Breaking Step, Draft 1, CH 42 (Patreon)

Tibs smirked as one of the noble lobbed a plate in the air. This time, Tibs hit it with a series of ice shards, spinning it and keeping it in the air until he etched a blob of sticking water that hit and stuck it to the wall, then gently slide down to the floor.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Lamberto discreetly motion to him and reluctantly Tibs bowed to the ohhs and ahhs of appreciation of those watching.

Gabrielle handed him another goblet of dark liquid she and her friends, Tibs supposed, were drinking. He pulled out the corruption and then passed purity through it. Getting drunk with this crowd was not something he could afford. It wouldn’t take much for him to tell them exactly what he thought of their kind.

He down the content and raised the goblet to louder applauses than any at what he’d done with his essence, as if drinking this was more of an accomplishment. He considered throwing the goblet at the table and seeing if he could have water there to catch it, but decided against it. The nobles didn’t seem to mind when he broke one of them as part of some test of what he could do, but he didn’t think they’d be as appreciative if he did so unprompted.

“That was amazing,” Lamberto said, following Tibs to the table with the food. Each time he went to one of them, there was someone pointed to one of the small portion and expressing one form of amazement or another, or commenting on how their servants could arrange the table in a more appealing way, or with more variety or more colors or in multiple ways that sounded more like they were trying to impress those around them than convey anything of importance.

Tibs just wished there some something the size of an actual meal, instead of something he could pick up with his fingers. He was getting hungry, but no one did more than pick up an occasional small piece of hard bread with an even smaller piece of something else on it as they passed the table. Everything Tibs tasted was good. There simply wasn’t enough on each to fill him.

“Tell me…” the noble looked Tibs over, “young man, I’ve seen you throw ice around, but can you do something about this?” he presented the crystal goblet he held containing an almost clear liquid. “Our host can’t seem to keep his drinks cold.”

“Of course he can,” Lamberto said enthusiastically. “There’s nothing Tibs can’t do with his element. Isn’t that right?”

Tibs wished the boy would stop. Just stop. He couldn’t tell what his game was. Was he hoping to make himself more important by latching onto Tibs? Have Tibs think highly of him for spreading his fame?

Not having much of a choice anymore, he touched the goblet and formed small pieces of ice in it until they stopped melting. When he let go, the man sipped the content, sighed in appreciation, and walked away without even thanking Tibs.

Gratitude was beneath such people.

Tibs turned to look the crowd over while chewing on the piece of bread and thin layer of meaty and spicy paste on it. A few of the nobles pointed in his direction while speaking to those around them. Smiles were exchanged, chuckles, then they were no longer looking at him. He could find out what they said. No one had air as an element, so there was no chance his use of it would be noticed, but he didn’t care what they had to say.

He was surprised at how many of them were armed. They all had a knife at their belt, but many had one in their boot, or at their back. A few at their wrist and a woman had one in her hair, masquerading as one of the wooden sticks holding her braids in place.

Three even had theirs drenched in something containing corruption. Tibs added to his ever-growing list, finding a way to getting his hand on different poison so he could learn to recognize them by the composition of essences and how to render them inert. He suspected that with the better made ones, simply removing the corruption from it wouldn’t be enough.

“You,” a woman called, then threw a silver spoon at him. He considered just moving out of the way, but she, like the others, wanted another demonstration of his ability. With a flick of a finger, water lanced up from the floor before him and caught the spoon. He turned it to show he was holding it, then deposited it on the table.

The applauses were light this time.

“Come on,” Lamberto whispered.

Stifling a sigh, Tibs bowed and the applauses increase.

Nobles and their stupid customs.

He watched servants enter, carrying trays, as he ate another piece of bread, this one with a sweet and sour jam. Maybe now they would get actual—

No, more platters with only tiny breads to replace the empty ones.

Tibs paused as he reached for another, a servant catching his attention. It wasn’t the darkness within him that did it. She had more than the other servants, but Tibs had learned that secret did not mean bad intent. It was the attentive way she looked the room over. She was discreet about it, but Tibs recognized a rogue at work. Or a thief, in this case. The woman had no essence.

That another thief was active in his town annoyed him because it meant whatever he’d get blamed for whatever she was up to. Irdian would, again, summon him when the noble complained, Tibs might end up in a cell for a few days again, because the guard leader would hold him responsible.

He was beginning to consider setting up something to catch any thief that entered his town and explaining his rules.

He let her move about, returning to enjoying the taste of the smeared breads. Maybe she’d be good enough the noble she was targeting wouldn’t realize what she’d done.

“You need to meet Lord Marton,” Lamberto said, and Tibs nodded. Again, the boy paraded him before another noble. Explaining who Tibs was, his element, then offering for the man to test Tibs.

The noble seemed impressed, or at least acted the part. He had to have seen Tibs’s previous demonstrations. But as the host’s son, Tibs expected Lamberto was due the same kind of reverence his father was, and the boy seemed intent on taking advantage of it.

The noble threw his plate in this air. Tibs caught it with water and the man acted suitably impressed before engaging Lamberto in a conversation about his plans once he had mastered his element.

Tibs left them to it and returned to a table with food. Glad to be away from the boy finally.

“I must admit, this is one of Theodore’s better event,” a man with his back to Tibs said.

“I agree. I can’t recall the last time I was this entertained,” the woman with him said.

“The man has always been clever, and for him to turn his problems at him into an opportunity… well, that’s just like him. Where else could he get such entertainment for nothing more than saying he will purchase a home, and have his children live there. He was going to do it, regardless.”

“You can alway count on Theodore to pull one over those who think themselves his better.”

“As you’d know.”

“Yes, well, unlike others, I’ve learned my lesson,” she replied. “Did you see how the boy was?”

“Oh yes, with his throwing of water and ice. So impressive.” The man chuckled mockingly.

“And how he preened afterward,” she said. “As if that made him more than some dirt born child.”

Ice covered the small piece of bread in his hand.

What they thought didn’t matter, he told himself, as the ice inside him cracked.

Realizing what he’d done, he carefully thawed it, keeping hold of his anger as it rose. Of course, they were laughing at him. They were nobles. What else would they do? He hadn’t come here looking for anything from them. This had been a duty forced on him by Tirania. Once that wasn’t needed, it turned out.

So why was he so angry they were treated him exactly as he should have expected?

Because, he realized, it had been nice to be seen. To be acknowledged as something more than dirt. He hadn’t wanted to be seen as anything like them, but he’d thought he’d seen respect for what he was capable of.

They’d been mocking him all this time. They hadn’t been smiling, they’d been smirking.

“Tibs,” Lamberto said, “come, you have to speak with Lady Treflein, she—” And the boy was the reason. 

“No,” Tibs snarled, keeping his voice low. “I don’t have to do one cursed thing you say.” Antagonizing everyone in the room wasn’t a good idea, but he didn’t have to take this one noble’s condescending attitude.

“Tibs, I’m sorry, what it—”

“You can fucking stop. I get what you’re doing now. Prancing me around like I’m your pet Runner.”

“I didn’t—”

“Sure you didn’t. I know dogs who get treated better than you’re treating me.” Tibs walked away.

“Tibs,” Lamberto called as he caught up to him. “What happened? Let me help to—”

“You happened.” They were all paying attention to them now, but Tibs didn’t care. He wasn’t needed here, and he wasn’t going to let this noble try to convince him otherwise. “You and your clinging to me. Your using me to make yourself more important to them. I’m done. I’m getting out of here and—”

The glint of metal distracted him. Not because it was there. Not even because it was a knife, but because it appeared out of nothing as the woman on the other side of the room pulled on it.

He ran before he understood what was happening. Focused on where the metal registered to his sense and got the hint of Darkness there thought he could make out a weave. It had been hidden by Darkness.

He collided with the man the knife was intended for, felt it cut his clothes and pass through his stomach, leaving behind Corruption he absorbed without thinking about it.

“Watched what you’re doing!” the man protested. “You made me spill my drink!”

Tibs elbowed Palden to get him away, forming a shield to block the knife as she tried to plant it in the noble. He kicked at her, ignoring the man’s ongoing complaints, but she stepped away.

She was the servant he’d noticed earlier.

He formed a sword, and the crowd awwed.

They were watching; he realized. Leaving enough space so they wouldn’t be endangered by the fight. Tibs considered walking away. They knew about the assassin now. Let them deal with her.

They’d probably bitch he hadn’t protected them, and Tirania would be unhappy and she might wonder how on her side Tibs was.

He grinned at the woman.

No, it was so much simpler than that.

He wanted to hit someone. Spend his anger on someone who couldn’t then complain about what he’d done.

He swung and blocked.

Her knife meant she had to get in close, but she was nimble, and easily dodged his attempts. Even when she slipped on the patch of ice, she’d rolled back to her feet quicker than he could take advantage of. Then she was under his sword, stabbing his side. He was quick enough is only sliced through instead of stab, but he was getting pissed that she was this good.

He had an element. She shouldn’t be cutting him more than he managed to cut her.

He could imagine Cross’s opinion of that.

He stuck her in place with a pool of sticky water, but that only let him cut her once before she had her foot out of her boot. He could tell he was making her work for it, but the fight should be over already, instead of dragging on.

A quick ‘x’ shattered a table as she jumped out of the way. He flung an ice shard, but she deflected it with her knife, then smirked as Tibs stared. She tried to take advantage of her surprise, but he blocked with his shield, then had the spikes grow to—

She’d already jumped out of the way.

He followed her, and closed the distance as she stumbled, ready to finish this even as he realized there was no reason for her to have done so. He readied himself for whatever she had planned.

“Tibs!”

Someone slammed into him, and Tibs turned as he landed on the ground. Lamberto was where he’d been, a man, another servant, pulling a knife out of his stomach.

Tibs threw his sword at the man and it impaled him in his chest, then Tibs was up making a new one, ready to finish this.

Nobles were picking themselves up, making a line to the door.

“It hurts, it hurts, it hurts,” Lamberto whined, holding his bloody stomach. Tibs almost kept going, but the boy had kept him from having to explain things he’d rather not. And the woman was gone. He’d already lost track of her essence among those in the house.

He kneeled next to boy. “Why the fuck did you do that?” he demanded. He wouldn’t be able to do much, not without people asking question, but he could make sure he didn’t die.

“I couldn’t let you be killed.” He looked away as Tibs ripped the sliced shirt open. “How bad is it?”

Tibs stared. Something glittered in the blood.

“It’s that bad?” Lamberto asked.

Tibs wiped the blood away to reveal crystal filling the wound, keeping him from bleeding out.

“How did you do that?” Gabrielle asked.

Tibs smiled, then wiped that away.

Maybe one of that bunch had a chance at surviving the dungeon afterall.