Kingdom of Iron: Tyrant's Fall

Of course, that was far easier said than done.

Over the past few months, Matt had grown accustomed to being… busy. From the plans he drew up to reform the Kingdom, to meeting with officials and nobles, to managing the wars he'd fought, he'd never truly been able to just sit down and wait. Even when he was wounded, he'd usually been managing a flow of parchment that seemed never-ending. It had often made him wish for even a day without it all.

Now, unexpectedly, he'd been granted his wish—and as he should have guessed, he immediately hated it.

He got himself banned from the room with the other Humans in it before noon the day after Gwelfed had left, just due to being overly concerned about the others. They told him he was interrupting their practice and asked for privacy, and he'd agreed reluctantly after they promised to inform him of any progress with Gorfeld or their magic.

Lucy was unavailable for a different reason, one very familiar to him. Unlike Matt, she still had the continual flow of messengers, news, plans, and officials to manage, and until the treaty was affirmed by the Kingdom, he was very much not invited to eavesdrop on any of her strategic plans.

The one time he caught more than a glimpse of her was when he walked into the courtyard for a sparring session with his lifeguards and found that Lucy had already had a similar idea.

She stood in the courtyard facing three of her Knights. They all had practice weapons of one kind or another. Lucy had her own practice sword and knife ready, her eyes shifting between her various opponents.

At some prearranged signal, they moved. Matt blinked as all three Knights launched themselves at her. Even Balred, the expert swordsman that he was, couldn't face more than three or four. Seeing her being attacked by nearly as many made him doubt the result.

Before he could say anything, Lucy moved. Her speed was unlike anything that she'd shown during the assassination attempt; if anything, it was like she hadn't been trying. Lucy darted forward, her steps so fast that it seemed like a full on sprint. The Knight on the far right, her target, switched from offense to defense in an attempt to ward her off, but he moved too slow. Striking like a viper, she wove her blade past his defense and struck a marked part of his armor, just below his throat.

As the Knight staggered aside, dropping his sword, the other two lunged at her. Lucy responded by dancing aside from their blows. She moved easily, like she was dancing more than fighting. Her knife flicked out to turn a downward slash aside; her sword flashed in to stab at a Knight's armpit. The strike hit hard enough for Matt to wince, and the Knight dropped her blade and cursed, clutching at the spot.

Lucy's last opponent took a moment to set himself. His eyes were serious as he and Lucy circled, their steps sure and steady. Matt could see a thrill in Lucy's eyes; they were bright as she watched the Knight move. For just an instant, they flicked over to him, meeting his gaze with a hint of surprise.

The Knight lunged at that moment, closing the distance in a heartbeat. Lucy swore and bent backwards, just barely dodging the incoming strike. Her opponent transitioned from a thrust to a strike, and Lucy's sword went spinning away as she sacrificed it to turn the blade aside.

Then she darted in, the knife in her off hand striking at the Knight's throat. The Knight recoiled, but it wasn't fast enough. Lucy held the practice blade at his throat, her other hand locked around the collar of his breastplate. They both froze.

Her opponent dropped his sword with a sigh. "Well done, my Lady."

Lucy grinned and let go. She skipped backwards, picking up her discarded sword. "You nearly had me, Coth."

The Knight nodded, still scowling. "You allowed yourself to get distracted. It could be a lethal mistake."

She nodded casually, as if she'd heard it before. As she exchanged salutes with the Knights, she walked over to where Matt was still watching her. "Looking for a sparring partner, King Matthew?"

The challenge in her voice made Matt smile. "A little, but probably not you. Or at least, not with that spell active. What's it called?"

Lucy's eyebrows went up in surprise. "You think I couldn't do this on my own?"

"I think you already mentioned a spell that boosted your speed." Matt shrugged. "Though I don't know why you didn't use it before."

She grimaced. "The thing takes forever to cast. It really works once it gets going, though." Lucy stretched. "It's called the Steps of the Wind. I'm sure you probably have something similar."

Matt shrugged. "Not exactly. My spells were a little more… obvious."

Lucy smiled. "So, are you going to avoid any duels until you get your magic back? I wouldn't want you to feel disadvantaged."

He snorted. "I think I'll spar with my own lifeguards, but anything more might need to wait until the treaty is signed. I hope that's not too much of a disappointment."

She shrugged. "Just something to look forward to, I suppose." Lucy glanced back at the other side of the courtyard. There was already a group of messengers and clerks waiting for her. He heard her sigh. "Good luck then, King Matthew."

Matt nodded and waved to her as she left. He watched as she handed off her practice weapons and then dove into the crowd of Knights, already giving orders and receiving reports. They swirled around her like debris caught in a windstorm as she walked towards the castle.

Balred cleared his throat behind him. "Sire, should we practice with you, then?"

He looked back at the lifeguard. "Not confident in my chances, Balred?"

The Leaffall winced. "She seems to have had a bit more experience, sire."

Matt snorted again. His own footwork had never been excellent, and he was sure that by comparison to her, he looked like a clumsy bull. It was all too easy to imagine her playing matador in a sparring session, which probably wouldn't help his image at all.

Still, he had nothing else to do at the moment. He nodded. "All right, Balred. Let's see if you can teach me how to not get myself killed on my own."

The Orc nodded and produced a practice mace for him. Matt took it and walked out into the courtyard and set himself. At least getting himself beat on would take his mind off the wait.

Unfortunately, he could only spar for so long. Even with his wound finally seeming to be healed, Matt could only train for an hour or two at most before he was left sore, aching, and unable to continue. Riding Nelson faced a similar limitation; even with Snolt and the lifeguards accompanying him, straying too far from Mornal was not a good idea.

Which left him with only a single other outlet for his sudden surplus of time and energy. With a dedication—perhaps some would say a desperation—that would have made Melren proud, Matt turned to practicing his mantras, hoping to at least finish the next Source and gain something from his enforced vacation. His decision resulted in him spending well more than twelve hours a day submerging himself in the mantras, building and reinforcing the Aspect of Heart and drawing ever closer to the completion of his new Source.

Fortunately, his obsessive practice paid dividends with reassuring speed. By the time he'd reached the afternoon of the third day, he felt the various parts of the Source shift inside him in a way that felt familiar. He tried to suppress a very familiar sense of alarm as the Source took shape within him, something that a spike of agony made very difficult. It seemed the new Source had brushed against the other two as it took shape, and the contact had sent shivers of pain through his internal self.

Even as he groaned in pain, however, Matt felt too distracted to dwell on it—if only because the new Source demanded all his focus.

Just as the other two had, the new Source expanded his awareness of the world. Yet this time, rather than continuing to expand, as his first Source had, or narrowing to include only his physical form, the Source seemed to extend along various… channels around him. It was as if he suddenly became aware of a network of threads, branching from him to the things around him. One such thread connected him to his mace. Another bundle of them stretched in the direction of the Humans and Gorfeld; others stretched towards his nearby lifeguards. Each of them seemed to flare and burn with life, even as a similar energy warmed his soul.

At the center of that web was a pulsing, flaring light that seemed to roar to life in time with his heartbeat. It pounded at him with heat, threatening to sear him with each throb of flame. His first instinct was to try to crush it down and stop it, to keep it under control.

Yet he'd learned from his previous experiences, and he forced himself to not reach out. Matt waited, watching as it continued to pulse and burn, until his soul grew used to the vibrant pattern of light. As he relaxed again, he felt a brief burst of gratitude that he hadn't started with Fire in the first place. An earthquake had been bad enough; if he had panicked and grabbed hold of this kind of Source, would he have died in an inferno?

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Setting aside those concerns, he pushed himself out of his chair and started for the door. Now that he finally had magic again, he needed to find the spells to use his new Source. The Knights weren't likely to supply him with any, but his lifeguards were sure to know something of use.

"I'm sorry, sire, but I can't help you." Tiridine made the admission as if it pained her, but she still shook her head with a certainty that made Matt sigh. "My Sources are all either for Body Aspect, or they have Autumn Seasons. None of my spells would work with what you've built."

Matt nodded tiredly. It had been the same story with each of his lifeguards so far; while they all shared one or two parts of the Sources Foundation with him, they didn't have all of the pieces necessary. He didn't have access to Redspire's vast archives either, and of the spells that the other Humans had taken with them, there weren't any that would work for him.

He cursed his own lack of foresight. Of course, he hadn't expected to be trapped inside of the Pridelands this long, but he still could have brought one or two spells to use. Apparently, he'd need to wait until he got back to the capital before he put his new Source to any real use.

With a sigh, he tried to sound reassuring. "Don't worry about it, Tiridine. Maybe I'll find someone else." The Red Moon Orc gave him a sympathetic nod and then returned to the yard. Some of the lifeguards were sparring with Balred at the moment, and she likely didn't want to miss the chance to match her skills against the best swordsman in their small group. They'd gotten more and more competitive lately, though they hadn't explained why.

Matt shook his head and looked over at Nelson, who was placidly chewing on some fodder. The warbuck regarded him with an aloof lack of empathy, and Matt grinned at him. "You don't happen to have any Fire, Summer, and Heart Sourced spells, do you, Nelson?"

Nelson's only response was to shake his antlers at him, and Matt snorted. He reached over to stroke the mount's nose affectionately. "Well, I suppose you're still doing your best, anyway."

Someone cleared their throat behind him, and Matt turned to find Snolt standing there. He was in one of the stalls that had been converted into a kennel, and his massive Warg was lounging within the shadowed recesses within.

The Goblin looked a little uncomfortable and furtive, as if he was trying not to be noticed by anyone. Matt frowned at him, wondering what the Captain was doing. "Captain. What are you—"

Snolt flinched and gestured for Matt to lower his voice. Then he beckoned Matt closer. "You're looking for spells, right? Ones that have Fire, Summer, and Heart?"

Curious, Matt glanced at the lifeguards. An Imp named Ennam and a Goblin named Oost had been assigned to tail him around today, but neither was paying attention at the moment. They were chatting with each other about the match going on between Harak and Balred. Both Orcs were exchanging the kind of blows that would have laid Matt out in a heartbeat.

He looked back at the nervous Goblin in front of him. Snolt was acting oddly, true, but it wasn't like the man had not been loyal. Matt nodded. "I am."

Snolt hesitated. He looked at where the lifeguards were and then back at Matt. Then he closed his eyes and grimaced. When he opened them, he looked resolute. "I know some. Tricks, I mean."

Matt blinked and tilted his head. "You do? Snolt, I've never seen you use sp—"

The Captain frantically gestured for him to stop. "Shh!" He glanced at the doorway, but neither lifeguard had looked back. "They aren't spells. Nothing a woman would think was worth her time, just little magical tricks, understand?"

Then he looked down at his hands. "Still, they're the kind of thing that might be useful to you. I could show you how they work, and maybe then you could decide?"

Curious, Matt nodded. Snolt sucked in a deep breath and then let it out in a sigh. "That's settled then. I'll share 'em, but you can't let anyone know I taught you, all right? As far as anyone knows, you got this from some book, not from me."

Matt lowered his voice. "You're really that worried about this? Why? Are they some kind of Copperflame secret?"

Snolt blinked. Then he covered his mouth to muffle a sound that seemed curiously close to a snicker. "A secret? No, not anything that fancy. We're Low Folk, and I'm a man, after all. We're meant for fighting and kicking up a fuss, not learning anything like this." The Goblin shrugged uncomfortably. "My Gran thought it was fine to teach me a few things, though, and I never gave up the habit, even after I married."

Still not quite understanding, Matt gestured for the Goblin to continue. Snolt peered around at the stables one last time, as if making sure that no one was around except for him, Matt, and the beasts. Then he heaved another breath and grew calm. "All right, here's the first one. It's called the Little Tinderbox. All it does is heat something up a little, maybe enough to start a fire. It has to be something you know well, and the larger the thing is, the less the effect. Watch."

The Goblin paused and drew out a small flat disc of metal, muttering something under his breath. Matt looked closer and blinked as the disc of metal suddenly glowed. It went from dull grey to cherry red in moments, and Snolt grinned.

"This little guy has been with me for years. See how hot it gets for me?"

Matt nodded, a little taken aback. There was… excitement in Snolt's tone, something that almost seemed to match his enthusiasm for bloodshed. He hadn't expected that kind of attitude from his Captain. "Does it melt?"

Snolt gave him an amused look. "What kind of good would it do to melt your own little friends?" He tossed the disc from hand to hand. "It won't burn you, but it might char or burn things you aren't attached to. It might feel a little warm, though, but that can be useful." He smiled. "Sometimes you can use it to warm your clothes on a cold night. It's a good trick to use on the trail."

As Snolt demonstrated by pressing the disc into a part of the stable, Matt watched closely. Smoke abruptly curled from the wood, and a crackle filled the air. Snolt pulled the disc back, and the glow vanished, leaving a circular patch of ash.

Matt nodded again, slowly, as Snolt double-checked that the lifeguards hadn't taken notice. "I can see how that would be useful."

"I'm sure you could. You've been running around in the winter enough to know." Snolt grinned and slipped the disc back into his pocket. Then he pointed at the charred circle. "The next trick is called Ash Pocket. It can let you store something you're attached to for a short while and pull it back out again. The only catch is that you have to throw it into a fire to hide it, and use a bit of ash to get it back."

The Goblin muttered a few words and then reached into the ash on the wood with two fingers. A moment later, he drew out a small locket on a string. "See?"

Matt peered closer at the locket. It wasn't coated in ash or burnt. "It doesn't get harmed at all?"

"Not in the least. See?" Snolt popped open the locket and showed Matt the contents. There was a detailed drawing of a female Copperflame Goblin on one side, and another of two young Goblins on the other. "Not a bit of char. Just… remember to have the spell going before you toss something in, all right?"

He grinned at the Goblin. "How big can it be?"

Snolt's face fell a little. "Not very. At least, not for me. I usually can only have a couple things this size stored, and I have to pull it back out every day to keep from exhausting myself." He glanced down at the locket and snapped it shut. "Not that I mind. It's worth it to keep some things safe."

The Captain paused for a few moments. Then he seemed to recover his momentum. "The third one is a really good one. You have to have a connection to an animal, but when you do, you can give them a bit of a boost in strength. Not much, but it can make the difference in some fights. Doesn't it, Scruff?"

Behind Snolt, the massive Warg looked up for a moment. It considered the Goblin in front of it with two bright, golden eyes. Then it cautiously sniffed at Snolt and nudged him. Snolt chuckled and ran a hand through the Warg's fur. "It's called the Rider's Heart. I think a lot of Warg Riders might have that one, but not many talk about it. It should work fine with you and Nelson."

Matt looked from the Warg to Snolt and back. "Does it change the beast's size?"

"Not that I've noticed, no." Snolt shook his head. "It's not a Spring trick, after all. Summer's just about making things last. Besides, isn't that warbuck big enough?"

With a snort, Matt nodded. "True enough. I'll definitely have to learn that one." Then he paused. "Did you have one more?"

Snolt hesitated, his expression suddenly worried. He checked the lifeguards one more time, and then lowered his voice to the point that Matt had to lean forward to hear it. "There's one other one. It's something Gran made herself. Don't know where she found the time, watching out for us and making this. too. I call it Gran's Gift."

The Goblin checked the lifeguards again and nodded. "The trick needs a connection to another person. Someone you know well, and who knows you well. When that person is using a trick or a-a spell," the word seemed difficult for Snolt, for some reason, "You can boost the power of it. Not by much, but just enough to make the difference sometimes."

Matt felt his eyes go very, very wide. "You've tried it?"

Snolt grinned at him. "Sure, every so often. The range isn't far, and the boost isn't by very much, but it's enough. The person might not know anything happened, though. After all, it's just a little boost."

With the flaring Fire Source inside him, Matt pondered that statement for a moment. He nodded slowly. "Any other limitations?"

"The less you know someone or care about them, the less effect it has. Also, you can only boost one person and one spell at a time, no matter how much you work at it. At least, that's all Gran and I ever managed to get done." Snolt smiled fondly, as if reliving good memories. "Still, it's made all the difference a time or two. I could tell."

Matt studied the Goblin. "Have you boosted me with it?"

Snolt looked a little guilty for a moment. "Maybe once or twice. You're already powerful enough it was hard to tell if it did anything, though."

He grinned at the Goblin and shook him by the shoulder for a moment. "It's not a problem, Snolt. You did fine." Then he glanced at the lifeguards. "How many Sources have you built for this, over the years?"

The Goblin shrugged, suddenly bashful. "Only eight or so. They get a lot harder to focus on the more you do, and mine were never very strong to begin with." He sighed. "Had to get about two for each trick just to make them useful, and even then…"

Matt nodded. "These are excellent sp-tricks. Excellent tricks." He nodded a second time and made his voice more serious. "I think I'm going to have to ask something more from you, though."

Snolt blinked. An expression of dread washed over his features. "What is it, sire?"

"The moment we get back to Redspire, you're going to need to break all your Sources." A look of devastation washed over Snolt's features, but Matt continued in the same even tone. "Then I am going to stick you in a room with Melren, and you're going to learn how to build them back the right way. Once you learn that, you're going to teach the rest of your Riders to do the same thing, and they are all going to learn these tricks."

The Goblin's expression had gone from relief to joy to existential dread in less time than Matt could have ever expected. "B-but sire, a man shouldn't…"

"I won't tell any of them why. The Irregulars and the Mage-Errants should already show that I am interested in teaching Low Folk magic." Matt let his expression turn a little stern. "You can hide the source of the tricks from the others, and blame me for the lessons—but when the time comes, you will learn, and you will share this with the rest of the Kingdom. All right?"

Snolt stared back at him, stunned now. After a long moment, the Goblin sighed and hung his head in agreement. Despite his air of resignation, Matt still felt like he could see some of the excitement leaking through, and he grinned. "Come on, then. Help me to learn what your Gran taught you. Maybe we can both do her some honor."

The Captain grumbled something under his breath and then nodded. Moments later, he set to guiding Matt through the motions of the 'tricks' he'd learned, and Matt had to suppress his excitement. Finally, after far too long, he was going to have his magic again—and once he did, nothing the Alliance could do would stop him.