Breakfast the next morning is a seafood affair: a meal of steamed freshwater oysters and some sort of water-based greens that I don’t recognize. They’re chewy and have an unusual, bumpy texture, but I enjoy the flavor. No one speaks much while we eat, too busy stuffing our faces with delicacies. Over an hour later, Ned clears the plates off the table in the main room, and we begin discussing our options. Bellies full, our bodies all seem to share the same lethargy. We’re speaking idly instead of planning for our next stage with any urgency.
Setting out to explore the town in the heavy rain seems like a non-starter, since visibility is poor and shops are closed. According to Ned, they’ll open back up once things slow down, so I guess it’s all right to take our time.
“Should blow over by twilight,” Azariah says, picking a bit of the tough, salty vegetable out of his teeth. “Getting a sense we should talk with the mayor, see what’s going on.”
He doesn’t outright mention his Skill, so I don’t, either. I just nod and take in the details for later. “Rakesh, you’re our treasurer. How are our funds looking if we need to book passage? Surely there’s a [Storm Captain] who can still navigate during the squalls.”
“Not likely,” Azariah says. “Best bet may be to find a [Caravanner] and go around the far edge of the inland sea. Slow, but doable.”
“What about the people you mentioned on the way in?” I ask.
“Dunno what ya mean. I asked around,” Azariah says. He puffs out a wisp of smoke that curls around my spot at the table, forming a faint impression of a word.
Later.
“Oh. Well, thanks for checking.”
“Yep.”
I resist the urge to drum my fingers on the table. I don't need to show off my impatience. Instead I nod at the [Pathfinder] and run through the numbers in my head. “How much delay are we looking at? We’re already on the back foot after Halmuth. I’m worried that we’ll run out of funds on the road.”
“Maybe you can refill the coffers here,” Rakesh suggests. He taps the lumpen clay mugs at the table. “Could see about upgrading these, to start.”
Ned drifts back through the room at that moment, carrying a basket of linens. He sets it down on an empty table, grimacing as he stretches out his hip. “Got a problem with my mugs?”
“Never, good innkeeper!” Rakesh says, perhaps a touch too hastily. “But I travel with a company of glass-makers. Perhaps we could interest you in a set of matching glasses?”
Ned shrugs. “Expensive. Break easily.”
“How about one free cup to see what we can do?” Melina suggests. “Perhaps you could point us in the right direction in exchange.”
“Nah, don’t need your bribes. Sailing season’s over. Your guide’s got the right idea. Only way is overland now, unless you can grow fins and flippers.” He grins widely at his last comment and reveals a snaggle-tooth grin, stained yellow-brown.
“Afraid I’m not much of a fish,” Lionel quips, grinning back at Ned. “But I think Mel meant that you could tip us off about potential jobs. Know of anything that needs fixing around town? We can do any glass project. Oh, and steel. Big guy’s a [Blacksmith].”
Ned licks his lips. He fishes around in his pockets, his gnarled fingers trembling until he pulls out a packet, unrolls it, and produces a dark brown, taffy-like little roll that he pops into his mouth. As he chews, his jitters slow down. “I can ask. Probably some windows will blow out during the storm. Happens every year. Usually we ship in replacements. Not cheap. I’m sure the mayor will take you up on that offer.”
“Our thanks,” Melina says. She smiles as kindly as she can. “We’ll have a cup and goblet waiting for you at dinner tonight.”
The innkeeper just nods and picks up his basket again. He shuffles off to the back door, leaning against walls or tables when he can to take the pressure off his hip. The narrow door swings shut behind him with a creak.
“Wish I could do something for his limp,” Lionel says quietly. He shakes his head and lets out a frustrated sigh. “Guess it’s too late, even if my Skills were stronger. The body likes equilibrium, and he’s probably gotten used to this now, so my [Healing Touch] wouldn’t do much other than remove some pain. I can’t really help him, not with how low-leveled my Skills are for my second Class.”
“Have you made progress in your original Class since picking up [Healer]?” I ask Lionel. I’m curious how the Skills scale in terms of mana costs. “Rakesh, I’ll bet you know the answer. Are most Class-related mana costs standardized?”
“Most common Classes, yes. But it’s exceedingly complicated to calculate difficulty and expenditure costs for unusual pairings like Lionel’s. I’ve only come across a few crafters who also picked up healing in any form during my studies, and I can say with confidence that none of them have the adventure and combat experience that Lionel does. We’re in uncharted territory, and it’s incredibly exciting!”
“Glad I could be your pet research project. Wouldn’t want you to get too bored on our trip, seeing as it’s been so uneventful so far,” Lionel teases.
Rakesh chuckles, soft and polite. “Nothing’s ever uneventful around Nuri, that’s for sure. I’m glad you’ve come to peace with being dissected for the sake of my career advancement.”
“Whoa, now you sound like Scalpel,” I say, shuddering. He looks horrified, so I shake my head. “No, no, I’m not worried about you. I know you were just joking. But don’t you think it’s an interesting parallel? The difference is that you and Lionel are working together to move forward our understanding of how magic works. It’s collaborative research. Scalpel just did as she pleased. But the research itself is almost the same. Sometimes the line between right and wrong is stark and obvious, and sometimes it’s a matter of motives.”
“Profound,” Rakesh says, and he sounds like he means it. “I don’t know if there’s always an easy answer, but I do hope that if we’re always honest with each other, we’ll keep ourselves in check.”
“Look at you turning into a philosopher. My shrimpy brother, all grown up,” Mikko says, miming wiping away a tear.
I roll my eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Let’s get some rest and prepare to head over to the mayor’s office once the storm stops.”
“Aren’t you forgetting something?” Melina pipes up. She lifts up a mug, wiggling it around in front of me. “We promised to replace these. Lend us some glass, Nuri?”
“Or I could just transform the mug directly,” I say. “Keep the rustic look, but turn it into glass and let Ava use her Skill to reinforce it. Saves us time.”
“That’s fine,” Avelina says.
She grows silent afterward, not even meeting my eyes when I glance over. I vow that I’ll find a way to help her. I thought she was breaking out of her funk after using fire again to defeat an enemy, but she's back to staring into space. Maybe if I find the right tools for her, then she can help herself. She’s resilient; she just needs time.
“Oh, c’mon! Don’t you miss making cups?” Lionel says. He chuckles at my stricken look.
I shake my head. “Can’t say that I do. Honestly, I do miss making glass animals. I miss creating chandeliers too extravagant to sell in the shop. I miss strange shapes and learning complicated techniques. The rest of it? Nah.”
“Too boring for our budding [Mage],” Melina says, amusement coloring her voice.
“I do wonder if you’ll get an option to re-Class soon,” Rakesh interjects. “You’ve done an exemplary job pushing the boundaries of mana manipulation. With your strong connection to the higher-order concepts, I wouldn’t be surprised if you earn the chance.”
For some reason, that thought makes me melancholy. I scratch my chin, digging my fingers through my thick beard as I consider his words. “Glass is in my blood. No matter how much I pursue magic, it’s an inescapable fact that I’m not complete without an outlet. Knowledge alone isn’t enough for me. I need to create, to express myself artistically.”
“Then let’s start in small ways,” Melina says gently. She gestures, and pebbles levitate out of her pack in a small stream to hover over the table in a circle. “Nuri, if you’ll do the honors? One cup, please.”
A soft smile curves my lips. I draw on the mana of my glass cores, threading it into the rugged Skill structure I created for [Vitrification], and transmute the rocks into glass. A pulse of willpower heats up the glass, and I modulate the temperature until the batch is suitably elastic. Using my finger, wrapped in a protective double-layer of manipulated thermal energy, I stir the glass to set it spinning gently, all while it’s suspended by Melina’s [Object Manipulation].
Ned walks back in with an empty basket just then. His feet stutter to a stop. He stares in wonder and fear as I shape the cup by hand, turning it and forming it like putty while the glass glows with inner light.
“Want a handle?” I ask.
“Y-yes,” he replies unsteadily, his eyes fixed on the magic on display in front of him. “You aren’t gonna burn down my inn or anything, are you?”
“You’re as safe as a newborn nestling in his mother’s arms,” I reply, pulling out a long, elastic cane of glass from the large cup. Bending it over on itself, I adhere it to the side of the cup. It’s more of a big mug, or perhaps a flagon. I imagine it will be popular with [Sailors], if Ned's stories are correct that they can drink their weight in rum.
Or maybe that’s just a stereotype, I chide myself. Somethow, I can’t muster up enough energy to care if it’s not realistic. Caricatures are fun sometimes. Besides, I just wanted to make something that catches my fancy. With a few more spins to smooth out the mouth of the cup, using my flat hand in place of the more typical graphite paddle, I complete the cup.
“Ava? You’re up.”
Our [Flametouched] artisan goes to work, firing up her Skill and strengthening the cup so that it’s stronger than the stone from which the glass was originally created. A faint smile touches her face while she works. Perhaps making something that has no violent purpose, something intended for celebration and good times, is what she needs.
I wisely refrain from mentioning how lethal of a weapon an unbreakable beer mug would be in a bar fight. She doesn’t need that kind of interruption right now.
“Done,” she says a moment later, satisfaction warming her voice more than I’ve heard in a while. “Wow, that was way easier than usual. Adding [Strong as Stone] to something made from stone originally is more effective than on silica-based batches. Write that down, Rakesh! It sounds smart. Plus, I’ll die of embarrassment if Lionel gets more page time in your paper than I do.”
Her chuckle of delight is so genuine that it hurts. I give her an encouraging smile, trying not to overdo it, and nod at Melina. “All right, finish up the annealing so that our host can get on with his day. I think he’s fallen into a trance.”
Ned shakes his head, rousing himself, and rubs his nose sheepishly. “Never seen that before. What’s a bunch of talented folk like you doing way out here?” Then he raises his hands, a look of fear flashing across his eyes. “No, don’t tell me. None of my business.”
“Just passing through,” I say casually, flashing a friendly smile. “Spread the word that we do good work, will you? We need to find passage across the water, and we’re open to trade.”
“Mayor’s your best bet,” Ned reiterates. He rubs his nose again, looking at Mikko. “You’re a [Blacksmith], I hear. Could you spare a few minutes to fix some hinges? Cellar door blew up in the last storm season, and the hinges bent. I haven’t been able to bend them back myself. Been a busy year.”
“My pleasure,” Mikko says. He leaps up from the chair, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Been cooped up way too long. Let’s go!”
“Now?” Ned says, seemingly taken aback by Mikko’s good-natured willingness to jump at the opportunity. “Very well. Come on, then, big fellow.”
“Don’t get into too much trouble without me, Nuri,” Mikko says, saluting me with a wink as he follows our host out the back door and into the driving rain.
“I’d never dream of it,” I call at his retreating back. When the door closes, I turn to the rest of the team and speak in a conspiratorial voice. “All right, I’m going to take a nap. Pretend I got arrested when Mikko returns. He’ll love that prank!”
Lionel groans. “Don’t even joke like that. Knowing you, you’ll find a way to actually get arrested. I give it until about dinner time.”
“Hey! Give me some credit. I haven’t been arrested in weeks, Lio. Weeks!”
“Is this normal?” Orav asks quietly, staring around the table like we’re all crazy. “Because I’m starting to think that I should have stayed in Halmuth.”
“Normal enough,” Azariah grunts. “You get used to it after a while. Not the worst group I ever laid eyes on.”
I turn and stare. “Is that a compliment?”
“Don’t get used to it,” he grumbles.
=+=
Ned has a small collection of books in the main room of the inn: five of them, to be exact. He’s very proud of them, which I understand given the immaculate green covers, gold lettering, and full-page color illustrations within. They’re a set of sea-tales covering the history and mythos of the inland sea. Loch LaMara doesn’t feature as prominently as I expect, but it’s pleasant reading about the other trade cities along the sea. Best of all are the pictures of fantastical creatures.
“This is it!” I say, stabbing my finger down onto the page. “Look at that magnificent snake eating an entire ship.”
“You’re gonna make that?” Lionel says, his distaste evident. “Why not try for birds, like Rakesh? Snakes aren’t exactly suited for quick deployment.”
“I think it’s cute,” Avelina puts in. She peeks over my shoulder, a soft expression on her face as she peers at the page.
“Nuri! You have to make it now,” Mikko says, nudging me from the other side with a sly smile. “Maybe you can give it a fire rune so that Ava can have a matching pet.”
Avelina turns to look at him, her eyes wide and innocent. “Are you calling me a snake, Mikko?”
“With your flames, you’re far more like a dragon than a humble snake,” Mikko says, cracking a smile.
Smooth, brother.
“That’s acceptable,” Avelina says, a slight curve of her lips betraying her pleasure. She’s not quite back to her boisterous self, but it’s nice to see a more laid back interaction take place between them.
I shuffle my feet, caught between leaving to work on the snake and wanting to stay to try to encourage Avelina. Impatience wins out. “All right, well, I’m off to create a snake. Or a dragon. Whatever I can come up with. Just as long as it doesn’t look like the Oletheros, then I’m happy. If I get stuck, maybe I’ll ask you for some sculpting pointers, Ava.”
“Don’t think you need flameworking for this piece,” she replies absently, smiling at Mikko and moving to sit in the seat next to him.
I beat a hasty retreat.
On my way to my room to practice with my newest Skill, Azariah intercepts me. One look at his furrowed brow, and I know it’s not good news.
“Change of plans,” he says without preamble or pleasantries. “Mayor’s no good. Dunno what’s goin on, but my Skill’s warnin me off.”
“Why, because you’re not getting a cut of the proceeds this time?” I ask, though I keep my voice as level as possible. I’m still angry over the stunt he pulled back in Halmuth, but I’m trying to keep an open mind if he has solid advice. Antagonizing him isn’t in my best interest.
“Stop whingin and listen. Funny business goin on around here. Keep yer head down and let me find us a way to Gilead. Ya hear?”
“Oh, yeah, this place is suspicious. You might even say it’s fishy!” I say, snickering at my own bad joke. Eating seafood for two straight meals left an impression, I guess.
Azariah shrouds us in a cloud of smoke. The world instantly feels more muted, even with my Domain running. It’s a neat trick to shroud our words and discussion. “Ain’t the time for jokes and festivities. I mean it, Nuri. Keep yer eyes peeled. Do not trust the mayor.”
Groaning at the thought of another uncomfortable interaction with an authority figure, I nod to show my understanding. “I’ll be on guard. But I’m not going to turn down a commission. We might as well make use of our time here.”
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
“Peh! Can’t say I didn’t warn you,” Azariah mutters. He inhales, drawing all the smoke in the air back toward him, and it funnels into his pipe until it all disappears.
“True enough,” I murmur, hating to give Azariah any credit. “Now, what’s the news you wanted to share later?”
“Got a lead,” Azariah says.
He looks uncomfortable, like something’s eating at him, but I gesture for him to continue. We might as well know what our options are, no matter how bleak. Nothing else has come up, so we may have to resupply and strike out on foot, taking the long way around the inland sea. It’s not ideal, but Azariah says he can get us there in one piece.
“Asked around a bit. Definitely somethin up. Fish people are more than a rumor. Never had a reason to look into it before. Heard some rumors from old [Sailors] at the tavern. Don’t know how much stock to put in em, but my Skill started stirring.”
“That’s great! What’ve you got?” I ask. “I’m anxious to get moving. Not a lot to do here, and all this rain is making me feel gloomy.”
Azariah pauses, swallowing hard. I’ve never seen him look quite so unsettled before. “I dunno if it’s worth it. Might be a load of hogwash.”
“You wouldn’t bring it up if you didn’t think there’s some merit,” I say. “Spit it out. Not like you to let your nerves get the better of you.”
“Apparently, there’s some underwater kingdom hidden deep in the inland sea. Used to do some trade here, generations ago. The [Sailors] claim something happened. Something big. A calamity, though I couldn’t find out much more than that.”
“You think they’re still around? I wonder if they can sail through storms. But how would we even get in touch with them?” I ask, my interest mildly piqued.
“That’s what has me worried,” Aariah says, still tiptoeing around the subject. It’s not like him to hedge, which has me both intrigued and concerned. “Did some diggin. Found out that the underwater traders didn’t sail here. They walked.”
“Across the water?” I say, laughing at the absurdity of the idea. I’m imagining a flotilla of people walking on giant paddles, like snow shoes adapted to the seas.
Azariah gulps. “No. Under the water.”
I pretend to clear out my ear, as though I’ve misheard him, but he gives me a miserable look. “Wait, seriously?”
Azariah waves a hand, and his pipe smoke comes back. It weaves into the shape of a sea shore, and extending from the beaches are tunnels leading out into the waves. “Not happy about it, but yep.”
“Someday you’ll have to show me how that pipe works,” I say. “I could learn a lot from the person who made it.”
Azariah scoffs. “Fat chance. Always diggin into secrets is a good way to get into trouble.”
We stalk off in opposite directions, each appearing equally dissatisfied with our talk. In a way, I suppose that’s the best outcome. “Mutually disgruntled” is probably an optimal scenario for interacting with Azariah.
I make my way to my room and shut the door behind me. Collecting ashes and charred wood from the fireplace gives me time to think and plan out my next steps. If we don’t find a way forward soon, then we’ll be forced to take the grueling overland route around the inland sea. I’m already weeks behind schedule, although I suppose it’s a self-imposed deadline. But the longer we take to fulfill our duties, the longer we delay my real goals: visiting Zephyr to learn what she uncovered about the inheritance, taking the team to Grand Ile to see how Lady Evershed is getting along, and traveling to Naftali with Melina. She deserves happiness after all the sacrifices she’s made on my behalf.
“We’ll figure that out later,” I tell myself. Speaking the words aloud makes it seem more like a promise than a wish. I don’t have a solid plan, but I’m not going to let that deter me. I will pay back my friends for all their support, starting with Avelina and Lionel.
My favorite fire-touched friend needs help. Mental and emotional healing, more than what I can offer. And Lionel will take a giant step forward if we can get him a proper tutor. His Aunt is a kind-hearted lady, but she’s content to work on small projects and keep people healthy. She’s not pursuing the pinnacle of her path, not like Lionel.
Or like me, for that matter.
That reminds me why I’m holed up in my room. Holding the image of the sea serpent in mind, I begin. First, I turn the collected wood and ash into glass for the project. Finding material is always the tricky part out here. I’m looking forward to reaching Gilead, which I’m sure boasts many established studios. In a city that size, I ought to be able to find another master, or maybe multiple, and arrange to push my understanding to the next level.
Even without a Class upgrade on the horizon, I can make small but significant upgrades to my knowledge and techniques. The improvements will add up over time, although the Second Threshold seems far off without fixing my core and channels. I’m not sure if it’s even possible to ascend to the next tier without a working connection to the metaphysical realm.
“Focus, Nuri. Serpent body first, existential crisis later,” I chide myself, both amused and a bit chagrined at how easily I’m sidetracked.
Without an optical star mold to create easy ridges, I’m forced to improvise. Instead of pushing the glass down into the metal shape, I gently squeeze my fingers around the ball of hot glass, grateful that I won’t burn myself while handling it. It’s not as interesting of a texture this way, since I only leave five grooves instead of a dozen or more, but when I elongate the glass, similar to pulling cane, it still has more dimensionality to it than a smooth rod.
I pull on the glass until it’s about as long as my arm, then twist it several times in quick succession and wrap it on an iron fire poker I borrowed from the fireplace. Since I don’t have an actual mandrel, I have to make do with what I can find readily available.
Wrapping the glass gives it the look of a snake coiled around a tree branch, which isn’t quite a match for my inspiration. In the book Ned has, massive sea creatures wrap themselves around sailing ships, but I don’t feel like making a ship to go along with the serpent. Besides, my focus is on making glass animals to rank up my new Skill, not creating the accompanying decorations.
For once, I wish I had a studio setup, so that I could practice dipping a pipe sideways into hot glass and pulling an ultra-fine, gauzy layer of glass up from the batch. Lady Evershed taught me that technique. It’s a slow, delicate process, but it would be a perfect way to create a small set of gossamer wings for my serpent.
Once I finish the coils, I slide the iron poker out of the body of the snake. I’ll shape its head and fangs next, but I want to make sure that I’ve got the proportions right. A quick eye test shows that the body has gotten thicker than I intended, which means I’ll have to enlarge the head to match. That means more glass, which means finding more material that I can transform with [Vitrification]. I grab an unburnt log and sacrifice it to the cause. I won’t need a fire to keep myself warm, anyway.
As proud as I am of my self-made Skill, sometimes I think it would be a lot easier to just buy batches of glass pre-made. Ease of use. That’s what I miss. Access to any tool or material I need, without extra work or worry. I’ll get that in Gilead, assuming we ever make it across the sea during the stormy season.
“No need to complain, Nuri,” I tell myself, muttering aloud in my room at the inn. “You’re doing what you love, surrounded by your favorite people, on an adventure to one of the most famous places in all of Densmore. Cheer up!”
But after Azariah’s cryptic warning, I can’t shake the feeling that everything is primed to go sideways. Azariah was all about meeting the mayor until just recently; whatever changed is enough to throw him off balance.
Regardless, it’s out of my hands, so I get to work on what’s right in front of me: shaping the head and fangs of my glass sea serpent. After a few false starts that see me crushing the hot glass back into a ball, I settle for an impressionistic snout with small teeth. There’s no real texture or detail to its face, but I don’t have the patience right now to be more exacting.
I use a hot join to connect the head and the coiled body, and add small wings about a third of the way down its coils. It’s not my prettiest piece, but it’s not ugly, either, so I’ll take it. I’m sure I can do better once I’ve got access to tools again.
And a working set of hands.
That’s probably why I’m feeling so melancholy. I’m so close to finally restoring what I’ve lost that I can’t bear waiting around. I just want to get it all over with and be whole again. Even if fixing my core and channels is beyond the skill of the Menders, I’m confident that regrowing a limb is well within their purview.
The glass sculpture in my hands starts to cool and solidify. With a startled shout, I heat it back up and tap into my newest Skill, [Glass Animation]. Just like with imbuing, I have a narrow window of time to apply the Skill before the object hardens. For some reason, not even the raw creative power of the universe can impart a change of identity to an object after it’s made. Only during the creation process, before form and function are written in stone, can a fundamental shift take place.
Thankfully, I’ve caught it in time. I guide my borrowed mana into the Skill structure and forge a connection to the glass. Now that I’ve earned a codified Skill, I no longer need to imbue the glass before attempting to create a connection, but it’s still not easy. The mana cost is high, exceeding my former Capacity with the original glass cores, but the mental strain is even more strenuous. Apart from my Domain, I don’t think I’ve ever grappled with such a demanding and persnickety Skill. Not even my Way of the Artisan set was this difficult to use.
As the Skill takes root, a tiny flicker of mana grows within the glass sea serpent. It pulses in a gentle rhythm, akin to a heartbeat. I watch in awe through my mana senses as the serpent lifts its head, wiggles its body, and slithers up my hand and around my arm, settling in place like a vambrace.
Aware that it’s not truly alive, I’m still giddy with excitement. The little animal moved on its own, without a command from me! I’ve only been able to test the Skill twice so far, thanks to our soul-sucking, back-breaking, abyssal march across the Barrens. Previously, the hedgehog was practically inert, only twitching slightly or tilting its head a mere fraction of a degree. I had to manually direct it to shuffle forward, straining to control each limb individually, and that led to an embarrassing face-plant when I tried to show off the Skill in action.
“Right! So what was different this time?” I ask myself, rummaging through my travel pack to find my notebook. Rakesh and Melina would be ashamed if they saw how disorganized I am; their writing implements are never out of arm’s reach. Chuckling at the thought of how much I’d let them down with my sloppy scholarship, I write down everything I just did.
Observations: previous attempts used glass imbued with the concept of life. Maybe my understanding of life is inconclusive or incomplete? Current attempt made use of non-imbued glass, and it worked due to the Skill incorporating the animation component directly. Imbuing with unbreakable will likely succeed, I suspect.
Perhaps I was doubling up previous attempts? My burgeoning understanding of life may have conflicted with the Skill, or resulted in unintended consequences. Will test more thoroughly.
I’ll have to test that theory later, but I nod to myself in satisfaction. This feels right. I have a hunch that I’m on the correct path, not just making things up. Sure, maybe I overlooked some obvious answers, but sometimes the simple solution is the best. I’ll run it by Rakesh later. He’s our best chance at deciphering and analyzing obscure information.
I yawn, strangely tired after my crafting session. It didn’t take me very long, all things considered, and normally I could create a dozen of these animals in a single day, but my newest Skill feels like lifting a heavy weight. The demands on my mental energy are too much for me to maintain for hours on end. Just like my [Arcane Domain], it’s too intense for me. Perhaps it’s a Skill that’s usually earned in the Second Threshold.
Repeated use should improve my tolerance. Perhaps in the future, if the Skill ranks up, I can animate multiple creations in one go. Leveraging my [Greater Heat Manipulation] should let me keep the glass at working temperatures, and thus bypass the world’s restriction on changing an object after it’s complete; I can extend the “creation” phase and imbue them later.
Maybe I can even teach more advanced versions of my little creations to replicate themselves. Then I can be a one-man team, relying on my glass golems for assembly, while I apply the finishing touches and animate the entire batch. As long as I have enough material and mana, I can make liberal use of [Vitrification] and keep the process going indefinitely. And, if I’m able to succeed in embedding pseudo cores in each of my creations, then they can harvest mana for me automatically, returning to top me off any time I run low.
Visions of grandeur flash through my mind, and I struggle to contain my excitement at the prospect of how powerful I’ll become in the future. Even if the Menders can’t fix my internal channels, I have an alternative that will take me as far as I want to go—imagination is my only real limit right now.
“Well, that and money. And time. And Mana. And, well, a lot of things,” I say, laughing at my tendency to get swept away. But those are considerations for the future. For now, I dash out of my room and back downstairs to the main hall in the inn to show off my latest creation.
If Avelina likes it, I intend to make another version to give her as a pet. Maybe she and I can figure out a way to embed a small fire rune in it, so that it can help her with her flamework. It’s not exactly the dedicated help she needs from a [Mind Healer], if those exist, but maybe it will cheer her up anyway.
The whole team is gathered around a dinner table when I arrive. They’re deep in a lively discussion about what we’ll do next, after Gilead. I slip in and take a seat between my brother, who’s sitting next to Avelina and making small talk, and Lionel.
Not bothering to stop and greet me, Lionel is waxing eloquent, grandly explaining that he’s going to take over the entire order of Menders and become their head [Healer] in the next few years, and introduce a revolution of medical knowledge to Densmore.
I elbow him in the ribs when he finally stops to take a drink of rum. “Wow, Lio. I thought I had ambitions, but look at you! Way to dream big.”
“Are you all aiming to become heroes or something?” Orav asks. He’s fiddling with a fork and knife, absently stabbing at his plate of prawns smothered in red sauce, a contemplative look on his face.
“Not all of us. We just like to imagine how high we can ascend if we keep trying. What do you think? I’ve been wondering what your plans are,” Melina says, nodding at Orav.
“Don’t really have one,” he says, shifting in his seat uncomfortably. “I’ve grown up in the Barrens. Always wanted to see what else is out there. I didn’t really think things through.”
“Could guide people with me,” Azariah says. “You’re a natural on the road. Competent. Quiet, too. Beats these chatterboxes.”
My jaw drops open at Azariah’s invitation. “Whoa. Never seen you so sentimental. Are you feeling ill? Lionel, cast [Healing Touch] on our guide!”
Azariah swats Lionel’s hand away, condensing his smoke into a cleaver and giving him a stern look before he lets the smoke dissipate back into nothingness. “Bah! Ya make it sound like I got no friends. I don’t hate the world. Just most of ya.”
“It’s not a bad idea,” Orav says, but there’s some hesitancy making his voice hitch. “Mind if I go all the way to your journey’s end first? I’d like to see a big city for once.”
“They’re just loud and smelly,” I say, grinning. “The Capital wasn’t all it was cracked up to be, let me tell you. Not going back if I can help it.”
Lionel rolls his eyes. “Oh, here we go again. Nuri and his tall tales. First time he told us about his adventures, he was starving and broke, just trying to survive. Next thing you know, he claims he’s best friends with the [Viceroy] and hobnobbing with the leaders of the Royal Army. By the time he tells the story again, he’ll be in line to take the throne or something.”
“Mostly I just did some research and made some glass,” I say as modestly as I can, all the while giving Lionel a significant look. While Orav doesn’t seem particularly dangerous, and I think he’s sincerely just looking to see the world—the only reason I agreed to let him join us—I don’t want to spill all of our secrets.
“Oh, you ‘just made some glass’ out there?” Avelina says, uncharacteristically joining the conversation. “You left home a competent glass-maker, and came back a Master! Totally unfair. I wish I got to learn imbuing in the capital.”
“What does imbuing do, anyway?” Orav asks. He seems nervous. Out of his depth. “You made the greatest weapons I’ve ever seen. Out of glass! I didn’t even know that was possible. I mean, we hear about legendary swords made by Master crafters, but I always thought that they were just stories. Exaggerated, you know? Impossible. But then I saw you turn a melted-down window into a weapon capable of cutting a city-killer.”
“All imbuing means is that I take an idea and merge it with an object, binding them with mana and remaking it on a fundamental level.”
“Oh, is that all?” Melina teases.
I shrug. “More or less, yeah.”
“Is that something I could learn? Or is that only for advanced glass-makers?” Orav asks. “How come your friends can’t do it? They’re really skilled from what I’ve seen.”
“They just need more practice,” I say sternly, gazing around the table in my best Ember impression. “Technically, you could learn the principles without being a crafter, if you don’t want to take a second Class. All you need is to forge a connection with one of the main underlying concepts of creation. Then you build a mana-scaffold, create a bridge for the energy so that it has a place to live, and you’re done.”
“Somehow, that sounds even harder and more complicated than when you explained it the first time,” Orav says, laughing. “I think I’ll stick to tracking down game.”
“Probably for the best. Everyone’s got different strengths and weaknesses. That’s what makes us all so interesting.”
“How far can ya take things?” Azariah asks abruptly. “Can you add any concept? You’ve got some way to copy Skills. Never seen its like, not apart from high-leveled [Enchanters]. If you can make me a compass with my [Pact of the Wayfinder] Skill, then I’ll refund your individual cost of travel.”
“Rakesh? Are we secure?”
Birds flutter out from Rakesh’s notebook, folding themselves and flying to the corners of the room. His eyes twinkle in excitement as we stare with open mouths. “Ranked it up last night. Never got a chance to show you yet. I don’t have to fold them myself.”
He inverts the weave of mana, closing us off from eavesdroppers. “I should have done that as soon as we started talking. Apologies. I’ve grown slack during our time alone. I’ll be on guard again.”
“Thanks. It was my fault for not watching what I let slip earlier,” I say. Rakesh isn’t to blame for my foolishness. “We gotta be careful. Azariah said the mayor might have it out for us for some reason. To answer the question, though: No. I can’t copy Skills. Not exactly. I can only borrow certain runes.”
“That’s why you’re Viewin the Skills,” he muses. “You’re readin how they work, taking em apart, and buildin yer own version.”
“We’re compiling a runic dictionary,” I clarify, although how quickly Azariah sees through my actions makes me uncomfortable. Still, is it giving away information if he already figured it out just by observing? “Bear in mind that just because we add a rune to the dictionary, doesn’t mean that I’m skilled enough to use it. Rakesh and Melina are much more scholarly than I am.”
“But you’re the key,” Azariah insists, fixing me with an intense stare. “They can’t do what you can, even if they understand the theory better.”
All at once, all my fears and suspicions come roaring back. Our guide is prying deeper than before, and I’m not sure I should say anything further. I still don’t trust him.
“Trade ya,” he says, interrupting my spiral. “I’ll show off the scrying mirror again for you to copy, and you make artifacts for me n Orav. He’s gonna need em when we go on the road together. I always look out for my team.”
“I . . . I don’t even know if I’m joining you,” Orav protests, though without much strength of conviction. He seems unsure of himself, even though I doubt he’ll find a better job offer than learning from Azariah.
“Yeah, you do,” Azariah says, letting out an ugly chuff of laughter. “It’s definitely yer best way forward. Hate seein people take the wrong path.”
I send a mental nudge to my sea serpent along the pathway of mana connecting us, and it unravels from my arm, slithering into the center of the table. “Tada!”
Azariah forms a spear of smoke, almost impaling my poor little glass serpent, before he realizes that it’s my Skill at work. His eyes narrow, and he mutters incomprehensibly into his big beard, all the while puffing away on his pipe.
Orav stares in slack-jawed shock. “That’s what you just made? In an hour. By yourself, in a room of an inn. That’s insane!”
“Can I hold it?” Avelina asks, her voice delicate with guarded hope. When I direct the sea serpent closer, she picks it up and coos, cuddling it to her chest like it’s a real, live animal.
I clear my throat. “Mikko suggested making another one for you, with a fire rune so that it can assist alongside you when you’re flameworking. You wanna pick a design?”
Avelina glares at me with a scandalized expression. She clutches the snake closer, and turns her body to shield it from me. “Make another one for yourself. This is mine, Nuri! Just try to take Yuuni away, and I’ll show you what your wand can really do.”
“You named it already?” I burst out. Now it’s my turn to be scandalized. “But that’s mine!”
“Not anymore, she’s not,” Avelina says indignantly. “Yuuni loves me.”
“What! You don’t even have a mana connection with it,” I protest. “I can help you make one that shares your signature. Er, I think. That’s just a theory.”
“Come on, Yuuni,” Avelina says, flouncing away from the table. “These dummies aren’t worthy of your presence.”
Mikko collapses into his seat, letting out a deep belly laugh. “All according to plan, little brother? You have a knack for making things work out.”
I sigh, shaking my head. “Who needs nice things? Not me. At least I can make another one once my mana replenishes.” For a brief moment, I decide to be cheeky, and I reach out with my Skill to make the sea serpent move in Avelina’s arms. Maybe it will pretend to bite her, and I can get some petty revenge.
Nothing happens.
I let out a groan, dropping my head to the table as I realize the problem. “My new Skill takes forever to recharge! Ugh. I didn’t notice while we were in the Barrens, since we were too busy for me to use it again, but I estimate that I’m out for two or three days. Ava owes me.”
“Thanks for helping my sister,” Melina says, wiping away a stray tear as she laughs. “You’re a good friend, Nuri.”
How am I supposed to argue with that? I let out an exasperated sigh, but I’m actually the happiest I’ve been all day. Even if I’ll never get my sea serpent back.