[participant in the Royal Road Writathon challenge]
The next morning, after a listless night of little sleep, I meet up with the team in the common room again. I’m holding my lower back, massaging a knot I got from the lumpy, uncomfortable mattress. I don’t know whether to feel better or worse when I see that the others are stretching out kinks in their neck and grumbling about their own lack of sleep.
“Nice to see you all suffering, too,” Lionel says, clearly not sharing my compunctions. He flings himself down into a creaky chair and props up his boots on the table. “Whew! I was worried that the [Innkeeper] didn’t like my wit and hexed my room or something. What a relief.”
“Keep acting so chipper this early in the morning, and hexes will be the least of your worries,” Avelina grumbles, holding her head. She lets out a pitiful moan and drops her forehead to the table.
“Oho. It’s already mid-morning, Ava. Someone had too much to drink last night, huh? I would have thought with all the fire in your veins that you could just burn off the alcohol,” Lionel says, snickering.
Avelina sits up slowly. Her eyes narrow, sparking dangerously. She rubs her nose, then sneezes at Lionel, sending a shower of sparks his way. “Shut it. You had twice what I did. Keep jabbering away so loudly and I’ll burn your room down around your ears, ya pest.”
“I’m shaking in my boots!”
“Stop antagonizing my sister. And no burning down the inn, Ava. We have to live here for the next week.”
“Aw, c’mon, Mel! You’re no fun.”
“Not burning things seems like a good policy,” Rakesh says, glancing around the table nervously. “Please, let’s try not to antagonize our hosts.”
I wink at Avelina while Rakesh is looking the other way. “On second thought, go ahead and blaze away. Just wait until we’re out of reach and they can’t throw us in prison. I’ve had enough of jail to last a lifetime.”
Rakesh buries his head in his hands and groans. “I’ve made a terrible mistake, haven’t I? Master Ezio warned me that this would be a growing experience, but I didn’t take his words to heart. Why can’t an adventure simply be fun, not challenging?”
Mikko passes a platter piled high with warm rolls slathered with honey and butter. “Breakfast isn’t bad. Eat. Relax! No one feels good on an empty stomach.”
“Thanks,” Rakesh says, accepting the rolls.
“Truth is, an easy trip isn’t much of an adventure,” I say, holding up my left arm and nodding to the empty spot where my hand used to be. “Sometimes it might not seem worth the tradeoffs, but tough times force you to take a good, hard look at yourself. Easy living doesn’t tend to lead to much introspection, at least not in my experience. Maybe I’m just hard-headed, and need extra knocks to learn my lesson, but it seems like I discovered the most about myself when my back was up against the wall.”
Lionel snatches a roll away from Rakesh and stuffs it into his mouth. His cheeks bulge out like a chipmunk’s while he chews, talking noisily around his chewing. “When you put it that way, I’m fine with not knowing much about myself. Doesn’t seem like a very nice trade.”
“Don’t even start, Lio,” I say, shaking my head at him. “I know you’ve got big ideas rattling around in that half-empty bucket you call a head. You’re a lot sharper than you let on. Now pass me a roll, will ya?”
He tosses a roll at me, but I manage to catch it just before it splatters honey all across my cheek. It’s a close call, and I give him a flat, unamused look, but that just seems to encourage him to throw even more food.
Lionel slides a bowl of pistachios closer and piles up a handful in front of him. He alternates between eating them and flicking them at me one by one. I dodge and weave, catching the pistachios in my mouth until he picks up the pace and I start to miss. One bounces off my nose, skitters across the table, and drops down to the floor right in front of our [Innkeeper].
The [Innkeeper]’s face clouds over. He sets down his tray of drinks at our table with more force than is strictly necessary, bends down to pick up the pistachio at his feet, and glances up at us with a raised eyebrow. “Staying long?”
“Not likely,” Lionel says, all rosy-cheeked innocence as he smiles up at the man. “Thanks for breakfast. We’ll be on our way soon.”
“I look forward to my peace and quiet,” our host mutters. He distributes the mugs, crunches down on the pistachio, and shuffles off back to the kitchen with the now-empty tray tucked under his arm.
“This town just oozes hospitality.”
“Shush, Lio,” I hiss. An unhappy [Innkeeper] can make our lives miserable if he decides to get payback. Clean rooms and food that doesn’t give us the runs rely on his positive attitude toward us. I just hope he didn’t hear us complain.
For once, my friend listens. Maybe it’s simply too early for Lionel to think of a good comeback, but I’ll take the little victories as well as the big ones. We finish our meal, collect our day packs, and trudge outside.
I gather everyone together in a somewhat-empty corner of the town square. Compared with the capital, not many people are about their business, but the foot traffic is still on par with Silaraon during a busy hour of the day. I glance up at the sky, squinting, and confirm that the sun is still a few hours away from noon. Even so, it’s already ablaze with golden glory.
I close my eyes, letting the resplendent heat warm my face. When I open them, I feel a surge of vitality and excitement. “All right! Listen up. This morning, we’re going to practice our combination casting. It’s been a while since we've made anything together, but our Skills have grown more varied and powerful since the last time we all linked up. Without a studio, we’ll need to rely on our Skills more than ever. I have faith in you.”
Mikko raises his hand as though he's back in class. When I call on him like a student, switching to my best professorial tone, he crosses his arms and snorts at me. “That might work for glass, but I brought an anvil in my backpack since I can't shape metal with my bare hands. I have a hammer and material. All I need from you is heat. Do you think your upgraded [Heat Manipulation] or Ava’s fire will get hot enough and last long enough to get through a day at the forge, or should I ask for temporary space with a blacksmith?”
I frown in thought. “Unsure. It all depends on how much mana it takes to sustain your working temperatures. I think steel melts at a slightly lower temperature than glass, so I should be able to handle it. But if I have to pull double duty to keep the glass malleable as well, then I dunno if a mobile workshop is doable if we're only relying on me and Ava. We might have to stick to just glass for today.”
Avelina hums, pursing her flame-red lips as she considers the question. “With my wand, I can sustain a pretty long output of lower-intensity fire. As long as I'm not trying to burn down a city gate, I think it will work. We might as well give it a trial run.”
“Right here, with everyone watching?" Lionel asks. His bronzed face takes on a sickly pallor. “Remember how many times I failed when we tried to make something together before? Mana leakage is embarrassing. I don’t wanna do that in public!”
“It’ll attract customers,” I say.
Lionel blanches. “Failure doesn’t sell.”
I nod back at him with more confidence than I feel. “People love to see a spectacle. If we can show them what we can do with our unusual Skill combinations, then they’ll be more likely to come to us for their own projects.”
“But what if I mess up?”
“Easy,” Avelina interrupts. “Don't fail.”
“Why didn’t I think of that?” Lionel says.
“Hey, be nice to Lio,” Mikko rumbles.
“Look at you learning to be polite,” Melina says with a chuckle. “You’re growing up right before our eyes.”
Mikko shrugs, but he looks pleased. “Never know when you might need him to patch you up, so I’m staying on his good side. Being mean to our [Healer] is stupid.”
“Wise policy. Now focus, everyone.” I take a deep breath to calm my racing mind, and try not to think of what might go wrong. “Let’s get to work. Combining our Skills successfully takes practice, and today’s just the start. It doesn’t matter if we don’t do everything perfectly.”
“Actually, Lionel has a point,” Rakesh says, catching me off guard. He’s still wearing his robes from the academy, which makes him stand out in the middle of the working class crowd. He leans against a weathered post near the edge of the town square, a mournful expression on his face, and the juxtaposition between the earnestness of his baby face and the pitted surface of the rock pillar behind makes me smile. Somehow, despite his youth, Rakesh manages to look even more worn down than the post itself.
I give him a lackadaisical shrug. “As our treasurer, you know exactly how much we have in the coffer. We can last a while. We aren’t in this for the money this morning. We have enough for the journey. Whether or not we sell to the local crowd isn’t going to make or break us.”
“Right, but reputation is worth more than gold. How do you think the local [Lord] will feel about the squad the army offloaded to him if he hears we can't even handle crafting? Speaking of him, have you even checked in to let him know we’ve arrived? You shouldn’t ignore him just because you want to practice.”
“He’s not expecting us until tomorrow,” I say, which seems to help Rakesh relax. “Might as well make use of our time, right?”
Rakesh nods diplomatically, but he still seems uneasy. “Yes. But creating things comes more naturally to you than violence, so it’s not a good look if we display any incompetence in that field. Might make the [Lord] doubt we can handle his request.”
I wrinkle up my nose. “You got a point.”
That brings a faint smile to the overly-serious young [Researcher]’s face. “Thank you. I do try.”
Lionel just chuckles. He smacks Rakesh on the shoulder. “For someone so smart, you sure are good at overlooking the obvious.”
“Oh? And what, pray tell, have I missed?”
“No worries, my [Researcher] friend, you’re still a shattering genius. You’re not alone here. Everyone keeps making the same key mistake when it comes to Nuri: they somehow think violence is his secondary talent. But! They forget that he's uniquely gifted when it comes to breaking things.”
“You don't have to sound so smug about it,” I say, shoving my hand in my pocket and ducking my head. “I’d still rather make something than destroy things.”
“C'mon, Nuri. Don't get it twisted,” Lionel says, throwing an arm around my shoulder. “I'm proud of you! Name me one other civilian crafter who has earned the respect of a Second Threshold [Spear Commander].”
I shift my posture so that I'm facing in towards the group and passersby can't hear me as well. “You make it sound like I'm some bloodthirsty barbarian! You know me better than that.”
Everyone in the group avoids my gaze for a moment, coughing to cover up their amusement. I lift up my chin imperiously. “I see. It's like that, is it? Then I suppose I’ll show you just how ruthless I really am.”
Mikko lets out a gut-busting laugh. “Oh, now you’ve done it. Nice work, Lio. Have fun with my crazy brother.”
I grab Mikko's arm as he's about to walk back to the inn. “You aren't getting out of things that easily, Ko. Based on the city map I perused last night, there should be a river a few streets over. Go down by the stone supports of the bridge’s archways and dig up some silt and sand. I’ll need at least a few bushels full, maybe even half a dozen, so find a large barrel or crate to carry it in. Time for you to put those big old muscles to work.”
“Yes sir, big boss!” Miko salutes with a flourish and jogs off in the direction I pointed, whistling a jaunty tune and dodging between carts and pedestrians. I hope he's up to the task, since I need a whole lot of raw material before I can cast [Vitrification]. I don't want to muck around with a few pitiful handfuls of glass for our practice session. I want to put on a show so spectacular that it sets the entire city buzzing with feverish excitement.
My mind drifts back to the absurd street performance I saw in Modilaraon. I’m not skilled enough with words or storytelling to write a script, but their performative spirit inspires me all the same. We’re going to gather an audience and dazzle them. I just hope that Lionel's concerns about something going terribly wrong aren’t prophetic.
“Let's review our roles while we're waiting for my lunkhead of a brother to come back with the start of our new batch. If you have any new Skills, or if you’ve ranked up your old Skills since last time we tried this, then make sure I know about it.”
Melina laces her fingers together. She tilts her head toward me. “Shouldn't Rakesh coordinate? He has a communication Skill, and he’s the best at collating data. Just because this is your expedition doesn't mean that you have to bear the burden of leadership. In fact, sharing the load sets us up for better long-term success.”
I take a breath, prepared to shoot down her argument, but the words die on my lips as I think over her suggestion. Huh. She’s probably right. If I try to do everything myself all the time, then I’ll just burn out. Real leadership isn’t about seizing power, but about presenting a vision of the future and putting the right people in positions to succeed so that the envisioned future becomes reality. I nod at her. “All right. Sounds good to me. Rakesh? You're up.”
His eyes widen in alarm. “I can facilitate communication, but I don't know anything about making glass!”
“Pfft. Don’t worry about it. Glassmaking is so easy, even Nuri can do it,” Lionel quips.
I groan. “I have the worst friends.”
“Uh, you mean best,” Lionel says.
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“I say what I mean and mean what I say.”
Lionel quirks his brow. “On backward day.”
“No. Every day, you flux-brain.”
“Skills, if you please,” Rakesh interrupts in a crisp, businesslike voice. He has a notepad in hand, his pen poised over it like a falcon ready to dart down and strike its prey. “Mikko will be back before you know it. We ought to be ready when he returns.”
“I assume you only want my glass-related Skills?” Lionel asks. At a nod from Rakesh, he continues. “I have [A Perfect Prototype], [A Master’s Touch: Thirty Seconds of Greatness], [Fault Finder], [Quick Cool], and [Lesser Resistance: Mental Strain].”
Rakesh writes it down faithfully, never once looking up from the page. His eyes glimmer with mana as he mulls over the Skills, no doubt due to activating his own analysis Skills. “Useful for planning and discerning potential problems. Good. You are essential to creating models and mock-ups. If we can eliminate problems before they begin, then we will be well-positioned for success.”
Melina raises her hand eagerly. “Me next! I have [Compositional Analysis], which helps me to mix a perfect batch each time. [In the Blink of an Eye] is a localized temporal Skill. I often use it in conjunction with [Lesser Object Manipulation] so that I can keep the glass free-floating and prevent it from deforming by coming in contact with anything. I have [Flawless Annealing], which helps me avoid cracking or discoloration while the glass cools. I also recently picked up [Artisanal Acuity], which seems to speed up my thoughts and guides me to more aesthetically pleasing results. I’m curious if it applies in a more academic setting, but that’s outside of the scope of today’s activities. Maybe you can help me with it another time!”
Rakesh cracks a slight smile. “My pleasure. Sounds like you’re next in line after Lionel. If you two allow me to use [Shared Synchrony] on you, then you can intuitively communicate and work on something at the same time. Your Skills are actually quite complementary, so I’m glad to have you two go first. We’ll all be able to see the glass take shape in the air as you bring the prototype from concept to reality.”
Avelina yawns. “You talk too much, sis. Our little scholar is smart enough to figure out how to apply what we can do.”
“I’m a [Secretarial Researcher], not a mere [Scholar]. And you owe me Skills,” Rakesh says with great dignity.
Avelina laughs easily. “Fine, fine. But you gotta trade me info. Skill for Skill? I’ve always been curious about the SCA. You’re all odd.”
“We’re not—you know what? Nevermind.” Rakesh taps his pen on his notepad. “Let’s try to stay on topic. Skills, please.”
“All right, all right. I’ve got [Flametouch], [Command: Cinder and Spark], [Strong as Stone], [Decorative Touch: Fantastical Glassware], and a crazy new one: [Adjuration of the Phoenix]. Bet you haven’t heard of a Phoenix. Figure out what it does, and I’ll be impressed.”
“Intriguing names.” Rakesh knits his brow. His hand flutters up to touch his temple, and a sudden swirl of arcane mana warps the air around him.
The mana is so intense that it obscures my still-developing mana sight, which makes me frown. I have to come up with a way around its current deficiencies, but my homemade solution is lagging behind the real thing. I can’t wait to get a true [Manasight] Skill again, or an upgraded version thanks to all the practice I’ve had looking beyond, as my [Inquisitor] friends taught me. That would be nice. I’m overdue for a Skill, by my reckoning.
A moment later, Rakesh smirks, unable to hold back his smug reactions. “According to my Skill [Epiphany of the Scholar], the Phoenix is a mythical creature with strong fire magic and mystical abilities. Some even claim they're capable of resurrection, rising up in a blaze of glory. I assume that Adjuration is not only a massive boost to your control over flames and gives you powerful regeneration, but it also enables you to either summon a familiar or temporarily borrow the power of a being beyond you. How am I doing?”
Avelina whistles. “Told ya he’s a genius. Yep, I can borrow some extra fire power, but my mana costs triple. That’s how I blew up that rock with my wand! It’s fun.”
Melina nudges me, leaning in and whispering so her sister can’t hear. “She’s easily impressed by other people, but not by me. When I told her the same thing about Phoenixes, she said that I was showing off. I think all that fire means she’s inhaled too much smoke. It’s given her brain damage.”
I snort back a laugh. “I’m just glad that we’ve got someone to put her in her place. Ava is a lot of fun when she’s threatening to burn things, but I won’t lie—sometimes I worry she’s going to follow through. Rakesh is a restraining presence.”
“As for my research-related abilities,” Rakesh continues affably, having risen to Avelina’s challenge, “I also have [Pattern Matching: Overlooked Commonalities], [Shared Synchrony], and the communication-oriented [Echo of the Songbird]. Like you, I’ve also recently acquired a fifth Skill, but it’s classified.”
Avelina squeaks. “Tell me, tell me!”
“Can’t.”
“But I gotta know!”
Rakesh shrugs. “Take it up with the SCA.”
“I’m not smart like Mel,” Avelina protests.
“Ah. Shame,” Rakesh says, a touch smug.
“Make way! Coming through! Don’t wander, though; you’re about to witness a display of magic and mastery like nothing you’ve ever seen before!” Mikko’s voice thunders over the crowd, interrupting their ridiculous argument and making me wince from the sheer volume. The crowd scatters, heeding my brother’s warning, and re-forms around us in a semi-circle to watch what’s going on.
“Will you look at that,” I mutter, staring at the approaching cart in disbelief. “Mikko must be more charming than I ever realized.”
The oxen-led cart wheels into place right by our group, creaking to a stop as the driver pulls back on the reins.
“Hey, everyone. This is Kofi,” Mikko says, nodding at the rail-thin driver. He hops down to the cobblestones in the town square, pats the ox closest to him on the flank, and grins. “Met him down by the bridge when I was digging up sand, and he agreed to lend me his cart as long as I helped him offload his fish. He’s a [Fisherman], which he claims is an upgraded version of [Layabout], since he works even less but makes more money.”
I wave at Kofi in greeting, and he doffs his straw hat and winks at me, seemingly amused by the introduction—although I’ll bet anything that Mikko stole the joke from him. Kofi doesn’t seem to mind in the slightest, however. I like the [Fisherman] immediately. He seems nice.
I raise my voice, although I can’t match Mikko’s stentorian tones. “Thanks, brother. Could you make sure the crowd stays on the perimeter? Dump the sand in a pile where everyone can see it, but keep them back far enough to keep us from, ahem, burning anyone.”
That gets people talking.
Mikko makes a show of squatting down, then swings his arms and leaps all the way over the oxen and up to the back of the cart, landing lightly on his feet. He bends down, slides open the latch, which groans as the rusty metal protests having to move, and heaves an enormous, woven-reed basket down to the cobbles with a heavy thud.
The impact sends tremors up my feet, and I raise an eyebrow. “How much sand did you gather? I don’t know if I can transmute all of that.”
“And which Skill was that? I’ve never seen you jump so high,” Rakesh says, walking over to stand shoulder to shoulder with me. He squints, examining Mikko instead of the huge delivery of sand and silt.
“Huh? Oh, you mean [Strength of the Forged Gods]?” Mikko booms, ensuring that all of the audience we’ve acquired hears his pronouncement. He winks at me while excited susurrus spreads through the crowd.
“Yes. What else?” Rakesh demands, wielding his pen like an [Emperor] with a scepter. He waits for Mikko’s reply with imperious expectation.
“Uhh, let’s see.” Mikko scratches his head, suddenly looking abashed at all the attention on him. “I got [Iron Skin] thanks to fighting with my brother, [Eye of Discernment] after I created my first solo commission, [Refine Material: Metal] since I was too lazy to melt the metal and scrape off impurities by hand. Oh! And I have [Greater Endurance]. And before you ask, I got that from working in the forge for a week straight.”
Lionel snickers behind me, but I shoot him a glare before he cracks a ribald joke, and he shuts up with a roll of his eyes. I know the team sometimes thinks I’m no fun, but it’s just not my kind of humor.
Rakesh turns to me expectantly. “You’re up next, Nuri. I have to admit that I’m looking forward to hearing your list, particularly since I can compare it against the one Ezio had me compile before you left Silaraon last year. You’ve picked up some unusual abilities.”
I grin at the team, no longer embarrassed that I only have two Skills now. “You already know about [Greater Heat Manipulation], but I also made [Vitrification].”
He gawks at me, picking up on the wording, but we move on before any of the shrewder people in the crowd realize that I created my own Skill from scratch. I’m not too worried, though; it sounds so ludicrous that no one would believe me, anyway.
Rakesh clears his throat, pitching his voice so that it carries, like he’s giving a lecture. I never took him for much of an [Actor], but he takes to the role well. “It stands to reason that in order to make something out of glass, we’ll need glass first. Master Nuri, as the senior crafter in our illustrious party, please go first. Show us [Vitrification]!”
I lift my hand above my head, waving to the crowd and playing up my role in our street performance. A few half-hearted cheers sound out, but I don’t let the lukewarm reception get me down. Once they see the Skill in action, they’ll come around.
I walk over to the big sand pile, place my hand on the top, and bow my head. I draw in as much mana as I can from my glass pseudo cores, hoping that I have enough false Capacity to transmute the entire pile, and speak in a low, authoritative voice. “[Vitrification].”
Power blooms at my fingertips—mana made visible due to the intensity of the Skill casting—and blue-white wisps of energy spiral through the sand and small stones. The Skill ignites, surging through the raw material, and it glows so brightly that I have to squeeze my eyes shut while the sand pile transforms into a huge pyramid of glass.
Gasps and applause meet my display of power. I wave again, all smiles as I bow, but I soon back toward the team and cede the floor to Lionel, who is going to create a prototype, and the Linas, who will use Avelina’s fire to melt down the glass while Melina levitates the project in the air for everyone to see while she shapes it telekinetically.
While Rakesh consults his notes, analyzing optimal Skill combinations and assigning the team roles, I sink inward, seeking the truth behind their abilities. Piercing the veil of magic and beholding the three-dimensional nature of the complex runes is both dizzying and exhilarating, terrifying and deeply addicting.
—four dimensional? Five? I’ve lost count.
I sway on my feet, shaken by realities beyond me. Thankfully, the others ignore my drunken stagger, still caught up in the game of comparing Skills and discussing how they can work together. It’s like assembling a jigsaw puzzle, and they’re all invested in putting together the pieces so that they can enjoy the final image.
Focus, Nuri. You can do this.
I ignore the strange looks from some of the passersby closest to Kofi’s cart, although a distant part of my mind notes that the audience is growing. I take things more slowly this time, watching a single rune activation as Melina lifts a ball of glass into the air. It’s less strain on my psyche than trying to wrap my mind around an entire Skill all at once.
Flight is a concept for me, There’s something carefree and mischievous about it, but the way Melina is applying her Skill, it’s perfectly controlled—not constrained as though the energy is imprisoned, but channeled into something productive and perfect, like the line a falcon makes when it swoops down on its prey. Streamlined, powerful, frighteningly fast.
“What next, Nuri?”
I flinch, startled back to the waking world by Lionel’s question. He nods to a fancy goblet that’s spinning slowly above the crowd, shining like a rainbow as Avelina uses her [Decorative Touch: Fantastical Glassware] Skill to add color and fire to the design.
“Nice. But how about something more fun?” I suggest. My mind drifts back to Ifran and his [Perfect Sphere] ability. “How about a set of marbles? You can use [Quick Cool] along with Mel’s annealing Skill to bring the little set down to temp so we can give them to a lucky kid in the crowd.”
“Excellent suggestion,” Rakesh murmurs approvingly. He makes a few notes in his book, which leaves me feeling both flattered and ashamed.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to take over. You clearly were doing well, directing them to make a goblet that nice while I was indisposed.”
Rakesh smiles and waves me off. “If I’ve learned one thing from Ezio, it’s that [Scholars] are a prideful, prickly bunch. They often chase selfish vainglory instead of seeing the value of teamwork. How many discoveries have we missed because we didn’t listen to other voices? You have more experience; I’d be a fool to ignore your input.”
“I’m glad you’re here, Rakesh,” I reply warmly. “You’re a good man. Looks like I can learn a lot from you, too.”
Our moment is interrupted by squeals of delight before Rakesh can reply, which is a relief to me anyway. I’m not good with affirmation and emotions. The children in the crowd see the tiny flames trapped inside of the marbles, courtesy of Avelina’s impressive designs, and as soon as she gives away the first one, they clamor for more.
“I want two little soldiers! One with a red cap, and one with blue, so they can fight!” a small boy with a big voice calls out, pushing through the crowd to stand at the front. His unruly mop of dusty-brown curls, bright green eyes, and gap-toothed grin instantly brings a smile to my face as I think of my friend Baryl.
I miss that little brat, I think fondly. Hope he’s doing well back in Grand Ile. Maybe Lady Evershed hired him for her shop. He’d make a great errand boy and lookout.
“Sure,” Lionel replies without thinking, grinning back at the young boy. A moment later he blanches as other children in the area mob us with demands.
“Should have seen that coming,” Mikko says, bumping me with his shoulder. “I see that you’re gonna be popular with the kids, at least.”
“I can think of worse things to do with my life than making toys and giving them away for free. Not everyone is a curmudgeon like you, Ko,” I tease him.
I wink as he laughs, then lend my [Greater Heat Manipulation] to the cause, bringing the rest of the glass up to a more malleable temperature so that my other three coworkers from the Silaraon Glass Works can fill the orders that are flying in fast and thick. We work at record pace, crafting little figures and marbles, eschewing fancier projects for the sake of speed.
“Oi! A couple of dolls for my girls, and be quick about it. I hafta get back to my shop,” a heavy-set [Butcher] bellows, panting from the exertion of running over. He wipes his still-bloody hands on his apron, scowls at the blown glass on display, and harrumphs. “But not too fragile. Girl’s gotta be able to play with ‘em. I want my money back if they break.”
“They are made of glass,” I say wryly, about to point out that it’s not much of a refund if we’re giving them away free, but he scowls and stomps off without another word to spare.
Melina gives me an odd look. “Ava could have taken care of the dolls with [Strong as Stone], you know. No need to be rude.”
I shrug. “I can do without that kind of patronage, Mel. Those kids are cute. They’re not making demands; they’re just telling us their dreams. We’re making their day! That guy? He couldn’t even wait his turn.”
Lionel sets down his blowpipe and gives us a cheeky grin. “Oh, the [Butcher]? Yeah, I agree. He was pushy and rude. You might even say he was a bit ham-fisted.”
“You ought to be ashamed of yourself,” Melina says, burying her face in her hands just as I groan and tell Lionel how terrible his puns have become.
“What?” Lionel says innocently. “I think I spotted a rasher of bacon hanging out of his apron pocket. Seemed appropriate.”
Movement on the edge of the town square catches my eye, sparing me from answering Lionel about his bad jokes. I glance over to see a pair of guards part the crowds, heading our way with frowns on their faces. Uh oh. Show’s over.
I motion the Linas closer. “I don’t know if we’ll need a permit to set up shop here, but I’m counting on us getting off light because we’re not selling anything. What else can we do quickly to use up the rest of the glass?”
“More marbles. Tops!” Melina says.
“I could probably do a Phoenix,” Avelina says haltingly. She looks down, chewing on her lip. “Not sure if it’s worth the headache of invoking my best Skill, though.”
“Hmm. Animal figurines are certainly a popular type of glass figurine, but save that for another day. Maybe after we have a permit to sell, yeah?”
“Smart. That’s why you’re the boss.”
Melina sighs. “I could have told you that, Ava. It doesn’t take a genius to realize that.” She breaks off a second later as her sister snickers at her. “Ava! Stop playing dumb! I know you’re not that scatterbrained.”
Avelina winks. “No, but it’s fun seeing how indignant you get when you think I’m stupid. I just like messing with you.”
I shush the twins as they tease each other, and step forward to greet the two [Guards]. I sketch a quick bow. “We’re almost out of toys for the morning, but I’m sure I can eke out one last souvenir for your kids. How old are they?”
The pair exchange glances. The woman on the right tucks a stray strand of hair back under her helmet. “Nice try, but attempting to bribe a [Guard] is a class three violation.”
I shake my head. “Not a bribe at all! We’re just putting on a little demonstration to raise everyone’s spirits. People seemed a bit down, so we wanted to cheer them up.”
“New around here?” her partner grunts. He shifts his shield to his back and plants his spear, seeming to decide we’re not much of a threat. “Of course people are on edge. Monster sightings in the woods lately.”
“Ah, about that. We’re actually here to take care of that problem—”
“No selling without a permit,” the first guard says flatly. She gives me a withering look. “Whatever excuse you’re about to make, stow it. You’re all under arrest.”
“I knew it!” Rakesh wails, overhearing the last part of our conversation. He gives me a look of pure despair at the announcement. “You said we were going to avoid prison, Nuri. I’m too young to rot away my life in jail!”