Splinter Angel Chapter 159 (Patreon)

There was almost a month between the destruction of the demon that took Rill and the end of the cycle. Twenty-five days, to be precise. And while those days were peaceful, with the two births being widely held as the biggest events of those final weeks, that didn’t mean that Ana or the people around her were idle. For all they knew, the Summerlands, the cult of the Lord of Order, or both were marshalling their forces, preparing to invade the Splinter or fall on anyone passing through to Ellsthal. They all needed to be ready.

Part of that was planning, and part of it was preparation. Part of preparing was selling off her Crystals. That was far more painful than she’d expected; Ana had given away a few Crystals, mostly Shards, but selling them seemed… wrong. She knew that selling Crystals was a common way of making ends meet, and how Delvers made most of their money. She’d been holding on to her Crystals despite having enough to get herself to Level 21 specifically so she could sell them. Still, when she stood at the counter at the Exchange, a large pile of Crystals before her and Yildim counting out her money, it felt like she was pawning her future.

At least it made a heaping pile of coins. For clearing out her Storage, Ana received sixty gold coins, a hundred and twenty silver, and a hundred and forty four copper. It was the most silver and gold she’d ever seen outside of a jewellery shop, and enough that Yildim divided it into multiple pouches for her. Knowing something of her background, he also recommended, on no uncertain terms, that she never keep more than about a gold coin’s worth of silver and copper in the purse on her belt, due to pickpockets.

She thanked him, but she wasn’t worried about that. She’d been to Paris and Barcelona and never once got her pocket picked; even here, with her Perception at the level it was, she doubted anyone desperate enough to pick pockets would be sneaky enough to get her now.

Selling her Crystals had been emotionally draining, but quick. The planning was not. Ana spent many long days, evenings, and sometimes nights with both her future companions and the leaders of the Splinter devising and refining plans for various eventualities. They wouldn’t know which plan they’d execute until the day came, but far better to have overdone it on the planning than the opposite.

Thanks to the Wayfarer, they were likely to have a distinct information advantage. Just like the Sentinel, the Wayfarer’s worshippers were everywhere, on every level of society. And while the Wayfarer was only too happy to pass on to Ana anything of value that she might become aware of, Ana and her allies could deliberately include or exclude worshipers of the Sentinel, current or former, in their preparations. It wasn’t perfect, but it was worth it; any disinformation they could possibly con the Lord of Order into passing on to his Ascenders might give them a small edge.

The three final plans that Ana would have to choose between were known only to her and her Party. Her preferred plan would require her to involve a few others on the day, but they were all people she trusted. And if things went to shit and whichever plan they ended up going with collapsed, well, she had a plan for that too. A simple one that would probably leave a lot of people dead, but a plan all the same.

When she wasn’t planning and laying the groundwork for those plans, much of Ana’s time went to training and practice, both in combat and Shaping. She and her Party did more sparring in those days than in Ana’s entire time in the Splinter, focusing more on practicing how to quickly disable and terrify than they did on killing. With any luck they wouldn’t need to fight at all, but if they did, the goal would be to get away, not to leave a trail of bodies behind them.

To her surprise, Ana ran into a little bit of pushback there. Killing, it turned out, was much easier for most of her friends to make peace with than maiming and intentionally causing terrible pain.

“Listen,” she told Kaira after the latter balked at Ana’s suggestion to focus on the waves of flame she’s seen the Evoker use, and to make them just hot enough to set people’s clothes and hair on fire. They were sitting on one of the benches at the training yard while the others sparred, and her friend’s discomfort with the topic was enough that she was having trouble looking Ana in the eye.

“No, really. Listen,” Ana said again, putting her hand on Kaira’s shoulder and putting her Charm and Charisma behind the words. She gave Kaira a moment to look up, and when she did, Ana continued. “You know better than most of us how effective healing and the right salves can be in treating bad burns. Isn’t a few minutes of pain better than killing them?”

“I just… I always wanted to be a Delver,” Kaira mumbled. “Demons don’t care about pain. Neither did the crazies, or changelings, or whatever we’re calling them now… though lighting them up was never the best idea. But, you know, when I’ve had to kill someone, well… I killed them. Blew their chest out or burned their nerves with lightning or whatever. I never even considered setting someone on fire. I can’t…” She stopped and sighed before continuing, “Gods, you’re going to think this is ridiculous.”

“Bet I won’t,” Ana said softly, giving Kaira’s shoulder a squeeze. Privately she made no promises, but Kaira didn’t need to hear that, and Ana resolved to keep any laughter strictly in her head.

“I’m kinda… scared of fire,” Kaira muttered. “Not— I mean, you know what I mean.” She held her hand out in front of her face, and a simple Shaping conjured a flickering flame there. “This is fine. I like this. But my worst nightmares? In my worst nightmares I’m on fire, and I can’t put it out. The thought of doing that to someone…”

“I get it,” Ana said as Kaira’s voice shuddered and trailed off. And she did. In her case it was more a question of her fearing being seen as a sadistic monster, rather than any kind of actual empathy, but she did get it. “And you don’t have to. I think it’s more effective and kinder in the long run than killing them one by one or blowing off limbs, but if it’s going to hurt you as much as them, then I’d rather you didn’t. I don’t care about anyone who comes after us. I need you sane and, preferably, happy.”

“That’s nice of you, I think,” Kaira chuckled awkwardly. “But, I mean, I’ll do what I have to in the moment. Pretty sure I will, anyway, especially with you backing me. I just don’t like thinking about it, you know? It feels too much like I’m planning to, and that’s…”

“Yeah,” Ana agreed. She understood. She didn’t feel it, but she understood that most people would.

Their conversation had been trailing off, but it was brought to a definitive end by a loud yelp from one of the circles. The yelp demonstrated that one person who had no trouble at all with the idea of maiming rather than killing–in her case, hacking at people’s feet—was Jisha.

“Gods fucking beyond!” Tor cursed, stumbling around in a small circle after the girl caught him right on the toes with a slam from her practice polearm. “I think you broke something!”

“Don’t leave your foot open!” Jisha countered, barely holding back her laughter as she put her weapon down and went to help. “Sit, sit,” she said, leading the considerably bigger man toward the bench next to Kaira and Ana’s. ”Get your boot off. I fix the pain.”

Tor clenched his jaw and inhaled sharply as he and Jisha together wrangled his boot off. The toe of his sock was rapidly turning crimson around the big toe, and when Jisha peeled that off she revealed a split nail.

“Water, s’il-te-plaît,” she said to no one, holding up her open hand. Ana put her water bottle in it, and Jisha mumbled her thanks as she rinsed the worst of the blood off before carefully taking the toe in her free hand and focusing. A weak current of mana flowed into the girl as she Channeled, and a moment later Tor sighed with relief.

“Thanks. Gods, that hurt.”

“Be glad it was the toe,” Jisha replied wryly. “You left the… Kaira, what is—” she said a word in Wanteul, “in Inter-guild?”

Kaira snorted. “I’d probably go with crotch, unless you want Tor to pass out from embarrassment.”

“You left the crotch just as open,” Jisha giggled.

Tor ballooned his cheeks theatrically, letting out a slow, whistling breath. “Thanks, I guess. Uh, I think I’m done for today, either way. I should probably get to Touanne.”

“Oui,” Jisha agreed. “Pain, I do fine. Wound… it will heal little faster, but not immediate.”

“Here,” Omda said, seeming to appear from nowhere to offer his shoulder. Last Ana knew, the big man had been at the archery range. “Don’t walk on it.”

“That was a good hit,” Messy told Jisha as the two men left for Touanne’s. “I don’t think he even felt the jab to his guts afterward.”

Jisha shrugged. “Trying to make good habits. Could have missed. But he needs to keep guard up after hit.”

Kaira let off a string of Wanteul that had Jisha giggling. Ana decided she didn’t want to know. “Jisha, why don’t you and Kaira practice some grappling?” she suggested, picking up a practice sword and turning to Messy. “You and me, babe?”

Messy grinned, flourishing her own weapon. “I thought you’d never ask.”

*

There was one aspect of her training that Ana did without any of her friends, and outside of the outpost. Partially because she didn’t want anyone to see her—though Messy knew what Ana was doing—and partially because her training partner wasn’t allowed in the outpost outside of certain times.

It had been Tellak’s initiative. She’d spoken to the mercenary mages, and she’d presented her idea to Ana, who’d agreed after some serious consideration. She loathed the whole pack of them, but she was also stuck in her development as a mage, and no matter how much she practiced on her own or with Tellak’s coaching she just couldn’t seem to break through whatever was holding her back. Well, they had five high-Level Earth-mages camped north of the outpost, and while only one of them wanted anything from Ana except money that Ana didn’t have, she was also the only Metal-mage among them.

So it was that every other morning, an hour after sunrise, Ana met Aaspiyah the Iron Warrior in a small glade only a few minutes into the forest. The two didn’t like each other, and neither of them had any reason to want to change that, but ever since the final fight against the possessed sapient there had been a mutual if grudging respect between them. Each had skills and knowledge that the other wanted, and they were both pragmatic enough to put aside their enmity if it meant improving themselves.

On this particular morning, Aaspiyah was waiting as Ana arrived. “Gods, you’re creepy,” the Iron Warrior said as Ana stepped into the light. “It’s like looking at a fifteen year-old version of myself if I’d been a street urchin.”

“That’s appropriate,” Ana countered. “You look like me if I’d decided that traumatizing Victorian orphans was the career for me.”

“Using made up words doesn’t make you look clever,” Aaspiyah sneered. “Now, where do you want to start? Failing to learn, or failing to teach?”

“Rubbing your face in the dirt for half an hour sounds like a solid start to my day,” Ana replied breezily. “Did you bring any real exercise clothes, or is that what you’re wearing?”

“This is what I’ll be likely to wear whenever I fight, so I’ll be quite happy to train in it as well,” the Iron Warrior replied, smoothing her dress. “Besides, while I’m sure you’re perfectly comfortable in trousers and a tunic, we don’t all have the physique of a malnourished teenage boy. Come now. And slowly! I’m trying to improve here.”

Some people would probably have said that it was a terrible idea to train the mercenary in the fine art of grappling. Messy had certainly been hesitant when Ana brought it up, though how much of that was because she still suspected Aaspiyah wanted to kill her, and how much was Messy’s freely admitted tendency toward jealousy, Ana didn’t know.

To Ana it came down to probabilities. She figured that the likelihood of her or anyone she knew encountering Aaspiyah again was low, and that if they did, they may well be on the same side. From what the captains had told her, Haytham Talleh was unlikely to contract with anyone fighting for the Sentinel’s cause in the future. Apparently he’d been quite angry when he learned the full extent of what the Sentinel’s agents had been doing, and what their plans were for the Splinters.

She also didn’t mind repeatedly tripping, throwing, twisting, locking, and choking the woman who’d intended to murder Messy, even if she did have to do it under the guise of teaching her how to execute or defend against those very techniques. Ana had never considered herself a sadist, but every time she forced the Iron Warrior to tap out it sent a vicious little spark directly to the reward center of her brain. Especially when the woman decided to be stubborn, forcing Ana to push her to the breaking point before she’d submit.

For all her sadistic enjoyment, Ana did make an honest effort to teach. And for all her whining, Aaspiyah was an attentive student. It didn’t take long for her to show marked improvement, and Ana reaped the benefits as her Teaching finally reached Level 5, giving her a Minor Crystal along with her first Perk in the Skill: Hands-On Instruction.

[Hands-On Instruction: Theory has its place, but you are more about demonstration and practice. When teaching any skill through demonstration, personally guiding your student, or in any other physically involved manner, your and your student’s Acuity Multipliers are treated as though they were 1 Step higher. Value increases with Teaching Skill Level.]

Ana’s first thought after receiving the Perk was that its name was going to give Messy all sorts of ideas. Then she laughed softly to herself. Not so long ago that thought never would have occurred to her. Now she couldn’t pretend that she wasn’t looking forward to seeing just what those ideas of Messy’s might be.

Aaspiyah dragged her out of her thoughts with an exasperated, “Hello? I know that you’re not quite all there, but do try not to snap entirely until I’m done with you.”

“No promises,” Ana replied smoothly. “In position. Same as before. And this time, focus on foot placement. You’ll never throw me if you can’t get your center of gravity right.”

“We’ll see about that, tiny,” Aaspiya grumbled. But she did pay more attention to her feet after that.

In exchange for Ana teaching her grappling, Aaspiyah helped Ana with her Shaping. There were several benefits to having the Iron Warrior as a tutor: she was a high-Level Metal-mage; her temperament was, though Ana was loath to admit it, similar to Ana’s own; she was apparently used to teaching new mages, having admitted to doing so before; and she apparently had one of the same Connection Enhancements as Jancia, allowing her to see Shapings as they formed, both her own and those of other mages.

All in all, though she’d never say so, Ana had to admit that Aaspiyah was a better teacher than Tellak. Once Ana had described her problems—the two Shapings she knew having stalled in how effective she could make them, and being unable to make herself heavier no matter how she tried—the Iron Warrior immediately honed in on the same idea as the Wayfarer had.

The difference was, of course, that Aaspiyah was an asshole about it. “It makes perfect sense that you cannot make yourself more massive,” she said. “A pretty little thing like you? I wouldn’t be surprised if you’re currently the biggest you’ve ever been.”

Ana was, but not by much. Not that she’d admit that to this smug bitch.

“You probably can’t even imagine yourself with a bit of a tummy, never mind another fifty, a hundred, two hundred pounds,” Aaspiyah went on. “Oh, wipe that indignant scowl off your face. I don’t care. And fortunately for you, I’ve seen the same problem before. It’s the same damned thing back in Saphahr, with high-born girls who’d rather starve than have their favorite dress altered. I even think that you’ll take to my method better than they did.”

“And what’s that,” Ana asked, not bothering to keep the scorn out of her voice.

“Simple, my dear little dandy! We’re going to make sure that your constructs are as optimal as they can be, and while we do that, we’re going to change how you think about mass.”

It was, as Aaspiyah said, simple. That wasn’t to say that it was easy, but Ana was no stranger to hard work. Optimizing her Shaping constructs meant eliminating bad habits that Ana had built up; Jancia had once said that her constructs were admirably consistent, but that apparently didn’t mean that they were efficient. And that was, it turned out, why the effectiveness of Ana’s Shapings had stalled; with her barely passable constructs stymying the efficiency of the whole Shaping, she could only put so much mana through them before it all started leaking out sides, so to speak. Under Aaspiyah’s surprisingly patient guidance Ana learned to both improve the efficiency of her constructs and to patch the holes where they connected, letting her get away with inefficiencies a little better.

Her hard work paid off. Not only did the efficacy of her Ironskin and weight reduction Shapings improve almost immediately, but within a few days Ana picked up Level 8 in Shaping. Her Channeling Skill remained unchanged, but the mages she knew all told her the same thing: that was normal. Getting more skillful and learning more complicated Shapings did wonders for the first Skill, but for the second, it was pretty much all about volume.

But as good as it was to get better at Shaping, what really made all her mornings with Aaspiyah worth it was when she finally, finally, cracked how to increase her weight.

“You need to stop thinking of it as getting heavier,” Aaspiyah told her. “If you’re anything like the other girls I’ve taught this to, you’ve got a lot of counterproductive associations in your head about weight and not only attractiveness, but many other traits as well. I can’t undo that, but what I can do is give you something else to focus on. Cole, I want you to focus on density. I want you to focus on momentum. I want you to think about the difference between a tumbleweed rolling on the breeze, and a boulder of the same size crashing down a hillside. I want you to think about what happens when either of those hits a wall. I want you to get it into your head that more than anything, mass is momentum. Mass is power. I want you to know, in the deepest core of what makes you you, that with your Strength and your Skills, you are a force of nature. That is already true, and you need to know it. And at three times your mass, no demon, no formation of soldiers, and no wall could stand in your way. You would be unstoppable.”

Ana still didn’t agree with the claim that she was vain. She hadn’t agreed when the Wayfarer made it, and she damn well didn’t agree with Aaspiyah. Ana keeping herself in shape, styled, and well dressed had been entirely for professional reasons, and the way she saw it, she’d let herself go completely since coming to the Splinter. But there was definitely something about Aaspiyah’s framing that appealed to her. Unstoppable. All her life she’d known that her size and weight were weaknesses that she had to compensate for. But Aaspiyah was right, wasn’t she? Ana couldn’t do anything about her size, but if she could double or triple her weight, she’d hit like… well, not a truck, certainly, but a wrecking ball, maybe? She remembered very well her own surprise the first time Aaspiyah had crashed into her, hard enough to almost knock her off her feet. How satisfying would it be to do the same? 

Unstoppable. She even knew the whole song by heart; it had resonated with her from the day she first heard it. How had she never made the connection to her Shaping?

A single revelation wasn’t enough to internalize a whole belief about herself. Of course it wasn’t. But all through her practice, whether Shaping or grappling, Ana kept Aaspiyah’s words in mind. A boulder crashing down a hillside. A force of nature. Unstoppable.

With ten days left until the end of the cycle, she finally cracked it. And while focus and determination did most of the heavy lifting, it was spite that gave her the final push. She was having Aaspiyah practice throws against a charging opponent—Ana had always considered those easy, but Aaspiyah, quite frankly, was taking shortcuts. She was being sloppy with her technique and her timing, using her own Shapings to make herself more massive and thus more stable. Simply put, she was letting Ana partially bounce off her, then using much more strength than she’d need if she’d been doing her throws properly. She was even being lazy about it; she knew Ana’s weight by then, and only put as much force into her sloppy throws as necessary.

Ana kept telling her, but for all her normal attentiveness, the Iron Warrior didn’t correct herself. So the very first time Ana managed to make herself heavier, it was to throw off Aaspiyah’s expectations. She hadn’t even planned to do it. Her thought had been to make herself lighter, so that her student would overdo it and lose her balance, but as Ana put together her modulating Shaping something just clicked.

When Aaspiyah came back from relieving herself and squared up, Ana could feel the difference in the soles of her feet. Inwardly she was alight with satisfaction. Outwardly she told Aaspiyah, “Do it properly this time! It’s your own damn fault if you get your ass handed to you for being too lazy to learn, but I do have some damn pride in my teaching.”

Aaspiyah just snorted and made a come at me gesture with her hands, something she’d picked up from Ana during their weeks of classes. And Ana came at her. She did nothing differently from normal, going in for a tackle the way she had time and time again. She could feel the slight difference in the resistance against her muscles as she ran, the slight increase in the friction of her feet against the ground, but she had enough control over her own body that to Aaspiyah, nothing should have been out of the ordinary. And just as Ana had expected, the other woman moved too late, letting Ana hit her to bleed off some of her speed and momentum before going in for the grab.

The way her eyes widened when the impact knocked her back a step tickled something deeply unworthy inside Ana. Then, of course, Aaspiyah grabbed her, really put her back into it, and threw Ana into a bush. Ana let her do it; she was too damn pleased with herself to care.

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