Otherworldly - A Shadowed Awakening

Break of Autumn, Week 3, Day 7

The blast of heat was instantaneous but not too uncomfortable. Klein and Arlen took a moment to survey Gilly before letting go of their sword hilts and stepping back behind me. In front of us, the glass surrounding Gilly was melting and turning into glowing molten balls of light –some colored, some not.

I could feel my hair frizzing in the heat, and my smile was uncontrollable.

“Stay where you are, my Ladies,” Brienne said from beside us. “It’s beautiful, but it’s dangerous.”

“She’s right,” Gilly said, stepping backward –deeper into the vast space. “But I’ll show you the perks of being a [Grandmaster Glassworker].”

I could feel the power in her [Class] name and shivered in excitement. The grin on Gilly’s face could not have been wider than my own. Next to me, Jenny’s eyes were narrowed in the heat, but she had a smile too. The air was steep in anticipation of what Gilly would do next.

The balls of molten glass swirled around her, but Gilly looked unconcerned by the heat. Instead, she seemed to be surveying her options. It only took her a few moments to make a decision. She pulled four glass balls from the air: a clear ball, two purple balls –each a different shade, and a glowing blue orb. The rest of the glass balls returned to rod shapes and settled in a pile on the ground next to GIlly.

The two molten orbs in each of Gilly’s hands should have been burning flesh and catching cloth on fire. They should be unable to be held. They should not be easily held by a mortal hand.

This isn’t elsewhere, Nora, this is Maeve, I reminded myself, And the magic here is different.

Gilly was a blur of movement as she tossed the balls into the air, a wicked grin still on her face. First was the clear glass ball, then the two purple, and next was the blue ball. She was juggling the glass. She flicked her eyes at Brienne, who was on the move and pulling out a metal counter on wheels. It was simplistic but smooth. It was tilted just slightly so we could see the entirety of the countertop. While Gilly juggled the four balls of molten glass, Brienne was clearing off metal tools I didn’t recognize well enough to name. She hung them on hooks on the side of the rolling countertop.

As soon as Brienne stepped away and returned next to us, Gilly threw the orbs one by one onto the counter. They landed with a sizzle and in a straight line. Stepping around to the back of the counter, Gilly began the real work. She began the art.

There was no longer a smile on her face. Instead, her brow was furrowed, and her mouth was in a flat line. She was the picture of focus. Her muscles began to bulge, and in her hand appeared a glowing blade. It was barely an inch long with a glowing handle that settled perfectly into Gilly’s palm. That was when she began to cut the orbs into bits.

She sliced, pulled, and pinched the glass in a dozen different ways, and when she had a handful of small strips, she looked up and met my eyes before glancing down to my hip, where Noir’s head was popping out of my bag. Another smile flashed across her face, disappearing as quickly as it had appeared. And then she was pulling the strips into ever finer and more delicate pieces.

As I leaned in, she began to weave.

I took a sharp inhale of breath, and my eyes flicked from the glass up to Gilly before falling back to the magic of her hands.

She braided the glass as if it were the simplest thing in the world, and as she did so, she pulled the shape of the glass up and around. She created the base, and she was working so fast that I didn’t think I’d have been able to follow her hands without my high Perception. Color flowed through the braids, the purples and blue reflecting and blending into the transparent glass.

I was watching in a trance, and it was over too soon. The air immediately cooled as Gilly stepped back, wiping her hands off on her pants. Once she was done, I felt my heart leap in my chest. I had, of course, noticed what she was making. Seeing it finished was a whole other thing.

It was Noir. A chunkier, more clearly braided glass Noir. It was smaller than the actual thing, only about four inches tall, but it was beautiful.

I stepped forward to get a closer look, but Gilly held up her hand to stop me.

“Almost done,” she said. And then she leaned down so that the glass Noir was at eye level, and she took a deep breath.

As she blew out, I could feel ice all around me. It chilled me to my bones. But as Gilly stood back up, I could see that the glass Noir was now shimmering in the light. Whatever Skill she had used added some kind of iridescent gloss.

I bet that’s what makes the stone of the building shimmer.

Gilly pulled out a shred of gold and picked up the glass bunny. Pressing the gold to the bottom of the piece of art, I watched a golden light encompass the entire piece before sinking back to the bottom of the bunny.

“It’s finished,” Gilly said triumphantly before waving me forward. “It’s safe to approach, Lady Dawn, if you would like a closer look.”

I did, and I didn’t hesitate to bound forward. I didn’t even think about controlling my speed. I was so thrilled that, one moment, I was by the wall. The next, I was rushing to the counter and gripping the edge, peering at the glass version of Noir.

“He’s beautiful,” I whispered before realizing something.

I need it. It’s Noir. I want it. Do I have enough for something crafted by a [Grandmaster Glassworker]?

I looked up at Gilly, taking a breath before asking, “How much?”

Immediately, she smiled, “How much?”

I nodded forcefully, “How much? He’s beautiful. He’s a piece of art made from my Noir. I want it.”

I couldn’t hide the pure want from my voice. In that moment, it felt as if I’d never desired something so much.

“[Inspect] it, my Lady,” Gilly said cryptically rather than naming a price.

So I did. My eyes flew to the piece of art.

[Inspect]

[Handmolded Glass Figurine, Tier 1, Uncommon]

[Name: In the Light of Dawn]

[A figurine crafted in the likeness of a knit bunny. It is made of several woven strands of glass and infused with dyes made up of ground Jyler, Lyrica Petals, and Perringal Petals. Made personally for the Lady Eunora Dawn.]

[Designed and crafted by Gilthelda Mainsted]

I blinked, then looked up to GIlly, “But–”

“No buts, Lady Dawn,” Gilly bent down to look at me at eye level, “Just promise you’ll display it somewhere prominent for all to see.”

I didn’t even care that this was probably just a business decision. That it had everything to do with my name and nothing to do with being kind.

I laughed. “Deal.”

“Then, Volero will wrap this up for you while we look around and then have some tea.”

The rest of the hot shop was much less magical. The other artisans required furnaces and tools and whatever else goes into glassworking. No one else spoke up while Gilly took us around the shop ending back where we started at the hallway with the plush chairs and the multicolored shadows.

As we sat, Volero had already placed a tea cart out. Gilly poured tea for me and Jenny –as well as a nervous-looking Brienne.

“Now, tell me, what brings a Dawn to our slice of paradise?” Gilly asked. I knew better and sipped my tea from a delicate pink glass cup.

Jenny answered as if she’d been prepared for this, “The Knights of the Dusk are handling the Blight issues that have been reported. Lady Dawn was passing through and answered the Call.”

Her words all held more meaning than I cared to parse, but Gilly clearly understood.

“Ah, then you have my gratitude, Lady Dawn.” Gilly bent her head toward me. “The forest has been rougher than usual this autumn.”

“Does that affect your business much?” I couldn’t help but ask.

“It does –the local apothecary and florist supply us with a large portion of our dyes, and they often forage in the forest nearby. We have plenty of dye for now, but our stock needs to last through winter.”

I nodded, “From what my knights have told me, they should be done clearing brambles tomorrow.”

As we chatted about Perry as a whole and what Jenny had shown me so far, Volero came out with a purple satin box with a soft lavender-colored ribbon. He placed it gently on the end table next to me.

“Your work of art, Lady Dawn.”

I smiled to myself and gave a gentle, “Thank you.”

As we left the glassworks, Klein carried the box with the glass Noir, and we made our way back to the Perry Manor. It was time for lunch.

Fortunately, Lady Perry was out for the day –doing who knows what. I didn’t care. I preferred the peace that came away from her. The light chatter I could have with Jenny was better. Kind of. Until I thought of how she was so self-assured in front of citizens, unlanded and landed both, and how reserved she was in front of me. It was reminiscent of her mother. Because if she saw the commoners of Perry as beneath her. Why would she be nervous? She wouldn’t be –that was the kicker.

As we sat in the music room, the smooth sound of Jenny plucking her harp filled the air. I was frowning at the thoughts plaguing me.

Still, I couldn’t prove that was what was happening. And she was just as young as I was –so, of course, her mother was her main role model.

Of course. I mocked in my head, thinking of Countess Dawn. A mother should be a role model.

We sat in that room, decorated in red bronze. On the walls hung portraits of red-haired men and women, and in the corner was a redwood piano. There were violins and violas and a cello. Mounted on the wall was a display of flutes. I wondered who played all these instruments. Jenny and Lady Perry had only ever mentioned the massive harp set at the center of the room. I was seated a dozen or so feet away on a plush couch, tea and cookies next to me.

As I took it all in, time passed, decorated with the soothing notes of Jenny’s harp. I wouldn’t say it made me lose track of time, but it could have. If I wasn’t perpetually in my own head. In the end, Jenny played the harp for so long that her fingers grew red, and sweat beaded on her forehead.

When she finally paused, her eyes settled on me as I was holding Noir in my arms with my feet tucked underneath me, and my boots were sitting on the ground in front of the couch. I was reading a pamphlet I had found on the end table to my left. It was about the theory of music and listed some annotated compositions for the harp. The lettering was rough, but it had the distinctive swirls of noble writing. Jenny must have worked hard to memorize the piece. I couldn’t tell which one it was, but everything she played was smooth and beautiful to hear.

It had been over an hour, and I had wondered if I should have pulled out a book. It was the perfect studying atmosphere. And I desperately needed to learn. To grow. To become more.