Rise of the Living Forge

A song filled Lillia’s kitchen. Knives beat a drumbeat against her cutting board, following the act of the cursed blade that Arwin had given her. Sizzling meat sang a chorus and steam whistled in the background. Black strands extended from the walls and held her pans, tossing the sautéing vegetables within them every so often. Utensils, pots, and bowls of food ferried themselves through the air. Scents mixed together in a tantalizing swirl that almost felt like watercolor mixing upon paper.

To the untrained eye, it was chaos.

But to Lillia, it was an orchestra — and she was its conductor.

The Devil’s Den thrummed beneath her feet as their power mingled.

The direct contact between her skin and the floor of the Devil’s Den was what let her connect to the building. It was still young, but it was immensely powerful. Information flowed from the building into Lillia’s mind in a steady stream, the vast majority of it entirely useless.

Its attention flitted and danced from customer to customer like a delighted fairy. It conveyed scraps of their conversations and told her of what they wore. Of what they smelled like, of what they sounded like.

But it was more than just conversations.

Within the immense storm of information was more than what could be observed with the eye or ear.

The Devil’s Den told Lillia of her customer’s desires.

It guided her in slight modifications to her meals. She skipped adding milk to a dish for a man that had no idea he had lactose intolerance. She put extra peppers into a dish for a man that longed for the flavors of his mother’s cooking.

As long as Lillia’s skin was in contact with the tavern, she could ensure that every single person that visited the Devil’s Den would enjoy their stay.

Of course, walking around without shoes in a kitchen normally would have been a decidedly unwise move, but she had no fear of dropping a knife or stepping on something.

The floors cleaned themselves. The knives policed themselves.

There wasn’t a single thing within the inn that Lillia wasn’t aware of.

She knew where every single customer was. She knew how many of them were still eating. How many of them were passed out drunk and being drug out into the street by their friends — and she knew that there was a woman standing in the shadows at the edge of the kitchen.

Lillia turned toward the darkness. There was no shadow that she could not see through. And yet, when she turned her senses to where the Devil’s Den told her there was a soul, there was nothing. It was not dark. It was simply empty.

Her eyes were lying to her.

The Chef’s Kiss parted from its orchestra and floated to hover by her shoulder, swaying lazily in the air. Lillia’s crossed her arms in front of her chest.

“No customers in the kitchen.”

There was a moment of silence. Then the air rippled. A woman appeared from the nothingness, clothed in pitch black robes. Her arms were crossed behind her back and the top half of her face was concealed by a hood. The only thing Lillia could make out were her lips, which were curled up in a faint, knowing smile.

“You could see me?” There was a note of respect in the woman’s words.

Lillia’s eyes narrowed. She knew who this was. Selen, the member of the Secret Eye that they’d had some dealings with before.

What are the Secret Eye doing here? Did they figure out what happened to Twelve? Or is Selen seeking me out specifically? There’s no way she could have figured out Arwin or my true identity, right?

“The kitchen isn’t safe for anyone but the chef. Please wait your turn to eat like everyone else,” Lillia said, ignoring Selen’s question entirely. She watched the dark-robed with woman warily, ready to burst into motion at a moment’s notice.

The Devil’s Den told her that the Secret Eye member had eaten within its walls recently. Her power steeped the woman, and far more than it had Twelve. Lillia could bring Selen to a grinding halt with a single word if she needed to.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“Oh, don’t be so stuffy,” Selen said. “We’re friends, aren’t we?”

“No,” Lillia replied. “We are not. You nearly caused a Dungeon Break.”

What is she playing at? Could the Secret Eye be digging for information of what we’re capable of? I can’t let my guard down. She’s not getting any information out of me.

“That wasn’t our fault,” Selen defended. “That was the Ardent guild. We were just doing our job.”

“And I am trying to do mine,” Lillia said. She sent a pointed glance back at the food that was still in the process of preparing itself.

Even though she could speak and work at the same time, controlling the kitchen and infusing every meal with magic drew a significant amount of energy. It would have been impossible without the Devil’s Den to help shoulder some of the cost. But, even with its help, it wasn’t an easy task.

“Of course. I won’t keep you long. Today is an important day for your guild,” Selen said. “I don’t want to intrude on that for any longer than is appropriate. I come bearing good news and an offer.”

“Good news?” Lillia asked, tilting her head to the side. “Generally, I’ve found that good news doesn’t come delivered by someone breaking into rooms to speak to me privately.”

A laugh slipped from Selen’s mouth and she raised a hand to cover it. “That’s a fair observation. I apologize for that. My order is used to being a little pretentious. It comes with the name. Would anyone really put much stock in our words if we showed up knocking on the door like a normal messenger?”

Lillia moved to the side as a pot whizzed past her head, bearing a bubbling stew within it. She gave Selen a slight shrug.

“I suppose not. Please make good on your offer, then. Tell me what it is that you came to say and leave.”

“We formally invite the Menagerie to the Proving Grounds,” Selen said, obliging Lillia’s request. “You have proven that your guild is uniquely capable — and we are quite interested in seeing just how capable you are.”

“And why are you asking me this instead of Ifrit?” Lillia asked. “He’s the Guildmaster. Not me.”

“Oh, come now. Don’t tell me you only do as he commands.”

The knife at Lillia’s shoulder flitted back over to her cutting board and she crossed her arms in front of her chest.

“That’s a poor attempt at a barb. We do things together. I’m not asking because I need to figure out what my man’s opinion is. I’m asking because I’m doing something right now and he — as far as I am aware — is sitting at a table. Something tells me you haven’t chosen to bother me purely because you wanted to let him get some rest. Get to the point or get out.”

Selen cleared her throat. “Fair enough. I was curious to see how strong you were. I’m more than aware you’ll be bearing any message I pass to you to him, just as he would pass the message to you.”

Lillia grunted. “And why should we accept? I don’t even know what the Proving Grounds are. What’s in it for us?”

“It’s a tournament,” Selen replied. “One hosted by the Secret Eye every year, and one of the best ways to advance your guild’s ranking at an increased rate. The concept is simple. We invite the most interesting groups we’ve found to see how they measure up against each other, then distribute rewards to those who perform the best.”

“Why?”

“Because the Secret Eye’s purpose is to catalogue the strength of all those within the Kingdom of Lian. Nothing motivates adventurers more than a reward — and fame. This will give you both.”

“And what exactly is the reward?” Lillia asked.

Selen smiled. “Other than the fame? We have information. More than any other organization in existence. And everyone has a question they want answered. Place high enough and we will give you that answer. Anything you want.”

“That’s it?” Lillia didn’t let a speck of emotion show on her face. Even if she was interested in Selen’s offer, she wasn’t going to let on about it.

“Oh, we’ll have the usual rewards as well.” Selen waved her hand in dismissal. “Gold. Materials. Gifts from the nobles sponsoring the tournament. Put on a good enough showing and you could make a very healthy amount of money from this.”

That… could be really important. Especially considering we kind of have a huge debt to the Dawnseeker guild right now. We have Raen’s bracelet, but we need to pay them as well to make up for what they lost from Twelve.

That’s not even to mention how much money it’s going to cost to build up the street. We need gold so Arwin can choose what jobs he takes on. Winning a tournament would also get the attention that both Arwin and I need to keep expanding.

“I see,” Lillia said with a small nod. “I’ll let Arwin and the rest of the guild know. If we were to accept, would we be choosing a representative? Or is our whole guild meant to be fighting?”

“Neither.” Selen’s smile grew wider. “You won’t be fighting at all. The Menagerie is a crafting guild. It would be ludicrous for us to expect you to compete with adventurers. Instead, you’ll be partnered with a group of adventurers. Every guild in the tournament will be in a similar setup."

Lillia brow furrowed as she frowned. “We’ve got to work with a guild? Which one?”

“I’ll arrange for them to pay you a visit tonight. They are fortunately already in town,” Selen said.

“Hold on,” Lillia exclaimed. “I didn’t say we would accept—”

Her words were wasted.

Selen was gone.

The Devil’s Den confirmed that the Secret Eye representative had vanished from its premises.

I’m going to have to get some sort of enchantment on the building that prevents people from teleporting around inside it. I’d love to see the look on Selen’s smug face when she can’t poof in and out wherever she wants to.

Lillia let out a huff and turned back to her counter. There was still work to do. And, despite her annoyance, Selen’s offer had hooked her.

A tournament where we have to outfit another guild instead of doing the fighting ourselves…

That could be quite interesting.