[participant in the Royal Road Writathon challenge]
I hold my hand steady in the glass-making crucible, igniting [Greater Heat Manipulation] to ward off the skin-melting blaze. Orange-white flames flicker around my fingers—the ravenous tongues of a nightmare beast—but I resist the urge to snatch back my hand. Time for me to deepen my understanding of fire.
Sinking inward, I survey the dazzling array of complex runes that make up my first Skill. Eyes closed, internal sight focused on the rune for fire, I thread mana into the Skill in a slow, steady trickle, mentally rotating the complex rune as it flares to life. I’ve used fire and heat independently from the Skill itself for a long time, even before I knew what I was doing, but it’s never been clear to me exactly how it works. My view of the rune is tenuous at best. I know there's more to it than what I can see so far.
My fascination is more than academic. I need to understand what I'm doing better. If I’m going to meld my next creation with a beast core that also resonates with fire, then I want to avoid burning down the studio. Perhaps my current understanding of fire is sufficient for a decent weapon if I play it safe, but I didn’t risk death and dismemberment in the Rift so I can settle for mediocrity. Avelina needs a way to fight from range. Without this wand, she has to get close, which puts her in too much danger.
I won’t get my friends killed.
Resolved, I roll my shoulders, stretch my neck, and shake out my fingers. The weight of the world is pressing down on me, but right now I need to just put that aside and focus. There's plenty of time for reflection and self-recrimination later. That thought brings a wry half-smile to my face.
On a whim, I try to apply the technique that the [Inquisitors] mentioned to me in the Rift. Look beyond. While I still don't fully understand Casella's instructions, I get the gist of what he's trying to convey. Simple runes are easy to draw on paper, but complex runes are multivariate. There's an element that I’ve overlooked.
I snap my fingers. “That's it! That's why they wanted to draw a cube instead of a square; there’s a dimensional aspect that I'm missing.” Taking a deep breath, I calm my racing mind and try again, relying on sheer willpower to expand my view.
And this time, my perspective . . . shifts.
Unlike my previous view of the rune, the new perspective spins out in all directions, and I gasp in sudden shock. Pain needles at the edges of my mind, biting and snapping like a thousand tiny gnats. The dizzying array of shapes is no longer limited to what my eyes can see; I'm processing the reality of the runes with my inner sight, which isn't bound by the same laws of optics.
The patterns remind me of the strange, unsettling shapes I saw in the lesser Rift when I channeled the raw power of the core and turned it against itself. Back then, I couldn't handle the strain, so I looked away, but curiosity has always stuck with me. What secrets of the universe had I peered into? A note of pride trills through me. My soul is stronger now, and I am able to wrestle the discomfort under control and gaze at the mystery.
My mind still stutters and skips as I try to make sense of what I'm perceiving. The impossible geometries don't match anything I could draw on a flat page, but slowly an analogous image starts to emerge. The strange, stacked shapes remind me of children playing with wooden blocks, balancing them one on top of another to create castles and towers and anything else they can conceive of.
“Three dimensional, stacked runes,” I mutter to myself. “The runes use multiple fractals, stacked on top of each other—overlapping the same space but maybe on different planes? But why? Ah! For an increase in efficiency. I see. Mana doesn't have to travel as far to suffuse the entire rune. That gives it more power output for the energy input.”
Excitement mounting, I push the crucible even hotter, willing the fire to bend to my command. I wish I still had [Architect of Unseen Worlds] so that I could get a closer look at what's happening. Guess I'll have to make do the old fashioned way.
I move my soul sight closer, straining to see what’s really going on. The rune segments are all connected by glowing filaments. They appear to be pure energy, stitching the incomprehensible shapes together like thread through fabric. The miniscule holes in the rune allow for the passage of mana.
“Huh. Maybe it speeds up the magical signal if it doesn’t have to travel as far. Is that why using a Skill usually results in a significant increase in power versus trying to wield freeform spells?”
“You talking to yourself, Nuri?”
I drop out of my soul space and spin around, nearly knocking over a row of punties as I struggle to stay upright. My head is simultaneously too light and too heavy. I blink, leaning against the wall for extra stability. “Lio! Don’t sneak up on me like that.”
“Whatcha doing?”
“Just working through some new ideas.”
“Sounds profitable,” Lionel says, grinning at me. “Make sure you cut me in if you come across any more lucrative breakthroughs. Would be nice to have some pocket change for once.”
“Uh. Sure. Hey, you seen Ava around?”
“Too embarrassed to work with a genius like me again, huh? Sorry I outshone you so much that you have to hide in embarrassment.”
I glance at the slender glass sword strapped to Lionel’s side. “Not too late for me to take that back and use it for myself.”
Amusement sparks in his eyes. “Someone missed breakfast, huh? She’s at her usual workbench with her twin, Sir Grumpypants.”
“She wasn’t earlier,” I say, turning to check that Lionel isn’t teasing me. He’s definitely not above a bit of misleading information for fun.
“They were in the back room gathering materials for a project. Heard they scored a big commission with your old friend, Lord Garman.”
“He still has room for display pieces?” I ask, incredulous that the old aristocrat hasn’t run out of space—or money—by now. He must be a bigger art enthusiast than I remembered.
Lionel lifts his eyebrows and shrugs. “No idea. But that’s his problem. I’ll take as much gold as he’s willing to hand out. Maybe we can do a team piece for him next.”
“I’ll keep it in mind.” I bid goodbye to Lionel, still trying to recover my balance and get my bearings after the mind-melting encounter with the complexity of three-dimensional runes. I thought I was becoming an expert in the magical language of reality, but now I feel like I’ve gone back to the beginning. Far from becoming a runic scholar, I’m crawling on the floor and sticking spoons in my mouth like a baby—metaphorically speaking, of course.
“Morning, Linas. Got a moment?”
“Depends,” Melina says, a hint of wariness in her tone. “You actually have a question, or are you about to disrupt our plans?”
I shake my head. “I’m as transparent as glass to you, huh? Surely you can lend me your assistant for a few hours. Lord Garman can wait.”
Melina’s eyes crinkle as she laughs. “Some of us still have to work for a living, Nuri. You can only have her if you help us finish up later. Work for work.”
“Hey! Stop bartering for my time,” Avelina interjects, elbowing her sister in the ribs. “I’m right here, you know.”
“Shush, sis. Nuri and I are plotting.”
Avelina props her elbows up on the marver. She rests her chin on her palms. “Yeah, yeah. I’m used to your scheming. The real question is what do I get out of it?”
“Hotter fire. Bigger fire. More fire.”
“Sold! Let’s go, Nuri,” Avelina squeals, grabbing me by the wrist and dragging me away. “Time to burn stuff!”
She makes it two steps before I plant my feet and pull back the other way. “I’m not done with Mel. I still have questions before we get to work.”
Avelina rolls her eyes. “Sure, sure, talk with the smart one. I get it. I’m just here to make things go up in flames.” She grins, her eyes wide and maniacal. “Don’t worry, I know my place. Have I mentioned that I love fire?”
I ignore Avelina, shifting my attention back to her calculating twin. “I’ve been looking into runic arrays lately, but I’m a little bit stuck. I’m hoping that you can point me in the right direction if I explain what’s going on.”
“I’m not an expert. Ezio might be a better bet,” Melina responds slowly. She bites the edge of her lower lip, mulling it over. “I guess I could listen, though. Maybe if you describe the problem, I can help you sort it out.”
“Perfect. You know how simple runes can be depicted on a page, or are visible within your soul space as part of your Skill structures? Well, I think that we’re not seeing the real rune when we examine our Skills, because we’re used to parsing information visually, and our eyes are limited to only three dimensions. Er, well, at least our minds are used to interpreting what we sense internally as some sort of sight, so we expect it to be two- or three-dimensional since it’s what we’re accustomed to seeing normally.”
“Aaand, I’m out,” Avelina says, snapping her fingers and summoning blue fire. “I’m gonna go do some flamework. You weirdos have fun with your big ideas.”
Melina waves absently at her twin as Avelina trots off, but she seems distracted by my admittedly-inadequate description. I recognize the glint in Melina’s eyes, because it’s the same obsession I feel when I’m wrestling with a new idea and feel like I’m on the verge of unlocking its secrets.
“All right, Nuri, let me see if I get it. You’re suggesting that we’re conditioned to perceive our inner worlds visually, but their true nature is somehow more esoteric and encompassing?”
I nod vigorously. “Exactly! We have to look beyond.”
“How does that apply to runes?” Melina asks, wrinkling up her nose in thought. She puts down the blowpipe that she’s been holding, and taps her fingers on the workbench. Now I know that she’s as intrigued as I am by this concept.
“Well, in the same way that we reinterpret the reality of magic into something lesser and more manageable, runes are infinitely more complex than simple diagrams. They’re stacked in three dimensions—four or five, probably—which makes them more efficient than the traditional depiction of runes. I think that they occupy other planes of existence, spilling into many spaces all at once! That gives them more room to gather power, but they’re also able to fit within our soul spaces because they’re in a smaller, folded space. The complex, overlapping fractals pack in more magical potential than a hand-drawn rune.”
Melina frowns abruptly. “Let’s say you’re right. What can you realistically do with the new information, Nuri? Can you manipulate the runes that belong in adjacent planes? Are you able to better imbue concepts?”
I take a breath to respond, then pause and blow out the air. “I have no idea. But it feels important. Maybe this is a path toward imbuing more efficiently, or with greater purity of concept. I can’t help but feel like I’m on the path to merging enchanting and imbuing.”
“All of this is well and good, but how is it going to help you make a better wand for Ava? You know she’s dying to see what you’re going to give her. Making her wait until everyone else has something is just plain mean.”
“How did you know I was making a wand? Have you been peeking at my notes?” I ask, sticking out my tongue at Melina. “Because if you have, then you ought to know that I went through a lot of trouble to get a beast core from that new, fire-aspected Rift just for her.“
“I heard that [Spear Commander] did all the work,” Melina says, sticking out her tongue in reply. There’s something about talking with each other that brings out the inner child in us, but it’s nice to have friends, so I don’t mind.
“Pfft! I had to pull ole Nic’s butt out of the fire. His brain would have been turned to mush by those fire sprites if I didn’t intervene.”
Melina snickers at me. “Oh, on first name terms now, huh? You might even say that you, ahem, gave him a ‘Nic’ name.”
“Did you. . . .” I blink in surprise, then let out an astonished, delighted chortle. “Wow, Mel. Did you just make a bad pun? I’m so proud of you!”
=+=
Instead of tackling the wand right away, I shift tactics and tell Avelina that we’ll try after she’s done with the commission for my old friend, Lord Garman. I put in a few hours of assistant work to help the sisters finish up more quickly. They don’t need my help, but it’s always nice to have extra people to speed up the process, and since I’m doing the grunt work, my mind can wander as I think over the questions Melina raised.
The next day, I leave them to put the finishing touches on the piece and head over to talk with my favorite genius, the [Nonpareil Scholar] himself, Ezio. I mull over Melina’s questions on the way, trying to put my thoughts into a more concise form. Ezio won’t mind if I ramble, but he’ll likely return the favor. And, as much as I enjoy my time with Ezio, I’m not in the mood to listen to two or three hours of lectures on prevailing magical theory.
Before I know, I’m back in a familiar position: sitting across from Ezio in his office while I tell him about my troubles. I tap my fingers on the desk, fumbling for the right way to explain my dilemma. Finally, he takes pity on me and tells me to just spit it out, even if it’s incomprehensible and confusing.
I nod and take a deep breath. “Runes are the building blocks of Skills, or at least that’s the common idea. They’re responsible for organizing and shaping information so that we can use mana to affect the world around us. The more dense the layers of runes, the stronger and more efficient the Skill can be, usually.”
“Right, that’s the generally-accepted view,” Ezio says, his brow furrowed. “But something tells me that you’re about to turn it all on its ear. Why don’t you get to the point?”
“What if they’re more than that? What if runes are conduits that borrow concepts from a higher realm? What if we only see a tiny fraction of their true form? I’ve heard that some animals can hear sounds we can’t—either too low, or too high. I think that we’re only aware of a narrow band of existence.”
“Ah! Some [Zoologists] have noted that certain species are able to see in the dark, or are sensitive to colors that humans can’t see. You think there’s some sort of correlation in the realm of magic,“ Ezio chimes in, his voice rising half an octave in his sudden excitement.
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
I nod. “Here, give me that notepad. I think I can sketch out what I mean more clearly. It’s something that our [Inquisitor] friends hinted at during our time together in the Rift. They couldn’t give me exact information, but it’s starting to come together for me.”
Ezio obliges, leaning forward in interest as I begin to draw points, lines, and cubes. I’m leaning heavily on the metaphor that Casella and Mbukhe used to tell me how to look beyond, and I don’t think that’s by mistake. The details suddenly click into place, and I leap up to my feet with a shout, startling my scholarly friend.
Mind racing, I try to put my new theory into practice. The [Inquisitors] can pierce the veil around people and see into core spaces because they’re tapping into a different plane. They’re able to interface not just with this world, but with the Concepts from which we derive the power to use Skills and spells. If I open myself up to the true concepts swirling around a person, then perhaps they can show me the runes we associate with Skills.
Acting on impulse, I draw on my glass pseudo cores and weave my version of the [Manasight] spellform, squinting at Ezio and letting my soul sight guide me. If that’s a thing; I’m just making up terms now, I think, giggling at my propensity to label things that probably have real names already.
With a gut-wrenching twist, my sight expands beyond the physical world, latching on to realities more potent than our own. All at once, I can make out the high-order concepts that are Ezio’s core being, his inner self. I’m not sure how to parse it, not yet, but I’m acutely aware of his standing—on the precipice of the Second Threshold, so close that he could teeter over at any second. His Skills glitter like cut and polished diamonds, and as I brush my senses across them, like a lutist plucking at strings, I intuitively sense how his Skills give him immense ability to think in parallel, process vast amounts of information without getting details mixed up, and verify the authenticity and validity of research data instantly.
I slump over, catching myself on the back of the chair before I fall over, and fight to stay upright on my wobbling legs. “I, uh, I think I got my answer.”
“Quick, write it down,” Ezio hisses. He taps on the privacy wards on his desk, glancing around as his eyes glow with mana. “No one watching that I can tell, but if you just did what I think you did, then the [Inquisitors] will be irritated to have competition.”
“It’s all related,” I slur, trying to scrawl legible notes before I forget the exact sensation of what I just did. It’s already slipping away, too complicated for my puny mind to hold firmly in my memory forever. I grind my teeth in anger at not earning a new Skill, certain that I was as close as humanly possible to unlocking it before I lost control. I touched on secrets of the universe, but didn’t gain the ability. I’ll get it someday. Soon, I hope.
“Runes and Viewing? You’re probably right,” Ezio says, muttering to himself and writing down his own notes on one of the ever-present pads of paper he keeps lying around his desk. “Thanks to you, we might make a major breakthrough in our understanding of imbuing, not to mention enchantments!”
“Aren’t they different?” I ask, pausing from my notes to ponder this new, shiny thought. It dances in my mind, and I race after it. I can almost see my mental activity diverging as more and more thoughts intrude. I’m like a dog chasing after—
“Focus, Nuri,” Ezio whispers, patting my damp, feverish brow. He lifts up a cup of tea to my lips, and I sip the hot brew greedily, gulping it down and instantly feeling more cogent.
“Thanks,” I say, my teeth chattering. My head lolls to the side, and I get a close up look at the piling of the carpet. I’m no longer in my seat, but lying on the floor, stretched out with a blanket over me. When did I get down here?
“You’re dealing with things beyond you,” Ezio says sternly, but not unkindly. “Take care, my young friend. Best to fortify yourself before you draw too deeply.”
I nod and shiver despite the blanket, thinking of the Lesser Rift. I’ve been down that path before, and I have no interest in reliving that mistake again. Slow, cautious steps; no more trying wild theories with no plan or supervision. “I promise,” I manage to croak out, tucking the blanket up under my chin. “But I still want to pick your brain about this.”
He shakes his head, chuckling softly. “ As long as you promise to only talk. No more wild experimenting with magic beyond your ability.”
“Promise,” I mumble.
“Very well. Do you know the difference between regular enchantments and what you’re doing with imbuing?”
“Hm. Not really, not anymore,” I say, speaking slowly. The medicinal tea that Ezio gave me is taking effect, and I’m starting to feel more normal, but my head is still pounding. “I used to think it was simple runes versus complex runes, but even the so-called ‘simple’ runes occupy multiple dimensions. Enchantments and imbuing are both forms of magic, but why are they so different in application?”
“I believe your experiences align nicely with some of the research you smuggled in from that frightful woman.” He pauses, eyeing me as though expecting a reaction when he mentions Scalpel. At my calm nod, he continues, relaxing his shoulders as though setting aside a weight. His worry for me is heart-warming.
“Imbuing essentially takes a created item and fuses it with mana that’s been altered from its raw, latent state to closely align with a specific concept or axiom. This fundamentally changes the very nature of the finished product. An enchantment is more like a condensed spellform, or perhaps shorthand, that's overlaid on a pre-existing item. It doesn’t require the creation process, for reasons I don’t fully understand—but I suspect it’s similar to ossification, the way that bones harden in developing children and animals. Once the crafting is complete, then the object is no longer malleable, and its connections to the conceptual realm are fully-formed.”
“So, enchanting is about functionality, while imbuing is about identity?” I muse, turning the words over in my mind and examining them for any fault. It sounds correct.
“Yes, I suppose so. They do function similarly, but usually an enchantment has more flexibility. A skilled [Enchanter] can overlay multiple spellforms, each for a specific purpose, as long as there’s room to add each of the engravings. Of course,” Ezio says, clearing his throat, “we must mention the caveat that the effects are weaker, not to mention that the enchantment will degrade over time and need to be repaired or replaced.”
“That’s why I prefer imbuing. It changes the nature of something, not just its use,” I say with a sudden flush of accomplishment. My words are veering into grandeur and glory, but I don’t care. It’s not often that I’m so fiercely proud of who I am and what I can do.
“Ah. Just so. Imbuing carries no such risk of fading over time. Yet, like all things, it's a trade-off between pros and cons. Imbuing is theoretically more powerful if a crafter ever makes it to the third Threshold, which is exceedingly rare, as you know. I suspect that if you continue to pursue power at such a mad pace—assuming you don’t burn out and die—then you will begin to gain the flexibility and multiplicity of enchantment without its downsides.”
“Maybe,” I say, chewing on the idea. “Maybe not. There’s still compatibility to consider. If I try to forcibly imbue something with an intent that’s radically opposed to the object’s purpose, I don’t think that will work. It’s the wrong concept; there’s no resonance.”
“Right you are. That’s where enchanting has its time to shine,” Ezio says, patting me on the shoulder gently. He reaches over to his desk, picks up the tea pot, and pours me another cup of the tea, gesturing for me to drink up.
I drain the cup in small, slow sips, and by the end I feel well enough to reclaim my spot in the overstuffed chair by Ezio’s desk. I stretch my neck side to side, working out the kinks from my impromptu nap on the floor. “I won’t stop working on this, but I may need oversight from the [Inquisitors]. Perhaps Lionel could also provide medical support.”
“Wise,” Ezio says, nodding. He squints at me for a long moment over the rim of his own tea cup, then wheezes out a chuckle. “Something tells me that you have a plan in mind already to test out your new theories. You always did prefer hands-on learning over theories. Having a [Healer] nearby should be mandatory for you from now on!”
“Got me there. I need to learn to peer into core spaces more reliably. Then, I’ll need time to access each one of your Skills—you, Rakesh, Ember, Casella, Mbukhe, Mikko, Lionel, the Linas, and anyone else we can trust.” I snap my fingers, sitting up straight. “Do you think I’ll be able to convince Nicanor to volunteer for a spar with Ember, so I can spy on his Skills without needing to tell him all the details? He has some amazing spear arts!”
Ezio groans and puts his head in his hands. “Bad idea, Nuri. Nevermind my suggestion earlier. A [Healer] isn’t good enough anymore. We need a bonafide [Miracle Worker] to raise you from the dead after the [Spear Commander] is through with you.”
=+=
“Why can't I make it myself?” Avelina says with a scowl and a toss of her thick, black braids. “It's all basic technique, Nuri. A simple pull, then throw on a bit of decoration. I can do that part with flume. You ask me, I’m better suited to this work than you are.”
I heave a tired sigh, resisting the urge to rub my forehead. We’ve been in the hot shop for half an hour, but we still haven’t started yet because we keep arguing in circles. “No contest there. You’re talented! But you can't imbue, Ava, so I won’t risk letting you make it. One hit while we're out adventuring and your entire wand will shatter.”
“Hmph. So? There’s an easy solution.
“Which is?” I ask as patiently as I can, although my eyebrows are trying to crawl right off my forehead, and I know she knows I’m annoyed.
“Teach me,” she says, arms crossed.
I shake my head. “No. Ohh, no. You wanna risk ruining the beast core? We might only get one shot at doing this right. I am not going back into the Rift if you break something.”
Her smile brightens maniacally. “Aw, c’mon! You know that I learn best under pressure! It’ll be fun. Where’s your sense of adventure?”
I throw my hand up in exasperation. “Fine, you make ninety-nine percent of the wand, and I’ll imbue it at the very end to make sure it doesn't break. Happy now?”
“Nope,” she replies instantly, shaking her head. “That’s a total waste of your talent. Why not give the wand a connection to the glorious concept of fire?”
“Because I have no idea how to do that, Ava. Let’s just stick with something that we know will work.”
“Peh! I know you can do it. Why else would you spend your time muttering to yourself by the crucible for days with your hand thrust into the middle of the hottest flames? You’re building rapport. It’s actually pretty cute!”
I roll my eyes. “For someone who works with glass for a living, you sure have a cavalier attitude about breaking things. We’ve all dropped things while working. It never ends well.”
Avelina walks over to the shelf of spares. She picks through pieces of glass, then lifts up a little figurine up a dove that she made a few days earlier—it looks like one of the discards from the eclectic, ever-growing menagerie for Lord Garman. Light catches the delicate wings and refracts, casting a rainbow across the wall nearby. She looks me right in the eye, hunches over the bird, and says the name of a Skill I’ve never heard from her before.
“[Strong as Stone],” Avelina declares boldly. She winks at me, and drops the glass dove onto the floor.
Instinctively, I lunge forward with my hand open, reaching out to catch the dove before the glass shatters on the hard floor. I miss, staggering off balance but unable to look away. The dove hits the floor, wingtip-first. I wince, bracing myself for the inevitable tinkle of broken glass as the slender wing crashes down. Yet the disaster never arrives. Instead, the figurine simply bounces.
“You've been holding out on me!” I shout in excitement.“ Why didn't you tell me that you picked up a new Skill? I would have been happy to work with you if I had known that you had your own way to prevent the wand from breaking. I thought you were just being stubborn.”
Avelina grins madly. “Totally worth it to see the dumbfounded look on your face. I was going to pretend that I learned how to mana imbue on the spot, so you’d hail me as a genius. I was afraid that you might try too hard to go along with my demands, though, and I'd miss out on the chance to get my new baby imbued with something more interesting than just the concept of unbreakable.”
“Oh, ‘just’ unbreakable,” I say, laughing. “As if it’s so common that it's not even worth mentioning anymore.”
“Pssh. It’s not that special, Nuri. Stop pretending like there’s only one mysterious way to do things! I got tired of my complex pieces breaking in the annealer, so I experimented with ways to strengthen the glass. And here we are! Now you can imbue something exciting, while I take care of the mundane bits.”
I laugh incredulously, which seems to be something of a theme when I’m dealing with Avelina, and shake my head at the flame-touched woman. “I admit it. You got me good! All right, why don't you take a look at these schematics and get started with the basic structure. I’ll prep the runic array for fire.”
Avelina smirks. A blue-white flame leaps to her fingertips. “I knew you would see it my way. Now, how about you hand me that rod of glass behind you so that I can melt it down and get started on my new wand?"
We spend the next hour working on practice wands before attempting to fuse the real thing with the beast core. Avelina has only limited uses of her [Strong as Stone] Skill, which in theory will prevent the wand from breaking, so I hold off imbuing the practice wands with fire. I need to see how her new Skill interacts with the complex rune, but I don’t want either of us to go low on mana before we work on the real thing, so we only try overlapping once.
Based on what Ezio explained about his theory of ossification, I imbue first, and then let Avelina apply her Skill. I don’t want to risk solidifying the mana and concepts contained within the wand by strengthening it first, which may cause it to reject my imbuing. It works perfectly, which makes me groan instantly. This just means Avelina will never shut up about me making her waste her time. Sure enough, she gives me a pointed look.
“Let’s just get this over with,” Avelina says. “I’m tired of making perfectly-good wands for you to turn up your nose and reject. Nothing’s going to go wrong. We could be blowing things up and setting trees on fire right now, Nuri! Don’t you see what’s at stake?”
“We have to do it right, Ava.”
“Borrrring.”
I sigh. “You wanna risk it?”
“If I have to choose between my new weapon exploding and dying of boredom, hmm, let me think—” she taps on her lips with her finger and squints, contorting her face painfully while she makes a show of thinning it over. “Uh. Yeah. That’s an easy one. I choose explosions!”
“You’re the one who needs a dedicated [Healer], not me,” I mutter, but she just flutters her eyelashes at me as though I’ve given her a compliment for her derring-do. “Fine. Let’s do this for real.”
Avelina cheers, shooting multi-colored flames into the air in celebration. Her control is mesmerizing—the entire spectrum of the rainbow erupts from her fingertips, one shade to each finger, all at once—but I’m not about to give her the satisfaction of knowing that I’m impressed. She’ll never let me live that down.
Thanks to all our practice, the wand takes shape in minutes. It’s a simple, elegant piece, with light fluting on the sides to provide some grip. I meditate on the meaning of fire, tracing the fractals and whorls in my mind as though repeating a prayer, and ensure that I leave a space for the beast core at the end of the pattern. The core is a little larger than my two fists put together, so the final weapon will look more like a mace than a stereotypical [Wizard]’s wand, but it should amplify the range and power of her spells exponentially.
“Nuri! Allll yours!” Avelina sings.
I nod sharply, willing the mana to congeal around the primal image of endless fire that I’ve cultivated in my mind while she worked on pulling the molten glass into a long wand shape. With a rush of power, the imbuing suffuses the wand, settling around the beast core that Avelina is holding in place for me. All the magical conduits connect, and the wand hums with power.
“[Strong as Stone],” Avelina says a moment later, overlaying her Skill. The wand shines as more mana pours into it, strengthening the glass beyond what should be physically possible. With a cheer, she gives me a high-five. “Perfect teamwork! Let’s get this to the annealer and go hit the pub for lunch to celebrate. We can make Melina speed things up so that we’re ready to test when we get back.”
“I like the way you think,” I reply, returning her mad grin. She might be a little obsessive, but working with her is a blast. Sometimes literally. She keeps things light and fun, and the glass dances under her ministrations. It’s fun to see everyone’s unique styles while making things. We all share glass as a medium, but our creativity always expresses itself in different ways.
Sure enough, by the time we return from the pub, our bellies full of hot, greasy food, Avelina’s wand is ready. I love having a budding time mage on our side. Waiting until tomorrow to test the fireball sounds like a terrible way to live.
Ember meets us in the doorway. She crosses her arms. “You best hike down to the river before you test that wand. I’ll cane you with the flat of your own father’s swords if you burn down my glass studio.”
“I’d never dream of it,” I protest, while sharing a guilty look with Avelina. We’d definitely planned to shoot off the wand in the courtyard, although in retrospect that seems like a foolish idea.
The entire studio suspends operations, and not even Ember’s threats can stop them from marching down to the riverside to watch the show. I don’t blame them for wanting to see what happens. If we fail, it’s going to be spectacular. This is the most excitement they’ll see all week, most likely.
Avelina clutches the wand to her chest with both hands, suddenly bashful. She bites her lip, staring at the audience. I’ve never seen her act so shy before, so I nudge her with my elbow and tell her to light em up.
She startles, as if waking from a dream, and smiles at me with her trademark crooked grin. I swear that even her eyes catch fire, flames dancing behind her pupils. She takes a deep breath and bellows out in a loud voice: “Stand back, folks! It’s about to get hot!”
The [Glass Workers] and [Gaffers] scurry backward, giving her a wide berth. They’ve all seen her in action before, and no one wants to go home with burn marks. She nods, spinning her wand in her hands like a performer in a marching band, and then points at a boulder on the far shore, nearly fifty paces away.
“Fireball!” Avelina shouts, pouring mana into the wand. Even though it’s not a Skill, the wand lights up at her command, resonating with her desire to burn. Power swirls along the rod of glass, gathers in the beast core, and rotates faster and faster. The wand glows with a bright light, forcing me to squint to avoid being blinded, and a huge ball of fire erupts from the tip of the wand, sending Avelina staggering backward as the enormous spell detonates with the force of an [Artillery Mage] raining down destruction on a city.
The powerful blast of ethereal blue fire erupts from the tip of the wand, screaming across the river and igniting the very air with the ferocity of its passage. Frantically, I siphon away the energy with my [Greater Heat Manipulation] to keep the onlookers from burning up just by virtue of proximity. Heat shimmers warp my view, but I can still see well enough to watch the big rock explode into tiny fragments.
I smile in grim satisfaction. The wand may be slow to arm, and from the way Avelina is panting and holding her head while she grins, it probably drains most of her mana to fire off a massive blast like that, but the absolute obliteration is unmatched. Finally, a weapon worthy of my favorite fire mage. May you burn forever, Ava.