Rise of the Living Forge

Arwin didn’t let his surprise at seeing Art show on his face. He fortunately hadn’t been taken completely off guard. Rodrick had warned him that the boy was likely to return. It was just a bit odd to see him this early in the morning. A re-meeting like this felt like it would be best saved for the evening or late at night.

“Art,” Arwin said. He took a step back from the door and nodded toward the table. Rodrick had done more than give them a warning of Art’s likely return. He’d also primed them on what to say. Arwin wasn’t sure why that was necessary, but he saw no reason to start doubting the former Inquisitor now. “Rodrick told me that you’d be coming back.”

If Rodrick was right, the next thing he says should be something about his father not being dead.

“I’m sure he did,” Art said as he and Vix followed Arwin into the Devil’s Den. The three of them sat down at the tavern where Kien had just been. Art leaned his cane against the table and interlaced his fingers. “I’m sure he’d be pleased to know that my father still lives.”

God, this is creepy. How the hell did he know that Art would follow up with that?

“He would,” Arwin confirmed, trying his best to not let the goosebumps prickling against his back show on his features. “We have no desire to cause pointless death. That isn’t what we stand for.”

“Yes, we got your message quite well.” Art reached into a pocket and pulled his deck of cards out. He rifled through them, pulling a cart free without looking at the cards’ faces once. He flipped it around to reveal Arwin’s sketch drawn upon it.

A flame licked across the top of the card. It enveloped the paper in an instant, swallowing the entire thing with a whoosh. The card burned away within a second, leaving nothing but a few flecks of ash to float through the air in its wake.

Arwin’s nose wrinkled at the smell of burnt paper. Rodrick hadn’t told him that Art was going to go around starting fires.

“We won’t share any information about who you are,” Vix said. “Not with anyone. It’s all gone. The only people that know are me and Art, and we’ll never breath a word of it. We swear.”

Rodrick’s methods are terrifyingly effective. Thank god for them, though. If Art had gone around trying to use this as blackmail… or hell, if someone had believed him, it would be over. The Adventurer’s Guild can’t figure out who I am. Not now — not when I’m so close to being able to truly start fighting back.

“Thank you,” Arwin said simply.

“I have to ask, though.” Art shuffled his cards back together, then raised his gaze to meet Arwin’s. “Why? You’re… you. What could you possibly gain from hiding like this? From pretending to be a smith? The kingdom loves you. We all owe you everything. What could you possibly get from starting a new guild and participating in the Proving Grounds?”

“It’s a long story. Not one that will give you a satisfactory answer, and not one that I’m looking to share today.”

Art examined Arwin’s features for several long seconds. It was surprisingly awkward. Arwin almost said something just to break the silence, but that was almost certainly what Art was going for.

The teen eventually inclined his head.

“I understand. We’re far from allies, so I can see why you wouldn’t want to share the story. Especially when you’re trying to hide it. My curiosity does not enjoy being stifled, but you have already made it abundantly clear that it will have to learn. I am not here today to pry you on history.”

This is just about where Rodrick’s guesses for what Art would do ended. He said he’d come back to talk, but I don’t think even he expected Art would show up before the crack of dawn. I’d go run and get him, but Art hasn’t even said what it is he wants.

“I can hazard a guess that your time is more valuable than that,” Arwin said with a wry smile. “So what is it that you want?”

“To lay my cards on the table,” Art said. He glanced down at the deck in his hands. “Metaphorically speaking. I’m not sharing these yet.”

Yet?

“Go on,” Arwin said.

“I need to win the Proving Grounds for a number of reasons,” Art said. “But none of them are irreplicable. There are two things in particular that I must ensure. The first is a demonstration of my father’s power. Our house must prove it has not gotten weak. “

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“Typical enough, and you’re right. You don’t have to win to do that. You just have to perform well enough that you make it high up in the tournament.”

“The second is harder,” Art said. “I need a new heart.”

Vix blinked and glanced at Art in surprise, but he ignored her.

“So you mentioned during our first meeting,” Arwin said.

I have to say, it’s a bit odd that I’ve had 2 entirely separate people come in here requesting a new heart. I’m a smith, not a witch selling love potions. Why does everyone think I’m in the business of giving out hearts?

“You said it would be difficult,” Art said.

“It would be. Possibly impossible. But what do you think a new heart has to do with the Proving Grounds?”

“The prize for victory is an answer to any question,” Art said simply. “If anyone can point me toward a replacement, it would be the Secret Eye. It is a matter of life and death.”

“I see,” Arwin said slowly. “I know where you’re coming from. But… if you’re asking that we stand down so you can win the tournament, I’m afraid we can’t accept, no matter what you offer. Our own team has a question they need answered that is of a similar level of importance.”

“I had guessed as much. There would be little other reason for someone such as you to enter the tournament,” Art said. He leaned forward and braced his arms against the table. “I am not arrogant enough to ask you to quit the tournament. I am here to ask for help.”

Arwin blinked. “Help? To win the tournament?”

“Yes.”

“But we’re competing against each other,” Arwin pointed out. “Why would I help you?”

“Because you are you. I will never share that information with someone else, but for this one circumstance, I will abuse it without regard for self-respect or honor. The Hero would never abandon someone to die.”

“Art,” Vix hissed. “You said we were coming to ask for another member for our team! This isn’t—”

“My sister is dying,” Art said flatly. “Her heart is diseased. A rot from birth that my own leg was afflicted with. Our father bankrupted our family in search of a cure. He found nothing. The Secret Eye are our final chance, but we cannot defeat your team as we are.”

Vix looked absolutely stricken.

“This is wrong,” Vix said. “Art, you can’t—”

“I can,” Art said, driving a fist down onto the table. “I can and I will. I will not accept a victory that comes at the cost of your life, Vix.”

“You are sacrificing your honor,” Vix snapped. She pushed back from the table. “We promised to not use his identity against him. My life is not worth the name of our family.”

“The name of our family does not matter if there is nobody left to carry it on,” Art snarled. “Sit down, Vix. You promised to follow my orders for this mission. This is an order.”

Vix’s hands clenched at her sides.

“Art is right. Sit down,” Arwin said. Vix glanced at him in surprise. Then she slowly lowered herself back into the chair.

I honestly respect the determination. If I were in Art’s position and Vix was any member of the Menagerie, I’d do the exact same thing. He’s not threatening to reveal my identity to people. He’s just trying to use what he believes to be my nature against me.

Unfortunately, he’s right.

It was several seconds before Arwin spoke again.

“If you’re asking me for a way to fix Vix’s heart, I’m unsure if it’s possible. I’ve never tried something like that before. The chances of failure are astronomically high.”

“What if we were to withdraw from the tournament?”

“Art!” Vix exclaimed.

“It is not a matter of wanting to win,” Arwin said with a shake of his head. “If I could fix Vix right now, then I would. I would not leave someone to die because we are opponents in a tournament. If she were going to die tomorrow, then I would try to fix her now. But it seems her death is not that pressing.”

“It isn’t,” Vix said. “I have time.”

“But not enough,” Art said. “If you cannot fix her before the tournament, then we must attempt to win. It is our only choice.”

“I have no complaints with that. We are more than happy to face you on the battlefield,” Arwin said. A small frown pulled at his lips. As Art and Vix were, he couldn’t see any way that they would win the tournament.

Even if they were both immensely talented warriors — which Art most certainly was not — there were only two of them.

They’re also clearly looking for another member. Someone new isn’t going to be able to mesh that well with a team that hasn’t trained with them. These two are in a pretty shit spot.

Hm.

“You know,” Arwin said, drawing the word out. “I’m unsure of my ability to fix Vix now, but that doesn’t mean I’ll stay that way. I’m constantly working to improve. There is a decent chance I’ll be able to do something in the near future.”

“How soon?” Art asked.

“I don’t know. It could be days or weeks, or it could be never. I don’t want to give you false hope,” Arwin said. “But… feel free to correct me if I’m wrong here, but I don’t think you pose a very good chance of performing well in the Proving Grounds right now.”

“We will perform as best as we can,” Art said with a one-shouldered shrug. He grabbed his cane and pulled himself to his feet. “If you can work on something to help Vix, that is all I can ask. We will attempt the tournament to secure our house’s standing. I know we will not win, but we will do our best.”

“Hold on, there,” Arwin said, raising a hand to keep Art from leaving. “I’m not done.”

“You aren’t?” Art tilted his head to the side. “Ah. You seek some manner of reward should you be successful in healing Vix?”

“Not exactly,” Arwin said. A small smile pulled at his lips. “I was just thinking that, even if we’re competing against each other in the tournament, some of our interests may still align. I think I can help you.”

Art blinked. “You can? With what?”

“An introduction,” Arwin replied. He rose to his feet. “There’s a man in our basement in need of a team that I think you should meet.”