Breaking Step, Draft 1, CH 47 (Patreon)

Tibs’s sword slid over the scaled skin, barely leaving a mark, and he’d added metal to the ice’s edge this time. If he could stab one of them, his sword went it well enough, but they were adept at avoiding that.

“They’re resistant to fire!” Mez yelled.

“Of course they are,” Don replied. “They’re based on the dragons.”

“I don’t need a lesson, Don!” the archer replied.

“I’m not—” one of the creature’s scream turned into a gurgle. “I was only—” Another flew over Tibs, its body dissolving into dark goo. “Why does it feel like the dungeon has it in for me today?”

“Oh, I don’t know, Don,” Ganny chuckled. “Why would I ever be annoyed at your after what you pulled playing Conquest?”

“That borders on cheating, Ganny,” Sto said.

“No, it doesn’t. It’s just randomness that made this Dragolings extra sensitive to Corruption.”

“Yeah. That sounds a lot like what you claim they’d know I was doing. You know. When you wouldn’t let me do this kind of things?”

“You were helping Tibs,” Ganny said. “I’m not.”

“So it’s okay to… adjust things if it’s going to kill them, but not to help? Does that mean Tibs was right? I’m supposed to exist to kill them?”

“No, of course not. But like you keep telling me, who’s going to tell them? Tibs?”

Tibs ground his teeth at the pain the claws caused as they cut his arm. He had to stop listening to them, no matter how interesting their conversation was, and focus on the fighting if he wanted to survive it.

He blasted the Dragoling away with a raw jet of water and, as it stood back up. The water steamed off it. So, some of them were also resistant to water. He added to the unending list of things to figure out: making water less susceptible to fire.

He blocked one’s claws, stepped out of the way of a kick, slicing at the leg, and not only did it barely leave a mark, the sword melted around the edge, revealing the metal in it. With a snarl. Tibs stabbed the Dragoling in the chest and yanked up even as the ice melted.

“Something’s happening!” Mez yelled, and Tibs became aware of the fire essence gathering at the back of the attack force.

“Details!” Don yelled.

“I don’t know! I just sense a lot of fire building and I figure that can’t be good!”

Tibs had to split his attention. He threw himself away and formed a wall of ice within the approaching force.

He sensed the etching within the essence, only it was more than he’d sensed any of Sto’s creatures do before. Were these also better at etching on top of… no. He realized the etching didn’t come from one source, but three.

Etching could be done in collaboration?

Ice exploded as a Dragoling pushed through and Tibs growled. He couldn’t afford the distraction.

Everyone was distracted, and this Dragoling was the only one that had broken free. The others all seemed susceptible to water.

Tibs opened the ground under the Dragoling, then closed it. It stopped its fall by catching the edge, so it was only half buried, but that was enough.

“Whatever it is,” he yelled. “You need to stop it.”

“I don’t know if I can. That’s a lot of fire.”

“You’re the only one with fire as an element,” Don said. “Divert it if you can’t stop it. Over us, around us. It doesn’t matter, but I don’t think we can survive whatever they’re etching.”

Tibs saw Mez look in his direction out the corner of his eye, saw the fear. Jackal and Khumdar had regrouped with them, holding the Dragolings away. Tibs nodded. Diverting he could manage. And Don would think it was Mez’s actions.

All he had to do was carefully time his—

The etching bloomed.

With a curse, echoed loudly by Mez, Tibs switched to fire and pushed his will against the essence rolling over the floor, through the Dragolings and at him and his team. He pushed as hard as he could, felt Mez’s fire form a barrier, but it was crude. Mez was powerful, but the etching was built to go through power, Tibs could tell that much, and there was also something making it harder to take hold of.

Or maybe the Dragoling sorcerers were simply that more willful than he was.

Tibs ground his teeth.

Oh, no. He wasn’t letting his team be beaten by a bunch of creatures just because they were able to etch together.

He stopped pushing and slipped his essence between the etching. He added Fey and Kha to make his etching harder and stickier.

Or was it Bor that did that with fire?

He cursed again. He didn’t have the time for indecision.

He pulled as hard as he could.

The etching veered away from his friend with ease, and Tibs realized the Dragoling had only planned against them trying to push it away, not toward one of them.

“Fuck.”

The fire engulfed Tibs, its roar and his pain burying Sto, Ganny, and his friends’ screams.

Fire fucking hurt!

He pushed it away from his body, but that was also harder. That fucking etching resisting even this type of push. Why couldn’t fire be like the other elements he had. Unable to hurt him.

Fine! If he couldn’t push it away. He might as well pull even harder.

He pulled it into him. All of it.

His immense reserve filled to capacity, and Tibs wasn’t done. He suffused himself in fire, and even that wasn’t enough to take it all in. He forced the essence to be denser. And it fell into the channel coursing through his body.

For a moment, his perception of his surroundings changed. He had no idea what it was, but it was different. Something he’d never perceived before.

Then it all went dark.

He was panting. He felt himself doing that. The fire was no longer around him. He sensed that, but he couldn’t tell what was there.

What he did know was that he was burning from the inside out.

He might have screamed as he let the excess essence explode out of him. He didn’t know. It all hurt too much.

Then he was panting again. His hands were against the floor. But he couldn’t feel the texture.

He wasn’t cold, like the last time.

He also knew he wasn’t dying. His reserve was full. What he’d released what the extra that had suffused his body. Filled the channels.

Those had changed.

Great. More, he’d have to deal with that he probably couldn’t ask about because he shouldn’t be able to do this yet. He was getting tired of those.

He sensed Jackal approaching, along with Khumdar and Mez. He couldn’t hear them. Jackal, at least, should be calling for him.

He wasn’t dying, but he was hurt. The fire had hurt him.

He switched to Purity and suffused himself with it.

“—you’re okay.” Jackal sounded scared.

“I’m okay.” Tibs’s voice was raw, not entirely healed. He’d swallowed fire, he realized. He moved his hands and felt the skin cracked. He opened his eyes. No, it was his glove that was cracking. He still had a glove. Two of them. They were burned, parts of them nearly down to nothing, but there were still there. And he felt the weave working already. Repairing the damage.

How long would it take until it was completely healed? Could he help it? Feed it the essence he needed. What essences made up leather?

“Tibs?” Jackal asked, and he looked up. The fighter winced.

“I’m healing.”

“Your face looks like that burned dessert Russel made a while back,” Mez said. “You remember? We had to break and scrub the burned layer to get to the sweet custard.”

Tibs rubbed his face, and his hand came away with flecks of burned skin.

“That doesn’t improve things,” Jackal stated.

Tibs grinned. “But I’m getting there.” He offered his hand to the fighter and Jackal pulled him to his feet.

His armor felt tight. Like he’d worn extra clothes before putting it on. He wasn’t looking forward to taking it off. He looked down at it. He was still wearing armor. But like his gloves, the damage was extensive. He could see his skin in places, a lesser dark than the burned part that was flaking off.

“How?” Don asked, staring at Tibs from where he stood. “No one can survive that kind of fire.”

“I—” Mez started.

“It’s—” Tibs said.

“Your eyes?” The sorcerer sounded scared.

Right. He was channeling Purity. He couldn’t let it go yet, and even if he could, the damage was done.

“I can explain, Don.”

Don looked at him, mouth agape. “You can explain?” he chuckled. “You can explain?” the laughter died, and he glared at Tibs. “What the fuck is there to explain? What are you?”

“I’m me. I’m Tibs, from the streets.”

“No one does this.” Don motioned up and down Tibs. “Survive being burned to ask. Have their eyes take on the color of Purity when it was Water before. Are you something the dungeon made? Some creature that it sent out to spy on us?”

“Can I do that?” Sto asked.

“No,” Tibs replied.

“I don’t think you know what I—”

“I’m not some creature. This is something I’ve…” Tibs trailed off. “After my audience…” he trailed off again. How was he supposed to explain this?

“Wait, after your audience?” Don asked. “You’ve been able to do this since back then?”

“Not all of it,” Tibs replied. “I had to—”

“That’s how you were so fucking better than me? You fucking cheated?”

“I didn’t cheat!” Tibs snapped. “It’s not my fault you didn’t know how this—”

“Don’t fucking put that on me! I did everything the way it’s done. I’m this strong because I fucking worked at it as hard as I can. I’m not some street born rogue who’s cheating his way into power.”

“I didn’t cheat,” Tibs growled. Don was lucky he needed to hold on to Purity because the temptation to blast him with water and force him to cool down was high.

“Oh no. Because the great and mighty Tibs always does things the right way. He never sneaks around doing stuff behind other’s backs. Stealing their success for his own.”

“Don,” Mez said, “that’s not fair, he—”

“He knew about this?” the sorcerer demanded.

Mez looked at Tibs, then away. “Yeah,” he finally admitted.

“You all knew?”

“Don,” jackal said, his voice firm. “Now isn’t the time. I know this is—”

“Oh, you know, do you? You know so well how it’s like to be thought so little of your team keeps secrets from you?” he leveled his gaze on Tibs again. “I guess your ‘no more secret’ talk only applied to me.”

“What did you expect me to do?” Tibs snapped.

“How about be honest, for once in your life?”

“And have you go to the guild with this, use that to make yourself look better in their eyes.”

Don stared at Tibs. “That’s what you think of me?” The disbelief was loud in his voice. “After everything, that’s all I am?”

“What to did you fucking expect me to think, Don? After all the ways you went about hurting me and my team?”

“That was before!”

“Before you abandoned me to Sebastian’s men, you mean? Before you lied your way onto my team? Before what, Don? What the fuck did I have to go by that would prove to me you weren’t going to put your need to be better than everyone about our survival?”

“You said you know he’d told the truth,” Mez said.

“Only that he believed what he said,” Tibs countered. “I can’t know if he’s going to change his mind later.”

“Knew I told the truth?” Don looked perplexed, then stunned. He threw his arms up. “Of course. Why would Tibs Light Fingers stop at three elements? Light, right? What else can you do? What other element did you somehow steal?”

“Alright, this is enough,” Jackal said. “We have a room to clear,”

Don snorted. “Of course that what you care about. Fuck, no wonder you’ve been sticking so close to Tibs. Your man has to be wondering what you get up to with him. He’s how you get all that loot.”

“Leave Kro out of this, Don,” Jackal warned.

“What, scared he’s going to find out you’re with another man and rip your—”

“That’s enough, Don,” Mez snapped.

“Yeah. I guess it is.” The sorcerer glared at them, turned, and walked away.

“Don,” Jackal called.

“Have fucking fun clearing the room,” the sorcerer replied.

“I guess that’s it for this run,” Mez said.

Jackal sighed. “Let’s collect what dropped and leave.” He looked at the dragon, impassively watching back. “It’s not like we were going to make it on this run, anyway. Thanks for saving our lives, Tibs.”

Tibs nodded and started collecting the silver coins. His armor was stiff and uncomfortable, but it was Don’s reaction that discomforted him the most. Once they were out, he’d have to find him and talk him down before he told Tirania everything.

“Are you okay, Tibs?” Sto asked.

“I’m healing.”

“That’s not what I mean. You did something to yourself when you absorbed the fire essence.”

Tibs sensed within. The channels seemed better defined now, or maybe he was simply more aware of them now that he’d felt essence flow through them.

“You must have seen other Runners with them.”

“Yes, but none of them went from those being barely there to entirely there like you did. Drastic changes like that tend to cause damages.”

“It hurt, but it was that or have the fire eat me. Do you know if there’s something I can do so fire will stop hurting me? None of the other elements can hurt me now that I have them.”

“No. That’s one aspect about the elements Ganny doesn’t know about. Maybe you can have another audience with fire and ask?”

Tibs considered that. It should be simple enough to do. Fire hurt him unless he actively controlled it away from him, so like his second audience with Water, it would just be a question of making sure he let the element bring him nearly to death.

And then what, create yet another place around the town with a connection to an element? How many of those could there be before someone started wondering how they were appearing? Were there books explaining how they could be made? Would people looking at them closely reveal he was the one who’d done them?

“Tibs?” Sto asked.

“It can wait.”

Once the coins were collected, they headed out.

Tibs was surprised not to find Don at the entrance to the dungeon. Normally, Runners weren’t allowed to leave on their own. But who in their right mind would try to stop a Corruption Sorcerer from walking off? Especially one with Don’s reputation for vindictiveness?

Tibs sensed him, at the edge of his range already, halfway to the town. He’d catch up to him there.

He attracted stared, with how damaged his armor was, but no one questioned how he was uninjured. The wonder of the healing potions at work. They handed over the magical items they collected, minus the handful of amulets Jackal kept, and the enchanted picks Tibs was planning on selling to Darran.

Then he headed to their room.

Don wasn’t there, nor were there indications he’d been there. Tibs couldn’t sense him, but the sorcerer’s hideout was out of his range. He changed out of his armor and laid it on an unused bed. He didn’t know if it would repair itself in the crapped chest. It had never been damaged to this level.

* * * * *

“Has anyone seen Don?” Tibs asked as he sat at their table. The sorcerer’s seat was unoccupied.

“Can’t you tell where he is?”

“I can’t sense the entire town. And he wasn’t at the house he was in last time.”

“He would recall how you found him there,” Khumdar said.

“Has Don been over?” Tibs asked the server as she placed the plate and tankard before him.

“No.” She thought about it. “The last time he was eating with you.”

That had been two days ago, before the run.

“He’ll turn up,” Mez said.

“Not if he’s at the guild,” Jackal pointed out.

“Wouldn’t they have sent guards to collect Tibs if he’d told them?”

“Maybe he’d letting Tibs worry,” the fighter said. “You know how Don is.”

The guild building was one place his sense couldn’t easily get through. If Don suspected Tibs could track his essence, it would be where he’d go to hide.

* * * * *

As far as Tibs could determine, Don was not in the guild. A training session with Alistair had been a reason to go in. Then walking around was mostly about acting lost when one of the clerks noticed him. He’d sensed one person with Corruption in his wanderings, but that had turned out to be one of the Corruption sorcerers, here filling papers about their research building. Tibs didn’t stay to find out the details.

* * * * *

“Are you sure?” Lamberto asked after Tibs explained the lock.

“What?” Tibs asked.

“Are you sure I’m supposed to use that tension bar with this lock? It seems flimsy.”

Had he told him that? “Which one do you think it should be?”

“You’re distracted.” Lamberto took a thicker one and compared it to the key opening.

“Troubles with one of my teammates.”

“Yeah, those will happen. My brothers are always bickering about the team. Sometimes it sounds like if Father let them, they’d go and form their own teams.”

“Why won’t he?”

“Punishment, I think. Their rivalry played a part in why we had to come here, so he’d forcing them to work together.”

“That’s going to get one of you killed.”

“I don’t think so. Now that we’re doing our runs on our own, they’re realizing we won’t make it through unless they work together, so they set it aside for that.” He smirked. “Then pick it right up once we’re outside. I’m sure your teammate will set whatever problem he has aside when your get your next run.”

Tibs wished he believe that, but after four days unable to find Don, he was worried about whatever he was planning.

* * * * *

“Mister Light Fingers,” the official-looking guild clerk said, coming to a stop by Tibs’s table. “I am requested to accompany you to guild leader Tirania’s office.”

Tibs did his best not to react. The man didn’t look impressive, but his element was Earth and he was near Gamma.

So, this was it. At least he’d been able to enjoy a good meal first. He shook his head as Jackal tensed. They couldn’t win against someone this strong. Tirania would have sent someone able to ensure Tibs went along. He wasn’t sure what it said that she’d only send one person.

The walk to the guild was in silence and two blocks before it came into view, he sense someone with Corruption as their element walk out, turn and walk away. Not toward Merchant Row, so this had to be Don. He’d said what he had to say. Now, Tibs had to figure out how to turn the situation around.

He didn’t want to destroy Don, but if he could make it like the sorcerer had lied because they had a falling out…

That would depend on if the guild had a way to test what element someone had and if it could test if they had multiple elements.

Too many ifs.

Maybe he should just run now, before he was inside.

Only he sensed more people in the surrounding streets with elements. Runners, for certain, but too many were more powerful. This close to the guild, they might just be there because they worked there. Or they were there in case Tibs ran.

Only, running marked him as being against the guild.

Talking with Tirania meant he could still have her think he was her ally. After all, he was just a kid. If he had to admit to what he could do, he could claim to have been too scared to tell anyone.

She’d have to believe him.

Right?

Once they reached the door, his escort knocked.

“Come in,” she said. And Tibs entered.

“Please sit,” she said, reading, her expression serious. The stack under the page she read was thick. Was that from what Don had told her?

Just what had the sorcerer said about Tibs?