Book 3. Chapter 21

Book 3. Chapter 21

On the morning of Rodrige’s wedding, Brin dug through his wardrobe to find his best formal clothes, and found a problem. They didn’t fit. There was a silver lining–it meant he’d finally hit that growth spurt he’d been waiting for, but that didn’t help him now. The pants left four inches bare above his ankles, and he knew that if he tried to put the coat on all the way it would tear. Sure, he could wear his everyday clothes–they weren’t poor-looking by any means–but the formal attire was a whole different affair.

The jacket was a deep navy blue, with a golden dragon design along the back. It was to be worn with a collared shirt and tied with a nice red sash, and everything was embossed with gold and lined with lace and tassels. The red sash still fit, and so did the tall red hat, but everything else needed to be replaced, and he didn’t have a lot of time for it.

The one saving grace was that Perris had made this. With any luck the [Leatherworker] and shopkeeper would be able to do a rush order. He still had four hours before the wedding. Was that enough time? In his old world, obviously not. But here, a little bit of money could convince high level crafters to do literal miracles.

He gathered it all together and rushed towards Perris’ shop, hoping there wouldn’t be any morning rush.

When he got to the store, he found Perris behind the counter. He was looking a little gaunt like he'd been working too hard without eating, but that only served to amplify the villainous persona he liked to put on. He leaned over his counter like a ghoul, looking taller than he had before, more shocking and angular. Like always, his long mustache had been polished to points, and they looked even longer than they had been before.

The shelves were also transformed from how the shop had been during the siege. Before, as the days without a caravan stretched into months, the shelves had been nearly empty. Now they were bursting at the seams. There was a whole row of helmets, opposite a row of breastplates, and Brin suddenly wanted very much to get a look at the locked glass display case of magical amulets.

No! He couldn’t let himself get distracted. Then Marksi jumped down off his shoulders and Brin got distracted.

The little dragon was still nervous around Perris, who seemed to be the one person in the world immune to his cuteness, but that never stopped Marksi from coming inside. The brave little dragonling stepped in front of Brin and walked inside.

He walked with emphasized casualness on all fours, sauntering as if he were perfectly at home. He made a show of looking up and down the aisles with lidded eyes as if completely unimpressed.

“Oh? What’s this? A customer? Yes, that’s it. A customer and his pet worm. But which is which?” Perris burst out in maniacal laughter, and Brin couldn’t help but smile along.

“Man, I missed you Perris. Glad to see you back on your feet,” said Brin.

“You may be now, but way until you see how much I charge you for these recently completed spears,” said Perris.

Brin rushed to the counter. “They’re done?”

He’d left the strongest glass spearhead he could make with Perris, trusting him to turn it into a full spear with the best of what the town had to offer. At first he’d thought that he could just use the Bog Standard haft he’d bought a while ago and get Chamylla to enchant it, but Perris had convinced him otherwise.

There was better wood that could be used, and System enchantments that could be placed by the town’s best [Woodworker]. A specialist [Lacquerer] improved it further, and apparently there were even bonuses for having Toros bind the head to the haft rather than doing it himself. A [Sharpener] improved the quality of the spearhead, even though it was glass. Only after all that was done, did they have Chamylla put on her best enchantments, at a steep discount.

Once Brin learned everything that went into it, he’d left all the details to Perris. He had plenty of money, but never enough time.

“Oh come on! Show it to me already!” Brin whined.

With a twinkle in his eye and a contemptuous smirk on his face, Perris lifted the completed spear up from behind the counter.

It was, in a word, simply beautiful. The wood of the haft twisted in a long spiral, the grains of the wood perfectly spaced and conforming as if it had grown to be this spear. A trail of runes lined the surface, just barely visible when the light glanced off it, shimmering sort of like Marksi’s scales.

The glass head glowed softly, looking strong and sharp. The spearhead had looked nice when he made it, but now it was downright otherworldly. It had an almost futuristic quality; he could almost believe it was an energy weapon from a science fiction movie.

Even Marksi forgot everything else when the spear came out. He hopped up on the counter to admire it more closely, purring.T0pp novel updates at novelhall.com

Brin was about to try to put into words the awe and gratitude he felt at seeing such a masterpiece, but that would just make Perris uncomfortable. He straightened his back, looked Perris straight in the eye and snorted. “It’s fine I guess.”

Perris spluttered. “Fine? The durability is graded a [Warrior] with double your levels. Cutting power that can penetrate steel armor with an edge that won’t dull. On glass! Do you know how hard it is to make a glass weapon that can strike metal without dulling or cracking?”

“I actually do,” said Brin. For now, his own glass spearheads were close to single-use.

“Then you know what we’ve done here. And if that’s not enough, Chamylla achieved total synergy with glass magic. Give it a try.”

Brin reverently picked the spear up with both hands, delighting in the smooth, firm weight. Despite how he needed to act for Perris’ sake, this was a magnificent weapon. It was lighter than he’d expected, too. Not any lighter than any other spear he’d held, but somehow he’d expected all the magic to make it heavier for some reason.

Perris had said it synergized with glass magic? He pushed a little mana into it from [Shape Glass]. He didn’t use any Language, just sort of imagined it bobbing in place.

The spear jumped as if it had been kicked, and then writhed in his grasp as if it were alive until he cut the mana.

“Whoa.”

Perris smirked. “It’ll do everything a spear does, but better. Swing faster, hit harder, even carry you along if your magic moves faster than your body. The best part is that it’s attuned to your magic. This is every adventurer’s dream: a weapon that can’t be used against you. Unless your opponent is another [Glasser].”

“[Glasser] isn’t the best Class for combat. I doubt I’ll ever meet another one,” said Brin.

Perris shook his head. “Well now that you’ve said that, it’s bound to happen. So! Between this spear and the other one, we’re looking at eighty-five gold.”

Brin winced. That was a pretty large chunk out of the remainder of the allowance Lumina had given him.

“Don’t even start. That’s a steal! The only reason it’s so cheap is because Chamylla was willing to work practically for free.”

Rodrige walked him over to the table, stacked high with presents. People didn’t really do wrapping paper here, no surprise, so the table was stacked high with blankets, clothes, tools, trinkets and jewelry. Not wanting to put a big wooden box on the table, Brin set the box on the ground and started pulling things out.

He’d brought glassware, of course. Anything else he’d have to buy and he didn’t know exactly how much money would be appropriate to spend for something like this. Anything he made himself didn’t have that issue. Also, it felt more meaningful to give something he’d made himself.

He’d made a dozen glass cups, some bottles, and then he’d tried his hand at making plates and bowls. Six of each. He could color glass now with [Shape Glass], so he’d made it all a completely opaque white in an attempt to make something like china. It wasn’t really the same; it was still just ordinary glass, but he thought they were still usable. He’d also tried his hand at making a glass necklace, but the result had been atrocious and he’d melted it down out of shame. They’d have to do without.

“I’m surprised not many people are here yet. Am I early?”

“A... little. No, not really. This... this part of the wedding is sort of informal, people show up and leave again. The ceremony and the feast afterwards are a lot more busy.”

“Makes sense.” Brin shrugged. Rodrige was suddenly acting distracted and strange, and Madely, who’d stayed where she was a little distance away, was now staring at them with wide eyes.

“What did I do?”

“Brin, that is a lot of glass,” said Rodrige.

“Seems like an ordinary amount of glass to me,” said Brin. It wasn’t even a full gold’s worth. There were more valuable things than glass on the table. “Oh, and I don’t actually need the box back. I was just kidding.”

Rodrige barked a surprised laugh. He shoved Brin’s shoulder with one hand, but then grabbed it again and looked him in the eyes. “Thank you.”

Brin shrugged. “Don’t mention it. I make glass, remember?”

“I guess you do,” said Rodrige. He tentatively reached down and touched a cup, softly as if it might suddenly shatter.

To Brin’s luck, Davi chose just that moment to leave the public house. “Oh, hey I should go say hi to Davi. You good?”

“Yeah, I should get back to Madely,” Rodrige said numbly.

Rodrige made no move to leave, though, and Madely started walking in their direction, so Brin left him and headed towards Davi. The big guy was walking pretty quick, doing his “I’m busy, don’t bother me” walk, so Brin fell along beside him.

“Davi, you have to help me. Somehow I’m part of a social occasion,” said Brin.

Davi huffed and glanced at the table. “You don’t do anything halfway, do you?”

“I don’t get it. There are more valuable gifts over there.”

“Yeah, but none of those are glass. Hm, I guess you wouldn’t know. So, a while ago the Prefit made a law that said that nothing can be more than twice as expensive here than it would be in Oud’s Bog. Except, there are things you just can’t get out here. Like glass,” said Davi.

“Ademir made glass,” objected Brin.

“Ademir made a little glass, split among a dozen other hobbies. He didn’t really get serious about it until he started training you. Glass is valuable, but it’s not allowed to be expensive, so Ademir only really liked to do big pieces that would sell for a lot in Oud’s Bog, too. Otherwise it wasn’t worth his time. So when he did make something that people could afford, everyone wanted it. To solve that, the Prefit made a waiting list. Everyone could sign up and then they had to wait their turn. But then everyone in town put their names on the list and it was so slow that you could get maybe one glass bottle every six months. There’s always the caravans, but they’re allowed to gouge their prices.”

“Oh,” said Brin, to which Davi just sighed.

“See, that’s why I need your help. I didn’t realize this until now, but I think I’m expected to wander around and talk to people now! I’m expected to socialize.” He said that last word with disgust.

“You’re telling me!” Davi practically exploded back. He glanced around and lowered his voice, but the frustration still bled through. “Nobody explained to me when I picked [Bard] how much of my job would be about sitting around talking to people. I never get to do any real work. When I’m not performing, I’m supposed to work the crowd or drum up more fans. I just spent all morning with the committee in charge of decorating. Yeah, it’s exactly what you’re thinking. They kept asking me ‘Yellow or green? This flower or that one?’ If I have to look at one more ribbon or banner, I might die.”

Brin laughed at Davi, which only darkened his friend’s mood. “Why do it then?”

“Jeffrey says I have to. The atmosphere of a venue feeds into our performance, so it’s in the domain of our magic. He told me my next Skill should be something that works on the atmosphere, but I don’t want it. I want a memory Skill like you have.”

“[Color of Music] is a memory Skill,” said Brin.

“Only partially,” griped Davi.

“So what are you doing now? Time to put on some ambience music? Give this place some atmosphere?”

“Nah. We’ll play during the ceremony, and afterwards. For now... well, count yourself lucky because you won’t have to do any socializing. You’ve just been drafted into the decorating committee.”

That worked for Brin just fine. It’s not that he hated talking to people; he just preferred to stick with people he already knew or with small groups. He and Davi walked around the square, hanging up banners, covering shade poles with ribbons, and making sure the flowers were in order.

Davi complained the entire time, which was a hilarious departure from his normal composure. He usually was eager to do any job without complaint, but this time he treated Brin to an unending diatribe on the indignity of having to care about things like matching colors. Despite his complaints, he did a thorough job, often fixing Brin’s work when it didn’t look quite right.

It kept them busy until the official ceremony began.