Iris the archmage planted the butt of her staff firmly between her feet, wedging it between two of the stone bricks that made up the walkway, and braced herself. This was going to hurt, and she knew it; but she also knew that no one else would be able to get the job done.
The approaching army normally wouldn’t have been a problem for the lesser mages to handle from a distance. But from the look of it they’d brought along a barrier mage, or some other way to shield their formation, and even the traditional lance-type spells were having trouble breaking through. By the time Iris had made it to the upper floor to get a proper look for herself, the troops had advanced close enough for their own magical arrows to be a problem – at least from the long-range specialists, which thankfully numbered only three from what she could tell. But that meant the bulk of their forces would operate at close range; she had to do something, and fast.
And like many other things, a spell could be fast, or efficient, or effective, but it could never be more than two of those. She had to break that barrier at any cost, or the very kingdom would fall to these arrogant invaders. And Iris cared far too much about the kingdom to let it go so easily.
Well – she cared for one person, very specifically. But that wasn’t important right now, only the task at hand.
What Iris was about to do was extremely reckless, and even if she did it properly, it would still have consequences. Tapping into the castle’s main batteries wasn’t a technique anyone but an archmage learned, and for damn good reason. But she needed the power for this. She had to be sure.
And, Iris thought, gripping her staff so tight it almost hurt, she had to teach them fear.
With a single thought, the searing blue lines of the artillery spell began tearing into the stone around her feet, crafting the circle, the square inside it, the second square contra-rotating atop it. She could feel the castle under her, waiting for that connection to be made, humming nice and low, almost growling…
She sensed the enemy’s attention as it turned to her. Good. Look this way. It’ll be the last thing you see…
Before the first spell was allowed to finish, she cast the second, tearing open a Gate inches in front of her. It was a rough and unrefined thing, the predictable result of dualcasting this hastily, but it gave her what she needed: a bird’s eye view of the invaders, from hundreds of feet in the air.
“Got you,” she snarled. “Hammer’s Fall.“
The castle clicked into place – slammed into place – at the other end of her spellcraft, and Iris gritted her teeth as a torrent of blue-white energy lanced out of her staff and through the Gate, and with gravity’s full force, hammered the enemy formation with a thunderous BANG that echoed across the battlefield. Panting quietly, feeling her fingers tingling a little, she let her eyes refocus and-
No way. The barrier mage was still alive?! True, the shield was flickering and bits of it were missing, but – argh! She bit her lip and gripped the staff again. It didn’t matter. It didn’t matter. She was an archmage, damn it all. What did she work so hard to earn the title for, if not for this, this very moment?
The circle etched itself again, the squares as well. She felt her black hair start to float. Oh, that was almost certainly a bad sign, that the instability was starting to affect her own body… but she couldn’t just let it go!
“Hammer’s Fall!“
Again the castle’s batteries fed her their energies; again it coursed through her body like a lightning spell gone awry, and this time she almost dropped to her knees as the spell fired from the tip of her staff, legs shaking as she clung to the ancient polished wood. A good thing she’d fixed it so firmly, or she would have fallen for sure.
There was no bang this time, the sound more akin to glass or pottery shattering, followed by a sickeningly heavy thump. Her vision refused to fully focus this time, but even so, she peered through the Gate and saw a massive crater where the troops had been. Even if some of them managed to avoid the full impact, they wouldn’t be able to match the rest of the kingdom’s defenses.
Iris smiled, weakly, as the Gate shredded itself to nothingness. She had done well. Hadn’t she? Even if she couldn’t feel her hands any more. Or her feet, come to think of it. Or…
She didn’t even feel herself hitting the stone bricks as the staff, no longer held, slowly tipped over and clattered to a rest in front of her. She couldn’t even see it. She couldn’t…
Maybe she’d overdone it this time, a final thought sparked, before complete oblivion swept over her.
“-for at least a month.”
She was surprised to hear anything at all, after what she’d done. But the words were there, even if they sounded like they came from the bottom of a well, echoing from a long distance off.
“-can’t do anything about-“
She tried to move, but she still couldn’t feel anything. She couldn’t even tell if she was breathing. She had to be, though, right? Unless this was some sort of weird afterlife – but that didn’t make sense, there were no gods, no scales, no labyrinth, not even any masks to wear-
“-a second, maybe she needs-“
Finally she felt something. A strange tingling sensation… in her… chest? Yeah, that was definitely her chest. She could feel it now! Now all she needed to do was-
gasp
Iris’s eyes opened wide – and then squeezed back shut with a whine of protest. So bright! Too bright!
“Oh! Oh my goodness, she’s back with us! Er, I think, anyway. Here, let’s get some water, you must be absolutely parched by now.”
She felt a glass pressed to her lips, and she drank a sip – by the gods, it was the sweetest thing imaginable. She hadn’t realized how desperately she needed it.
“Not so fast, dear,” came the… nurse’s? attendant’s? voice, with a little sigh of relief as the glass pulled back. “Let me get the curtains for you, then you can open your eyes a little easier.” She heard the woman stand up, then walk a few steps – then with a quiet shf, the light burning against her eyelids finally dimmed. “There now, see if that suits you a little better.”
Iris opened one eye just the narrowest little crack; and when the light didn’t pierce into her skull painfully this time, she opened it wider, and wider, and the other one too.
She was, it appeared, in the royal hospital – judging by all the medical equipment as well as the heraldry on the walls and the fine curtains and the nurse’s custom-tailored outfit. Well, that was perhaps the best place she could have ended up; but she didn’t expect quite this level of treatment. “How-” she began, in a croak, and fell into a coughing fit, her voice raw.
The nurse helped her sit up a little, tilting the head of the bed to support her, and she finally took a few more deep breaths, steadying herself. “How did the… battle go?”
A warm smile. “My goodness, ever the dutiful one, aren’t you? No wonder Her Highness wanted to speak with you as soon as you awoke.” The nurse looked into her eyes. “You’re not going to slip back into the darkness before she gets here, are you?”
Her Highness? The Princess wants to… Iris shook her head, or started to, then immediately regretted it as a sharp spike of pain drove through her temple. “Agh! N-no, I…” She took another breath. “I- I think… I hope I can manage that much, at least. She is the Princess, after all, I owe her that and so much more.”
“I see. Well, she should be here soon enough, so do try to hold on.”
The archmage avoided the nod that almost came by reflex, simply offering a quiet ‘mm’ and relaxing back into the support of the hospital bed. Breathe, in, hold, out. Just relax. All the feeling she was currently lacking in her limbs would surely come back before long. She’d just awoken, after all; hastily jumping to conclusions would only do her a disservice.
She wasn’t entirely sure how much time passed before two sets of boots sounded outside the room – one unremarkable, one clipped and sharp. The door opened, and in walked – or stalked – the Princess, an uncommon fire in her eyes and a slight set of her jaw. She still wore her battle-dress, a more form-fitting and less ornate ensemble than usual, this one with more obvious magical defenses still gleaming brightly upon its little metal plates. As nervous as Iris was at the sight, she couldn’t help but adore Her Highness’s incomparable regal grace; even in the midst of her obvious turmoil, she never lost her poise or bearing for an instant.
The doctor, a greying and predictably humorless woman (or so it always seemed), came into the room as well, shutting the door quietly behind her. “She is the one you wanted to see, yes? Miss… Iris, Your Highness?”
“Indeed We did.” The Princess stared down at her, and she looked back with a mixture of fear and resignation and no small amount of adoration. Eventually, those royal lips parted again in a quiet sigh. She sounded… disappointed. “If you would, good doctor; your prognosis.”
Have I done something wrong? Iris wondered, a twisting sensation in the part of her stomach that she could feel. Were my efforts somehow inadequate?
“Archmage Iris.” The doctor looked down at her clipboard. “During your defense of the castle, due to your… aggressive spellcasting techniques, I suppose we could call it that-” She paused for a moment, and looked up. “Never thought I’d say this to an archmage of all people, but you actually managed to put yourself into burnout. Probably the most severe case of it I’ve seen, from the look of you.”
Iris’s eyes went wide at the news. The Princess’s eyes, on the other hand, could have burned a hole through her; and she wilted, as much as it was possible to do while already on a hospital bed.
“Tell Us, Archmage,” she began, with a tone so frosty it could have iced over the remaining water in the glass, “what precisely was it that possessed you to extend yourself so far in this… single-minded pursuit of your duties, that you would render yourself utterly useless to Us, and even risk your very life? For rest assured, without the proper treatment, you would not have survived the day.”
She tried to find the words to respond to Her Highness’s clear frustration with her actions. But what could she say? It was her responsibility to protect the kingdom, after all; what else should she have done? “I acted as I thought best, Your Highness,” Iris began, hesitantly, her voice coming out softer and weaker than she would have liked, “but I was unable to see the battle to its conclusion – did we not prevail, in the end?”
“You-!” The Princess’s expression clouded, as if a mighty storm was rising from her very brow. “You give Us that as your answer? Can you not even-” She stopped whatever words had been on her tongue, and resettled herself with her customary grace. “We are gravely disappointed in you, Archmage. In your actions and your words. And there is no guarantee that recovery – if you even achieve it! – will teach you those lessons We now see you require.”
The weight of the Princess’s words settled on Iris like the entire castle’s masonry. The prognosis barely registered at this point; such deep royal disappointment outweighed any other fate that could have befallen her. She did not want to cry in front of Her Highness. She would not. And yet, the weight felt like it would crush her – what feeling there presently was in her body.
“However,” she continued after a moment, that frosty chill thawing ever so slightly, “We would be remiss in Our own duties, were We to simply dismiss you as irredeemable.”
A spark of hope kindled in Iris’s emotionally flattened heart.
“Hear now Our royal command, Archmage.” The Princess stared down at her. “You will rest and recover yourself. You will not even attempt to cast spells or otherwise manipulate the aether in even the most minute of ways. You will heed the direction of every doctor and every nurse, without complaint. This is Our will and it will be enforced, no matter how inconvenient it may become for you.” Her eyes gleamed suddenly. “Violations of this command are punishable – by Us. Is that clear, Archmage?”
She had never seen that expression before – and she couldn’t fathom the meaning behind it, nor why it chilled her in such a curious way. Nor, for that matter, why the Princess would take such a personal interest in her recuperation. But what else could she say? “Yes, Your Highness.”
“Good.” She turned on her heel and stalked back out of the room, the door closing again behind her.
Iris laid there upon the hospital bed, completely stunned for a moment. She looked over at the doctor, unable to stop the question. “But – we won, did we not? The battle?”
“Rest, archmage,” the doctor half-sighed. “No more questions, unless you intend to incur Her Highness’s ire already.”
That certainly wouldn’t do. She shut her mouth and closed her eyes without any further prompting.
“Much better.”
diamonds from ash 
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