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The Glass Mage: An Artisanal Progression Fantasy
B4 C9: Trinkets and Toys - Mikko

B4 C9: Trinkets and Toys - Mikko

Sparks leap into the air with a hiss. The hammer grows heavy and slick in my hand after spending all day shaping the dense metal of the shield that's slowly taking shape under my care. For once, I’m not in the glass studio. This afternoon, I’m helping Mikko at his forge. I’ve spent the last few weeks finishing up Rakesh’s armor, and now it's time for the next big project: Mikko’s badger-inspired shield. I came up with this particular idea while recovering from my mana-overdraw after our hunt, but I've been busy planning out equipment for each of my friends, not to mention joining Ember in the training yard.

Now I finally have time to work on the shield. Today, I’m helping my brother brainstorm a way to embed the crystals from the badger into a massive, rectangular shield that curves at the edges to cover most of Mikko’s body. I’ve never worked with metal or crystal before. Neither medium is quite in my comfort zone, but all of the underlying principles of craftsmanship and runes still apply.

At least, in theory.

My attempts to merge the two materials are not exactly going well. I've tried to cycle mana to my eyes and examine the structure of the crystals, but I haven’t been able to locate any runic components. If the Crystal Badger used a Skill instead of activating an inscribed runic array created by infusing the big chunk of crystal with mana, then I won't be able to copy it on the fly. Of course, that's all moot if I can't get the materials to play together nicely.

“Don’t look so glum,” Mikko says, putting down his own tongs and hammer and wiping his sweaty brow. He rolls his heavy shoulders, yawns, and grabs his water jug. After a noisy gulp, he lets out a loud sigh of satisfaction. “Honestly, I’d be a bit annoyed if you managed to make something amazing on your first go.”

“Oh, so now you want me to fail? Some brother you are,” I tease Mikko. “What happened to encouraging me on my first day in the smithy?”

“Psh. Nuri. You gotta toughen up if you think this is discouraging. I’m just pointing out that you’ve gotta give us a chance to shine. You're making the rest of us look bad!”

I nod sagely. “I am pretty incredible, huh? Look, it's easy. All you gotta do is run for your life, fight for survival in a Rift, and get captured by a crazy lady who chops up your Skills and teaches you runic empowerment.”

Mikko smirks at me, his arms folded across his broad chest. “Yep. I see the problem. That's way too simple for a prodigy like me. No wonder I never thought of it.” He flexes, a habit that’s gotten worse since my comments after our scrape with the bear. “Me? I live for a challenge!”

“A challenge? Like, say, affixing an organic crystal array onto a big metal shield?” I ask in an innocent voice.

This time my brother just grunts and scowls at me. His eyes narrow before he blows out his cheeks in mock annoyance. He holds out a hand, gesturing for the heavy shield. “Fine. Give it here.”

I cross my arms in return. “What are you going to do with it, muscle head? I’m the one who knows how to imbue. You just hit things.”

“Correction. I hit things really hard. Wanna see?” He balls up his fist and shakes it at me threateningly, just like we're seven and eight again, fighting and taunting each other in the kitchen until Kirsi separates us and threatens to bop us with her mixing spoon if we don't behave.

I let out a deep belly laugh as the warmth of memory crashes over me. It's good to spend time with my brother again. I give him the shield, curious to watch him work.

After the burden is gone, I wince at the strain in my fingers and forearm from wrestling with the heavy, ungainly shield all day. Maybe he can get the crystal structure to fuse with the metal using one of his metalworking Skills, then I can finish the attempt at imbuing. Team work!

“Thanks. If you get that big, shiny rock fixed in place, then I’ll go back to work on deciphering the crystals so you’re better protected. I don't want to risk you ruining your delicate constitution if you run into another bear.”

“Thoughtful as always, brother,” Mikko says. “But I’ve survived worse. You should look out for yourself. You’d lose your head, except it’s attached.”

I roll my eyes. “I’m not that bad.”

“Already lost a hand,” he points out, “and that used to be attached, too.”

“Walked into that one,” I mutter.

“Enjoy walking while you still have feet,” Mikko snickers.

This time I don't dignify his joke with a reaction. “You done? Or should I ask your boss to finish the shield for you? I want to get out of this stuffy building as soon as possible.”

“I don’t even want a shield,” Mikko grumbles. He heats up the metal again to working temperature, and redoubles his efforts with his hammer, pounding away at the two materials to join them together. “What about swords, like Ember?”

“You're our vanguard, not some [Duelist]. I'm not wasting a sharp blade on a dull brain.”

“Ooh, that was a good one,” Mikko replies, as jovial as ever. That’s one of my favorite things about my brother. He never takes anything too personally. His chuckles soon turn into an amused series of sounds as he hums a lively song I don’t recognize, so it’s probably from a local tavern.

I stretch out my sore neck and rub the knot in my shoulder. Everything aches. I press the tips of my fingers against the table to stretch my hand, as well. My muscles haven’t been challenged this badly in a while. Not even the hike with Ember forced me to exert myself this hard. Guess that means I have to train more. Can’t let my body fall behind my Skills and understanding of magic.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

“Metal too demanding for ya, young [Glassworker]?” a booming voice asks, shaking me from my reverie.

Mikko’s barrel-chested boss, Aatos, stomps into our corner of the smithy, a twinkle in his eyes as he watches me groan and gingerly move my sore muscles. “Takes a lot out of you, eh? I give you a lot of credit for trying out a different craft. You’re doing better than most first timers. Proper respect for the forge fire, too.”

“Terrifying heat is something our traditions share,” I reply deferentially. I wipe the grimace off my face and stand straight, ignoring my screaming muscles. “Glass can get heavy, but it’s not the same as swinging a big hammer for hours on end. Different strengths required.”

“Indeed,” the [Master of the Forge] murmurs. His eyes narrow, and he strokes his beard as he watches me, as though mulling over an idea. “Mikko tells me you’ve learned to mana-imbue. Congratulations on becoming the youngest master in the city. Any hints that you might be willing to share?”

“Trade secrets. I’m already contracted to Ember,” I say, shrugging as though it’s out of my control.

Aatos harrumphs, fixing me with a scowl. “I’d pay your Master, of course. I’m not trying to weasel anything out of you.”

“I believe you,” I say with conviction. “My brother wouldn’t bother to work for anyone underhanded.”

That earns me a chuckle and an approving nod from Aatos. “Sounds like Mikko. He’s a good kid.”

“A good man,” Mikko says, pausing from his hammering just long enough to stress that he’s reached adulthood.

“My little forge-fiend, all grown up,” Aatos says, sniffing and pretending to wipe away tears. He swaggers over to examine our work. “Now, move aside and let me show you how to make the metal sing.”

To my surprise, Mikko leaps away from the shield with a salute and a shout. “Yes, sir!” His eyes are shining in anticipation. I thought he’d feel slighted that his Master didn’t trust him to do the work, but instead he appears eager to learn.

I vow to copy his attitude. I’ve had way too many arrogant reactions—moments in my life that I'm not proud of. I want to do better. I want to be better.

Within a few minutes, Master Aatos is done. The flashes of mana glimmer too quickly for me to follow with my half-mended sight, but I’m starting to form theories of how to fold mana into other types of material. Metal may have an easier time forming a retention structure due to its higher tensile strength compared with glass.

“Watch closely,” I find myself saying as I step up to his side and place my hand on the chunk of crystals embedded into the shield. I barely have to create a lattice to begin the imbuing process, since the badger already prepped the crystal with a primal version of a retention structure.

Aatos cycles mana to his eyes, activating an ability that I instantly recognize, and watches with a longing look on his face as I imbue the now familiar concept of unbreakable into the crystals. The magic takes hold easily, since mana and medium are already compatible, and I’m barely sweating by the time the work is done.

“By the eternal forge,” Aatos breathes. He picks up the shield, cradling it like a baby. “Just like that, eh? Mikko wasn't exaggerating. You've got talent, just like your father.”

Aatos must see the questioning look in my eyes at his comment, because he shakes his head sadly. “Didn't know him, only his reputation. Sorry to see him go all the same.”

“He’d be proud of you,” Mikko says softly as he steps up to admire the shield. He pulls me into a one-armed side hug. “And I am, too. Thanks.”

A slow smile, part melancholy but mostly satisfaction, spreads across my face. I lost a father, but gained a brother. I hope this shield keeps him safe, because I'm not ready to lose him, too.

=+=

The next day I’m back in the glass studio, ready to create. Despite my brother’s profuse thanks for his new shield, and his protestations that he doesn’t need more gear, I’m adamant about making him a new hammer to go along with the shield. His old hammer dented when he hit the bear, but I’ll bet the monster wasn’t even as tough as a Rift boss. He needs something stronger. I’m not about to let him depart on another adventure without a suitable weapon. The shield is an experiment through and through, although I think it seems promising. Mikko needs at least one reliable piece of kit.

Besides, the hammer that I have in mind is like nothing he’s ever seen before. I can guarantee that. Lighter and stronger than his previous hammer, this glass warhammer will be easier to carry and swing around, but it will pack a hidden punch. My plan is to imbue a special inscription inspired by a complex rune I remember from my brief interaction with the Skill on loan from Lady Evershed. If it works as intended, Mikko will be able to unleash a burst of extra weight just before impact, doubling or even tripling the force behind his blows compared with his old forge hammer.

The cold blowpipe in my hand gradually warms up as I turn it in the hot glass at the furnace. The warmth is pleasant and nostalgic—a reminder of my early days. The gather soon reaches the size I have in mind, and I shuffle backward, away from the blazing glory of the crucible. I grip the pipe with one hand, tucking the other end under my armpit for stability, and turn toward a bucket of cold water I prepared earlier.

I shift my grip on the blow pipe and hold the glass end down so that the entire glob of molten glass falls into the bucket as one huge teardrop. It hits the water with a furious hiss and a plume of steam. The hot glass hardens as it's cooled at a rapid pace, creating a spiral shape in the bucket. The end that went in first is smooth and rounded, forming a broad and heavy bulb. It tapers to a long, trailing tail that ends in a delicate point.

The resulting piece of glass doesn't look like a carefully crafted product, but it is elegant in its own rough, naturalistic way. A well-known phenomenon, the teardrop is incredibly strong on the large rounded end, and incredibly fragile at the tip. One side can stop a speeding arrow in flight, and the other will shatter if I just flick it with my fingertips.

Today, I’m trying an experiment: using mana-imbuing to get around the inherent weakness of creating this particular teardrop. I draw on the mana in my glass pseudo cores and summon the concept of unbreakable again, willing it to infuse the glass with unyielding hardness and durability. It's difficult at the best of times to convince a material to take on properties that are diametrically opposed to its nature, but it's significantly more challenging when there’s additional weakness in the structure to account for.

My mana levels drop precipitously, but the imbuing takes hold. I let out a little cheer as the glass grows denser and more profound in my rapidly recovering vision. It’s not true [Manasight] yet, but I’m definitely re-developing the ability to sense mana. Pleasantly surprised by the success on my first try, I almost don't know what to do with myself for the rest of the day other than practice inscribing the runic array.

I tap my finger to my chin, thinking over my plans. I'll fish out the glass hammer head from the bucket of water, add the complex rune, and attach an ashwood handle, which I will wrap in strips of leather around the bottom for added comfort and grip. After that? I may try to tear down the remains of my second Skill to see if I can regain [Manasight] with my fresh levels of insight. If all goes well, then maybe I can even earn the upgraded version of my old Skill. That sounds nice.

But first, I need to finish each portion of the glass warhammer. Mikko is my friend, my brother, and my team’s stalwart protector. He deserves the very best.