Rise of Tyrus

Elegant white words floated in mid-air before Tyrus, curving into place as if written by an invisible hand. They glistened softly, each new stroke appearing in a faint burst of light before settling into clean, glowing script, and repeating the process.

Tyrus grimaced and looked away. Instead, he let his eyes drift through the window into Erza's shop.

Shelves lined every wall, stacked with metal tools, oddly shaped swords, tomes sealed with iron clasps, and rows of colorful vials arranged in neat glass trays. Past the shelving stood the counter, where Erza was dealing with a man wearing a thick coat.

He shifted uncomfortably. His fingers twitched toward the place where his enchanted coat used to hang over his shoulders.

The coat was no more. After taking the brunt of the mana explosion on the hill, its enchantments had fully ceased. The cloth refused to shift forms no matter how much mana he poured into it, no matter how many times he tried to command it. And the large hole made wearing it absurd.

It had been one of his few real possessions, and one of his treasures. It had protected him more times than he could count. He was alive because of that coat. And now he had to tell Ivy... and Erza.

He winced just imagining her reaction. Erza didn't seem like the type to deliver gentle scoldings, unless it was directed at her daughter. The first time he'd met her, her gaze had nearly frozen him on the spot. She was sharp-tongued and completely unafraid to speak her mind. If anything, Tyrus expected a full barrage of insults for not taking proper care of the garment.

She might trap him in ice. Or dunk him in freezing water for a week. He swallowed hard at the possibilities.

Maybe I should just go back to the guild and never speak of this again—

"Tyrus!"

The joyful voice startled him so badly that he flinched.

He turned and found Ivy approaching, her gray fur-lined coat brushing softly against her legs as she walked. Her sun-kissed hair was tied back with a blue ribbon, and her sky-colored eyes sparkled as she reached him. A small satchel was slung over her shoulder, bouncing against her hip.

"H-hey," Tyrus said, trying—and failing—to compose himself. "How long were you standing there?"

"Not long," Ivy replied, smiling. "I saw you staring into the shop and came over. What are you doing out here? Waiting for Fiona? You're usually with her—or the others."

Tyrus shook his head. "They're at the Explorer Guild. They have something important to tell Selena regarding the Lockhart business."

"Oh." Ivy tilted her head. "So you're here to talk to me and Mother?"

He hesitated and said, "I… yeah. There's something I need to speak to you both about."

Ivy blinked once, then gave him a curious look. Her eyes flicked down his front and gestured at his bare arms.

"…Where's your coat? It's pretty cold, you know. Winter's only a few weeks away. Aren't you freezing?"

Tyrus would be lying if he said he wasn't. The wind knifed across his exposed neck and forearms every time a breeze passed.

"I'm fine," Tyrus said.

Ivy squinted. "Liar. You're shivering."

He laughed weakly. "You know what? I should… probably head back to the guild."

He turned to leave, but Ivy grabbed his arm without hesitation.

"Nope. You said you needed to talk to me and my mother, so come on over!"

She pulled him in before he could even object.

When the door opened, a wave of warm air greeted him, bringing with it the smells of metal, books, and herbs. Deadly weapons hung on the walls, arranged by type and size. Enchanted tools hummed faintly on their hooks, and tomes sealed with colored wax sat behind protective glass.

Erza's voice carried from the counter as she finished her conversation with the thick-coated customer—a clean-shaven man with greying hair slicked back, pearl-rimmed spectacles, and a face worn rough like leather. He packed several vials and a communication tool into the pouches of his belt, then offered Erza a curt nod before turning.

As he passed, his pale eyes fixed briefly on Tyrus before he stepped into the bustling plaza outside and disappeared into the crowd.

Ivy tugged Tyrus toward the counter. "Mother! Tyrus came to talk to us!"

Erza's eyes lifted from the pouch of coin on the counter. She eyed him up and down and scoffed.

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"You've grown somewhat in a year," she said plainly. "I can see that much. You'd better be here to buy something. You've been earning plenty of sil from the Explorer Guild. Don't tell me you're already spending it on pointless things."

Tyrus opened his mouth... and closed it repeatedly, standing there like a fish fresh out of a pond.

Erza's brows raised. "Ivy, what's wrong with the boy?"

Ivy patted Tyrus's back. "Are you okay?"

He squeezed his eyes shut, drawing a deep breath.

What did he need to be afraid of? He survived many encounters and battles with beasts and people far more terrifying than she. It wasn't like Erza would go out of her way to make him suffer in front of Ivy, right?

If she tried trapping him in ice, he could use Beast Transformation and augmentation to escape. Yeah... that was it! He just had to run faster than Erza could lift a finger.

Tyrus's eyes opened, and his face took on a stern look.

"I would like to say sorry for what I'm about to show you..."

White sparks danced above Tyrus's outstretched hands. They swirled and coalesced, taking on a folded form. Then, a coat materialized, jet black and rent wide across the chest, the fabric ripped and burned.

Ivy gasped, hand flying to her mouth. A vein pulsed in Erza's temple. One of her eyes twitched.

"…Explain yourself now," she said in a low voice. "While I am still calm."

Tyrus swallowed so hard it hurt.

I knew this was a bad idea!

Just to be safe, Tyrus shifted a little closer to Ivy, using her as a human shield, a move that Erza did not miss, if her raised eyebrow meant anything. Clearing his throat, he began recounting everything that had led to the coat's destruction, sparing a few details.

He left out the mysterious figure who had nearly taken his head, along with Scourge's involvement. So he offered the simplified truth: the Subterranean responsible for collapsing the mine in Cliffview, the pursuit up the hill, and the questioning that ended far too abruptly.

He explained how the rune-inscribed collar on the creature activated mid-interrogation, blasting the entire hilltop with a mana explosion he barely escaped from. Only augmentation and the enchanted coat—his blessed, wonderful coat—saved him from being reduced to pieces.

When he finished, he bowed so deeply his nose nearly hit the counter.

"I'm really sorry," he muttered. "For ruining your coat. And for wasting such a valuable gift."

Ivy gazed at, then repeated, "Your coat, you mean. It's not ours. I gave it to you."

"But..."

"And you came here acting like you committed a crime." Ivy let out a light laugh, elbowing him playfully. "Don't tell me this is why you were acting so nervous outside?"

Heat crept up Tyrus's neck. Ivy giggled and said:

"Tyrus, the coat's enchantment of minimal protection is meant to save someone from serious wounds if they're caught off guard. It's not something you hang on a wall and worship as a relic."

She lifted the ruined coat, running her fingers over the torn fabric with a soft, bittersweet smile.

"If it broke keeping you alive," she said, "then it did what it was made for. That means it fulfilled its purpose. I've fully repaid the debt I owed you for saving my life. We're even."

Tyrus' lips parted slightly. Before he could form a proper response, Ivy hummed thoughtfully.

"Though… I did tell Mother that Ironworks enchantments have been lacking lately. I heard Conjuration Sorcerers have been experimenting with thinner thread pathways to cut costs—"

"Ivy." Erza pinched the bridge of her nose. "Not everyone needs to hear the inner framework of pseudo-artifacts. Save it for the customers who pretend to care."

Ivy's cheeks grew red, realizing she'd wandered too far, and offered a sheepish apology.

"Look, you shouldn't beat yourself up," she said, examining the garment. "The internal threads are fried. The explosion ripped them to shreds, so the mana can't flow. They function like our own pathways, just… not living. And once a rune scribbled on those pathways breaks, the enchantment fails."

Pathways? Runes? Circulation?

Tyrus's mind reeled from the sudden influx of information. He had some understanding of how pseudo-artifacts and magical tools worked. But this was a lot more than he thought. He hadn't realized how precise and fragile their internal structure could be. That their framework mirrored a sorcerer's, and that runes acted like anchors to keep mana flowing.

Ironworks creations suddenly felt less like objects and more like… imitations of life?

Maybe it wouldn't hurt to study this. There may be a book somewhere in Selena's manor he could read, or he could attend a class at the academy, assuming they would let him. Most of his knowledge came from books or random overheard conversations. And he didn't know any Conjuration Sorcerers he could ask to learn more.

Those in that specialization were probably special, keeping their secrets locked behind Ironworks walls or facilities, where they tinkered with runes and crafted tools for who knows what.

He rubbed the edge of his Scourge ring with his thumb, feeling the trace amount of mana inside it, just waiting to be commanded.

Tyrus glanced up only to find Ivy staring at him curiously.

"What?" Tyrus asked.

She looked at her mother, then back at him. "Can we order a replacement? Maybe even send in another commission to Ironworks?"

Erza placed the ruined coat into a small wooden box, scoffing.

"Do you two believe sil grows like weeds? Commissioning something like this would cost more than what most bronze explorers make in a year."

Tyrus's ears perked up instantly.

"I—I'll pay for it!"

Erza turned slowly. Then she burst into laughter.

"Boy," she said, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye, "do you actually think you have enough sil to pay for a pseudo-artifact? Even the cheapest ones cost—ah, never mind. You don't want to know."

"Mother!" Ivy pouted. "Don't tease him! He's being serious!"

She turned back to Tyrus, smiling warmly. "I'll help you choose the design. Your last coat looked too gloomy. How about dark blue? And maybe some designs this time?"

Erza flicked Ivy's forehead lightly. "Don't get ahead of yourself. He hasn't even told me his budget."

Ivy puffed her cheeks, crossing her arms. "You never let me do the fun parts."

Erza ignored her daughter and raised an appraising brow at Tyrus.

"Well?" she asked. "How much sil are you prepared to lose? Even the weakest pseudo-artifacts are expensive—time, materials, rune alignment, everything. But…"

She cupped her chin, glancing up thoughtfully before fixing him with a mischievous smile. Erza leaned forward over the counter.

"You know what? Lay down your sil or any mana cores in your possession," she said sweetly, "and anything valuable you have. We'll take a look and figure it out."

Tyrus's stomach dropped.

"…Are you joking?" he whispered.

"No," Ivy stated, her voice devoid of emotion. "Mother never jokes around when it's about work."

Erza tapped the counter twice. "I don't have all day, Explorer Tyrus. Let's see what you're willing to sacrifice."

Tyrus swallowed, taking a hesitant step. He slowly reached out a trembling hand toward the counter and, with a mix of dread and resignation, began spitting out the items from the Scourge ring, one after another.