Determination sings in my soul.
With my Domain, I lift the first of a row of boulders I collected from the nearby hills and levitate it in front of the stall. [Artisanal Acuity], [Compositional Analysis], [A Master’s Touch: Thirty Seconds of Greatness], and [Vitrification] work in concert with [A Perfect Prototype] to transform the rock into glass and set a template for the weapon I have in mind.
Activating the Skills in a bundle is growing less cumbersome, but it’s still not second nature for me. I hope to change that soon.
In the meantime, I have a score to settle. Nicanor stole my first spear. My second one will be a gift to him—and an improvement in every way, even though I’m copying the essential shape of the enchanted spear I found in the Labyrinth.
Molten glass swirls in streamers, orbiting around me while I work. Whenever I need to add glass to the project, I simply reach up and pinch off new sections. Convenient. The real reason I do it, though, is that it’s a lot more eye-catching.
Relying on my double-layered [Heat Manipulation] glove is ingrained behavior by now, but it still draws a ripple of excited whispers from the crowd.
Drawing out the tall shaft of the spear takes only a few moments. In a way, it reminds me of pulling cane, a technique used to stretch the hot glass out like strings of toffee. Pulling glass this way creates long, thin rods, perfect for lampwork or glazing. None are thick enough for a spear, not by a long shot.
I solidify the construct with mana as I go for extra strength. The familiar lattice structure snaps into place in an instant, guided by knowledge now instead of trial and error. I’m so much faster than I used to be that it almost doesn’t even seem like the same technique anymore.
Once I’m satisfied with the length, I grab more hot glass and draw it out, pulling to create two more rods. Braiding all three of them together gives the spear shaft more resilience and texture, which should help with a more solid grip.
The leaf-shaped blade gives me pause. I hum to myself, tilting my head and squinting at Nicanor’s spear while I consider the design. Needle-point would be better for stabbing through tough monster hide or plate armor, which is perfect for his finishing move: a massive aerial leap followed by a devastating strike that pins his target to the earth.
I tap my finger on my chin, considering the options, and decide to mimic the shape of his current blade. I’ve noticed that he switches his style to incorporate wide, arcing strokes when he’s fighting a crowd so that he’s free to keep moving, without risking his spear tip getting stuck in the dirt when he needs to parry or block. The elongated triangular point I had in mind isn’t well suited to that tactic.
Hm. The blade will definitely be more challenging to create than the simple handle, but at least I have a direction now that I’m confident will work for him. Better to deal with the minor trade offs than invalidate an entire portion of his repertoire.
The last of the rocks I gathered lift into the air, moved by my willpower and Domain. With a flex of intent, I transmute the rock into glass and spiral it around me, merging it with the rest of the hot glass under the influence of my [Vitrification] to give me more material to work with. As the temperature goes up, the molten glass glows orange-white, making the crowd cheer.
I love my job sometimes.
Smirking at my audience, I grab another handful of glass and spin it theatrically. Slowly, the glass flattens out, creating a traditional rondelle shape for a window or platter. I have a very different application in mind, however.
When I finish each disk I toss it into the sky and set it spinning, where it flings off sparks and tiny bursts of light thanks to the potency of the mana running through the glass. Each one rises to various heights, looping in runic patterns, and for a moment I feel like a [Conductor] in front of an orchestra, commanding all the musicians and instruments to burst into merry song.
Surging my mana, I pulse different wavelengths of energy through the glass, making each one shine and shimmer even brighter—cerulean and viridian, ochre and aubergine.
Soon, every color of the spectrum glitters above me. The light show doesn’t improve the spear, but the gasps of awe from the crowd is worth it. I just can’t help myself.
I pull on my burgeoning understanding of temporal acceleration to bolster the boost from Lionel’s donated Skill [A Master’s Touch]. In the past it may have felt like straining to force a Skill to do more than it was meant to do at its current rank, like shoving a boulder uphill. Now, after my Class upgrade and greater dexterity with magic? It’s like a satisfying stretch in the morning when I first get out of bed and limber up my muscles.
It’s exhilarating to strive, to push myself far beyond my previous limitations. The hard cap of the boost the Skill’s current rank affords, half a minute of greatness, shatters. Time turns malleable, as though it’s a suggestion rather than a hard and fast rule of reality.
Thankfully. I can’t get everything I have planned done that fast. Not yet. And I need to squeeze out every last drop of inspiration and assistance to pull this off.
Once I have twenty-five or thirty colorful disks spinning overhead, ducking and weaving like a flock of birds, I snap my fingers, making the crowd jump. Chuckling to myself, I pluck the spinning glass plates from their journey through the air as each one passes in front of me, and toss them into a stack on the countertop.
Layering them on top of each other, I encase the entire construct with my mana. I slam my open palm down on the stack, like a [Blacksmith] wielding a hammer, and merge the thin glass panes together.
Then I fold the glass over and do it again.
Fold by fold, layer by layer, mana saturates the blade and strengthens it until my [Compositional Analysis] purrs in satisfaction. This will be the strongest, most durable composite I’ve ever made. By the time I’m done shaping the edges of the spearhead, the glass will be the sharpest, too.
I attach the two portions of the spear, hot joining them together. Blade and shaft, shaft and blade, become a cohesive unit.
Foregoing lugs, I simply weld the shaft and blade together, smoothing out the join until the entire weapon appears to be one smooth, elegant piece, as though grown from mana itself rather than fashioned by hand.
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The end result is longer than Nicanor’s current spear, but otherwise keeps the same aesthetic. Double-sided and sturdy, it should hold up to his flexible, explosive fighting style.
And now for the real challenge.
I take a deep breath, steadying myself, and mentally pull up my notes. The last several years of training and research has led to new epiphanies, birthed new insights into the way the world works. Foremost among my theories, which I’m about to test out right now, is the harsh yet liberating realization that I was never going to take the next step as an imbuer until I gained a broader understanding of the world. My limits weren’t magical or technical, but experiential.
Imbuing for me is like painting a picture. I hold an image in mind and invite the mana to rush in and enliven my imagination. Other masters take different approaches. For example, my friend and mentor Melidandri. Composing lyrical, metaphorical mana poems is his style.
For me, though, poetry remains too esoteric to become a vehicle for my work, which is probably why I used to struggle with imbuing disparate concepts into the same piece. Too many images just muddle a painting, or so I thought, while poetry is built on concentrated language and subtext buried under more subtext.
A hint of a smile on my lips, I look out at the crowd, watching the soft, ethereal wisps of significance that connect the people in front of me. I was so blind to those dynamics before, and my art suffered for it.
If I were a portrait artist, my past attempts at imbuing were like sitting in a white-walled, blank studio, faithfully recreating the exact proportions of my model. No wonder I thought only in terms of clarity or accuracy. No longer will I simply create a single picture of a single person;
I’m done painting one picture at a time—an uninspiring, technically correct portrait of one person, a tableau of a singular concept. No, I’m striving to capture it all. I’m ditching the studio and attempting to paint the bustling streets outside, the liveliness of the busker on the corner, the irritation of the old woman who dropped her earring down a drain, the stolidness of ancient walls protecting the citizens, the strictures of laws passed by a long-dead [High Lord] that subtly but inexorably shape the expectations and behaviors of the populace.
All the ephemeral connections.
All the triumphs and failures.
All the complex histories and traditions.
My core drinks in mana greedily, and the entire world around me dims as energy rushes away from everywhere else, diverted into my channels. I am the [Painter], and my canvas is endless.
Challenging myself to press past my imbuing limits, I weave as many concepts as I can at once while keeping the glass hot.
Complexity adds difficulty, but I’ve grown in not only my understanding of magic, but also my breadth of experience. Nuance bleeds into the images I create. Flexibility and specificity are no longer opposite ends of a tug of war, but two sides of the same coin.
Two or three higher order concepts was fairly comfortable for me after my [Glass Mage] upgrade, but any more and I started to flounder from lack of clear mental image. No more. It’s time to break my bonds asunder and add every concept I’ve ever encountered, if I want.
Sharpness is a given, practically a requirement for an edged weapon. Unbreakable will keep the glass spear strong so it won’t shatter on impact, enhancing all the mana-soaking that I’ve already done to strengthen it. Casting my senses back to the memory of violence before it was so insidiously corrupted, I add it to the mix, drawing on my daily sparring matches with Nicanor for inspiration and closer alignment to the man, even though I haven’t fully claimed the concept as my own again.
Authority, the newest axiom I’m meditating on thanks to my upgraded [Arcane Domain] Skill, is a tenuous addition. It’s increasingly a core part of who I am, but my comprehension is shaped by my Domain—which Nicanor lacks. To bridge the gap, I fall back on the sensation of dominance that poured off the Oletheros like an unrelenting wave, and compare it against the [Spear Commander]’s imperious strength as he stood tall against the monsters in the tower, or the insurrectionists in Gilead.
What is authority? For Nicanor, it’s a mantle of responsibility, an ironclad certainty that he stands against evil and will protect the innocent.
That’ll do. All too aware it’s a borrowed image and not my own, I add it to the painting without regret. Shameless theft is a time-honored tradition in art. The magic takes hold anyway, powered by ambient mana rather than the turbulent energy in my own core.
Trembling with the excitement of holding so many concepts in my mind’s eye at once, I grin and reach for one more. Incongruency doesn’t matter to my imbuing any more: everything is part of life by definition, so there are no opposites that can’t coexist.
It’s working! It’s really working!
Exulting in the joy of seeing my theory proven right, I add more to the mix, although the glass is starting to groan under the pressure. Is it strong enough to bear up under the weight of all the concepts I’m pouring into its creation? Maybe I should stop now, before the entire thing shatters and I become a laughingstock in front of those stupid [Merchants].
Greed overwhelms my better judgement, and I call on my oldest Skill and most familiar realm of magic, fire and heat, to add immolation.
Still not enough!
Imbuing so many concepts at once feels a little like trying to write eight different stories backward with pens clutched in between each finger, while balancing on top of a horse keen on bucking me off. Without training so hard to activate my Skills while running and sparring with the powerful [Spear Commander], I’d never have a chance, even if my experience and insight are far deeper and keener than before.
In the past, this would have been impossible. A daunting task, a sure promise of defeat so daunting that I would have given up before even beginning.
Now, I simply relish the challenge.
I’m long past caring about my old limitations. This is a show of strength. I won’t be satisfied unless I give it my all.
Straining with every last shred of willpower I can muster, I activate [Glass Animation] and [Adjuration of the Phoenix], pouring my mana and intent into the spear. Instead of binding it to me, however, I direct the mana threads toward Nicanor, relying on a hasty Viewing to sense the core of his identity and might.
The mana reaches out to him, seeking purchase, and rebounds against an impenetrable wall. For a brief moment I consider how likely he is to kill me if I antagonize him by punching through his defenses, but I chuckle and drop that worry almost immediately; he’s my teacher, and he takes that responsibility seriously. He wouldn’t harm me.
Besides, his dense core space is too robust for me to overcome the difference in our grade. I need to surpass the Second Threshold to have a chance.
Nicanor frowns, staring at me for a few heartbeats as our wills clash. With a curt nod, he lowers his guard, allowing the tendrils of energy to wrap around his inner world. They take root among the fertile ground between his glittering Skills, drinking greedily from his deep well of mana and refined power.
The [Spear Commander]’s eyes grow wide as the working completes and the Skill fully ignites, casting a visible, silvery glow over the crowd. It swells in potency, almost blinding in its radiance, before winking out. Silence reigns across the marketplace.
Nicanor reaches out a hand in the stillness. The spear leaps to him, responding instantly to his desire. More energy flows out from him, and the spear grows half again as long as he sweeps the blade in an artful semi-circle. In the space of a blink, the shaft shortens again, but this time collapses in on itself. The weapon becomes a short spear, almost like a sword, which he thrusts forward in a dozen jabs almost too quick for my eye to follow, before morphing back into its original shape.
Laughing, Nicanor lightly draws the edge of the blade across a small stone left by my stall that I missed when I hit all the others with [Vitrification]. The rock parts before the wicked gleam of the glass edge without any resistance.
I rub my eyes, almost disbelieving the ease of the cut. If I didn’t know that was solid rock, I would have assumed it was an illusory construct made from light magic. He went through it like a kid with dreams of becoming a [Warrior] slashing apart a delicate spider web with a stick.
He coughs into his hand, then breaks into a wide grin. “I guess you can have your old spear back.”
I snort with surprised laughter at Nicanor’s understated joke, but I accept the enchanted spear with good grace. When I found it in the Labyrinth with Tem a few years ago, I thought it was the greatest weapon I’d ever owned. It was a target to shoot for, a far-off goal to pursue, but I never truly thought I’d surpass it. Certainly not this soon.
And I’m not done growing yet.