The first wagon looked so battered and worn it seemed ready to collapse under any serious weight. Clearly, nothing of value was stored there. If it was still moving, that was all that mattered. It meant the attack couldn’t begin yet. Timing was everything. The bridge had to be the stage, and the attackers would know that as well as we did.

  A firm hand on my shoulder broke my focus. I glanced back to see one scout gesturing silently toward the horizon. Only then did I notice the creeping fog rolling in around the bridge. It was faint, almost natural, but the way in which it fell into the ravine betrayed its artificial nature. The march continued, unease spreading like the fog itself.

  Then it appeared—a wagon unlike the rest. It was more a steel box than a carriage, its surface shimmering in the dim light. Thick iron barred the tiny rectangular windows, and the entire structure was sealed tight, designed to protect whatever it carried. My breath caught as the fog grew denser, swirling around the convoy like a shroud. The first box wagon was soon joined by others, six in total, rolling steadily onto the bridge.

  The fog thickened rapidly, almost swallowing the bridge and everything on it. Shouts rose from the convoy, faint but clear enough to signal their growing panic. The attackers had made their move.

  I signaled to Onas, who was already crouched nearby, his focus sharp. We’d planned for this moment down to the last detail. I reached out to the first carriage, visualizing its interior as best I could, and summoned a portal. At first, it was no larger than a coin, a faint shimmer against the dim fog. Onas crouched closer, peering through. He gave a quick thumbs-up—empty.

  Relief surged through me as I widened the portal just enough for Onas to slip inside. A faint glow from the opening lit the cramped metal interior, casting shadows against its smooth, impenetrable walls. His keen eyes adjusted quickly to the darkness, and I held the portal steady, trying to conserve my strength.

  Trinkets and gold began flowing back through the portal, minor items Onas deemed valuable enough to snatch. This was only the first wagon. The plan was to focus on the first wagon first for him to get a feel for what items were stored, then focus on the guarded ones. Each time he used the portal, it would mean fewer items we could bring back. And we needed to find the artifact.

  The fog outside grew so dense I could barely make out the bridge anymore, let alone the convoy, but at least it had stopped. We were on a timer now, since they could only stall so much. But so far, everything was going according to plan.

  He returned a few seconds later, and I was already focusing on the next wagon. It wasn’t until the fourth wagon that he signaled with both a thumbs-up and a hold sign—guards were inside. This meant it would need to be a swift maneuver. If we timed it perfectly, the guards wouldn’t have enough time to recover from the shock.

  We had rehearsed this exact scenario yesterday, and despite the pressure, I felt confident. Onas took a running start, and just as he leapt, I widened the portal. There was a dull thud as he landed inside the wagon, directly on top of one guard, silencing him with a quick, practiced strike of his knife. Before the second guard could fully react, Onas was on him, the element of surprise turning the fight decisively in his favor. Within moments, both guards were down.

  He immediately began searching the wagon. Gold coins started streaming through the portal, but unlike the first wagon, it took him longer to complete the sweep. When he finally returned, there was no artifact, just coins.

  Disappointment flickered, but I pushed it aside. We still had two more wagons. The fifth wagon turned out to be just more gold, and we skipped it, but the sixth made up for all the effort. A large, ornate metal box sat in the center of the wagon, its size and design making it unmistakable even in the dim light. In the ensuing scuffle, the box toppled over with a sharp clang of metal striking metal, the sound reverberating within the confined space. Fortunately, the commotion outside drowned it out, ensuring no one beyond the wagon noticed. After a few seconds of hesitation, he sent it through the portal.

  On the other side, Isla caught the box and quickly opened it to inspect its contents. Inside was a bracelet made of a reddish-silver alloy, unlike anything I’d ever seen. Its craftsmanship was exquisite—smooth, polished lines that gave it a distinctly futuristic feel, unlike the jewelry common in this region.

  I was so mesmerized by the artifact that I nearly lost focus on maintaining the portal. My grip wavered just as more gold began to pour through. Onas wasn’t holding back this time; he was sending entire boxes of coins. The weight was staggering.

  My vision blurred, and my muscles felt like jelly. I gritted my teeth and pushed through, but after two minutes of this relentless effort, I felt like I was at my limit. The last time I felt this exhausted was during a 10K charity run—a foolish decision I regretted halfway through, convinced I might die at the finish line. This, however, was far worse.

  Just as I thought I might pass out, Isla snapped her fingers—the signal to stop. The gold stopped flowing, and I could feel the energy drain beginning to subside. The fog outside was lifting now, and the faint sounds of shouting signaled that soldiers were swarming across the bridge. Time was up.

  She gave Onas the signal to retreat, bracing myself as he leapt back through the portal. The moment he landed near us, I let the portal collapse, the final strain hitting me like a hammer. My knees buckled, but I managed to stay conscious, gasping for air as the team was already inspecting the prize.

  “We’ve got trouble,” Onas muttered, his voice low but urgent, as Isla continued inspecting the bracelet.

  I followed his gaze and saw the soldiers gathering at the edge of the bridge, peering down into the ravine. It didn’t take a genius to figure out they’d discovered the heist. The commotion was escalating, and their focus was narrowing.

  Isla froze, then quickly dropped the artifact and turned her attention back to her illusion, reinforcing the false terrain that concealed us.

  “If they come down, how close would they have to be before they see through it?” I asked, still sprawled on the ground, struggling to regain my energy.

  “If they rappel down, there’s no way it’ll hold up under close scrutiny,” she replied, her voice tense.

  The situation was spiraling. A confrontation felt inevitable unless we took a gamble. I had to try something. “Onas, give me the bracelet. Maybe it’ll give me a boost.”

  He hesitated for a moment, but handed it over. The metal was cool in my hand, its faint glow almost inviting. Sliding it onto my arm, I felt a surge of anticipation, but it soured instantly as searing pain lanced through my body. It was the same agonizing sensation I thought I’d left behind with the portal incident. My body convulsed slightly, and it took everything I had to wrench the bracelet off.

  The pain left me weakened, shaking, and drenched in sweat. Onas and Isla exchanged worried glances, but we didn’t have time to dwell on it—the soldiers were already securing ropes and beginning their descent.

  “Isla, put the bracelet on,” I said, my voice strained.

  “Not a chance,” she shot back, her tone incredulous. “Did you see what it did to you?”

  “The pain’s something specific to me. It shouldn’t affect you,” I reasoned, though my words didn’t sound all that convincing, even to myself.

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  “That’s so reassuring,” she said dryly, though the sight of the soldiers nearing the ravine floor left little room for argument. With visible reluctance, she slipped the bracelet onto her wrist, her face twisting in a preemptive wince.

  To my relief—and hers—nothing happened beyond the bracelet’s glow intensifying slightly. “I don’t feel any different,” she said cautiously after a few moments.

  I nodded, trying to push past my own discomfort. The pain I felt after that portal while unpleasant to say the least, did unlock something. From my limited understanding of this aether, it must have made accessing easier or more efficient somehow. I had a feeling this artifact was working in a similar matter if it had the same effect on me as the portal. ”Try something simple you couldn’t do before.”

  She hesitated, then wove her hands through the air. A broom appeared solid and tangible. With another flick of her fingers, it began sweeping the cave floor.

  “By the Oracle,” she breathed, her tone a mixture of disbelief and awe. “It’s actually sweeping.”

  I frowned. “Was it not supposed to?”

  “My illusions were never able to interact with the world,” she explained, her excitement growing. “I can make the cave wall feel real.”

  “That’s… surprisingly useful,” I admitted.

  All I could think was, thank the gods I wouldn’t have to fight the soldiers. I was completely drained, struggling just to push myself into a sitting position. Exhaustion weighed me down like lead, leaving me with no choice but to sit back and watch as Isla meticulously wove her magic at the cave entrance.

  For the first time since I’d known her, she was smiling. The glow in her eyes matched the bracelets as she turned back to her illusion, her hands moving with newfound precision and power. The jagged rocks and natural terrain she conjured didn’t just look real—they carried an almost imperceptible weight and texture.

  The soldiers were at the base of the ravine, their boots crunching on loose gravel.

  The only drawback of Isla making the illusion more tangible was that it completely blocked out light, leaving us in absolute darkness. Even Isla held perfectly still as we waited, straining to hear the soldiers’ movements nearby. They must have spotted something odd because they began striking the illusion—now solid rock—with their swords. Each blow sent vibrations through the cave, but luckily, the testing only lasted a few tense moments before the noise shifted. They moved to another section, testing again, and soon, the sounds of their investigation faded entirely.

  “I think we might be in the clear,” I whispered.

  “Incredible work, Isla,” Onas said, his voice low but full of genuine admiration.

  “These bracelets are unbelievable. I could never have dreamed of casting that kind of spell,” she replied, awe lingering in her tone.

  Since our enemies might have similar artifacts, I felt compelled to dig deeper. “Did you feel tired after the spell?” I asked.

  She hesitated, likely assessing her energy levels. “Now that the euphoria is wearing off, I do feel a bit drained,” she admitted.

  So, the bracelets were powerful, but they didn’t turn you into an unstoppable force. That was a small comfort. Even so, facing an enemy equipped with one would still be a formidable challenge. The only silver lining was their rarity. Sedeus couldn’t have too many of them—surely not in just half a year since the gods’ descent. At least, I hoped his kingdom-building efforts had kept him too preoccupied to collect more.

  I wanted nothing more than to collapse and recover for a day or two, but there was no luxury of time. I had a match tonight—a match I dreaded not just for the exertion but for the pain that awaited me with the inevitable portal travel. Exhaustion and agony loomed, but in the oppressive darkness, it was easy to lose track of time.

  “Anyone care to guess the time?” I asked.

  “The sun was setting when the convoy crossed the bridge,” Onas said thoughtfully. “I’d say it’s been an hour or so since then.”

  “You have somewhere to be?” Isla asked, her tone laced with curiosity.

  “I’ve got the quarterfinal match tonight, in about an hour, I think.”

  She snickered. “We’ve already got more than enough gold. I’d say you’ve done plenty for the resistance today.”

  I sighed heavily. “If only it were that simple,” I muttered, before launching into an explanation about the match-fixing deal and the spy master orchestrating it.

  Onas was the first to react. “That’s bad. If you don’t show up, they’ll come looking for you. You’re well-known enough that hiding out until we leave or make our move would be your only option.”

  “That’s not going to happen,” I murmured under my breath. Why couldn’t it have been tonight’s match I had to lose?

  The darkness was getting on my nerves. With no sounds nearby and nothing to see, I decided it was time for a little light. If Isla’s illusion could block light from entering, it should also prevent it from escaping. I conjured a small flame, its soft orange glow illuminating the cramped cave.

  The pile of gold caught my attention. It was larger than I had realized, probably because I’d been too focused on maintaining the portal earlier. There had to be thousands of gold coins in that heap—enough to make even a king jealous. But gold was just a bunch of shiny metal, and the novelty wore off quickly. The cave, small and unremarkable, offered no distractions.

  They might’ve been fine with sitting in silence, all serious and brooding, but I wasn’t. “So now that they’ve checked the ravine, how long are we staying here?” I asked.

  “Well,” Isla began, “they’ll need to run from the pursuers, wait for things to cool down, and then double-check that there are no scouts left behind. Two days, minimum.”

  Two days in near-total darkness, maintaining an illusion. Not exactly an enviable job. Sure, she probably wouldn’t need to keep it flawless after the first day, so we’d likely get some light by tomorrow. The bigger problem was that we, or should I say they, didn’t have enough provisions; the initial provisions didn’t account for the delays.

  “I imagine Isla has to stay here and keep up the illusion,” I said, glancing between them. “But, Onas, would you mind if I portal back to the city alone? I’ll need every ounce of energy I can muster for that match tonight.”

  “It’s no problem. I’ll keep her entertained,” Onas replied, his tone a little too casual.

  I grinned. “So that’s what you kids are calling it these days.”

  If it weren’t for the dim light, I could’ve sworn Onas blushed, and Isla actually stammered, struggling for a response.

  I smirked, deciding not to prolong their embarrassment. “Well, no point dragging this out. Time to face the music,” I said, steeling myself for the painful ordeal ahead.

  “See you in a few days,” I said with a casual wave as I turned to create the portal and leave.

  My muscles twitched uncontrollably, each second stretching the pain further through my body. At least no one was there to witness me curled into a fetal position, biting back a scream. It hurt worse than last time. Maybe the portal wasn’t as stable. The thought trailed off as another wave of agony hit, forcing me to focus entirely on my breathing just to stay conscious.

  I swore to myself again: no more portals unless it was life or death. If I’d known this was waiting for me on the other side, I’d have gladly stayed put and ignored all this arena nonsense.

  Ten minutes? Twenty? I had no idea how long it took, but eventually, I managed to pull myself upright and stumble downstairs. Outside the tavern, night had settled, and I could only hope I wasn’t late. Otherwise, all this torment would have been pointless.

  The alleyways leading to the stadium were mostly deserted—a bad sign. But as I got closer, the distant roar of the crowd reached my ears. They were reacting to a match still underway, which meant I wasn’t too late. Fortunately, I was recognizable enough now to skip any tedious verification. A few quick nods from the staff, and I was ushered into the staging room where a small crowd had gathered around a woman clad in black armor.

  “Where have you been? We had to push your fight to the last slot!” A harried man, likely one of the event organizers, practically pounced on me. His dramatic tone made it hard to take him seriously, but he was clearly stressed out. I almost felt bad for the guy.

  “Sorry, I overslept,” I mumbled.

  “Overslept?!” he exclaimed, as if I’d just insulted his ancestors. “Overslept, he says,” he lamented to no one in particular, throwing his hands in the air.

  I gestured toward the armored woman. “So, is she my opponent?”

  “Yes,” he said with a resigned sigh before grabbing my arm and practically dragging me to the gate, clearly determined to make sure I didn’t vanish again.

  She stood tall, her black plate armor gleaming under the flickering torchlight, polished to a mirror shine. She was pacing back and forth. I guess a little impatience was to be expected. Her eyes settled upon me as I got near and waved the throng of aides away.

  “You look awful,” the woman commented as I approached. “Didn’t you say you overslept?”

  Well, that was blunt. “You’d think that’d improve your odds. I wouldn’t complain if I were you.”

  She smirked. “You think I want to win because your fan girls drained every ounce of... energy from you?”

  That stopped me. I blinked, taking a second to process. “I have fan girls?”

  She rolled her eyes. “You’re the worst trash-talker I’ve ever met. But I’ve never fought a mage worth anything before, so here’s hoping you’ve got enough juice left to make this entertaining.”

  “Wait, does that make you a fan then?” I grinned. “Want the address to my inn? Entertainment’s guaranteed.”

  Her grin twisted into a scowl. “Oh, don’t worry—neither part of you will be getting up once I’m done with you.”

  “Is that a promise?” I replied.

  The gates screeched open, their grinding noise swallowing whatever comeback she might have been ready to hurl. Instead of anger, a faint smile flickered across her face, quickly hardening into a look of fierce determination as we stepped forward.