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The pain. The ripping sensation. The nausea.

Her hand dropped.

The dakya was still, listening, but it hadn’t turned toward them. They were moments away from it turning, snarling with that pitch black maw and bounding toward them, tall as a horse and thick with muscle. No matter how many of the beasts she killed, the sight of them racing toward her still made her heart pound.

Peering around a tree, Iryana could just make out another one much farther away.

There was a chance they wouldn’t attack—the dakii had been strange lately—but nothing good would come from letting them remain in the valley. Even if they didn’t become a threat today, they would eventually.

“There’s only two of them,” her uncle said, voice low. He reached out, magic forming a muted lavender longsword in his hands.

Iryana panicked at the sight. She didn’t even reach for her magic, but still it felt like the metal-forging tattoos burned along her back.

“I’ll take them without my forgings,” she rushed. “Make it a bit more of a challenge.”

A guardian trained with more than just the forged weapons they could summon, needing to be prepared for times they couldn’t maintain the magic or when their forgings weren’t the right tool for the job. Their unforged weapons were far less effective against the dakii, but it was still possible to kill them. Iryana had done it plenty of times before she was forged. It was just riskier.

“Sounds like fun!” Kladara reached for the falchion at her side. It was shining curved steel, the only magic in it imbued from the forged tools used to make it.

“We could always use the training.” The magic of Uncle Dinhal’s longsword dissipated as he grabbed for the axe on his belt.

Iryana breathed a sigh of relief. The valley had been clear of the dakii for the last few days, and she had hoped today would be the same. She hadn’t prepared herself to use her forgings.

“I bet my falchion will draw more blood than your axe.” Kladara stepped forward to bump her shoulder against their uncle’s.

Not wasting any time, Iryana pulled her wooden bow from her shoulder, nocked an arrow, and sent it flying toward the closest dakya.

The iron arrowhead barely pierced the dakya’s fur before it turned sharply with a growl and barreled toward them. One of her arrow forgings would have sunk much deeper, but at least the iron was imbued with metal magic.

She fired arrow after arrow as her clan members charged the monster, colliding with the four-horned creature between the trees. The second beast was darting between the trunks, but they had a few moments before it reached them.

Dinhal moved with lethal efficiency, keeping the dakya from closing in and waiting for the perfect moment to strike. When he did lunge, his axe dug in behind its front leg and sprayed black blood when he twisted and ripped it out.

“Nice,” Kladara shouted as she dodged a swipe of the dakya’s claws.

Kladara was usually a ranged fighter, using her forged bow and javelin to fight from farther out, but close combat suited her well. She was energetic and constantly moving with sharp bursts of motion. There was no patience in the way she attacked, only unrelenting rage.

“Bide your time,” Dinhal reminded his niece, always thinking about training even when they fought for their lives.

Three arrows stuck out from the closest dakya’s head, blood pouring from its side and the many cuts Kladara had made. Yet it still stood, still tried to charge at Dinhal and Kladara as they dodged between the trees.

Iryana frowned. They were getting better at fighting in the open, but she thought the dakya would have fallen by now. It was stronger than she’d expected. She didn’t have time to contemplate that, though. The second beast, sporting only a single set of horns, had made its way around the melee and headed for Iryana.

Facing the charging mass of snarling teeth, sharp horns, and floating mane, Iryana was forced to take her focus off the other fight.

For a moment, Iryana wondered if she would regret fighting the dakii without their forgings. She had hoped they’d take one down before the second was upon them; that way they didn’t have to divide their focus.

There was nothing to be done now but adapt, trusting that Kladara and Dinhal would know when to call their forgings and abandon the challenge.

Iryana threw her bow over her shoulder, pulling out her steel falchion as the dakya neared.

Despite all the struggles she’d had since her second forging, the combination of water and metal magic did interesting things. Not only was her pain tolerance higher than usual, but her healing was faster. Her reflexes were quicker, more intuitive. And her muscles felt stronger.

Too bad the magic churned inside her like a sickness. Given that the second forging should have killed her, it wasn’t too bad.

Iryana waited until the last moment and dove to the side, dragging the sharp edge of her falchion across the dakya’s flank. The beast pivoted faster than she expected, head curled down to impale her with its horns.

Grunting, Iryana spun as she grabbed the base of one of those horns, letting it whip her around the creature’s side again. Another cut, another spray of blood, and yet the dakya kept fighting.