As soon as we get back to the inn, I stalk room to room, knocking on each door and waking up my team. My friends dutifully shuffle into my room for a private chat, though I detect more than one irritated side-eye from the sleepyheads. Once they’re inside, I slam the door behind them, making them startle fully awake. Words fail me at first, so I settle for pacing back and forth on a narrow track of floor between the bed and the drab wall of the [Hunter]’s Lodge. Seething over Azariah’s betrayal isn’t conducive to coherent thought.
Rakesh takes a long, measured look at my relentless pacing. He clicks his tongue and activates an inversion of his communication Skill, the [Echo of the Songbird]. Hazy, liquid-gold mana billows out, filling the room and surrounding us in a bubble of muffled sound—a trick he’s been practicing incessantly the last few days. Instead of using his Echo to facilitate long-range sound transmission, switching around the manifestation of the Skill has led him to experimenting with stealthy applications.
He nods at me. “Secure, Master Nuri.”
“You missed your calling as a [Bodyguard],” Lionel teases. “I can just see you in armor, strutting around with a wizard’s staff and telling everyone where to stand so they’re out of spell sight lines, and how to act in case of an emergency.”
“That does sound appealing. I’ve never realized how refreshing it is to flex one’s power outside of the classroom,” Rakesh says, a smug smile on his face. “My brief foray into the world of subterfuge and spy-craft has been bracing! In all honesty, I could get used to doing this in a more official capacity.”
“I’m sure you’ll have plenty of chances, given the kind of company we keep,” I say, failing to keep the bitterness out of my voice.
Melina frowns at me thoughtfully. “I can’t help but notice that Azariah’s missing from our meeting. Is that intentional?”
“Very,” I confirm.
“You found out about his exile?” Avelina asks. She seems to come alive briefly, but her eyes soon fade into the same dull, far-away glaze when I shake my head.
“No juicy details, not yet. But he definitely has his own agenda. Thanks to his meddling, we’re stuck here a while longer.” I catch them up on what happened at Totten’s, and it’s to their credit that they accept the change in plans with good grace.
Lionel taps his temple. “Got an idea. Why not raid Totten’s building and melt down all of his windows? He wants us to work quickly, yeah? Let’s see him put some skin in the game and provide us with the raw materials.”
“I’ll gladly do it,” Avelina offers.
When I give her a sharp look, she laughs darkly. “I promise not to burn down too many of their offices while I’m at it.”
“Ava!” her twin admonishes.
“What? Fire is notoriously difficult to control. Accidents happen all the time. Don’t sound so scandalized.”
“Maybe we can take donations from the townspeople,” Mikko suggests. “Totten can build up goodwill if he leads the charge with a few of his windows.”
“That’s . . . clever,” I admit, nodding at my brother. “Good idea. We’ll announce it tonight. But first, get some rest. We’ll need to be at our best if we’re going to power through imbuing that many spears. I wish you were all able to imbue already.”
“You say that like it’s easy,” Melina teases. “But perhaps we can help in other ways. If we melt down the glass and prepare the spear head shapes ahead of time, then you can conserve your mana as much as possible. I’ll keep your cores charged, too.”
“Thanks. Now, let’s get some rest.”
We break for the day, everyone off to their respective rooms. I know I should rest while I can, but I’m pacing again, dead set on planning out my upcoming week. I hate forcing myself to imbue more than twice in a single session, but I’m no stranger to discomfort. I’ll certainly survive three spears before I drain my glass pseudo cores, as long as I maintain perfect efficiency.
“We need a schedule so we maximize the available mana I can use for imbuing,” I murmur to myself as I pace. “If I don’t waste time, and I borrow Melina’s necklace while she refills mine, then I can probably handle the strain of nine spears per day. Assuming, of course, that my own glass cores are ready to go by the time my headache from overloading the first two batches finally fades.”
No margin for error. Bad idea.
“Hateful little voice of reason. Stop ruining my plans,” I mutter, still talking to myself.
Mikko chucks a pillow at me. “Just make more tomorrow. Now shut up and let me rest. I need my beauty sleep.”
He promptly rolls over and goes to sleep—an enviable skill. I can’t stop thinking about the idea of more glass cores. An extra few sets would be a game-changer for me, given my limited Capacity. If I keep the spares with my teammates, then we could swap them throughout a crafting session. In fact, with proper preparation, delaying the imbued spears for a day to focus on creating new cores might put me ahead in the long run. Of course, that only works if I don’t fail an imbuement and waste the glass.
Out of deference to my gently-snoring mountain of a brother, I stop pacing. My thoughts haven’t stopped racing, however. I need to calm myself, to get myself in the right frame of mind if I want to succeed with imbuing new glass cores with a sense of belonging. Setting aside the to do list to meditate on mana and glass isn’t easy, however.
First, I have to meet with the [Hunters] to see what I’ve gotten myself into this time. I’m not sure if Javier will demand I join him. Either he’ll be unwilling to let me out of his sight, or he’ll only want his [Hunters] along for the ride. Next, if all checks out, I’ll turn my focus to creating the new glass pseudo cores. Proper preparation will pay off down the road.
Everything hinges on gathering enough glass from the people of Halmuth. If I have to use [Vitrification] to fill in the gaps, then that will set us back even further in our schedule, and I won’t be able to work on the spears until much later than anticipated. Something tells me that my explanation won’t hold much weight with Javier, and I desperately want to avoid falling prey to the [Binding Contract] enchantment that Totten wields.
It may not be slavery, but it’s a near kin. I understand the necessity of a ruler to drafting people into service when his city is facing a dire threat, but it still doesn’t sit well with me after Scalpel. Magically-enforced contracts are beneficial to a functioning society, as long as each party enters the contract willingly. Domination or one-sided control? I’m not keen on that.
=+=
“How’d we get here?” I ask Melina as we make our way toward the meeting spot near the main gates. “It feels like only yesterday that I was making hedgehogs and flying horses for the kids in Silaraon. Now I’m preparing masterwork weapons and waging war against ancient beasts.”
“Growing up suits you,” Melina declares firmly. “Focus on what’s at hand, Nuri. We’ve all got other things we’d rather do.”
“I’m sorry,” I reply softly. “I know you’d rather head to Naftali. Here I am, dragging you in the opposite direction, and not a single word of complaint. You’re the best, Mel. I’ll try not to be so self-centered.”
“Helping you and Lionel is important.”
“Maybe we can find a way to help Ava, too. I wish I knew what to do for her,” I sigh.
Melina pats my shoulder. “Keep on being a good friend. It’s not going to waste.”
Azariah’s smoke drifts in front of us, interrupting our conversation. The gray wisps glitter in the light of the mana lamps. Wreathed around his body, the smoke twitches and moves as if it’s alive. Mesmerizing as the display is, I remind myself that he can weaponize it at any time.
Passing through the market district during off hours is eerie. Clear of carts and pop-up shops, the streets are surprisingly broad and empty. Azariah stands alone, backlit by a mana lamp, looking bold and deadly through the haze of ash and smoke.
“Fell deeds await us tonight,” Javier says, striding up to join us. Decked out in black and tan light armor and carrying Camryn’s spear, he looks more like a vengeful [Warrior] than a lean desert [Hunter].
“We’re up to the task. Let me introduce my team,” I say, trying to build bridges with the ornery [Principal Hunter]. I don’t love our partnership, but I might as well make the best of it.
Javier shakes his head. “Later. Tonight is for scouting, not slaying. I’ll take Azariah with me. We’ll go alone while you work on weapons.”
“Worried we’ll slow you down?”
“Yes,” Javier answers bluntly.
The competitive side of me balks at staying behind for the initial scout, but it’s better if my time is mine to do as I please. My role is to make things. I’m a Master craftsman, and for once, that’s all I need to be. Others can track a beast and slay it, even if my blood runs hot with the thrill of the hunt.
“Very well. We’ll join you for the final execution. We’re no strangers to killing monsters.”
A flicker of emotion crosses his face. I can’t tell if it’s amusement, distrust, or grudging admiration. Perhaps all three rolled into one.
I turn to Azariah and cross my arms, regarding him for a long moment. “Good hunting. I hope you find the way forward.”
He breathes out smoke. “Always do.”
Mikko places a big hand on my upper arm, holding me back from doing anything rash. I glare at the retreating [Hunter] and [Pathfinder], but I manage to keep my cool. I’m sick of the way people treat me.
I frown, sensing a familiar mana signature nearby. “Camryn? You spying on us?”
“What do you mean?” Camryn asks, peeling away from a nearby shop, where she was hidden in shadow. “We watch everyone in Halmuth. Only way to keep the peace.”
I roll my eyes. “I’m sure that’s it. Listen, we have an idea to speed up making weapons, but we’ll need Totten’s help to organize it.”
“What’s that?” Camryn demands.
If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
“Run a citizen’s glass drive. They can contribute to the hunt by donating vases, cups, or bowls. Perhaps Totten can lead the charge by donating a few windows to show goodwill.”
Camryn taps her finger against her chin. “Not a bad idea. All right. Let’s find Totten. But I’d better get the first spear. Javier stole mine.”
“Highly unfair. Of course I’ll help.”
“You’re not so bad for a [Mage],” Camryn says. “Totten shouldn’t have forced your hand like that.”
“Done now. Let’s go.”
Twenty minutes later, Totten admits the team into his chambers. Clad in a white fur cloak and sporting more rings than seems fashionable, he cuts a picture of opulence.
“I’m surprised to see you,” Totten begins, putting on a stern look. “How goes the project? Here to demand more funds already?”
I bristle at the insult, but a warning glance from Mikko helps steady me. “Hardly. I gave you my word that I’d make the spears. We’ve come up with an idea that might speed things up, but only if you’re willing to make some sacrifices.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Oh?”
“Donate to the cause. Ask the citizens of Halmuth to contribute their glassware. My team will melt it down. Maybe you could offer favors or discounts for the top three donors.”
“Clever, clever,” Totten says, his dour face softening into a pleased grin. “Nothing like competition to get around stingy attitudes. I’ll send out an announcement right away.”
“Perhaps you could give us a few of your windows,” I venture to suggest. “Make it part of the festivities. You’ll look self-sacrificial and flashy—people will follow your lead.”
“Not a bad idea. Politics in your future?” Totten teases me with a wink.
I wrinkle up my nose in disgust. “No thanks. I’d rather lose my other hand in another Rift than debase myself with politics.”
“I’m sure that could be arranged,” Totten replies, all too cheerfully. “Now, I’ve got some planning to do from the sound of things. Why don’t you set up your studio, and I’ll arrange for delivering materials? Get started with what you have. I’ll come through before you know it.”
Anything that gets me out of Totten’s presence is fine by me, so I readily agree. Rakesh and Melina stay behind to hash out details and logistics with Totten, since they’re the best with numbers and contracts. I trust them to prevent Totten from taking further advantage of us.
Half an hour later, [Town Criers] announce the news all throughout Halmuth. I’m relieved that Totten’s throwing his weight behind hosting a city-wide glass drive, but part of me is wary that I’ve overlooked an angle. What’s the catch? Once I gave him the prompt to lead off the festivities with a flashy contribution, he was hooked, though. He seems like he’s perfectly happy to work alongside us. He might look out for his own interests at the expense of all visitors, but I guess predictability is something I can use to my advantage. Everyone wants to look good in the public eye.
People stream in from all over following the announcements. A grandmother hands over a dark blue glass vase that looks newly washed on the inside. I nearly drop it in shock when she tells me that the urn housed her husband’s ashes. Right on her heels, a young boy lifts up a cup with a jolly, red-cheeked face painted on the side. He sniffs, wiping his nose, and tells me that his father died when the Oletheros first attacked.
While I’m still thanking him for his gift, a short man with shaggy hair thrusts a platter and bowl at me. “That’s my great-nephew. Don’t let his sacrifice go to waste. Hear me?”
I nod, overwhelmed by the outpouring of support. The faces blur together, too many for me to remember, but Rakesh is up to the task of noting down names and contributions. He’s a one-man army with a paper and pen, and I’m grateful to have him on our side.
“This the spot for glass?”
A new voice breaks me out of my reverie, and I turn with a grin as I recognize the mana signature. “Yuvaan! Changed your mind on my wares?”
The [Caravan Leader] dips his head. “Here to donate to the cause. I knew the [Caravan Assistant] helping navigate across the Barrens. Renjie. Good kid. I was hoping to hire him.”
“Ah. The caravan that got attacked?” I clarify. When he nods, I offer a sad, sympathetic smile. “I’ll do my best to equip the [Hunters] with good blades. Your glass will sing in vengeance once I’m through with it, I can promise you that.”
“Counting on it,” Yuvaan growls. He glances around and lowers his voice. “Not supposed to say this, but if you’re still selling, I’ll take your sets. Apologies, [Hunter] Irving scared us off. I heard that you’re working exclusively for Totten now—seems like they strong-armed you into a bad deal.”
“They’re yours if you want them. Best we meet up on the road,” I reply quietly, nodding at more citizens of Halmuth who show up to hand over glass.
“It will be done. Now, make room for our gift.”
Yuvaan gestures grandly. A squad of six men trot forward, carrying a massive chest held up by two thick poles on either side. They grip the handles in both hands, taking great pains not to let their cargo tip over as they present it to me and place it on the ground for our inspection.
The two men in the front unlatch the lid, sliding it back so I can see the goods inside. A small mountain of glazed glassware and fancy charms fill the entire chest.
Yuvaan grins wolfishly at Rakesh, who is busy cataloging the extensive list of wares. “I trust that will take the top spot?”
“I think you’re alone at the top,” I say, returning Yuvaan’s grin. “In fact, I think we’ll stop the donations here. This should be more than enough to complete our project.”
The [Caravan Leader] claps his hands together. “Excellent. Then I shall leave you to the task.” His demeanor darkens, and he clenches his fists. “Say hello from Renjie when you slice that misbegotten lizard apart.”
=+=
The melted-down glass is more plentiful than I expected. At first, I feared that whatever old bits of glass the people scavenged up would be too sparse or too low quality for our plan, but when Yuvaan and other caravanners showed up to donate, the collection took off. Hosting a party definitely sparked civic pride in the citizens. When we tally up the final donations, it’s enough materials to make a set of glass cores for each member of our team, with plenty left over for the spears Javier wants. I’ll need to ensure that my friends carry the new pseudo cores far enough apart from each other to avoid a nasty feedback loop or dangerous resonance, but it’s a promising start.
Back at the [Hunter]’s Lodge, Lionel and the Linas divide the glass based on composition and quality. Some of it’s no good, and I wince at the sacrifice from the townspeople. Guilt grips me at asking for so much glass, but after a moment’s consideration, I push away the feeling. Their actions had meaning. They rallied in defense of hearth and home. This isn’t a pointless exercise to them. In fact, I’ll bet that they’d take pride in knowing that we collected excess. It’s a sign of how much they care.
The thought really does count.
The more that I muse over their actions, the more I’m impressed at how much people gave, freely and fiercely. Their anger over a monster attacking their town seems downright personal, and it makes me wonder if I’ve misjudged Totten. He inspires far more loyalty than I thought possible. Maybe the difference is that I’m an outsider, while these people already call Halmuth home.
I set aside distracting thoughts for now. I’ve already given my word that I’m blacklisting Halmuth once I’m a well-established Master. They’ll learn the folly of their ways later. Right now, we’re still allies of convenience.
Sorting complete, Avelina melts down the glass while I arrange the team in a line along the bar for efficiency. We’re borrowing the inn’s slab of imported stone that functions as a long counter at the bar. Thanks to its alchemical treatments, it’ll hold up to the heat of the glass and work fairly well as a makeshift marver.
My friends begin rolling out the rough batches of glass to create unfinished marbles, but I have to finish the process for the mana to take. If I’m not involved in the creation of the final product, then the imbuing invariably fails. I take a deep breath, nodding at the team, and begin moving down the line, shaping and refining the glass on the stone surface while the next row of marbles is in progress.
No need for color injections or applications. I’m not actually making marbles, just large beads to work as a repository for the imbuing. Without my tools, I sheathe my right hand in a double-coated application of my [Greater Heat Manipulation], opting to round out and smooth the glass with my fingers. Molding the hot glass by hand won’t lead to a perfectly uniform finish, like I could achieve if I used tools, but I’m not worried about the aesthetic.
Layer by layer, I build a mana framework for the imbuing. Latticework still forms the base of my inspiration, but the efficiency is a clear tier above what I could achieve when I started. My old scaffolding was like a child’s crude finger-painting compared with my current iteration, which looks more like sleek pictures drawn by an [Image Mage].
My mind drifts back to when I first created my glass cores. Inspired by watching Master Melidandri imbue the air for a split-second, I painted a picture of comfort and belonging in my mind, hoping to convince the mana to take up residence. How it worked when my technique and framework were so tenuous, I’m still not sure, but I hold that alluring image in mind again.
Once more, the energy of the world sings and dances in joy. Mana surges from the world around us, coaxed in by the experience I’m offering. Tidal waves of energy plunge into the glass beads, following the framework I created. Glee and contentment burn in my chest.
Conjuring up an image of home and welcome—of belonging—moves me to tears. Since the rest of my team is working with me, I surreptitiously wipe away the evidence of my emotion with the edge of my sleeve, embarrassed that I’m losing my focus mid-crafting session. There’s plenty of time to laugh and cry later, when we’re out of this mess, but I need to keep on track.
The first set of beads are complete without a hitch. Larger than my old set, each of the glass globes hold a respectable amount of mana. Just like last time, I’ll string them together like a pearl necklace to wear around my neck, tucked under my shirt by my heart.
“I saw it, Nuri!” Avelina says, jumping up and down in excitement. She wipes away a tear from the corner of her eye. “That time, I saw what you were doing, and I don’t even have good mana senses like you or Mel. You gave the mana a home. I never knew glass could do that. You showed the mana how to belong, and now it does. It doesn’t have to be alone.”
Her voice cracks at the end, and she goes stone-still. Her sister steps forward, enfolding Avelina in a tight, trembling embrace.
We’re not so different from glass, I think solemnly. Fragile, delicate, prone to breaking. Whether the outward bonds of friendship or the inward trials of the heart and mind—we crack and shatter so easily.
Unsure of what to say to comfort Avelina, and too embarrassed to admit aloud that I just compared her to glass in my mind, I opt for silence. My heart goes out to my friend all the same. A wellspring of compassion overflows within me. Suddenly gripped by the conviction that I have to do something to show Avelina how much we care for her, I try to project the same image of belonging toward her that I constructed for the mana. Extending a gentle touch of my Domain, I direct my presence to brush up against hers, conveying comfort and peace.
Hushed by a shared sense of reverence, we stand motionless. For a few minutes, the quiet is punctuated only by the sound of Avelina’s sniffles. Abruptly, she pulls back from her twin, offers me a quiet, knowing smile, and reignites her flames, re-heating the glass to working temperature. Studiously focused on the task, she uses her [Flametouch] and a thin rod of glass to create another marble, rolling out the slowly-melting glass rod with a traditional lampwork technique.
Since she goes back to work rolling the glass into small globes, the rest of us take our cue from her and also resume our production line. For a brief moment, the bustle of work feels profane, like an intrusion on her grief, but the longer I work, the more it’s a soothing balm. Glass is familiar. Purposeful. Safe. It’s good for the heart to return to familiar patterns, to find work for our hands. It’s not a cure-all, but it’s a step toward healing.
The rest of the night flies by in a fugue of creativity. We fall into a companionable rhythm. Our heads and hands work in unison. We don’t need to speak or jostle for position. Whenever I need something, my coworker is already there, anticipating the next steps of the process. Each one of us works tirelessly through the session, intent on creating the best art we can.
Thanks to swapping my spent cores for Melina’s full necklace halfway through, I manage to imbue six sets of glass pseudo cores. They’re each a little over three times the capacity of my previous work, which is a double-edged sword. I won’t run out of mana in combat or crafting as quickly, but refilling them after the fact will be a pain. Not only will harvesting enough ambient mana for each set of glass pseudo cores take more than three times as long, but I’ll also have to fill up half a dozen pairs instead of my single set of glass cores.
Still. The tradeoff is well worth it to me. If I rotate through all my cores, assuming that I’m working with my team, then I’ll have roughly twenty times my previous output at my disposal. An irrepressible grin spreads across my face at the thought of wielding concepts directly in combat. No longer will I have to choose between powering my Skills or dumping all my mana into a blast of sharpness. Why didn’t I think of this ages ago?
“That’s a wrap, folks,” I announce as I set the last set of cores down in front of Melina for accelerated annealing. “Great work, everyone! Bring it in. That deserves a group hug.”
I was mostly joking, but my friends mob me, wrapping me up in strong arms. My protests go unheeded, and I finally relax and let them express their love. The beating of so many kindred hearts next to mine fills me with undeniable warmth.
We might not be on schedule. We might have been taken advantage of and tricked. We might have to fight a city-killing monster and brave the Barrens. But none of that matters right now. With friends like these, I’ll take on the whole world.