“A little bigger to match the scale,” I mutter to myself, putting the carved mouthpiece back between my lips and forcing air through the tube to expand the gather of glass. The sheer size of this commission leaps right past ambitious and lands squarely in hubris. The finished piece will look a good deal more gaudy than I find attractive, but money is money, and I don't feel like offending my wealthiest patron.
When I finally delivered the finished Grotto of the [Guardians] to Lord Garman after weeks of hard labor and teamwork with Ember and Mikko, he was so enthusiastic about the moving pieces and tribute to Densmore’s natural beauty that he decided to commission a companion piece for every room. I'm up to my eyeballs in sketches and proposals for waterfalls, canyons, and even the Royal gardens, all made of glass with a base of moving gears to animate the entire scene. Saying that I’m starting to regret my ambitious upsell is an understatement. At least it's good practice for when I one day enter the All-Densmore glass competition.
The pay is staggering, but the work never ends. At least now Mikko and I can afford to move ahead with his passion project: The Iron Lunk. I only hope the combat routines he’s come up with for the automaton will prove worth the hefty investment of time, money, and energy.
And bruises. Can’t forget the bruises if we’re sparring against a metallic martial master.
Completing the work for Lord Garman is bittersweet. I’m back in Silaraon on what's likely to be a semi-permanent basis, and I keep wondering how my friends back in Peliharaon are doing. Bijan needed the promotion more than I did, and Ember was proud of my decision, but I still miss my time there. Maybe I can steal away for a day or two and help Calix finish the fanciful glass menagerie we were working on before the wealthy Lord dazzled us with his offer for commission work. Plus, someone needs to make sure Ifran is learning the basics. He’s a good kid.
Melina sashays over to the bench where I’m working, trying to move in an elegant, dignified manner, but she’s practically skipping in excitement as she waves a small piece of paper in the air. “Nuri! I think I have a lead on the swords. My friend at the Silaraon City Academy, the same [Researcher] in training who found the picture of your father? He’s helping me track down some details for us.”
“Ah, Rakesh, right?” I reply, pleased that I remembered his name. I set the rod on the top of the bench, turning it slowly while we speak and keeping it at working temperature via [Heat Manipulation]. No sense spoiling this work because I feel like chatting.
“You’ve got it. He works with Ezio, one of the premier scholars at the SCA,” she says.
I raise an eyebrow. “And he’s taking the time to look at glass?”
Melina tuts at me. “Masterworks, Nuri. Not any old bit of glass. They’re worth his time.”
“Oh, I see. The swords are worth his time. That sounds discriminatory, Mel. What does he have against cups and bowls and little trinkets?” I ask, feigning innocence.
“Unbelievable,” Melina says, laughing at my expression of faux-outrage. “A minute ago you were surprised he’s looking at glass at all, and now you’re incensed he’s only looking at the fancy stuff. Are you arguing both sides again? No, don’t deny it! You are.”
“I definitely am,” I echo, checking on my project, still rotating the glass as we speak.
Melina sighs wearily. “I don't know why I’m surprised. You always were a rapscallion.”
“Glass really is underrated, though,” I say, completely in earnest this time. “Maybe your friend could write a dissertation about pursuing glass work as a hidden path to power. Whatever he’s found on the swords can go right into his research pile.”
Melina’s melodic laughter washes over me again. “There’s nothing hidden about glass, Nuri. Stop trying to sound so mysterious! Working in this shop is my favorite thing in the world, but it's not exactly profound. Arcane powers aren’t ours for the taking.”
“Peh, just because no one has reached the pinnacle yet by working with glass doesn't mean it can't be done. Go back far enough, and every noble profession or greater Class had a trailblazer once upon a time. Someone had to be first by definition. Same with glass; it's just a more difficult path. So why not us, Mel?”
“You honestly think we'll succeed where all other giants of glass have failed?” Melina asks, her brow furrowing in concentration.
“You’re as talented as they come. What's stopping you?” I cross my arms and level a stare at her, matching her question with a question of my own.
“Don't dodge like that, Nuri. What's your plan to make history? I'm curious; I'm not teasing you.”
“Uncover my father's secrets, for starters. I want to know where he got those swords. How did he progress through the ranks so quickly?”
“Ember might know. But she falls back on her army training when it comes to a fight. Glass only takes her so far.” Melina gives me a half shrug, lifting one shoulder eloquently. “I don't mean to doubt you, but how will you succeed where she hasn't?”
“Because she hasn’t tried. Not truly,” I answer after a moment of deliberation. “She’s content to oversee the shop. She’s an administrator—and a good one—but she’s not suffering from the urge to storm the heights of magic. She doesn’t push the limits of what’s possible like her life depends upon it.”
Melina scrunches her nose, tilts her head to the side, and lapses into contemplative silence. I’d like to imagine that if I squint, I can see the gears turning in her mind, to borrow from Mikko’s favorite phrase about thinking hard. That muscle-head would compare everything to his metalworking. Not like I would ever do the same about glass!
“You may have a point, Nuri,” she concedes, prompting a huge grin from me. From anyone else, her statement would be a bit of nothingness, a boring and non-committal answer to placate me. From her? The admission is tantamount to a declaration of victory. I’ve rarely received such high praise from her.
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Beaming at her tacit approval, I rock back on my heels and clasp my hands behind me; the glass won’t spoil if I take a quick break for a dramatic pose. “So, are you coming along for the journey?”
“My goals are my own,” she replies carefully, likely because she doesn’t want to make me feel bad or alienated. She folds the paper in her deft hands, tucking the creased, square lines of the note into her leather shop apron’s side pocket.
“Sure,” I reply, shrugging. I shift my attention back to the glass, picking it up and shaping it as I continue with my commission work. I know a letdown when I see it coming.
Unexpected fire fills her voice, however. “Perhaps I’ll meet you at the peak, anyway. I’m not content to sit idly by as the world rushes past me. I desire to learn, to know, to explore every concealed crack and forgotten crevice in this grand old world. I will never stop growing, Nuri.” Her normally gentle, kind features harden as she expresses the truth of her existence with unshakeable resolve.
I take a moment to blow into the mouthpiece at the back of the flexible tubing, inflating the glass a little larger to buy myself time before I reply. “I’m impressed, Melina. I didn’t realize you were that committed.” I pull the glass closer, pick up a wooden block with a concave curve cut into it, and turn the ball of glass in the scooped-out bowl of wet wood to make sure it’s perfectly spherical. “Tell me. What’s driving you?”
“Nuri! Don’t you think that’s too personal?” Melina says. Her protest lacks much heat, however, so I keep up the pressure, meeting her gaze while I work and not breaking eye contact. She starts to speak, sputters, and snaps her mouth shut with a click of teeth. A wistful expression crosses over her face as she stares out the nearby window. “I do have an answer to your question, Nuri. I just don’t know if I feel like sharing.”
“Take your time. Some of us have work to do,” I reply lightly, but if she hears my quip, it doesn’t seem to register. She’s lost in her own mind. In the meantime, I turn back to the glass.
An awkward few minutes pass by. Only the sound of my tools twisting and tapping on the hot glass intrudes on the silence between us. Just when I’m about to apologize for putting her on the spot, Melina sighs and slips into the seat next to my workbench. “I have a confession. But you have to keep it to yourself.”
“Promise,” I reply instantly, oddly touched that she’s willing to trust me. Melina is by far the most professional and focused person I know, even surpassing Ember, so I’m both surprised and deeply flattered that she’s willing to bare her soul. Whatever she has to say, I’m taking her seriously enough to put the glass back down and listen, though I still keep the rod turning and use my Skill again to maintain the proper heat.
Melina shifts in her seat to face me. She arranges her leather apron across her lap and smooths out the wrinkles, preparing herself outwardly as she orders her thoughts inwardly. “I want to learn magic. Real magic, not just helpful Skills for working around the shop—something grand and glorious. And as much as I love Silaraon, and my friends and family here, well, I want to travel, to see every region of Densmore, and then to go abroad. Naftali is the closest country, but my real dream is visiting Osaria someday.”
I scratch my chin thoughtfully. “The island? I didn’t know you like sailing.”
“Ha. There’s plenty you don’t know, Nuri,” Melina says, a soft smile on her face. “There’s something wild and majestic about the ocean that calls to me. It’s vast and untamed. Despite all our studies, [Cartographers] and [Scholars] still don’t know its boundaries. Some people find it terrifying, but not me. The sea is undefined and endless, which means there’s still splendor and sublimity in the mysterious unknown. Once the edges are defined, it’s limited, somehow.”
She shivers suddenly, although it’s warm in the hot shop. “I hate the sense of finality that comes with limits. That’s not how I want my life to go. I know, I know, it sounds crazy. I’m always the responsible one! That’s what people expect of me. But you know what, Nuri? Sometimes I want to leave all of this behind me, just walk out of the studio, hitch a ride to the coast on one of the passing trade caravans, and then set sail for uncharted shores.”
“You don’t sound crazy to me,” I assure her. “You want more out of life. I do, too. Glass is my passion, but the medium isn’t as important as the urge to explore. Here’s to discovery and mastery, Mel! We’ll get there.”
“You really believe that,” she murmurs, squinting at me strangely, as though she doesn’t quite believe it herself. “I appreciate that about you. You dream big, but you’re convinced that it’s not out of reach. I want that confidence for myself.”
I shrug. “I guess I never thought of my goals as all that special. Who doesn’t want to make it to the top? I’m not dreaming big; other people just dream small. Promise me that you won’t settle for lesser things, either.”
Melina laughs at that. “Fine! I’ll take that deal. No small dreams for either of us. Then let me keep dreaming. I want to fall in love, get married, raise half a dozen children. We’ll all travel together on a great big boat, sailing along the coastal provinces searching for treasure. They’ll be ocean babies, swimming about and diving deep like fish. I will flat-out refuse to let them take land-lubber Classes. We'll unlock the secrets of magic together, like [Mages] of yore. One day, from the gently-rocking deck of my ship, I’ll watch them claim the skies as their new domain to go along with the sea.
“As the years go by, I’ll watch them fall in love and start families of their own. And when I grow old, I’ll take up glass again, making trinkets and toys for my grandchildren to cherish and inevitably break—and then I'll make them better toys to replace the first ones.” She breaks off, blushing furiously. “If you ever breathe a word of this to anyone, Nuri Shahi, I swear that I’ll seal your lips together with hot glass.”
“I won’t tell a soul, Mel. I swear!” I hasten to promise. I grin at the picture of her future she’s painting, and wink. “Although, I’ll bet your sister would find it extremely interesting.”
Melina groans, putting her head in her hands. “Stop it! You especially can’t tell Avelina. What a mortifying thought. I think I’d die of shame.”
I chuckle. “Don’t worry. Your secret’s safe with me. Why did you come find me, anyway? I’m sure it wasn’t so I could tease you about sailing the seas. Which I won’t do, because I said I wouldn’t make fun of you.”
“Technically, you only promised not to tell anyone. Teasing is still an option, since I didn’t remember to make ‘no teasing’ part of the requirements to hear my silly ideas,” Melina says, shaking her head and chuckling in self-deprecation.
“Don’t worry. I’ll only tease you a little bit,” I say, my grin widening. Melina is a good sort, but she takes herself too seriously sometimes.
“You’re incorrigible, Nuri,” Melina says, rolling her eyes at me. She withdraws the folded paper from her well-worn apron. Her long, delicate fingers close about the note, twisting the fresh, crisp parchment as she glances at me shyly. “Still, I suppose you deserve a bit of good news. I came to give you an update on Rakesh’s progress.”
Exhilaration and longing ripple through me, so electric that my fingertips tingle. I brighten and reach for the note, but she pulls it away at the last second. I raise my eyebrows in question, and she nods toward the glass. I’ve let it go still. With a muttered curse about shattered glass, I keep turning the metal rod, reheating the glass and restoring its intended shape.
Melina unfolds the note, pressing it flat on the bench next to her, and clears her throat. “Keep working. I’ll read it to you. Don’t get your hopes up just yet, Nuri. Rakesh said he’s got a long way to go. We don’t have actionable information yet, but it looks like he’s found a lead.”
I redouble my efforts with the glass while I listen to Melina read Rakesh’s note aloud. Her voice grows feverish with excitement, and I hurry to finish up my work so that we can shift our attention to the mystery of the Master who crafted my father’s glass swords. We’ll put our heads together and plan for the pursuit of greatness.
Adventure calls, and one day, we’ll answer. We might be glass-makers by trade, but right now we’re forging dreams.