Amelia

I stood there, in shock, as I took in the sight of the Archive. The shriveled husks lay against the tree in a contorted and clutching fashion. The tree itself was some pale white wood that seemed to form a large knot at the base before sprouting into several branches and reaching up to tear at the metal above. The floor around the tree appeared to be cracked as if the arbor organism had swelled before tearing at the roof. Several flat sunstones appeared to be embedded in the roof of the archive, bathing the room in a sickly yellow light. The blank rolls of parchment covered the ground and a few stuck to the surface within the room, some sliding down or falling off the metal surfaces with a loud plop. Brokil let out a pained gasp as he knelt there, taking in the sight. “It is lost. The knowledge is lost.” He gasped.

I turned to him, confused. “That's What You're Concerned About?” I asked sharply. “What About The Bodies? What On Earth Happened To Them?”

Dumag let out a small scoff as he stepped into the room and approached one of the husks. “I would not concern myself with them. Now that I see these, I can determine what happened here.” He grabbed one of the husks by the leg and lifted it, causing it to peel away in that same clutching position it had been in for who knows how long. “The city was attacked, by Dryads it would seem. They wished to rid the mountain of orcish presence and in doing so trapped themselves in the Archive. However, this did not kill them.” He used the husk to point towards the ceiling. “The only way to kill a Dryad is to destroy their tree. Since there is a crack in the roof, the Archive is likely enchanted in such a way as to prevent these forest spirits from drawing from their tree. These dryads were trapped within and had to force their way through the enchantment and escape, leaving behind their plunder of the Archive. It would seem we are beneath the lake we drank from last night.”

I stared apprehensively at the husk as Dumag waved it around nonchalantly. “So those aren't bodies? Just . . . what would you even call those?”

Dumag looked at the husk he was holding and then at the dozen or so other husks around the room. “If I were to give these a name, it would be ‘empty forms'. It is not elegant, but it is the most accurate description I can create.” I was hesitant about the idea, but I rationalized it as I stared at these ‘forms'. There were fewer features than I'd originally thought. They didn't look anything like Mabel and they certainly didn't look like they could move. Their face was a basic plate with only the slightest protrusion for a nose and depressions for the eyes. The hands also lacked some details and their torso, through very convincing for a body, was also unmoving and giving the ‘forms' a statue-esque look. Dumag was able to wave the husk around so easily yet it could not budge from its ancient position.

I took a deep breath as I forced myself to calm and look at the ceiling as more water dripped down from above. “So, they, what, pried the roof open?”

Dumag nodded as he looked at the tree then gazed up. “It would seem so.” The top of the room was made of the same metal as the rest of the room, but it had the structural weakness of being made of multiple pieces, four of which met in the center and was where the tree had pried them down to let the water in. “Or them out.” I reminded myself. Dumag looked around the room. “In any case, it would seem the knowledge that was stored here is lost. I side with Brokil on mourning the tragedy of the knowledge that was once here. At worst these invaders were delayed and forced to give up their forms. At best they were prevented from robbing the Archive of the artifacts we now seek. I have no sympathy for those that would force an orc from their home, even if they do not pledge allegiance to Gashur's.” I nodded slowly as I rubbed my head and stared at the room. There were boxes of items and dozens of miscellaneous staves resting on a long table running along the walls of the Archive. The boxes were the simple crate you'd expect in one of those old shipping places, just big enough to carry, except stylized with brass instead of the iron you'd normally see. Some of the boxes were open and filled with water. The staves were topped with a wide variety of gemstones. More boxes and staves were beneath the long table and sat untouched. I turned towards Oghash as I let out another sigh. She seemed to be glaring subtly towards the mage that had screamed, one of the two that had originally been with her who now had her hand clamped over her mouth as she stood there timidly.

I cleared my throat a bit and drew her full attention. “You got what you wanted, a gauntlet that does god knows what else besides open this door. Now we both have access to the Archive. Though it seems all the texts in here were destroyed in a flood. So, that leaves the magical artifacts to take. I trust we can agree on how to divide up those artifacts?”

Oghash looked down at the gauntlet covering her hand, turning it over to examine its design. She then looked at the massive room within and finally nodded. “I believe an arrangement can be made.” She agreed. I nodded as I turned and approached Brokil, the others walking past to enter the Archive and beginning their search.

I knelt beside him and placed a hand on his shoulder as he continued to sit there. “Are you doing okay?”

Brokil reached down and peeled one of the damp pieces of parchment away from the floor. It kept its shape for a minute before a piece tore away and fell back to the ground with a loud splat. He let out a defeated sigh as he let the rest fall with it. “It is gone, everything they knew. Everything they discovered. All of it is gone.”

I nodded as I looked up and towards the others. They were pulling out boxes and opening them or examining waterlogged items. “Look on the bright side, we have the physical artifacts. We can probably study them to reconstruct the enchantments.”

Brokil nodded slowly as he looked up at the Archive. “Still, there may be hundreds of spells we will no longer have the chance to study. Rituals and incantations that could not possibly function without an artifact. Now we may never know of them.”

I nodded as I followed his gaze and considered the possibilities. “With what I heard about in basic magic, there could be a lot of rituals that were lost. Though I'm guessing the Institute already has a number of them. Is there one, in particular, you were hoping to find in there?”

Brokil sat there quietly as he seemed to debate telling me. Finally, he let out a breath and lowered his voice as he turned to me. “It may seem rather foolish, but I had heard a rumor of a spell that could allow one to momentarily speak to those that they had lost. I figured if any place would have the spell, it could be the Archive. Now I may never know if the spell even existed.”

My face fell as a somber feeling radiated through my body. “Is . . . is there someone, in particular, you wanted to use it for?”

Brokil was silent for another moment before answering. “I had hoped to speak to my old master one last time if only to say goodbye. What had happened long ago was so sudden. One moment he was here the next he was gone. I thought I had a chance, but now . .” He lifted his hands slightly before putting them back down in defeat. “I have lost it.”

I stifled my emotions as I nodded along to his aspirations. “I can understand what that's like. There're always people we wish we could talk to again. Sometimes it's what drives us to do better in life. Still, there are probably more opportunities than this. Despite this setback, I'm sure you'll eventually find a spell that can do what you want. In the meantime, I think the Archive still has some artifacts of its own to study.”

Brokil nodded as he let out a sigh and rubbed the side of his face a bit. He then stood and nodded as he stared into the Archive. “You have a point. Come, let us explore what the Archive has to offer.” I nodded and followed him as Brokil stepped forward and joined the others inside.

The Archive was meant to be a storage place of magical inventions for a lost city. So I expected some unique items other than the spellstones. Unfortunately, it would seem many of their inventions were the same as those the Institute already had, save for a few that seemed specifically designed for the city. There were lanterns with miniature sunstones, blankets that seemed to absorb the light around them, and some staves that Brokil says were enchanted to allow the user to morph the stone around them. With each unique item that was identified, Dumag would grab a few and stuff them into one of his pouches, the staff disappearing completely as he slid it in. I made a note to ask him about it once we were on our way back. It wasn't until the last half dozen boxes were left that we finally found the one holding what we were looking for. I was rummaging through a box of necklaces shaped like eyes when the sound of blasting water came from behind me. I quickly turned to identify the noise and one of Oghash's mages, holding a palm-sized stone as it spat water into the air. Another of Oghash's mages stood beside her, not having left her side since they'd first come in through the beacon. The water quickly died as the first mage looked a bit panicked holding it and Oghash let out a bark of approval. “Excellent work, Yotul. Come, toss a few over so that we may learn of the limits of these stones.” ‘Yotul' paused for a moment then nodded as she reached into the box in front of her and pulled out a few stones. She then turned and tossed one to each of Oghash's group while her friend reached in and grabbed her own spellstone.

Dumag left his box of things to walk over and examine the stones for himself as Oghash and her friends grinned down at the ones they were holding. Suddenly, their stones shot out a range of fire, lightning, and stone, the fire specifically coming very close to Oghash as she held her stone. This caused her to quickly direct it away and swat at a spot on her head. “Holy crap,” I exclaimed under my breath.

Oghash shouted in rage as she tamped the non-existent fire on her head. “Sarding Fext It, Yotul! Warn Us Next Time You Give Me A Dangerous Stone!”

Yotul looked towards the box in a panic as Dumag finally arrived. “I-I d-didn't know the stone w-were different.” She stammered sheepishly. She continued to stammer a defense as Dumag reached into the box and pulled out a stone of his own. He turned it over in his hand then glanced into the box.

Dumag then turned to Yotul as she continued to stammer. “Calm yourself. You are not at fault in this regard. The contents are nothing but a pile of gemstones. It would seem they had no regard for sorting their creations, but that does not mean we cannot use these. It only means we must take caution in handling them.”

Oghash's angered expression seemed to die slightly as she glanced at the stone in her hand. “Sarding fext it. I would have preferred to know of the unlabeled nature of the stones before being given such a dangerous variant.”

Dumag nodded as he pulled out more stones one by one and set them on the table, filling the room with a repeating clack sound. “Being over-eager creates a tendency for dangerous situations. Be glad that you had enough sense to direct the stone away from your face.”

Oghash's irritated expression returned as she watched Dumag divide the box into two piles, one on each side of the box. “Do not act so high and mighty. You would have blundered in the same manner as any of us would have.”

Dumag let out a low growl as he finished sorting through the box and turned towards Oghash. “I assure you, Madam, when I handle range capable items, I would not be inclined to direct them anywhere near myself. It is foolish to aim a bow at oneself.”

Oghash opened her mouth to retort, but I quickly intervened by loudly barking at both of them. “Don't Go And Start Anything. It doesn't matter what anyone would or could have done, we still have the stones anyway. Arguing is just going to get everyone mad and start a fight neither of us needs right now.” Oghash glared at Dumag as he stared back.

After a minute of silence, Dumag finally let out a sigh and pushed one of the piles further away from the box. “In any case, since these stones are the goal of both our expeditions, I have divided them into two piles. Unfortunately, there are no markings that distinguish type. As such, I have divided them by number alone. In the grand scheme of things, we are equally likely to possess the same number of the various possibilities of spellstone. I trust we can agree to walk away with our respective lots?”

Oghash was silent for a minute as she scowled in Dumag's direction then finally nodded as she walked towards the box. “I believe that arrangement may be adequate.” She then ignored Dumag and slid the pile further away from the box, causing Yotul and her friend to follow. Dumag nodded and gestured for us to join him as Oghash and her group gathered around the pile she had pulled aside. I walked over as Dumag reached into his satchel and pulled out another empty pouch.

I bent to look curiously at his satchel as he began placing the spellstones in the new pouch. “How many of those do you have?” I asked quietly.

Dumag placed about a dozen stones in the pouch before handing the bag to Brokil and answering. “When I heard that Bruga was planning for a journey to the Archive, I made several pouches. The archive was undoubtedly filled with many sizable artifacts that would be difficult to carry back in one trip. As such, bringing more space was the obvious solution.” I nodded as Dumag pulled out another pouch and began filling it while pointing towards the one Brokil was holding. “Do you believe that will be adequate to begin rebuilding their method of enchantment? Or will you require more stones?”

Brokil weighed the bag in his hand slightly as he seemed to think. “I may require more,” He finally said. “but with Gremach's assistance, I may be able to determine the method. I may end up destroying a few stones in the process of experimentation, but it would seem we have plenty to work with.”

Dumag nodded as he closed his magic pouch up, still leaving several dozen stones on the table. “Excellent. I advise the rest of you to take stones of your own. You may wish to experiment with them in your own time, at least to grow used to working with stones that make spells all their own. Whatever is left we can give to the Repository.” I nodded again as everyone stepped forward and took their stones from the pile. Brokil also took about six more stones, adding them to the bag he'd been given as Gremach and Salthu took some of their own. Bruga was a little hesitant at first but grabbed a dozen stones from the pile once gently prompted to by Dumag. I was the last one to take from the pile, grabbing all but half a dozen murky rocks. I took just enough to give me and Dexter about nine stones each, slipping them into my bag as Dumag pulled out one more pouch and poured the last of the stones into it. “Excellent. Now that we have what we came for, we can turn our attention to the rest of the Archive's mysteries. For the sake of Salthu's honor, let us hope Dexter was successful in his goal to make it to the Repository in time.” I nodded as we left the empty box and split up to sort through more crates of artifacts. I juggled the potential outcomes of Dexter's idea as I pulled out another bundle of staves and began examining them. Brokil joined me and waved his hand over the bundle as one final thought drifted through my mind. “It's out of our hands. We won't know what happened until we return. I just hope he doesn't push himself too hard.”

Dexter

My legs have never hurt so badly in my entire life. I ran for what felt like an eternity, using teleport as often as I could to move forward a few dozen yards and regretting it more and more with each jump. Somewhere along the way, the heat from my body fogged up my glasses and I had to shove them in with the crown. I wanted to slow down, to take a break from running. However, I couldn't stop, not with the mage I was currently racing. Every time I thought I'd put enough distance between me and her to slow down, she'd appear in front of me, panting and holding her stomach. I cursed myself every time I saw her and sprinted past, for not learning long-range teleport, for not building up more endurance, for even challenging myself to this race in the first place. My lungs ached and sweat poured from my face as my feet pounded along the ground.

As I got closer to the city my annoyance at the mage gradually turned to aggravation then to rage. I wanted so badly to do something to her, anything to express my annoyance at her determination but stopped as I reasoned how a fight between the two of us would go. “She's leagues above you in terms of magic. She could rip you to shreds before you even throw up a barrier. The only advantage you have is endurance. Use It.” I let out a roar of anger as I ran past her again. This time she was wearing the yellow shawl she'd looted. I gritted my teeth as I cast three more teleports in quick succession. My stomach protested loudly to the strain and I stumbled, nearly falling over, once I got out of the third teleport.

I felt my heart pounding throughout my entire body as I continued running, my teeth aching as I panted heavily. In. Out. In. Out. In. Out. I felt my stomach cramp and my shins hurt like hell as I pushed myself to keep up the pace, internally berating myself along the way. “You Call That Running? A Fucking Toddler Could Outrun You! This Should Be A Fucking Cakewalk To You! Dad Would Be So Disappointed In How Little Effort You're Putting Into This!” I let out a roar of rage as I felt a surge of adrenaline and continued running. The mage suddenly appeared in front of me again and I let out another bellow of anger as I sprinted past.

I felt like my body was on fire. I felt the heat trapped beneath my soaked shirt. I just wanted to lay down and fucking pass out. I reached the point of a half-delirious ‘fuck it' before I tore my shirt down the middle in a rage, turning it into an open vest that doubled as a sweat rag. I increased my efforts as I gained new energy from this and saw the city in the distance. “You Can Do This. You Can Beat Thi- MOTHERFUCKER!” The mage was in front of me again, stumbling across the field between me and the city. I gritted my teeth and ignored the cramps as I prepared another series of teleports. I was a hundred yards behind her, then fifty, then twenty. I dashed past her again and kept going. Thirty yards ahead, then seventy then a hundred. The wall was quickly approaching, and I used what little thought I could spare to visualize a path to the Institute. “Other Side Of The Fucking City. God Fucking Damn It!”

I continued to teleport as I felt the nauseousness grow and my face burning with heat. The wall grew closer with each jump and I prepared to jump through the wall itself. “Bad idea, unknown buildings on the other side. Collision: possible. Material interference: dangerously likely. FUCK IT.” I teleported a few feet from the wall and materialized on the other side, immediately tripping over a trough and falling into the mud in a pigpen. I heard the snorts and scramblings of startled pigs as I laid there. “hey, this looks like a good place to take a break. NO! GET UP! GET UP! GET UP!” I desperately crawled to my feet and went back to sprinting, uselessly wiping the mud off my face with my dirt-caked hands. I teleported past the fence and into the street, likely startling everyone that saw me. I ignored them and sprinted towards the Institute, muddy footprints trailing behind me. I felt my legs protest even more as the dirt I'd been running on was now hard stone and the amount of stress I was going through felt like it tripled in intensity.

I rounded the corner and heard the chatter of a crowd in the distance. I had but a moment to see the bright colors of a market place before I was tackled into an alleyway by an unknown force. I blindly grappled with them as they pushed me into the darkness and I choked out a few words. “Let go. . . got . . to . . Institute!”

The mud on my face was muffling my voice slightly and my hands were beginning to shake, but somehow my ears were still working perfectly. “You cannot, not this way. They will see you.” I looked down and saw the orc that had pushed me. My vision was blurry and fading to fuzz with every heartbeat, but I could tell I was covering her in dirt with my grappling. She still looked at me sternly as she pinned me against a building. “You need another path.” She whispered firmly. “The caravan is that way. You cannot let them see you.”

I nodded weakly as a part of me understood what she was saying, and I felt a massive wave of nausea go through me. “Another . . way,” I confirmed. She finally released me and I placed my hand heavily on my knees as my stomach threatened to empty itself from the strain. “Pulse: check. Consciousness: check. Adrenaline: low. ATP reserves: might as well be empty.”

I felt her tap my shoulder to get my attention and I looked up to see her pointing somewhere behind me. “That way.” She said. I turned to see her pointing in the direction of the Great Hall, all the way up to the top. The nauseousness turned to a sinking feeling as she continued. “The most direct route is past the Hall. They did not build very far up the hill. You can go around them if you go that way.” I nodded as I turned and prepared another teleport, estimating the distance between me and the road beyond.

I turned to her as I finished preparations and braced for the disorientation. “Thanks . . . for . . help.” I coughed. I had just enough time to see her nod encouragingly before the sick feeling came full force and I materialized on another road. I gave myself no time to recover and began stumbling up the hill, towards the Institute. “GO! GO! GO! GO! GO!” I regretted allowing myself to slow down as it allowed my body to become aware of all the alarms that were beginning to blare in my body. “Internal temperature, high. Thermoregulatory system: barely operational. Digestive diagnostic: unstable.” I pushed forward as I teleported again and ignored the alarms. “Don't Fucking Allow Her To Win! Not After Running So Fucking Far! Run You Slow Bastard!” The nausea was getting worse, far worse than I had ever felt. It took all my willpower to keep moving and keep my lunch down. I pushed forward, climbing the hill, and walking through the haze that was becoming my vision. After what felt like another eternity I was over the crest and passing the Great Hall. I let out a groan as I forced another teleport. I kept pushing as I held onto the thought of the mage being right behind me, or worse at the Repository. In-Out-In-Out-In. I stumbled by more buildings and down more streets as I glanced around for the telltale yellow of the mage.

It felt like it took forever, a painful and aching forever, but I finally found myself pushing through the front door of the Institute. I staggered through the halls and doorways as the dizziness disrupted my sense of balance. I shook my head to clear it as I imagined the mage finalizing the paperwork even as I tripped through the hallways. I bumped into the wall as I rounded the corner and approached the door to the Repository. I felt the sweat drip down my face and into my eyes as I forced my legs even further. I let out an exhausted sigh as I finally put my hand on the large door and pushed, shakily stumbling into the pristine room. I began walking forward and fumbling with my pocket as I made my way to the front desk. I gasped and slowed as my chest was filled with relief and I saw no one else in front of me, just orcs on either side of me giving me startled looks. I clawed the pouch out of my pocket and shakily pulled at the opening, shoving my hand in as I exhaustedly rested my dirt-caked shoulder on the clean wood of the front desk. I was vaguely aware of the voice behind the bars ask me “Can I help you?” as fumbled with the bag. “In-Out-In-Out.”

I panted heavily as I finally grabbed the crown of bones and pulled it out, slamming it on the counter as I blurted out three words before collapsing onto the floor. “REGISTER . . FIND . . ARCHIVE! . .uuuhhhh.” Thump I felt myself tremble as I lay there on the floor, panting, nauseous, and very close to passing out. I heard the creaking of a chair behind the counter and a pair of eyes on me as I fought desperately to stay conscious. My shins hurt. My lungs hurt. My teeth were sore. I could probably go on for several hours with how many parts of me hurt and how hot I was right now. Instead, I just panted and stared up at the ceiling of the repository. “Holy FUCK!” I barked hoarsely. Even those two words seem to hurt as if my body wanted to refuse to do anything for an entire week after that mess.

I heard the voice behind the counter speak again as I sweated against their clean floor. “Are you alright? Do you need healing?”

I instinctively shook my head as I lifted my hand and began shakily rasping off what I need. “No time, . . but I do think . . I need; . . an empty bucket, . . about a gallon . . of water, . . and a clean towel. . . I think . . I'm going to throw up, . . I'm really fucking thirsty, . . and I need . . to get this shit . . off of me.” I heard the creak of a chair and receding footsteps as my chest continued to heave. I felt the ground beneath me quickly heat up and begin reflecting that heat back as I lay there. A sick feeling began rising from my stomach. “Shit. I don't think they're going to make it with the bucket.” I weakly rolled over and climbed to my hands and knees as I felt my willpower to stifle the puke fading. I was on the verge of hurling before I heard the creak of an old hinge and I looked up in time to see an orc shaped blur walk in my direction, dragging a sloshing barrel and carrying a wooden bucket. He appeared to see my sickened expression and quickly tossed the bucket in my direction. I clumsily grabbed at it, but only succeeded in batting it in the direction of my face. It hit my cheek and I had barely enough time to grab and right it before my stomach finally gave out and I let out a loud puking noise. It lasted for a few seconds and the acidic stench of liquid bread and meat rose to greet me. I spat the taste out of my mouth as the orc dragged the small barrel beside me and set it down with a loud clunk.

His calming voice penetrated my sickened haze as I knelt there. “Sadly, clean skins are not something readily available in the Repository. I can send someone down to the storehouse for some, but it may take a while.”

I nodded as I shakily climbed to my feet and gripped the sides of the barrel. “Go ahead . . and do that.” I croaked. “I'll be here, . . trying to rehydrate.” I then took a deep breath and plunged my face into the barrel, taking big gulps of clean delicious water. I felt the cold liquid travel down my throat and chill me from the inside. It sent a satisfying shiver down my back and I felt myself grin as I continued gulping down mouthfuls of water. After several seconds submerged I came up and took gasping lungfuls of air. “Fucking . . shit.” I slurred. “I am going . . to be so . . incredibly sore . . in a couple of hours.”

The orc's calming voice again came to my attention as he asked me a question. “Perchance could you tell me from whence you came? Surely you did not come from Vedug. That journey takes a day at the fastest.”

I nodded in confirmation as I took more hoarse breaths of air. “I actually did. . I think I pulled . . some muscles in the . . process, but I . . did run from there. . . Took all of . . about three hours, . . but I did it.”

The orc gave me a surprised expression. “That cannot be possible. Even the single-day journey is difficult to accomplish. Why would you even attempt such a feat?”

I took more gulping breaths as I thought about how to explain the situation, but it partially solved itself as the doorway on the far side of the room burst open and hit the wall with a loud BANG. Everyone turned to identify the noise and I saw the now all too familiar yellow blur that was the mage I'd been racing. I pointed a trembling finger in her direction as I explained. “I've been . . racing her. . Our teams both found . . the Archive, but . . my group . . found it first. . . . . Aaahahah shit.” I felt my legs give out again and I collapsed on my back to the floor, panting. I turned as I became aware of another set of ragged gasps filling the room. The mage was staggering forward, towards the front of the room. I let out an annoyed growl as I realized she hadn't noticed me yet. “Don't . . Fucking . . Bother,” I shouted, finally drawing her attention.

Her already exhausted expression fell even further as she saw me panting on the floor. “Aah Sard.” She gasped defeatedly, falling to the floor herself. I felt a surge of triumph as I saw her collapse and begin panting. “That's Right You Bitch! Oghash Will Not Have Her Day. Calm down there's no need for that. She put up a good fight. Hell, I'm kind of impressed that she was able to keep up for so long. I Did The Same Thing. Yeah well, you have more stamina than she does. I got to give her props for showing such dedication. She's probably in a lot more pain than me.”

I let out an exasperated growl as I resigned to congratulating her, at least for making the race close. “Got To Admit . . I Didn't Expect To . . Almost Lose This Thing. . . I Thought Maybe You'd Give Up . . Or Slow Down Somewhere . . Along The Way. . . Props To You For . . Lasting The Whole Way.” I expected her to do something in acknowledgment, look up, shift, maybe even speak. She didn't do any of that. Instead, she just lay there, heaving in and out. I let out an exhausted sigh as I crawled to my feet again and began walking over. “Don't take it too hard. . . I'm pretty sure you still broke . . a lot of your records . . with what you did. Hell, I think this is . . what gave Marathons their name.” I crouched in front of her as I took some more exhausted breaths. The yellow shawl seemed to be soaked in sweat, spreading out from where her skin was exposed to the air. Her brown hair was even wetter and looked like she had just stepped out of the shower. “So you might have just . . made history with that run. . . That's something to be proud of.” I paused as I waited for her to respond. Instead, her panting and shaking form remained unchanged as I crouched above her. I furrowed my brow as an old fitness article went drifting through my mind. “Overexertion can lead to a higher internal temperature which can lead to heatstroke if the excess energy is not dispersed.”

I tentatively reached down and felt her exposed forearm. Her skin felt like it was on fire, hotter than I thought remotely possible for a living creature. “That can't be good.” I felt a surge of energy as I reached down and grabbed onto the arms of the mage, dragging her over to the barrel near the front desk. She didn't react to the sudden movement beyond a delirious grunt. “That heat is actually impressive. I didn't even know it was possible to do that. Not now, cool her down then get back to marveling.” I let out a grunt of exertion as I tried to lift her towards the lip of the barrel. My muscles screamed in protest and gave out, leaving me sitting on the floor again as I panted away my own exhaustion. I turned to the orc that had brought the barrel of water and gestured towards the panting mage slumped in my lap. “Could you . . help me out . . here?” The orc gave me a quizzical look as he hesitated before coming forward. I pointed towards the barrel as I explained what my idea was. “Put her . . arms in . . the water. . . She's overheating. . . She needs . . to cool off.” The orc hesitantly lifted the mage and set her onto the side of the barrel, arms almost completely submerged in what used to be drinking water. I let out a groan as I stood and began pulling the bright yellow shawl off of her, removing a layer that was trapping her heat.

I eventually removed the hot and heavy skin, tossing it onto the floor beside her before sitting down, back resting heavily on the side of the barrel. I suddenly started coughing as the pain in my lungs came back in full force and I started going through the gestures for Frost. I fought through the coughing and slammed my hand on the side of the barrel as I finished the spell, causing ice crystals to sprout from the wood around my hand. I let out a cough of relief as the chill spread to my back and sent a soothing wave down it. “Note to self: Invent ice packs.”

I suddenly heard someone clear their throat and I looked up, seeing the orc staring down at me. “Do you plan on informing me what your business is here?”

I nodded as I coughed a few more times and used my free hand to scratch my head. “I'll give you the short of it. . . Our two groups were in Vedug to find the Archive. . . Mine found it, got followed by hers. . . I set off on a sprint to register the discovery before them and she followed me. . . What you're seeing is the result of that run, both of us fucking tired . . with one of us needing help with thermoregulation as a result. . . As for what I need right now, whatever document . . you guys use for registering a discovery. . . If you could get that, that would be great.” The orc stared at me in disbelief then threw his hands up as he walked off, muttering something about an Outsider's Madness. To be honest, I was too tired to care about what he said. I was just glad to finally be resting after hours of running. I let out a groan as my knees finally started their protest of the events. I gritted my teeth as I imagined the potential days if not weeks of recovery I would need from this. “The near future is going to fucking suck. I wonder if Brokil can make more of those potions.”

My pained gasps were suddenly interrupted by a groan coming from behind. I turned to see the mage lift her head and look around with bleary eyes, still panting. “W-what?. Where am I?” She muttered weakly.

I used my free hand to tap on the side of the barrel and draw her attention. “Congratulations. . . You almost beat a human in a foot race. . . Unfortunately, it would seem the long-range teleports weren't enough. . . Still, I got to give you props for pushing through heatstroke.” She scowled down at me and seemed to get ready to stand up. “I wouldn't do that,” I warned. “Your body is still overheating. . . You might need to stay in there for a while. . . Just rest there until the cold feeling . . going through you is not noticeable.”

She tried to ignore my warning and stand but stopped once it became apparent her muscles weren't going to support her weight anytime soon. “Sarding fext it. . . Oghash will not . . be pleased with this. . . A single shawl is not worthy . . for a trip like this.”

I shrugged as the pain traveled to my shins. “She might, or she might not. . . If they get the Archive open my group might decide to split the loot. . . Given the size of the door, it might be impossible to take the entire haul in one trip, . . leaving your team to take what's left. . . But that's assuming someone didn't get to it first. . . Hell, for all I know the Archive is empty . . and all we'll get out of that trip is the crown and the gauntlets.”

The mage gave me a confused expression as she knelt there. “You ran from Vedug . . without knowing if . . the Archive even held . . what you sought? . . Surely even you outsiders . . are not that mad.”

I shook my head defensively. “I didn't do it for me. . . I did it cause your friends threatened mine. . . Hell, now I remember how mad I am at you . . for your part in all that.” I used my free hand to point squarely at her. “You threatened my friends.”

The mage let out an annoyed growl as she shifted slightly. “You call them . . your friends? . . There are no friends in the Institute. . . Mages are in constant competition . . with one another. . . The only respites given are temporary alliances. . . Your so-called ‘friends' would not . . have done what you did for them.”

I let out a pained grunt as the aching moved to my feet. “Correction, they weren't able to do it this time, . . not with what they had. . . If put in a reverse situation, they'd have done the same for me. . . Still, that leaves one question . . . why did you make the journey? . . If you truly saw the group as a temporary alliance, what made you push through heatstroke? . . Why would someone go through so much for a temporary alliance?” The mage scowled at me angrily but didn't defend herself. “That's what I thought.” I spat.

I stretched slightly as the orc finally returned with a stack of parchment tucked into his arms. “You will need to fill these out.” He supplied. “There is a desk you may use, away from the clean floor you have been so kind to grace.”

I looked down at the damn, dirty, and torn rag that used to be my shirt. I could see my red and glistening chest through the tear I had made, sticking out like a very sore thumb. I then looked around at the dirty trail I'd made along the middle of the room. I let out a guilty sigh I slowly climbed to my feet, easing the pressure onto my muscles and joints. “I'm sorry about that. . . I can try to clean up the dirt if you'd like.”

The orc shook his head as he gestured briefly. “That will not be necessary.” I suddenly felt a weird pulling sensation, as if a layer was being pulled off my skin. I stared in shock as the dirt that was sticking to me and my shirt was suddenly pulled off by an invisible force. It compacted itself and was drawn to the orc. The mud I'd tracked in was also pulled up and floated past me. The particles floated there as they seemed to wait for the rest of itself. The orc suddenly clenched his fist and the floating dirt condensed itself into a compact ball, floating there as the mud was squeezed into dry dirt. After a moment of floating the sphere fell into the orcs open hand and he tossed it into the puke bucket behind him.

I rubbed my now clean face as I marveled at how simple that was. “Thanks. . . I'll try not to do that again if I can help it. . . Now then, you mentioned a desk?”

The orc nodded as he gestured towards the crown still resting on the table. “Bring your artifact. I will need to verify it to ensure it will prove your discovery.” I nodded as I limped towards the desk and grabbed the crown.

I turned and pointed towards the shawl lying beside the mage as I walked past her. “The shawl you brought . . is there when you have the strength to stand again. . . I'm sure Oghash would be furious . . if you lost that too.” She scowled at me then down at the shawl, appearing to relax a bit as I turned away and followed the orc through a doorway. He led me down a connecting hallway, towards what I can only assume to be another door, as my muscles groaned from the movement. “When Brokil gets back, I'm going to have him make more of that potion, then have him give me the recipe, then have a giant meal of bread and steak. Oh, that sounds delicious after a run like that. I just wonder if they managed to get the fucking Archive open.”