Bog Standard Isekai

Brin's first project was simply an attempt to get back to basics. It had been so long since he'd made any glass that he was nervous that he'd forgotten the process, but his hands seemed to remember what to do. Before too long, he had the kiln up to heat and prepared the sand, mixing it with the recipe he'd made with Ademir.

Hogg really had figured out the heat problem, because the sand melted easily in the new environment. Part of it was the big bellows, and part of it had to be the insulation. The stone of this new kiln was doing a lot better at keeping all the heat inside than the one he'd had back in Blackcliff.

Sure, Brin could melt glass with [Shape Glass] now, but he wanted a completely clean run, one without any kind of System work or magic, just to prove he could really do it.

The workroom heated up drastically as he got the fire going, more than was probably safe for a normal person, but [Heat Resistance] kept him from feeling more than a mild discomfort. There were windows in the room probably for this very reason, but he didn't open them and concentrated on the work.

He finished his first piece, a bottle, just because that's what he had the most practice doing. He blew, then rolled it out to even up the shape, blew again, and kept twisting to get it just right. It cooled just enough to stop glowing red and show him that he'd done it–the recipe was still good and he'd made beautifully transparent glass.

When he was done, he cut it off the pipe and placed it in the cooling oven.

[Summon Glass] leveled up! 29 -> 30

He couldn't stop the delighted laugh that escaped from his lips. Finally. Finally! That was the one Skill he couldn't seem to level out in the field. No matter how many pounds of glass he'd summoned during the war, only [Shape Glass] ever went up. Now he knew for sure: [Summon Glass] leveled up only by creating glass the usual way. This level probably came from the fact that he'd used no magic start to finish, where back in Blackcliff he'd had to use magic to heat it up, and in Hammon's Bog, Ademir's Skills made the fire hot enough.

It wasn’t like [Summon Glass’s] level 30 was really bad, but [Shape Glass] was almost double that, and he bet that both were lower than pure casters who didn’t split their time training as a [Knight]. Getting it leveling at all was the important part.

For his next attempt, he went the opposite route. This time, he pushed as much magic into the glass as he could while he worked. He made it heat faster, cool faster, and he chanted in the Language as he went, imbuing the glass with every good thing he could think of. Strength, durability, elasticity, sheen, and clarity. He even tried to adjust the internal structure of the glass to force it into being more like tempered glass.

He wasn’t sure how much the Language work was helping. When he pushed Mana into glass, he could make it harder, faster, and sharper, but only while it was being affected by the magic. When he turned off the Mana flow, the glass reverted to what it had been before. Still, it was definitely doing something, because Value Sense told him the bottle was worth twice as much as the first one.

He ended up with... well, a really good glass bottle. He didn't really have a way to measure how good it was, or in which ways. Lifting it with [Shape Glass], he could feel the difference. It weighed much less than a similar amount of glass would have if he'd summoned it with magic, maybe three-fourths as much. It was good, but not nearly on the level of his morphic glass shield. It wasn't even as good as the chandelier glass he'd used in Canibri.

He was hit with an unfamiliar wave of doubt. Was he wasting his time with this? He’d be better off just buying glass rather than learning to make it himself. And suddenly, doing it for the levels didn't seem like a good enough reason anymore.

Maybe if he had a teacher? But he already knew how that would go. They'd just tell him to get better Skills. Rather than learning more about their craft, high level crafters often just used their powerful Skills as a crutch to carry them through their ignorance. He didn't know if anyone in this world had discovered borosilicate glass; they just used magic to make the glass heat-resistant.

He didn't even have the motivation of money. In Hammon's Bog, the glass he made had felt like a lucrative trade, but compared to how rich Hogg and Lumina were, the price of his glass could barely be considered pocket change.

He shook his head. Was there really nothing he wanted to try? Of course there was. He wanted another backup spear, one he could hide in his ring. Though, maybe a javelin? Or better yet, bullets. If he had a handful of really nice glass bullets, that would make a much better last-resort weapon than anything melee.

He started up with those, and noticed that Hogg had even included some of the elements that [Glassers] used to change the glass’s color among the supplies. He made twenty bullets. Marbles, really, and all the same size. Again, he chanted in the language to give them durability and beauty. To finish them off, he dropped them in a bucket of water, the same way he would for a Prince Rupert's Drop, except that he also used [Shape Glass] to push them into a perfect spherical shape, trying to eliminate the weakness that a tail would cause.

At the end of the day, he had twenty very good marbles. The System agreed.

[Summon Glass] leveled up! 30 -> 31

As he tidied up at the end of the day, he made plans for what he'd work on tomorrow. What he really needed was an assistant. Another pair of hands would be nice, and another pair of eyes. Even just someone to talk to while he sat and waited for glass to melt.

He found his way back to his rooms, and accepted Tonin's offer of a bath. He ate an extravagant meal with Hogg, with more dishes than either of them could hope to touch, though Hogg barely seemed to notice it. He was torn between catching up with Brin and letting his thoughts drift towards his own business, so the meal didn't even register. Marksi enjoyed it most out of all of them, and Brin noticed that the servants were quickly learning to love the little dragon, if only because he was always so obviously satisfied by the way these humans doted on him.

Bedtime was a bit of a negotiation as he and Tonin got used to each other. The [Valet] defaulted to trying to do everything for Brin, and letting Brin tell him when he didn't want that. Brin let him help remove his overcoat and boots, but otherwise undressed himself. He firmly objected when Tonin made to tuck him into bed--the huge mattress and heavy down blankets were already smothering him and he didn't need them even tighter.

"Ah, sir, before I leave you, there is the matter of your wardrobe. Certain items were prepared for your arrival, and we're quite certain that we have the correct fit, but not that we've arranged things to your taste. On the matter of color preference and style..."

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Brin resisted the urge to say he didn't care--that was the type of thing that told people you didn't care about the work they were doing for you. Instead, he considered the question, and said, "Black. Not to be edgy or mournful, but because it's Hogg's color and it'll remind people we're related. Also, because it'll make me look older. And maybe a few red accents to remind people of Lumina? I also like having dragons embroidered onto my clothes, but that's not required if it's not in fashion. I don't mind matching what's in style."

"Very good, my lord, then I think you'll be pleased with what we've arranged." He threw open the wardrobe doors to reveal several outfits on hangers that matched what Brin had described almost exactly.

"You got lucky," said Brin.

Tonin mimed wiping his brow and said, "Phew. As for the embroidery, it isn't quite the style, but neither would it be seen as an eccentricity or an ostentation. I'll have it arranged."

"Good. Thank you, Tonin."

"Sleep well, my lord."

In the morning, Brin woke before dawn, eager to get started at the workshop before breakfast, and somehow Tonin was already awake and ready with tea and toast.

"Would you like to peruse your wardrobe, or shall I select something?" he asked.

"I was just going to throw on something from my bag," said Brin. "Where... is my bag?" Looking around, he noticed that most of his possessions were in sight or accounted for. His souvenirs from the war were in that chest, and his comb and mirror were on that nightstand, his armor was polished and displayed on an armor stand, and his toothbrush was by the basin in the washroom. But his clothes were missing.

"I can ask around and see if someone has seen it," said Tonin. There was something in his voice that made Brin think he knew exactly where the bag was, and that it had been burned along with his old, ratty, weatherworn clothes.

"I just need something practical and sturdy. I'm going to be working in the glass shop this morning, so I need something I won't mind messing up," said Brin.

The set of clothes was nicer than anything Brin had worn for the past couple year, with the possible exception of the dress uniform they wore on special occasions in the Order. It was a full suit and pants, complete with a pocket square and a red vest. He was lucky he wasn't being pressed to wear a cravat.

He didn't say anything, but Tonin could read his face.

"It is the position of Her Radiance Lumina that the First Son of Edelor should never look a slouch or a commoner in front of his inferiors," said Tonin.

"I get it," Brin said with a sigh. "Do I really have to wear the jacket?"

"You might remove the gloves, but only when you're safely inside the workshop," said Tonin. "I'm also tasked with informing you that you're to take lunch with your mother, Lady Lumina."

That perked up his mood a bit, so Brin allowed himself to be dressed without any more argument. He was pleasantly surprised when he found that the clothing actually felt fairly sturdy and practical. It was leather, styled and treated to look like linen, and despite that, still breathed like cotton. Was this Perris' work? He'd need to pay the [Leatherworker] a visit.

This time, Marksi came with him to the workshop, giving him the company he'd been longing for the day before. And instead of playing or taking a nap like normal, Marksi watched everything Brin did with rapt attention, right from the beginning.

Today's plan was more marbles, but this time, he tested them by cooling them at different temperatures and at different speeds, taking careful notes of each one. He'd test their strengths later, and see if he could work out what technique worked best. If he was going to improve his glass, then he was going to have to be scientific about it.

Halfway through the morning, Marksi held out his hands, urging Brin to give him a chance with a blowpipe. Brin shrugged and handed him one, wondering if he just wanted to play with it, but the dragonling then started pointing at the door to the kiln.

Did Marksi want to try his hand at making glass? Dragon's didn't make things. He was pretty sure that was one of Marksi's dragon rules. Or no, that wasn't right. Dragons didn't need things. He'd never heard a rule against them making things.

Curious to see how it would go, Brin opened the door and lifted Marksi up, letting him scoop out a bit of glowing yellow molten glass.

Marksi pulled it, and attempted to mimic Brin's behavior, but he didn't have the dexterity or the right body shape for it. He tried to blow into the pipe, but while his lungs worked fine, he didn't have lips that could form a seal. He got distracted twice and let the pipe touch the ground, leaving globs of cooling glass on the floor.

Overall, it was a complete disaster, but Brin was glad enough to see Marksi trying something for the first time that he encouraged it. For the next couple hours they tried all sorts of techniques to try to help Marksi make something.

Marksi scratched the glass with his claws, scorched the outsides with his laser breath, and tools to push and prod it into place. He eventually ended with an oblong wad of glass that he was inordinately proud of.

Once it was finished, Brin started to get an idea of what Marksi had been going for. If you squinted at it right, it was in the approximate shape of a round brilliant cut gemstone. And that made sense; Marksi would want a jewel to hoard.

They started over, and again he let Marksi do all the work, but this time he knew from the beginning what he was going for, so he was able to point Marksi towards the correct tools and techniques.

He also used [Shape Glass] to cheat a little, making the new glass jewel a little clearer, its surfaces flatter, and the shape more symmetrical than Marksi would’ve been able to do on his own.

The end result was a simple but beautiful glass jewel. Brin used [Shape Glass] and a bucket of water to cool it quickly so that he'd be able to show it to Lumina. Marksi clutched it to his chest as if it were the most valuable thing he’d ever seen, his first odd attempt already forgotten. The dragonling held it in his mouth and blasted out of the workshop, running off to show everyone his new prize.

Brin didn't think he'd learned anything about glass from the morning's experiments, but Marksi was happy and that was what mattered.

He made his way back to their rooms, and Tonin helped him change yet again, into something more appropriate for lunch with an [Archmage], even if that [Archmage] was his mother.

Even though he was trying to avoid thinking about it, he couldn’t help but dwell on his exile in the monastery. By the time he opened the door and saw Lumina standing in Hogg’s dining room, he had worked himself up into a repeat of the way he’d greeted Hogg.

“You–!”

Lumina slammed into him, hugging him tight. He hugged back on reflex, and when Lumina took a step back, her eyes watering and with a shaky smile, the wind had pretty much gone out of his sails.

“Oh my. Look at you! You got taller again,” said Lumina.

“You were in prison in Theranor! Why didn’t you tell me?” asked Brin.

“Because you would’ve gotten completely the wrong idea. I was terribly comfortable, and I dare say I had more freedom than you,” she said.

Brin snorted, and it sounded a lot more bitter than he would prefer. “That wouldn’t be hard.”

Lumina chewed on her lip. “Oh dear. I was worried about this. Brin, I’m… I’m so sorry we left you in that dreadful place. Or… Or I’m not sorry at all, depending on if it really helped you or not. Galan told me he would do for you what was best, and if I were free to travel I hope you know I would have come to see if you were well. As it was…”

She looked to Hogg for help. He folded his arms. “Don’t look at me. I think it was good for him.”

She nodded, squaring herself up. “Yes, in that case, that’s our answer. I intend Hogg and I to be united in this.”

Brin sighed. Did he really want to make a big deal about this? He really was happy to see Lumina again, to be reunited under one roof like how it had been in Hammon’s Bog. He decided to let it go.

“It’s fine.” He rubbed his hands together. “Alright, so now we’re here! What’s the game, who’s our opponent, and how are we going to beat them?”

Hogg said, “That’s the spirit. So remember hearing about Duke Xander? Well–”

“That’s hardly a mealtime conversation, and I’d hate to let the lunch your people have worked so hard on grow cold,” said Lumina. She stepped towards the still empty table, and Hogg moved quickly to get in front of her so that he’d be able to pull out her chair.

Lumina said, “I propose a different topic of conversation. You should be given a summary of the lessons you’ll be taking. Most of the first year classes are the same, but there is some variance between different elements. On that note: Do you still intend to take [Mage]? And if so, have you given thought as to what type of [Mage] you’d like to be?”