Breaking Step, Draft 1, CH 100 (Patreon)

Tibs focused on the nearly black knife floating between his hands. He didn’t need them there, encasing the etching, but it was comfortable to have a visual limitation to how the essence could move.

Don has spent all the afternoon explaining which letter to use, where they went and why their positions had to be different from when Tibs used Water essence, even if it and Corruption seemed to behave in the same way when enough of it was pooled together.

“Corruption doesn’t flow the way Water does,” Don had said, and silenced Tibs when he tried to correct him. Flowing wasn’t the right word for what Water essence did. Not that he had a better one to describe it. And with how Don searched for one, and then seemed to give up, he might not have one for Corruption either. “It oozes.”

Tibs had nodded, and Don had settled himself into a stance that reminded Tibs of Alistair as he set about explaining one of the deeper concept of working with essence. Unlike his teacher, Don had no patience for Tibs’s curiosity. Anytime he had an idea about what he might be able to do to improve the knife, such as altering the etching so he could make the essence in it denser, Don glared at him, and went on with what he was explaining.

Don’s explanations were clear, and if Tibs’s question was about clarifying something he didn’t understand, Don expanded on it. It was how Tibs had learned about enough of the Arcanus to do what he was doing now.

With Corruption, Ike needed to be placed further apart, instead of closer. That had been Tibs’s first misunderstanding. More of a letter did not mean its effect would be more pronounced. The placement was what mattered. The placement within the etching or weave, as well as in relation to the other Arcanus that were used.

There were entire wings of universities with books dedicated to showing how the Arcanus needed to be positioned to get a specific effect. There were so many not only because each element needed a different arrangement, but mindset also affected the overall effect.

Don had gone on a tangent then, explaining that those mindsets were what had led the guild to establish the classes. Over decades and decades of research, it was noted that certain groups seemed to think in similar ways. It wasn’t so much that they did things the same way that when they thought about how they’d do something, their minds approached the problem in ways that were close enough to be considered the same.

Hence the existence of the fighters, sorcerers, archers and rogues. Clerics were their own class by the effect of not allowing anyone to study them.

He’d then realized he’d diverged from the established teaching, had glared at Tibs as if he’d prompted, even if he’d been silent the whole time, and gone back to explaining the interaction of Ike, Bor, and Kha, in getting the knife to behave like a knife.

Once Tibs had been able to make the knife and hold it for longer than a few breaths, it had been dark for a while and Don called his work done. He’d stated that the next time he found Tibs, he’d pull him away from whatever he was doing, no matter how important Tibs claimed it was, and dragging to get him to learn proper control over the volume of essence he could unleash.

Tibs had intended to continue practicing once he was back in his room, but one look at his bed, and he’d been unconscious on it.

He’d washed once awake and sat at the table to work on adding the effect he needed for his knife to ensure it killed the guild leader.

He’d added Ool, which he’d gotten Don to explain, when he’d mentioned in passing how some assassins used that to make their attacks more effective. Tibs didn’t remember how that had come up, but the answer would help him. Ool had something to do with helping essence spread within a person. So Tibs had added as much of that Arcanus to the tip of the knife as he could and still have it act as a point. It turned… mushy, was the best word for it, if there was too much of it in relation to Bor. It didn’t seem to matter when it came to Ike. For a reason he hadn’t been able to get Don to explain.

He’d also been able to incorporate Gur within the ‘blade’ because Alistair had mentioned at one point how that Arcanus allowed for more essence within an etching when properly balanced.

Tibs had almost found that balance after a few hours of work. The knife could now hold far more corruption essence than when he’d started, but the problem was that it kept leaking out until it settled close to how much there had been the first time. The leak wasn’t fast, in that once set, he thought it would be a few hours before it was done, but Tibs had no idea how strong the guild leader’s defenses were, so he couldn’t afford for his knife to have anything other than the maximum amount of corruption it could hold.

The way it was now, he had to keep feeding it essence, to compensate for the loss. It meant that he’d have to focus on both maintaining his darkness sheath and the essence within the knife. He had trained on focusing on two etchings, but it meant that too many distractions could cause him to falter with either.

Which was why he was still working on it.

He gave himself until it was time for lunch, not when he was hungry, since he had access to purity, but the zenith. Then, he would practice maintaining both while walking through the town and try to come up with a way to get into the guild unnoticed.

* * * * *

“In a hurry?” Kroseph asked as he placed a new tankard before Tibs. He was almost done eating.

“Lots to do.” He’d lessened the leak of essence in the knife, but not stop it. Putting Ike or Bor closer together didn’t have the effect Tibs hoped, and any increase in Gur past where it was now just broke everything.

“And does one of those things include visiting Jackal?”

Tibs closed his mouth on his protest that he had too much to do. The reproach in the server’s eyes warned it wouldn’t be taken well. He nodded and hurried to finish eating.

He knocked on the door, then cracked it open and peeked inside. Kroseph was still working, so he wouldn’t walk in on anything he didn’t want to see. Not that waiting to be told to come in hadn’t led to him seeing far more of Jackal and Kroseph’s them time than he wanted. Those two loved to tease him that way. And Jackal on his own didn’t mean he wouldn’t engage in private fun just to annoy Tibs.

Unlike the fighter, there were things Tibs didn’t feel was appropriate doing when others were around. Especially someone who said, over and over, he didn’t want to see that stuff. Jackal was reclined on the bed, lower half covered with a sheet, and hands over that.

Tibs walked in, and the fighter smiled.

“Come to see your dying leader?” he said, then forced a cough. “I thought you’d forgotten I existed already.”

“Been busy,” Tibs mumbled. He knew Jackal was jesting, but Tibs had forgotten about him in getting ready for what he had to do. “And you aren’t dying.”

Jackal forced another cough. “How can you say that? I’ve been wasting away in this bed. Soon there’ll be nothing left of me.”

Tibs sat. “I can sense how little corruption’s left. There isn’t enough left to keep you in this bed.”

Jackal had a hand on Tibs’ mouth, looking at the door in fear. “Don’t say that,” he whispered. “Kro might hear you, then he’d going to stop looking after me.”

Tibs rolled his eyes and pulled the hand away. “Your man is never going to stop looking after you. No matter how healthy you are. And if you tell me what the special stuff he does to you when you’re sick, I am going to fill you with so much corruption it’s going to shrivel down to nothing.”

“I don’t know if there’s enough corruption to make that happen.”

Tibs snorted. “I’ve seen it, remember? I know exactly how much it’ll take. If you if you didn’t want me to know, you shouldn’t keep arranging to have your fun when you knew I’d walk in.”

“How was I to know you’d return to our room in the middle of it?” Jackal said, grinning.

“You have your ways,” Tibs grumbled.

Jackal chuckled. “What’s keeping you busy?”

Tibs shrugged, and the fighter frowned.

“If I threaten to tie you to that chair so you’ll have to watch me and Kro have fun, will you tell me?”

“I’d rather you didn’t.”

“That’s usually how threats work.”

Tibs glared at the fighter, who lost his humor. This wasn’t why he hadn’t visited. He had just forgotten. But it was the danger. Jackal knew him too well.

“If you don’t want to tell me, Tibs, it means you probably shouldn’t be doing this.”

“I have to.”

Jackal sighed. “I hate that when you say that. It probably means it’s true. You’re going to be careful?”

“As much as I can. It’s why I forgot to visit. I’m working on making sure it goes right.”

“Good. Because as soon as Kro works out I’m not sick enough to stay in his bed, I’m putting the team back on the schedule. And I’m going to need my rogue if we’re going to clear the fourth floor.”

Tibs nodded. They’d be able to do their run once he was done.

“Then I guess I should let you go,” Jackal said. “I’m supposed to be weak, after all. Any longer and Kro’s going to start suspecting I’m up to no good.”

“When are you ever not?”

Jackal stared at Tibs. “You mean he already knows?” Tibs shrugged, and Jackal’s expression turned suspicious. “Okay, now I’m wondering what exactly my man’s up to?”

“Enjoying not having you running around the town, getting into fights, staying out until the late hours, enjoying drinks with unmentionable people.”

“Hey, I mention them if I’m asked.” Jackal’s smile died. “Tibs, be careful.”

“I am.” He stood and felt without saying goodbye.

* * * * *

The problem wasn’t focusing on maintaining his darkness sheath and the corruption knife at the same time. The problem came from the one detail he’d forgotten in his hurry to train both.

People couldn’t see him.

He’d lost his focus more time than he could count because someone had almost walked into him and he only noticed them at the last moment. His sudden appearance had started the first few enough Tibs had focused on not losing the sheath in worry words would spread and the guild work out what Tibs was planning.

Now he was working on maintaining both while remaining aware of the people around him. It was a strain, but the upside was that it wouldn’t be as crowded within the building as it was here.

By the time the sun was approaching the top of the mountain, Tibs could navigate his way through all but the thickest crowd without bumping into anyone, or losing hold of either of his etching. The loss of essence from them had suffered from the split attention, but not so much he couldn’t do this.

If he could get in.

He’d approached the guild while sheathed, looking to get a sense of how the weave that reacted to him worked, but it was too complex.

And he needed a way in. His plan was to do this tomorrow as soon as the guild leader was back. He’d confirmed he wasn’t done from listening to the clerks walking along the road. It was the principal topic of conversation. No one knew how long the man would be around, or what the result of his investigation would lead to.

From the bits he pieced together. The possibilities seemed to go from removing Tirania to wiping out the town and restarting from the beginning with new everyone.

His need for urgency fought with his need to be careful. He didn’t intend to succeed, just to end up dead. He wasn’t abandoning his team like that.

He leaned against the wall, out of the flow of people to rest. He maintained the sheath and knife, as he had as soon as he’d exited the inn. Without the added distraction of the people, he barely had to think about either to keep adding the essence.

It was also why he noticed the dog sniffing the ground. It was heavier set than most of Serba’s dog, but he recognized it. It sniffed past him, whined, sniffed in the opposite direction, whined again, and started sniffing in what felt like random to Tibs. 

It stopped before him and looked around, sniffed and looked around again and he realized it was looking for him. He looked around. Serba should be… he found her in at the mouth of an alley. Tibs took the long way around to reach the other end of the alley, only to not find her there.

When he turned, the dog was there, sniffing his trail, and unable to locate him. His sheath worked even on animals. He located Serba approaching, and this time simply stepped back and let go of the sheath. The dog let out a startled whine, looked at him, then turned around until it was in entrance and sat.

Tibs let go of the knife. Then Serba was by the dog, looking at him. 

“About time,” she said. “If you’d made yourself any harder to find, it would have been too late for me to warn you. Irdian’s setting up to raid your stock again.”

Tibs sighed. That was one thing he didn’t have the time to deal with right now. “Okay, thanks… I’ll mange something.” Did it matter? It wasn’t like there was going to be a guild by the end of tomorrow. Irdian wouldn’t have the authority to keep Tibs from helping other Runners, or keeping the shops safe from thieves, or any of the other reasons the guard leader had decided were good enough to keep Tibs from doing what needed to be done for the good of the town.

Well, if he managed to get in. He had yet to come up with a way that meant the guard at the entrance didn’t notice him, and without that—

“When?” He yelled at her retreating back. Why go through the front door?

She looked at him over her shoulder. “At this point. Just about now.”

Tibs ran.