A week later, the [Inquisitors] have cleaned up most of the insurrectionists. The list of names I’d received from now-imprisoned [Lady] Saphora is largely reliable, and the courts are busy processing the cases. Ships come and go freely in the harbor. Business is booming at the Orpheus, with more orders than they can fulfill, including numerous requests for custom work from me; among those in the know in Gilead, my role in the [Inquisitors]’ operation is far from a secret.
The average citizen is no longer scurrying around in fear of surprise attacks. The city is finally getting back to normal.
Lionel . . . isn’t.
“Wanna go to the beach? Mikko and Avelina are having a picnic. They invited us to join them,” I tell Lionel. My offer seems to fall on deaf ears. My friend doesn’t even look up.
He’s been holed up at the Menders campus since we captured [Lady] Saphora, helping with healing the worst cases deemed beyond help. The [Headmistress] was loath to trust him at first, and her bodyguards were ready and willing to fight off a full contingent of the Royal Army by themselves to maintain autonomy, but Mender Uttara vouched for him. After a demonstration of his incredible [Runic Restoration], as well as our upgraded version of the Azure Rod, which spreads out the vitality draw, the [Headmistress]'s bodyguard, Talagrand, welcomed him with open arms.
None of that matters right now. Lionel hunches his shoulders, staring out a window and not replying to my question. He’s leaning against the windowsill in the private chambers that the [Headmistress] granted him while he works at the Menders’ sprawling campus, overlooking her well-curated gardens.
The array of flowers forms a vague symbol of a rune, intended to be soothing and gently restorative. While I’m not sure how strong an effect it actually has, Lionel seems to find it helpful. He doesn’t leave the room unless he’s assisting with one of the healing sessions, and he claims that his outlook is slowly improving.
I clear my throat and try again. “I’ve been thinking of making a boat so we can explore the harbor. Mikko put me up to it. Says glass can’t float because it’s too dense. I’m gonna prove him wrong, and then refuse to let him take Avelina on trips in it until he agrees to announce to the entire team that I’m the better brother.”
“Sounds like a good project. Maybe you’ll see some fish underfoot,” Lionel says. He still doesn’t look away from the window, but it’s the most I’ve gotten from him in a while. Despite my best assurances that Saphora will never bother him again, he doesn’t seem to believe me.
“Maybe. I’ll probably start by transmuting a toy boat into glass, then scaling up. Anything I should avoid?”
He shrugs one shoulder. “Don’t really know boat design. Hope it works out.”
Keeping my voice light, I ask, “Come boating with us once it’s done?”
“Sure.”
I pat him awkwardly on the shoulder and withdraw from the room. As I walk through the Menders facilities, I catch fearful looks and overhear snatches of whispered comments. Most of the general workers weren’t privy to the reasoning behind either my banishment or my return, so my presence inspires numerous rumors.
I ignore the stares, too worried about Lionel to pay attention. For some reason, I thought that he’d be completely recovered. He was so cheerful when he came to restore my hand, just like his old self. Nothing could shake him. Watching my friend fall back into fear and anxiety is tearing me apart inside.
Maybe Avelina can help. She dealt with a lot after Mackaiaraon, but she seems to be on the road to recovery. I don’t think there was any magic formula. She went through her ups and downs, and thankfully pulled through after a few months. Not everyone does, so I’m not going to take for granted that Lionel will bounce back. We’re here for him, though.
On reflex, I check the paper bird Rakesh gave me that’s paired to my [Inquisitor] friends. We’ve been in constant touch throughout the week as they track down conspirators, work out deals for scrying sensors with the Orpheus, and revamp the leadership structure of Gilead. No new updates. They haven’t requested my presence today.
“Mbukhe, find anything interesting?”
“Still no,” Mbukhe’s perpetually-amused voice replies. “We already cleared your list. It’s time for some rest.”
“Thanks. Catch you tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow, Nuri,” he agrees.
I pick up the pace, heading for the harbor. I’ll meet them and Rakesh tomorrow to help rebuild the library, but it’s not exactly a priority compared with the rest of the city. For now, we’re all taking a day off to rest up and calm our frazzled nerves.
Considering I’m glaring suspiciously at the people I pass on the streets, a break is long overdue. We haven’t experienced peace and quiet in months.
“Hey, it’s my tiny brother!” Mikko yells from the pier just as I reach the quay. His booming voice carries across the water, causing strangers to turn and look.
“Thanks, bro,” I mutter under my breath.
A few of the dock workers seem to recognize me from the constant scrying images that Ozana is broadcasting as advertisements for the Orpheus. Their eyes go wide, and one even approaches to ask for a masterwork. I tell him to put in an order like everyone else, but decide to reward his courage and offer him an employee discount.
I extricate myself from the workers and continue onward, meeting up with my brother at the edge of the wharf. “Got any toy boats?”
He nods eagerly. “Took you long enough to agree to make a boat. I still think you’re just stalling because you know it won’t float.”
I punch my brother on the shoulder, though that’s a risky proposition. Hitting him usually hurts me more than it hurts him. “Nah. It’ll float. Your suggestions are always excellent. The Iron Lunk pushed my combat skills forward, and so will this new challenge. But what are you gonna do with a boat?”
“There’s a little island out in the bay. I thought I’d take Ava out there for lunch. But oh no, you couldn’t possibly help out.” Mikko scowls.
I laugh, hanging on to Mikko’s shoulder for balance. Once I catch my breath, I shake my head at him. “That’s what this is about? Fine. I’ll get right on it.”
The three of us sit on the edge of the nearest dock, kicking our legs over the edge and teasing each other while we work on the little boats Mikko found. The first two sink after I use [Vitrification] on them, setting Mikko off laughing each time.
I frown, trying to puzzle out why it’s not working. Finally, I notice all three of the boats he procured share narrow hulls, so I hold off trying to transform the last one. “Give this boat to a kid. Get me a simple barge instead. Something broad and simple.”
Avelina nudges Mikko with her elbow and points to a nearby pile of empty packing crates stacked up haphazardly. “What about using one of those?”
“Brilliant! Thanks.” I leap up and grab a box, checking to make sure it doesn’t have any holes or gaps between the thin wooden planks. I bring it down to the edge of the water, run [Vitrification] through it, and place the glass crate on the gentle waves.
“It floats!” Mikko shouts, grabbing Avelina’s hand in and jumping up and down. “Never a doubt in my mind.”
=+=
After dropping off the two lovebirds on a small island for a picnic lunch, I enjoy rowing my new glass boat across the harbor. It took a few tries to scale up the design, and it looks ungainly, but the boat floats. That’s all that matters. Using both hands to work the oars feels exhilarating, too, even though the hard work makes my muscles burn.
Mikko and Avelina are surprisingly cute. Avelina is growing more confident and happier by the day, flourishing as she receives counsel and mental healing from a specialized branch of the Menders. Her budding romance with Mikko also seems to help. Melina, by contrast, is more withdrawn and pensive lately. I think her long separation from Padouk is wearing on her more than she likes to let on, and she’s struggling with celebrating her sister’s happiness.
Or, at least, that’s my analysis. I’m not an expert by any means. Still, it makes me worry that both Melina and Lionel are having such a difficult time adjusting to our new situation. It’s high time we put aside constant danger and intrigue, if that’s even possible. I owe Melina a visit to Naftali, and chances are that I’ll get pulled into more international politics and schemes.
I pull in the oars, drifting on the water and looking for fish through the translucent bottom of the boat. Who knows what the future holds? Regardless of whether we go back to our old lives as crafters, or we go on more missions for the [Inquisitors], we need to get stronger. We’ve gotten a taste of what’s possible, and I don’t think any of us are willing any longer to settle for mediocrity.
Everyone’s been working hard to improve their grade and rank up their Skills. Avelina is making more and more intricate pieces of unique art, which are selling for a premium thanks to her take on aesthetics. Mikko is improving much faster than I’ve ever seen before. Working in a modern, automated smithy with streamlined processes is drastically different compared with his previous experience in Silaraon, but the exposure to their enchanting techniques is invaluable. Even if he doesn’t pick up an [Enchanter] Class, I expect he’ll evolve his current [Blacksmith] Class soon. He’s been learning the basics of inscribing a Skill or stand-alone spell into his wares, and I’m surprised at how many similarities it shares to my process. Enchanting isn’t as sought-after as imbuing, but I have a plan to merge the two well-known schools together.
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
I can sense an expansion in his core space as he passes into the middle stages of his current Threshold. Sometimes the sheer sensitivity of my [Arcane Domain] is nerve wracking now that I’ve incorporated elements of [Mage] into my Class, but I’m learning to filter out the information as I practice. Examining other people’s levels of mana development is excellent practice, even if it feels strangely intrusive.
I shrug. There’s too much at stake for me to worry about personal hang ups, so I plan to keep up the practice.
I glance up at the gleaming cityscape of Gilead while I review my notes. I need to find a way to push myself to new heights. I might start by creating animated, rotating rings of paddles on either side of the boat. Then I can maneuver around with mana, directing the boat only by my will. With a mere thought, I’ll be able to spin around, find a new course, and zip off.
Re-orienting the small boat toward an uninhabited island of dark rocks and a few gnarled trees, I haul on the oars and skim across the water toward the island. I want to practice a few of my Skills away from the scrying orbs.
Traveling across the harbor makes me grateful that the area is so well sheltered from the storms. Gilead is a bubble of calm thanks to some incredible wind and weather magic that I still haven’t deciphered. Ozana claims it’s the work of an artifact built centuries ago, but she’s never seen it. None of us are authorized to access the city’s key infrastructure, but maybe Casella can get me access.
I run up against the rocky shores, hop out, and pull the boat up past the line of seaweed and driftwood that marks high tide. I don’t want to get stranded out here. I look for a smooth rock and plop down.
Flipping through the pages of my notebook, I find the first blank page and write a list of day to day drills that I believe will help me rank up my Skills. I have an unbelievable amount of mana Capacity available now that my metaphysical wounds are healed, but it’s more complex to work on them than I anticipated. Simply raising shelters around the city isn’t feasible. I tried to convince Ozana to sell my services, but my current rank of [Sanctuary of Glass] is too limited for rapid deployment. Unfortunately, the high-rollers who can afford to enchant their palaces like an impenetrable vault don’t find much utility in glass, although a few have hired my services purely for the prestige of working with me. I’ve become a minor celebrity since the failed coup.
Ozana just doesn’t know how to price the service properly to prevent a market collapse, I think uncharitably. She’s intimidated by how quickly my team can churn out imbued glass items, especially now that Melina has broken through and become an official Master. Working with me, she’s been able to guide the imbuing process, but she hasn’t been successful solo yet. It’s only a matter of time, however, and she’s able to use the same technique to inscribe runic arrays, so it counts in my book.
I push the thoughts aside, chiding myself for losing focus so easily. There’s no one else around on the island, so I find myself talking aloud. “List everything out, Nuri. You’ve been too helter-skelter with your plans. Ranking up requires more specific dedication than just hard work. Otherwise, why would Lady Evershed get stuck in a bottleneck? She’s way stronger than you are, but the Second Threshold eluded her for years. Wonder if she’s broken through by now.”
I’ll have to visit her when we’re done with everything in Gilead. Perhaps the team can be persuaded to come with me after we return home to our families. In the meantime, I’ll write out each Skill and figure out my path forward.
[Greater Heat Manipulation]
No need to push it forward. Already robust, versatile, and my most-practiced Skill. It’s the current standard. If all my Skills were at this level, I’d probably be able to reach the Second Threshold immediately. That still feels ridiculous to write or even think. For normal amounts of mana use, that should still be a decade away, or more. But will my understanding of energy and thermal behavior be enough to push me forward?
I suspect I’m missing something vital.
[Vitrification]
Built from the bones of several rare and powerful Skills. High quality, but uneven. Could be a candidate for rebuilding, perhaps with the help of [Legacy of the Scalpel]? Upgrading the runic arrays to take advantage of my improved understanding of how runes work will probably let me push the Skill up another rank in quality, and will open the way forward for more powerful transmutations. Combining it with my Domain might be how to get around the range restrictions, which means I should practice distributed casting through my glass creatures. Difficult to use in combination, but practice might pay off.
Should more rigorously test whether certain base materials are more resistant to change than others. Rocks with silica flecks break down and transmute to glass easily. What about an iron ingot? A precious gemstone? The air itself?
[Arcane Domain: My Eyes Shall Pierce the Veil]
Capable of far more than I’m doing with it. Too bad Azariah already departed. I’d like to get away from relying on the scrying sensors I borrowed from the Orpheus. They’re expensive and limited. Copying his scrying magic would have been much easier if I still had the template in front of me. (Need to send him an apology, too. His exile wasn’t criminal; he’s just too brusque for his own good.)
Need to further explore the possibility and implications of impacting the physical world through forcible use of my Domain now that I have enough mana to fuel the Skill properly. With some prompting from Mbukhe, I started testing the limits of my Domain back in Mackaiaraon. A single flex of my willpower could stop a man in his tracks, or fling away all the dust and dirt in the air so that I can breathe in a pristine lungful, but it took most of my limited Capacity back then. Now I can easily levitate glass while I work, and Mbukhe has some drills for me to keep advancing in power and control.
I have no delusions that that’s the extent of my abilities. Further testing required; might be able to exceed what Lady Evershed and Melina are capable of through manipulation of objects via my Domain as a starting point, but move on to combat applications once we’re in a target-rich environment. That may mean leaving the city, however.
[Glass Animation]
This is a tricky one. On the surface of it, I’ve gotten in good practice by creating glass animals for my teammates. I’ve even sold some lesser versions in the Orpheus house. Yet I can’t help but think that I’m not pushing the bond far enough—there’s only limited intelligence or self-direction in my creations. Small, repeatable movements or some semblance of locomotion is fine, but even my discarded plans for a glass hand replacement weren’t as ambitious as they could have been. Next iterations need to push the boundary of what “animation” really means.
Explore creating a true golem? The next step for my strange Skill has to be imparting some sense of autonomy or functional intelligence into the creation. Mana creates a bond that didn’t exist before. I don’t think merely moving glass is the upper limit of what [Glass Animation] can do, as I discovered in the Rift when I heard that crazy witch’s inner thoughts. Revolting!
Perhaps making a larger creation and requiring a more complex response from it will push the Skill forward in meaningful ways. But how to program behavior without enchanting? Unclear. May require research. Ozana may know how to go about finding a [Golemancer].
[Sanctuary of Glass]
Least clear of all. Unless I make a habit of visiting wild Rifts and draining the core dry to power new structures and using Sanctuary to rebuild them into an architected variety, there’s no real way to rank up this Skill. Tiny shelters are exhausting, mana-intensive, and don’t challenge the Skill the way that my pillar and dome in Natan did when using the Oletheros core.
[Greater Endurance]
Already high-ranking. Mikko is nothing if not a hard worker.
[Adjuration of the Phoenix]
How am I going to raise this any higher? Creating an army of glass phoenixes seems like an option, but I’m not sure how efficient it will be. I’ve already made a ton without any real signs of progress. I think the key is finding out how to create and manipulate mana bonds across a vast distance. My golems are good practice.
I stretch, looking up from my list and groaning as I realize the sun has trekked halfway across the sky. Just going through a partial list of my Skills takes hours; I need to go back to the other island and pick up my brother and Avelina.
As I row back to where I left them, I list off my other Skills mentally:
[Artisanal Acuity]
[Compositional Analysis]
[A Perfect Prototype]
[A Master’s Touch: Thirty Seconds of Greatness]
[Fault Finder]
[Quick Cool]
[Lesser Resistance: Mental Strain]
[Legacy of the Scalpel]
I chuckle weakly. How far I’ve come since my early days with only a single Skill to my name—and a lesser variety, at that! My muscles strain, and I cut through the waves, reveling in the sensation of mana strengthening my body. I’ve reached heights I never thought possible before, but I know I haven’t reached my peak. There’s a long way to go, and I can’t wait to find new paths to tread in the pursuit of greatness.
“Unfortunately, there’s no beating the clock,” I grunt as I heave on the oars. “There’s no way I can rank up so many Skills.”
Taking stock of the structures in my soul has led me to an inevitable conclusion: I have too many Skills to properly rank up. There’s no way for me to maintain equal pressure and pursue the Second Threshold within the next several years if my efforts are divided between so many disparate parts.
Saying that aloud is both discouraging and liberating. If it’s a race against time, then I’m better off melting a few of them down into raw runes and recombining them into a single, more powerful Skill. If I can incorporate our growing knowledge of runic arrays, then there’s a good chance that I can even recover the Skill I miss the most: [The Eternal Glass Forge].
While the thought of never earning more [Way of the Artisan] Skills is painful, I need to get back on the path of a Creator. Summoning glass is more reliable than just finding things to use as fuel for [Vitrification]. Besides, I’ve shifted [Vitrification] into more of a combat-oriented finishing move, and I’d rather rely on something else for my day-to-day glass needs.
With [Legacy of the Scalpel], I have all the tools I need at my disposal.
Still, the thought of using that Skill makes me uneasy. Her specter looms over me when I consider Skill surgery or experimentation, and it’s deeply unsettling.
I check over my shoulder, making sure I’m on the right heading, though it’s more out of habit than need; my Domain keeps me informed of everything around me in a massive sphere in all directions, and I know I’m about to rendezvous with my brother soon.
And when I do, I’ll need to ask some hard questions about how I put their donated Skills to use. That makes me squirm in my seat. As much as I want to honor my team’s gifts, the only practical conclusion is the one I like the least: I need to either eliminate Skills, or consolidate the raw material into a few super-structures. What will they think if I get rid of part of their souls that they donated to me?
I swallow hard, not looking forward to that conversation. Less emotionally, I’m wary of putting myself in an unbalanced state again, so consolidation is the only real path forward. Even with the strange new Skill [Legacy of the Scalpel], I’m nervous at the thought of rearranging and combining so many skills.
What if I destroy a Skill?
What if the new Skills are no good?
What if I damage myself?
I tilt my head side to side, cracking my neck, and tell myself to kindly shut up. Doubts have assailed me at every turn on my journey, but giving in to them has never done me a lick of good. Far better to forge ahead with determination and an undimmed spirit.
We might fail ninety-nine times, who knows if the hundredth attempt might lead to our greatest success yet. That promise is enough to keep going. I’ll talk with my team, figure out a plan, and keep getting stronger. The future is in our grasp. I simply have to reach out and seize it—with both hands, I tell myself with a smile