When she stepped into the next guard station, Anilith half expected to be greeted with a squad of goblins. The orange battlements had, more or less, mirrored the layout of the green side; why would this be any different? No goblins were lying in wait, though. No, an empty chamber greeted her, and she took a moment to sit by the fire burning within.

  Take quiet moments as they come, right? The heat hardly reached her through her gear’s enchantments, but she couldn’t help but feel comforted by the flame’s dancing fingers. There was something of home in that flickering light, an inherent element of safety cradled in the dangerous element. Wish I coulda gone back and checked on Razhik, but they made a mess of that section. With any luck, finishing this should clear a way through.

  She sat for a time, always aware of her surroundings, but taking solace in safety only four walls and a fire bring. For all I know, this could be the last time I enjoy this simple comfort, who knows if we actually stand a chance against this Warlord. Like Ori says, one step at a time. She was tired; not in the bone-weary way one might be after facing a horde of goblins, but in a way that was harder to quantify. It was, beyond any doubt in her mind, from using her gifts so extensively.

  Anilith couldn’t ignore the pressure she felt, the pressure to push on and become something more than her people’s greatest heroes, become enough to stem the tide of darkness that threatened to drag them into the swampy depths, but the truth was, she had no way of knowing when she’d return, no matter how she rushed. She needed the pressure, needed it to push past limits when others would give up, but the Tower was rife with opportunities to relax, to catch your breath to the point that it must be by design. Maybe it was a trap meant to catch those who didn’t have the drive to push on; that’s how she’d always viewed downtime, but since overtaxing her abilities, Anilith realized the rules she’d always known didn’t hold the same weight here.

  This was a place of magic, something she’d always believed to be the province of gods, and it was threaded into the foundations of this oasis. Before she’d been Chosen, Anilith had never heard anyone talk openly of their gifts; They were boons of the gods, and preciously guarded secrets. Even among their most gifted, she doubted any but the masters knew their gift as well as she did—and she still had far too much to learn.

  Taking Pip at his word, the entire Tower was made as a training ground—a training ground that had yet to fulfill its purpose. She was far from bold enough to guess at the ultimate purpose of such a place, content to use it to strive for greater power, but she was beginning to understand that it was a far different training than she’d ever done. She wasn’t sure her people even could train like this. Following their customs, ever had she concerned herself with the physical aspects of her growth, but this place encouraged her gifts to grow in a way she’d never imagined possible, catapulting her forward in leaps and bounds.

  In the world she knew, only the strongest warriors had any true potential with a gift, and she’d hardly touched upon her own. Already, she was a warrior standing at the pinnacle of her people. Still, she couldn’t shake the feeling that there was far more for her to accomplish in this place.

  She would emerge from the Tower a warrior beyond compare, or she would perish within, blessed with never knowing how she failed her people. The path she walked, death would come fierce and swift, or it would never catch her.

  I’ve never wanted to be the strongest, only to be enough to protect what matters. Evermore, I’m beginning to understand that’s impossible without being the strongest, but, thinking of the allies she’d made here, despite her current situation, that doesn’t mean I need to do it all myself. Sure, there may be times I have to go it alone, and, especially times like this, that might even be from my own choices, but it would be a lonely existence, being the strongest.

  The empty dread that welled up inside her, that threatened to drown her if she didn’t seal it away, becoming nothing but an instrument of death, sat at the forefront of her mind. No matter what strength she held, she could never escape that feeling, nor the disgust in her own actions. She’d always trained with an aim of excellence, never seeing the disconnect between technical skills and their application. By then, she was beginning to understand that she didn’t want to kill, to understand the damage the action inflicted on her. She killed, and would continue to kill, because it was necessary, even the purpose of the strength for which she’d always strived.

  As she lost herself in the flames, she found truth. She killed because she was too weak to protect people any other way. Faced with that reality, she gave herself a chance to daydream about what it would be like to have that kind of strength, enough to ensure her people’s safety with a word.

  What in the names of the gods…

  Stepping out from the confines of the guard post, no part of her could have guessed what lay in wait.

  Five goblins sat around, chairs and all, shooting the breeze. They were utterly relaxed, reminding her somewhat of Pip. Her appearance hardly seemed to faze them at all, and didn’t give them so much as a moment’s pause. One of them went as far as to hold up a single finger before carrying on.

  “…like I was saying, seeing the Gemstone Keep restored to its former glory is a real blessing. Always thought it was odd the way it was stripped down to nothing, but then again, so were we,” a heavily muscled, shirtless goblin said.

  “If I’ve said it once, I’ve told you a hundred times: Who are we to question our god?” Another chimed in, this one wearing flowing orange robes.

  “Would you two quit your bickering, you’re being rude to our company!” Added a third goblin who held no weapon, but was outfitted in comfortable-looking leathers and furs that bore a striking resemblance to the wolverines beneath the keep.

  “Ack,” the first retorted, “if she was gonna attack us, she’d have done so by now. Shame that after Ages waiting around, the first challenger to come along picks the other path. You know as well as I do, those fools hardly had the chance to move. Not like there’s much we could do to stop her, either, based on how she carved through the last section.”

  “We could still be civil. It’s bad enough most of us have started to go insane; do we have to act like animals too?” Turning to face her, the goblin continued, “Forgive my comrades, here. We’ve been stuck together for far too long. If you’ve ever seen an old married couple fight, well, they’ve got nothing on this group. Keeping our wits about us after all these Ages hasn’t been all good. Names Roq.” He gestured to the goblin beside him, who looked remarkably similar. “This here’s my brother Qor. Over there, you’ve already met Karn and U’grom, and that over there is Zek. He doesn’t talk much, but, unfortunately, that particular trait hasn’t worn off on these two.”

  Anilith, for her part, took the bizarre situation in stride. Wiping the confusion from her face, she gave Roq and the rest a small wave. Karn, the shirtless one, put a finger to his temple and gave a small salute she’d never seen before. “Nice to…uh…meet you all.” Thank the gods I ran into Pip. I’m not sure how I’d have reacted if not for that chat. “I guess we’re not fighting, then?”

  “Straight to the point,” Karn laughed, “I like that. Never seen the point in beating around the bush, myself. That’s what we were just arg… err…discussing. Thing is, there’s gotta be a fight, that’s just our job. Most of us don’t really fancy taking a trip to see our god just for the sake of it, though, except U’grom here insists we wouldn’t be doing our duty if we didn’t fight to the last man.” The creature shook its head. “I say it’s worth a shot, though. Rumor is you had a nice chat with the First Warden.”

  “How do you know about that?” Anilith asked. “There wasn’t anyone else around back then.”

  “Little-known fact,” Roq said, “but word spreads like wildfire among us. At least within divisions. We’re a little more than just fire mages, but we answer to the Warden all the same. Taking him down caused a big stir. He might be gentle, but no one would call him weak.”

  “Anyway,” Karn butted in, “I figure it was worth seeing if you might care to make things a little more interesting. I figure we don’t need to try to kill each other to test your skills. Hells, you’ve already seen what’s down there, I’m sure, and I watched you dance through that last section myself. That’s why we decided not to wait in that tiny room. Had to find a way to put you at ease, give us a chance to have our own little chat. I figure five goblins waiting in a room would have given you the wrong idea. Five goblins sitting around, though? That ought to do the trick. U’grom putting in his piece just frosted that pastry.” Karn laughed again. “Sorry, lady. The old mouth just runs itself sometimes. I’m trying to ask: you care for a bit of a spar? Get a taste of what a real Magma Squadron can do?”

  Murmurs of assent sounded from around the room, although Zek merely nodded, and U’grom scowled as he grunted.

  Stolen novel; please report.

  “I’ll bite,” Anilith said, “That’s why we’re all here, ain’t it?”

  “Alright, you heard the lady,” Karn said, jumping to his feet with a clap of his hands, “You know the rules: No biting, clawing, or maiming. We’ve got a guest for today’s spar, so let’s have a good showing!” He turned to address her directly. “We don’t have a lot of ways to kill time around here, so sparring has become a bit of a hobby. Keeps us sharp, too. Zek here’s got a good eye for what should be lethal, so if he says you’re out, you’re out. That goes for you, too, stranger!”

  Never really considered what goblins do when no one’s around, which, now that I think about it, has been pretty much always. Yeah, they have the whole war with the Sea Tribes thing going on, but that seems pretty much relegated to the lower ranks. She suppressed a shudder at the thought of so much idle time. Imagining herself in their place gave her a new measure of respect for the creatures, and a pang of regret for ending so many without a thought.

  “It’s Anilith,” she said with a smile, “and I swear to play by the rules, as long as you do.”

  She said the words simply, but with intention, and the magic of the Tower settled on her, binding her to the contract. As her sense of her own abilities grew, so too did her ability to discern the workings of the Tower. She was by no means an expert, but she was beginning to see through the shroud of mystery surrounding this place, as the sailor sees the misted sea inches beyond his bow.

  “Oho!” Roq exclaimed, “Versed in the ways of Oaths, are we? Well, that makes this easier.” Almost as one, they incanted with a ritual cadence, “We swear to uphold the honor of the Protector of this Space, god of the Mountain Tribes, to fight with honor and restraint.”

  Anilith could hear the significance they placed on several words, which seemed to somehow enhance the Tower’s magic. The effect was beyond her, but she could tell their Oath was not as simple as her own.

  After a reverential silence, all of the goblins standing with heads bowed, Karn straightened up and began rolling his shoulders. “Here’s where the fun starts; fighting not to kill is harder, you know,” he said with a smile.

  For a goblin, this guy is overflowing with charisma. Who am I kidding? He could give Pashikh a run for his money, she thought, returning his smile.

  Fist knocked aside blade as Karn masterfully deflected Anilith’s attacks. She’d expected him to pull out a weapon, or at least some real armor. The only warriors of the Moorish people who resorted to such methods fought like beasts, yet Karn demonstrated skill earned only through practice and movements honed by foresight.

  Who chooses to fight unarmed? Anilith wondered. All of the weapons out there, and he picked hands?

  Despite her misgivings, he was proving frustratingly durable. Coupled with the fact that he always seemed to be inside her reach, she begrudgingly had to admit there were some merits to his style. She had to resort to quick slashes, constantly fighting to gain space, unable to bring the full force of her weapons against him.

  The goblin advanced.

  He was relentless, and he was quick. His punches contained explosive force, and his skin was tougher than it had any right to be, giving off a shimmering wave of heat. Alone, he would have been a worthy foe, but he had no shortage of help.

  Every member of the squad fulfilled their role. Karn kept her occupied, dulling the edge of her assault. Roq darted in and out of the melee, his spear affording him more range than she could easily counter. He was cautious, never overcommitted, only going for crippling strikes, not seeking to end the fight in one blow. She had to be constantly alert for the threat of accumulating minor injuries.

  U’grom and Qor used their abilities to hem in her mobility, shaping the battlefield to their liking. It was a novel use of magic, to her, aiming for control rather than overwhelming force. Even if Qor showed nearly identical abilities to the archers she’d decimated only a few hours past, U’grom changed everything.

  Everywhere an arrow landed became ammunition for the mage, and he summoned great pits of lava from the depths. Some, he left in their raw, dangerous form; others he shaped up into walls, somehow cooling the outsides while the interior remained filled with molten rock like a feeding trough. Anilith was careful not to let herself be cornered against any of those walls, and the threat of U’grom breaking the walls at an opportune moment.

  Any time she saw an opening to retaliate against the harrying force of Roq, it closed before her eyes as one of the ranged supports launched an attack to protect their ally.

  Zek, due to the nature of the spar, didn’t play the most active role in the battle, but still used his strange gifts to seal Karn’s injuries almost as fast as she could inflict them. Each left a white scar on the goblin, joining myriad others he had collected over the Ages, and didn’t seem nearly as pleasant as her own people’s healing gifts. Where those left the patient hale and refreshed, this seemed to seal the wound with heat, but she was certain there was more to it than that.

  Despite those difficulties, Karn’s words rang true. The most trying aspect of the skirmish was controlling herself not to kill them. As the minutes passed, she slowly ramped up the speed and power she let trickle from her abilities. Each time, Karn matched her in turn, but she could see the strain it put on the creature, while she still had plenty of fuel to burn.

  I know I could take them all out if I wanted. Karn’s fast, but not nearly fast enough. Still, I can’t help but think this is exactly the fight I need right now. I recovered somewhat in the guard post, but I’m far from at my best after letting loose like that. More than that, though, there’s an element to my abilities I’ve been neglecting.

  As she fought, she gained a sense of how much power she was feeding into her magic. Where she’d become used to letting the forces run wild through her, she began to see a new depth to her suite of skills when she applied a touch of finesse. Fire, in particular, benefited from this training. Using the right amount of power was crucial to positioning herself and her weapons in battle. Too much, and she felt the stress on her body. She was still recovering after losing herself in the Fire.

  It's no wonder the sword couldn’t handle the stress, she thought. Still, hard to argue with those results in a pinch.

  She fought, a smile slowly growing on her face as she felt an enjoyment she hadn’t since setting foot into the Tower. Here she was, not in a fight to the death, but in a contest of artists who’d studied their techniques with their whole being. This was what training under her Master had felt like, before the realities of war shattered her illusions. This was what had sparked her passion all those years ago, when she’d been graced with the naivete of youth.

  She fought, showing more of her skills with time, beginning to transition more fluidly between Stances, and adapting to Karn's close-combat style. As she grew more comfortable, she began experimenting, combining attacks in a way that simply wasn’t possible when using her full force, finding that even Earth could embody grace when used with a delicate touch. The longer the fight went on, the wider her smile grew, even as she found herself on her back foot at times. It was training, pure and simple, and she relished it.

  It wasn’t until she began switching weapons, changing up the pace of the battle, yet again, that she realized she’d entered into a trance of focus along the way. She wasn’t drawing on Blade Weaving, and she never lost her senses, but had found a balance in the skill, a rhythm that didn’t draw so intensely from whatever resource powered the ability.

  Unbridled joy coursed through her. Her abilities had never felt so unified before, each having its own niche application. She still built her Style around Wind Stance, but there was more to it. In that low-level battle trance, she could almost feel her abilities resonating with one another, hinting at something greater beneath the surface.

  ”We always knew it was coming,” Karn said, disrupting her hyper-focused state as he disengaged. “You’re something special, lady. Here I thought I was being clever, finding a way to limit you, but, unless I’m mistaken, I just made you more dangerous.”

  Her natural eyes, for the first time since she’d entered the trance, took stock of the battlefield, and she realized Karn, sporting a fresh collection of pale scars, was the only one still fighting, excepting Zek. Blood ran down Karn’s leg from her latest strike. The other three stood back, watching the contest from a safe distance, a black line running down each of their foreheads.

  “You’ve still got a lot to show, but that last attack woulda taken me out if Zek weren’t so quick on the mending,” he said, hardly sounding disappointed. “What do you say, Zekky boy? Time to concede, or fancy your chances alone?”

  Zek merely grunted, a line suddenly marking his skin.

  Together they intoned, “You who fought with honor and restraint, be blessed by the Protector and claim victory.” The marks began to fade, even as the Tower’s binding power released them all.

  “Now,” Roq spoke up, reverence fled from his tone, “We’ve done our part, and we’re not fool enough to challenge you in a real fight. Come, pull up a chair and sit with us, unless you’re keen to race off again.”

  Anilith beamed, still riding high from adrenaline, even as exhaustion settled over her like a winter cloak. “I’d love nothing more than a little rest right now.” She moved to join them, summoning a chair from her ring.

  “That’s always the best part of a fight, if you ask me,” Roq said with a wink.

  “Nah,” Karn said, “that’ll always be the winning.”

  “Like we ever had a chance of that. I told you we should have just died with honor,” U’grom muttered.

  “Quit your complaining, Uggy,” Karn retorted. “That’s only a problem if she fails. Besides, at least it will be something new.”

  “Things weren’t so bad the way they were,” U’grom sighed.

  “That’s only because you like things boring,” the pugilist countered.

  Roq stomped a foot. “Would you two just shut it?! We have a guest!”

  Watching the exchange, Anilith couldn’t help but see the creatures around her as people, as human as any she knew, and she thought of all of them that had given themselves up for their mission. That weight settled on her shoulders as heavily as ever, but the knowledge that there were groups like this out there made it just a little lighter.