The Battle

Rebuilding

Disclaimer: This is a commission for c1lop, who owns the character of Dion. The character of Melthurian, as well as the setting of Briarwood and all associated names and concepts, are owned by King Mel; the character of Fritz by Frogonthefritz; the characters of Kyurian and Gheras by SpectralKyurem; the character of Ars by Ars Machina; and the character of Law by Lawaow. Please check out the works and socials of all these people!

This is a direct sequel to "The Duel." While not strictly necessary to follow the plot, it is recommended to read that first for full context.

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The Ruby Fortress was an imposing structure- a massive construct of shiny black marble, fitted with glass windows stained a deep red from which the place drew its name. As sunlight passed through these windows, it would produce a crimson shimmer that would dance across the marble. Some found beauty in these patterns; others likened the sight to splashes of blood. Either way, it would awe the spectators who gazed on it, and serve as a reminder of the reverence both it and its inhabitants were due.

Said inhabitants included assorted nobility and those of high rank, though of those, the magicians were paramount. They flocked to this Fortress to study their arts amongst their peers, and to lend their services to the king; and as such, they lived a lavish existence, answering only to the monarch.

But, of course, gathering together so many magicians could have unwanted consequences, and result in all kinds of collateral damage.

"GET BACK!" a cloaked serpent screamed, lashing out with his tail to grab and yank away a nearby raccoon, moments before he was incinerated by an encroaching wall of golden fire.

An elk with braided hair and beard snuffed, raising a hand and muttering a fire-repelling charm. The golden flames stopped as if held back by a pane of glass- but immediately, the sorcerer started sweating, his limbs trembling and threatening to buckle. "I... can't... hold it..." he grunted through clenched teeth-

-only for the golden flames to freeze in place. They lingered briefly, as if solidified into crystal- then swiveled, swirled, shrank inward, coalescing into an incandescent orb like a small sun.

"Uh, mind taking that barrier down?" a new voice hollered. "I could probably break it, but I wanna make sure none of the fire leaks out."

The assembled magicians whirled to face the speaker- a dragonborn with teal-green skin and darker such-colored hair resembling quills, a reptilian snout, and a pair of yellow eyes. He was roughly five and a half feet tall, and his three-toed, clawed feet were bare, while above them he wore a featureless black one-piece suit reminiscent of fencing gear.

Behind him was a goat with flowing brown hair, wearing a similar black suit. He was considerably taller, around seven feet, and his expression was deeply annoyed. "You've done well enough thus far, my magicians," their king called out. "But my dear friend has offered to finish the repairs. Stand by in case he requires help- otherwise, stay out of his way."

Most of the assembled casters were completely taken aback by this. They looked to the dragonborn with confusion. Some slowly gained looks of recognition, their bafflement giving rise to shock and reverence; others scowled more deeply, unsure who this was or what about him warranted such status. Still others were simply utterly baffled. But a quick glare and a growl from their king rapidly silenced any protests.

The dragonborn looked over his shoulder, amused. "You have a whole staff of these guys on-site, and you're making me do all the work? Tsk tsk, Mel."

King Melthurian's glare turned to his friend, though it softened into a more lighthearted look. "Well, Dion, you did just make a whole song and dance about how I need to respect you more, and putting a line of vassals underfoot would just be insulting, no?"

"Well, when you put it that way." Dion started walking over to the glowing sun-like orb he'd created, gesturing as he did.

Fairly quickly, the sun turned dark, almost like a tiny eclipse, then turned into a shimmering silvery ball, which shot over to and melted into Dion's hand, drawing the gasps of many. "Okay, that takes care of the fire- I guess now we need to patch the stonework."

"Please do," Mel sighed. "I need this place intact, or else the floor above might collapse. And besides, I'd like to get a replacement potion batch brewing."

"Then I guess we'd better be quick." He cracked his knuckles.

They certainly made for an odd sight, the goat king of Briarwood and a diminutive dragonborn (or so many of the gathered magicians saw him, at least), working together to repair the lab. It was only fitting, though- technically, the two of them were why the lab was in its current state. Dion had challenged Mel to a friendly magical duel, which itself had wrecked the courtyard- but with the king thus distracted, the potions he'd been brewing had been left unattended and simmering too long, and one of the cauldrons had burst into golden fire. This had triggered a chain reaction, and the various other potions started to go off as well, unleashing all manner of odd side effects, culminating in an explosion that had utterly wrecked the lab and buried it in rubble, tearing down a not-insignificant chunk of the Fortress into the bargain. The casualties were, thankfully, relatively light- only a few guards and magical apprentices- but the cleanup had been intensive.

Now, though, they had a decent handle on things, and with the fire itself subdued, all that remained was rebuilding.

Dion flexed his fingers, and all of the stone in the area rippled like water, before starting to move and shift around. Broken pieces of stone began to fit together like enormous puzzle pieces, the cracks between them filling with dust, which quickly congealed into sculpted rock. Within only a couple minutes, the debris had been thoroughly cleared away, and the room appeared whole. The assembled magicians looked around with varying degrees of awe.

Dion dusted off his hands, smirking. "That oughta do it!"

Mel, however, was examining the stonework critically, and looked less than convinced. "You're... certain everything is in place?"

Dion turned to him and raised an eyebrow. "Mel, we just had an extensive discussion about this- don't you trust me?" he teased.

"I-!" Mel started, sputtering, before sighing heavily. "...Yes, Dion, I do. I just worry for the integrity of my Fortress- even if there are no worries to be had, I suppose."

Dion nodded sagely. "I mean, yeah, I get it. A bit of caution is expected." He fondly patted a newly-refurbished pillar. "But I think I did a pretty good job, this chamber should hold up even if another-"

He was abruptly cut off as a chunk of stone in the ceiling slid loose, ferried by gravity directly to the crown of his head.

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