Shaping Glass: When Blood Freezes
By: Mike White
Copyright 2016 Mike White
Cover image “The Promise of Possibility” by Kate Ter Haar under CC 2.0
Tal the Cold was sitting at his table in the small cottage he had recently purchased when three men came in the back door, probably to kill him. His title was mostly a joke, courtesy of his charming older brother who knew he had little talent with Shaping. When he had last seen his older brother, Razius, Tal could only make small puddles of water a little colder. His brother thought that was endlessly amusing. It’s not like the almighty King of Elwar was good at shaping with either. No one was. Tal hadn’t given anyone that chance.
It had taken a while, but today, Tal was a Shaper, this time without any doubts attached. He was also an outcast Elwarii prince with a large price on his head. Mostly due to the two small items he was currently holding in his lap, covered with a small blue cloth. The Shaping Glass and the Blue Ice. These were mementos Tal had liberated from his brother’s possession about a year ago: which was another way of saying he had grabbed them and then ran like hell.
Every time more mercenaries came upon Tal, he knew he’d have to kill again. He hated it, every time. He tried to remind himself of the good of it, of all the people who had died horribly before he had stolen the Glass. But it never made it easier. Tal didn’t think it ever really excused it. So, all he could do was push it out of his mind and put on the swaggering façade that so angered mercenaries.
That is why he didn’t move an inch from his position behind the dinner table when the three men burst in the door at the other side of the small cottage. His blood-brother however, immediately stood up and turned to face the newcomers. He crossed his arms so they went deep into the folds of his cloak. Carmine wasn’t really Tal’s brother by relation, but rather his bodyguard from back when Tal was a prince. It was just easier to pass off as brothers. Plus, they had gone through so much together in the past year that their bond of brotherhood felt stronger than any blood relation ever could be anyway. This was good, since Tal’s actual familial brother was something of a jerk.
Carmine held himself with a grace that belied his larger build. He had platinum blonde hair, cut short in the military style of the Elwarii Guard. He wore a deep crimson-colored cloak around his broad shoulders, clasped with the golden hawk the Guard favored as a symbol. He balanced lightly on his toes, knees bent and center of gravity low, with the balls of his feet raised slightly off the ground. His eyes darted from one of the three figures to the next, as if reading some hidden significance from just how they carried themselves.
He glanced backwards at Tal, checking to see what he wanted to do. Tal held up a hand, which meant for him to wait at the ready for now. Carmine nodded and turned his attention back to the mercenaries at the door.
Even as he held up his hand to suggest that his blood-brother relax, Tal himself looked up towards his guests in good-natured surprise. But he also began doing something with the small glass orb under the table. He uncovered it and began working with the clay inside. He decided to let his mouth do the distracting, keeping his adversaries off-balance even from the beginning.
But before he could, a voice emanated from the group.
“The tall one in the gray cloak with the scraggly beard.” The voice said before Tal could even clearly register faces.
“The one that looks like a fox died on his face. He’s most likely to have the items. But he could’ve hidden them. If it comes to it, eliminate the bodyguard, but keep that one alive. However- don’t move until I tell you.”
Tal sniffed, stroking his small red goatee. Facial hair: one of the very few benefits of being a fugitive. A prince was supposed to be clean-shaven. Tal regarded his reflection in the finely polished wooden table. A dead fox? That was hardly fair. His little beard tried so hard. He took note of the leader’s cockiness though, and formed a plan.
This time, Tal thought, a nice lecture would do the job well. That leader was clearly sure of himself, and nothing put a cocky mercenary off his game more than a nice demeaning lecture. They tended to take it personally when strangers, especially strangers their supposed to kill, think they know more than them about killing them. They get angry.
Angry mercenaries make mistakes.
“There are two types of thinking.” Tal began, even before the three dangerous looking men had moved three steps in the front door.
The one in the lead was tall and willowy with wild dark hair. He also seemed to have a permanent sarcastic grin on his face, in the shape of a ground watermelon rind. Tal guessed that the voice he had just heard was his. The one behind him on the right was bald and stupid looking, with a scar on his face and a large axe on his shoulder. The third, behind the leader on the left, was covered by a deep cowl and a dark cloak so that Tal could see little of his face.
All three had stopped just inside the doorway when Tal’s blood-brother stood up. The dark haired man in the lead raised one eyebrow when Tal began talking.
“You see, each type of thinking is good for something different. Each is essential in its own way,” Tal continued. The brute on the right with the axe hefted it, as if to make a move, but the lead mercenary put a hand on his shoulder. This made the man sigh impatiently.
“Fascinating. Really.” The grinning leader said. He had a crossbow on his back and a small scabbard on his hip. His voice was snide, arrogant.
“But you know what would be a lot more entertaining?”
Tal cut him off and kept talking as if he hadn’t heard him. All the while his hands were moving, moving; invisible beneath the table.
“The first type of thinking is long thinking. Planning. The type that Shapers and scholars and scientists have. It is also the skill of priests and tacticians. It is the kind that involves intricate and deep thinking but takes time to do. ” Tal smiled to himself as he said this, thinking about the irony of him saying that deep thinking takes time while all the while carefully thinking over the situation and taking the time he needed to Shape with the Glass he held under the table. He had to represent every important aspect of the room with the clay inside the Glass, then use the Blue Ice to affect the water in the room. It was times like these that Tal really wished he had more than just one of the Shaping relics. With only Blue Ice, his options were limited.
The brute with the axe was practically frothing with bile now.
“Yeah?” He said, real anger in his voice.
“I got your tactics right here!” He took a step forward and raised his axe. He also pronounced the word “tactics” as if there were a great deal of taffy in his mouth. He obviously wasn’t familiar with the joys of multiple syllables. Tal would point out as much, but he already had a good thing going.
Carmine tensed, his body coiling in readiness, but the dark-haired leader grabbed his compatriot’s axe and lodged it in the side of the cabin, splitting the wood with a loud crack.
“Forgive my companion’s hastiness.” The man said, the snide cheer in his voice practically visible as slimy ooze. “But I appreciate his sentiment, in any case. Let’s cut the crap. Give us the Shaping Glass and the Blue Ice. None of us are eager to die here. But if you don’t hand it over, I promise- we will kill you for it.”
Tal nodded to himself. This leader had patience, but not a lot. He stopped his companion from starting a fight before it was clearly necessary, but in such a way that prevented him from helping should one break out. From the way he was acting, Tal surmised that the man thought he could easily win such a fight, but was worried about possible injury to himself if it happened.
He wasn’t an idiot, but he wasn’t smart either
. He was trying to intimidate first.
Tal smiled to himself inwardly. It wouldn’t work. And it also indicated that this guy’s information on who he was fighting was bad. If the man knew about had the Glass, but was willing to talk instead of just using force right away, then he clearly didn’t think Tal could actually use it. This indicated that this group’s fearless leader didn’t work for the Guard in any way.
His band were likely just petty bounty hunters. That meant that if Tal and Carmine eliminated them, no more would come. So, Tal could take the little extra time he needed to finish with the Glass. But, they were still outnumbered here. Tal had to make his opponents make a mistake.
It’d be a bonus if he could cause dissension in the enemy ranks, of course.
This is what Tal was thinking, but meanwhile his mouth was moving, laying on