward answer,” Arwin said. “She’s here for him.”

Relief drove into Elias. They didn’t know.

“Is she really your sister?” Rodrick asked.

“Not by blood, but by every other metric,” Elias said. Despite the situation, he didn’t let his words weaken. He didn’t know what would happen, but he refused to meet his fate like a coward. “Those are the extent of our desires. We just want to find Norman. We aren’t working with the Monster Horde or trying to kill anyone. I need to live long enough to do that. That’s it.”

“A straightforward goal,” Rodrick observed.

There was a long pause. Nobody spoke during it, but the members of the Menagerie that were present exchanged glances with each other.

Elias’ hands tightened.

This is it. They seem… kind. Maybe they’ll let us leave. The tournament is ruined. I’ve got months left, then, but it’ll have to be enough. That’s all I can hope—

Arwin extended a hand across the table.

Elias stared at it.

Is this a joke?

“Your reason is as good as any,” Arwin said. “I believe our interests can align… so long as you’re still looking to participate in the Proving Grounds?”

Maeve elbowed Elias in the side.

Jerked back into motion and barely able to believe his own eyes, Elias reached across the table and took Arwin’s hand.

“You’re going to help us?” Elias asked in disbelief.

“Oh, we’re not just going to help,” Arwin replied. A smile pulled across his lips. “We’re going to do our damned best to win.”

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