The Builder tya-1

by P. S. Power

  “Dorgal… I only wish she just wanted to be my girlfriend. Instead… No, wait here.” Without warning he turned to the dining hall door and popped his head in. “You'll love this, just give me a second.” He spoke quickly, not really knowing what he was doing.

  “Wensa! Come tell these men out here why you keep staring at me, will you?” The woman actually blinked at him and rose without hesitation, her hands going to a small pouch on either side of her belt. She stalked over like a beast of some kind, smooth and sinuous.

  Dorgal looked outraged that Tor would do something other than cower, which made Tor want to laugh. As if any of this was about him. Stupid bully. If Tor could make it about the other man he would of course. Less for him to worry about. Let Wensa and Dorgal dance with each other for a few minutes instead of plaguing him. Confusion to his enemies and all that.

  The Royal Guard captain moved through the door quickly, weapons pointed. Before anyone else could speak, Tor did.

  “Bullies, meet Royal Guard Captain Wensa. Wensa, meet the bullies that think your attentions towards me are amorous. I'll leave you four to discuss your collective plans to “get me” or whatever it is your kind do. And yes, Wensa, I get that you probably plan to kill me over this. But you know what? Either do it, or leave me alone. I have work to do and no time to play with fools that can't see me for what I am.”

  Tor stormed off trying to act offended and haughty, waiting until he got all the way around the corner to start hyperventilating. God, she was going to kill him now. No one had told him he couldn't tell people who she was, but her presence was obviously a secret of some sort. Maybe they'd have to remove her now? Then again, maybe she'd just kill them all to protect her secret? He really needed to get the work done on that shield as soon as possible. Then all he'd have to do was wear it around for the rest of his life. Yeah, that would work. Bathing was overrated anyway, he thought, his skin instantly itching in response to the idea of being unclean.

  That night, instead of sleeping, he decided to get what work done he could on the shield project. After all, the old deadline he'd been set wouldn't make any difference if he was dead, would it? As soon as Rolph went to bed he started working, just sitting in the dark, eyes closed, mentally tracing the sigils that ran the circle, reminding him what he needed to do. Some of the really good builders didn't even have to use sigils at all, holding all the information in their heads perfectly. He could feel the basic patterns with his mind of course, so he didn't need light to see the marks or even to have his eyes open. Each floated in the darkness behind his eyes, a presence rather than a picture. It was enough to work with.

  First the physical protections, he captured the feeling of the needed field in his mind, an object coming towards him deciding to turn back the other way with the exact force it came with. Then he held that sense, let it grow and live, co-existing with the wooden template in his hands. Letting it merge with the wood itself.

  Then the scattering, a hard concept to hold, but one that he found would spread the coherent pattern of any cutter or blast, disrupting it totally. It took longer to establish, because it was just so new to him. It would have been easier if he could have gotten a sense of it from another shield that already existed, but that had been forbidden him. More to the point, he didn't have access to anything like that and never had, so even if he wanted to cheat, it wasn't an option.

  This had to be linked to the next field, the sifting one that kept out particles and then the one for heat. They all had to be held carefully in mind the whole time, each moment letting the whole grow stronger and stronger, then the spread of force into the ground and the other ten ideas he'd come up with for it had to be put into the wood. After eight hours he heard Rolph get up and move around, but he couldn't let the field go. Wouldn't.

  Thankfully it was an off day for him, so he didn't have to go anywhere. He didn't eat or move for hours longer. Finally, once the whole thing became a single concept, once it had merged together as a single entity, one unique being, he let himself get up and go to the restroom. Tor held the concept in mind even as he made his way to the small room at the end of the interior hall. Letting the field go even for an instant would weaken it. He could rebuild it, now that he had the idea of what the whole thing felt like, but it would take hours to get it back to its current strength.

  Better to hold it now, no matter how hard. His mind tried to stray, hours of focus did that to him, but Tor didn't let the idea go, clinging to it as if his life depended on it. This time it just might he knew. It took twice as long to do everything this way, his physical movements slow and careful. Longer than that even. It didn't matter as long as he kept the field going. He had all day.

  Before dinner time Rolph came in, changed his clothing and left without speaking. Then he came back again and slept, the presence oddly reassuring to Tor. He couldn't think about that of course, not consciously, but the deepest part of his mind always felt a little vulnerable when he worked like this. If anyone attacked him, he'd never see it coming. In fact he may never notice it at all, just die. His friend wouldn't let that happen.

  When Rolph got up the next day he opened his eyes and nodded to the man. The field was holding well enough so far. It was too complex to just let go yet, it needed to linger within his focus until it simply wouldn't fade without his attention. But he also had classes. He started to panic for a bit, then turned his mind back to the task at hand. Tor spoke one sentence as Rolph left.

  “Tell them I won't be in today.” It came out sounding flat and dead, but he hadn't meant it as an order. Hopefully it would be enough and Rolph would let them all know what he was up to. If not… Well, he didn't have time to worry about that. He had to survive if they wanted him to go to lessons at all.

  The next day, about the time Rolph was about to leave, Tor stood up. A pitcher of water was next to him, put there the day before most likely. He filled the cup and drank, then kept doing that until the whole thing was empty.

  “Gah.” He croaked, voice sounding like a frog had moved in.

  Rolph gave him a strange look and winced visibly. “I hope all that wasn't for the food dryer idea…” He sounded worried. Almost panicked at the idea.

  Tor almost choked on his reply, a bubble of laughter coming out instead. “This? No, this is that shield project thing. That, the wood piece there on the desk? That's the food dryer. Sorry, I finished it days ago. It works on fruits and vegetables, not meat yet, I didn't want to risk drying out people or whole animals. I haven't put it on metal, but I can… Um, later though, OK? I know that this probably doesn't look that hard, but…”

  Rolph held up a hand and told him to lie down while he went to steal some food for him. Tor decided to just sleep for a bit, hungry but too tired to worry about food. His eyes closed on their own, heavy and almost stinging when he forced them open, so he didn't fight it letting darkness close over him gently. A while later someone, Rolph he thought, shook him awake and made him drink something. It was a thick broth. He almost told him that he wasn't sick, needing invalid food, just tired, but then Tor realized that it wasn't his friend holding the cup, but Trice. Over by his desk Rolph and Sara looked at the food dryer. Playing with it actually.

  “I wonder what the range on this is?” Sara said softly. She wore all black again, kind of a uniform for people in her section he guessed. She looked nice, blond hair long enough to show she was a girl, but not so long that it would be easy to use against her in a fight just a little under shoulder length.

  Pushing the cup away for a second, he swallowed.

  “About a five-foot square. Under the dryer and centered. That's the size of a wagon loading bin. Just, if you're doing that much at once you need to have it in something open on the bottom so it can drain. A mesh or slats or something. The water will just dump out. Probably want to be outside too. I tried a single apple and soaked my notebook. On the good side, it turns out the clothing dryer works on paper too.”

  Trice shook her head and gave
him more to drink. Then she felt his head, so he gave her a hard look. He really wasn't sick and while the broth was good, he just needed to sleep.

  Rolph and Sara both asked him something, sounding excited. Tor thought it was if they could take the food dryer out and test it. He told them yes, to get them all to go away and fell back to sleep. When he got up it was dark out, and Rolph was back in his own bed again, breathing heavily. It wasn't a snore at least. Now, if his brothers could be trusted, he snored, but Rolph didn't.

  Then Tor checked the shield template carefully, activated it and picked up the small cutter he'd built, sweeping it across his arm, hoping the shield worked. No blood rushed forth, so that was a good sign. No pain either, but that didn't mean much. A cutter didn't really hurt, it just separated things. You could lose a finger and not even notice it until the blood became a nuisance. One reason to stick with nice old fashioned knives for most things. At least with them the horrible pain would let you know if you were killing yourself.

  Being quiet he finished the initial testing, trying to burn himself with a candle, inhale the smoke, and even dripping the hot wax on his arm. The wax settled on him after a second of hovering above the field, but it was hard and cool when it landed. Excellent.

  Taking out the ten plates he'd marked for the purpose, little half-hand sized ones in copper, with a basic circle for a sigil, etched in acid again, just because it looked professional. Tor set to making copies of the template carefully. It took about two and a half hours, but gave him ten perfect shields. Each should last for years, unless he screwed up somewhere. It seemed alright. Now all the new field had to do was get him through the test. If he lasted that long with Wensa coming for him.

  All of the shield plates had two little holes punched in them at the top, so that he could run a string or tether through them, letting him wear one around his neck. He didn't know what anyone else did to secure their shields, but that kind of thing could be changed later if needed. The field as a whole was the hard part. Now, even if he had to rebuild the whole thing, he could do it way faster. Changes would be a pain, but nothing too major comparatively. In a very real way he knew the field now, so it was part of him and he a part of it. Someone good enough at doing such things could probably feel his presence even in the copies of any field he'd created as a novel build. Maybe even if someone else had made them.

  After that he laid back down for a nap until morning. Then he could try and test the whole thing carefully and under greater force. If that worked, he could go and see if Kolb wanted to try it out early. If it wasn't good enough then he needed to know as fast as possible. That Wensa hadn't broken the door down to get at him in his sleep was probably just her waiting for a more convenient time.

  When Rolph got up and dressed, before breakfast, Tor stopped him outside in the commons and asked the giant to hit him as hard as he could. He tapped the shield to activate it just in time. Rolph didn't hesitate at all, or ask questions, didn't even blink. The blow came in hard and fast and then… just stopped. The ground under Tor made a soft popping sound, almost a click, but nothing else happened.

  Tor didn't budge at all, which earned a narrowing of eyes and a half dozen more blows and a single kick, all with the same thing happening. Rolph stopped and the ground made a soft clicking sound. Without asking if it would work, his giant friend pulled something from his green tunic and aimed it at Tor's arm at an angle so that it wouldn't hit dead on, and when nothing happened, re-aimed at his middle, getting the same result.

  “Heh! That's good. This lance is, um, special. Technically I'm not allowed to have it at school, and your shield treated it perfectly. If you can stop this, a simple cutter won't be a problem. Ready to have the weapons guys go over it then?”

  Tor really would have liked more testing first, a slow and progressive thing that would show any flaws in a safe environment. Done over weeks or months. On someone else. Ideally Dorgal Sorvee or one of his friends. It was sensible and would hurt a lot less in the long run. Knowing that wouldn't have time to happen with Wensa around he nodded. If you can't be smart, might as well embrace being stupid. He told his friend that he'd go after lunch. Looking around he saw a flash in the corner of his eye that he thought was probably Wensa spying again.

  Damn, he couldn't even walk out of his room unseen for a minute! Did the woman even sleep?

  Morning lessons went well, no one commenting on his having been gone the day before, so Rolph must have gotten the word around for him. That was friendship there.

  Tor wouldn't even know who to go to if he had to do the same thing for Rolph. Wensa probably, which would be a laugh if nothing else.

  Lunch was awkward, and left him feeling uneasy, since a lot of people were staring at him. Some pointing slightly and nudging each other. Petra from the combat training section just smiled at him. It wasn't sinister looking or anything, but she nudged the girl next to her, a familiar sword swinger that had beaten him several times herself, which got both of them to look towards him. Then they started giggling at him. Giggling freaking girl giants. Bleh. Tor had to fight shaking his head at them. Going for a wry grin instead.

  He got that he was a joke to them.

  On the good side Wensa had decided to skip the meal at least. The older woman made him feel like he was about to die at any second. If she crept up on him from behind, his shield wouldn't help at all, it had to be activated to work and that took an act of conscious will, no matter how small. He'd have to get used to either being way more careful or having it turned on all the time.

  He shrugged.

  Everyone had probably heard that he and Wensa were an item now or something, which was laugh worthy at least. The idea didn't thrill him, everyone thinking that, but it beat his only other dating rumor, which hadn't been one at all, just public humiliation without a date being attached. As scary as Captain Wensa was, at least she'd been more polite to him publicly than Maria had been. Way more polite. Given his track record with women, maybe he should send her flowers or something. That would probably get her to run away and not look back.

  Slowly Tor trudged to the practice field and found the square filled with an extra twenty or so people, about half of them instructors. Rolph, Sara and Trice stood next to the old man from the other day and oddly Wensa, who didn't seem happy to see him alive at all. Her hand at pocket as if she wanted to use whatever weapon she had there. Badly.

  Kolb smiled at him and put his hand out towards him slowly.

  “Ready to test your new field? You have a few days yet, about a week actually…”

  “Yeah, but if it's not ready I probably won't live that long. Not with Wensa there plotting to kill me or whatever. Might as well try it now.”

  Kolb looked shocked at what he said, but didn't comment on it. He did stare a little at Wensa whose hand moved all the way in to her pocket. Everyone else started to look at the woman too, except Tor, who took the chance to slap the shield medallion he had on under his shirt. It took an act of will to activate his fields, not physical contact, so a bit of cloth wouldn't stop that. As if in unison with the motion, Wensa pulled out a piece of metal and pointed it at him. Nothing in particular happened, so she triggered it again and again.

  Then, baffled, she pointed it at the new pell and triggered the device once more. The thick wooden log exploded. The only saving grace was that all the pieces flew away from the crowd not just all over the place like some explosives did. Part of the gray stone wall behind it buckled, bowing outward, even as it held its basic wall shape. Everyone stood in shocked silence for a minute. Except Wensa, who put that weapon away and pulled another one, a simple cutter it looked like, from the way she used it, sweeping it back and forth over him.

  “Alright then…” She murmured, and pulled a third weapon. No one moved as she did. It was a good thing too, because fire covered him. It didn't spray towards him, it sprang up around him, hanging in the air itself. He held his breath. The shield held against the heat and even the living flame, but h
e hadn't been able to figure out how to keep the air vital while it burned like that. The fuel this burned was the air itself, or something in the air that he didn't know about, a hot white flame. If she held it on him long enough, he'd suffocate.

  Thankfully, after nearly a minute, about the time when he would have had to try and gasp for breath no matter what else was going on, she stopped. Taking a deep, but slow breath, Tor waited for whatever she had in store next. Oddly it wasn't her that moved, but Kolb. Picking up a practice sword from the low rack with a shrug and a grin, he charged and slammed it across the juncture of neck and shoulder as hard as he could. The ground gave off a much louder crack than Rolph had managed. Then he repeated it for a good twenty minutes, when he stopped he wasn't even breathing too hard, though sweat glistened on his bald head in thick drops.

  “Well, that more than satisfies the requirements for the test except for time on the cutting field, I suppose we can take turns beating you for a while… But I think your design proves out. Especially since the original test was to take place on the pell and not Tor at all… and it was really just supposed to hold against sword blows and cutters, as I believed you knew Wensa? To my knowledge there are no shields that have been made that can do all of this yet. Even asking for physical protection and cutters was pushing it a bit.” The large man stepped back and regarded her closely.

  Wensa smiled at the man and nodded.

  “I knew the field would hold. Besides, anyone making something like this they wouldn't trust their life with, doesn't deserve to live.”

  Trice walked up and threw more of the white powder in his face from about five or six feet back, without warning. It hung in the air and sifted to the ground, not touching him at all. He was able to keep breathing the whole time at least. When it all settled the girl slowly put her hand on his cheek, which, because of the soft and gentle movement made contact.

  She leaned in as if to kiss him, which, he knew, had to be a trick. Because no one ever tried to kiss him. He hopped back just as the knife would have stabbed him in the stomach, causing her to lurch and the knife to stop as she pushed too hard. It could have cut him if it came slow and soft, but the design of the field let him move away from the blade even as it did. A flaw in the shield he knew, but one that he hoped could be worked around.