N. Francis
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81. The color of Violence is Violet
🕑 Added 2025-04-09 14:00:10 +0000 UTCAuthor's Note: I for the life of me can't figure out how to format this so paragraph spacing appears correctly on mobile, so I apologize if things like interface pop-ups bleed into the rest of the writing as one endless block of text.
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“I still don’t see why you didn’t push harder. I’m sure they would have let us tag along if you really sold our case!” Marcie bemoaned, throwing several depressed jabs and uppercuts as she shadowboxed an imaginary foe.
“You know that’s stupid,” Manda grumbled as a gecko made of shadows sniped a passing bug out of the air. “She wasn’t going to be that selfish. And are we still talking about this? It’s almost been two weeks.”
“What Manda said,” Violet finally sighed, shaking her head at her two teammates. “We’re the only tier-fives in all of Ehkorrus. What would happen if something attacked while we were gone?”
“They’d be fried into crispy monsters?” Marcie offered with a half-smile. “Nothing short of an upper tier-six monster is going to be capable of punching through these walls even if they’re undefended, tier-seven if we’re actively manning them.”
“You know what Mr. Rory would say about that,” Violet countered.
“Well… Not really?” Marcie scrunched her nose up. “Honestly, I barely interacted with the guy after the initial year. Anytime you see him, he’s either mumbling or grinning like a maniac or locked up with Gil and Mariah working on something. Those two might be able to tell you what he’d say, but me? Not really.”
Violet opened her mouth to counter her rebuttal before she also clammed up. She wasn’t wrong, and while she interacted with Mr. Rory more than even her teammates, he really had been elusive these last few years, or perhaps distant was the correct word, as if his mind never stayed in the current moment for more than a brief instant, eternally looking to something she couldn’t perceive in the future.
“That’s just how he is. With so many of you all now, you don’t get that same one-on-one time I did. Spend more time with him, and you understand, at the end of the day, he’s still somewhat of a normal person.”
Violet shook her head at the memory of a conversation with Apostolos, the thought of Apostolos sending a thrill up her spine while also eliciting a rather severe scowl.
“Oh, there she is, thinking about our dear Chief Protector again,” Marcie teased, giving her a poke in the shoulder from across the table.
“You don’t know that,” Manda snapped back before Marcie rolled her eyes.
“Oh please, she’s so easy to read. And you, Mr. ‘Why couldn’t it be me’ Perhaps you should start moving on from the heartache of unrequited love.”
“Guys, please, not here.” Violet hissed at them, raising her hands like she was placating an animal, unwilling to deal with her teammates… behaviors so publicly.
Manda glanced away sheepishly, unable to look her in the eye. In contrast, Marcie puffed her chest up, feeling rather proud of herself for poking the bear.
“You’re both morons.” Violet finally sighed before Marcie snorted with eyes full of mischief.
“You even sound like him.” Marcie snipped, unable to hide her smirk.
“Ugh, I’m going to check with Gil and see if he’s finished my order.”
“Running away,” Marcie said with a sing-song voice that annoyed Violet fiercely but would be admitting defeat if she ever said as much.
Leaving the dining lodge, Violet crossed the burgeoning city, considerably larger than her first days on Aelia. She waved at a few people as she crossed through Ehkorrus; with nearly fifty people living here now, she would inevitably see a few during her stroll.
Making it to the forge, Violet took a moment to examine the facility. The pride and joy, the crown jewel of the workshop, was the Stellar Forge, the star pulsating within a magnetic field and surrounded by miniature planets, the entire thing mimicking the appearance of a solar system.
As for how she knew what a solar system looked like, that was entirely from the grueling efforts of clearing the Trial of Space, something she’d only managed earlier that year.
While the Stellar Forge was a testament to the monster that Mr. Rory was, creating and harnessing the power of a literal star as nothing more than a fancy forge, it wasn’t all there was to the Forge workshop. Further back, numerous mundane forges utilized the excess heat of the Stellar Heart to keep them stoked, several grinding wheels, some areas for quenching and tempering, a few anvils, and if you passed through a small side room there were resource processors that allowed them to produce vast amounts of higher quality materials without being forced into manually refining them.
Most important was Gil himself, standing in front of the Stellar Heart. Twenty-one years of age, he’d filled out considerably compared to their first year upon Aelia, between puberty and spending all his time hammering away at things. Standing well over six feet tall, his arms were like metal-coiled ropes, and a gruff patch of facial hair could be spotted in a mishappen and burnt arrangement half of the time. As much as the short stack had shot up like a human beansprout, the strangest thing about him was that occasionally, he’d suddenly shrink down to no taller than four feet even, his already thick chest and arms widening considerably so that he looked like he could break uncommon grade metal between his hands.
“Oye, there you are,” Gil noticed her standing as he walked over, shrinking down with each step as he did. “I finished your order this morning.”
“Perfect timing,” Violet said with a smile as she quickly crouched to hug Gil.
“Uff, none of that,” Gil groaned, even if he didn’t pull away from the hug. “You’re lucky you’ve got the Merit credits you do.”
“Uh-huh, not like the only others with anywhere near as many were Manda and Marcie themselves,” Violet chirped.
“Still, that little order of yours was damn pricy,” Gil responded. “With Me, Mariah, and Ms. Viviann working on it, that’s basically only two rungs down from the boss man himself taking up the project,”
“Two rungs?” Violet asked curiously. “Not one?”
“Nah, we’d have needed old man Kal for the collaborative effort to be a single rung beneath boss Rory. With the four of us, even with all your merit points, that still wouldn’t have been something you could easily afford.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Violet said with a sigh. “Also, do you really have to refer to Mr. Rory as Boss Rory all the time?”
“He’s the boss man,” Gil said simply enough as he folded his thick arms one over the other. “We owe everything to him.”
“And it’s not at all because of that fact that he’s basically your hero.” Violet teased.
“Shut it,” Gil grunted, glancing away. “Anyway, how could he not? You’ve seen the stuff he makes.”
Violet knew Gil had a point there. Everyone knew, in fact. Gil was a true blacksmith, Mariah could whip up concoctions or transmute materials like a real witch, Viviann could understand Runic Inscription in a way that to others seemed like a jumble of disorienting hieroglyphics, and old man Kal had an eye for Gem Crafting that all but his single apprentice he’d taken under his wing the year prior had lacked.
Yet, Mr. Rory could do it all. It’s part of what made his gear so potent. Something crafted by the collaborative work of Gil, Viviann, and Mariah was pretty dang good, there was no doubt about it, but to use phrasing that Gil would have appreciated, it was like taking three discontinuous pieces of metal and welding them together, edges and cliffs in how they viewed and understood things that didn’t bridge to each other’s works.
Mr. Rory’s work, meanwhile, was like a sculpture chiseled out of a single piece of stone. No jagged or discontinuous edges were forced to fuse together, just pure harmony.
Or that was how any of the four artisan Leads would have said it, albeit in their own words.
“Anyway, going back to ‘yer order,” Gil promptly changed the subject. “If you’ll follow me.”
As requested, Violet followed Gil to where he stored his projects, unlatching it and opening the chest to reveal a pair of gloves.
Saying the gloves were ‘just’ gloves was doing them a disservice. They were woven with a silvery-white material with tubes that almost looked like veins running down each finger and linking into a cuff that would settle roughly halfway up her forearm. Within the tubes was neon blue fluid, like some ionic blue plasma. Approximately eighty percent of the gloves were covered in segmented plates of deep purple, nearly black material, with barely perceptible runes inscribed throughout.
“Tada,” Gil said with a rather deadpan flourish of his hand, trying to be flashy about his display while simultaneously being one of the least flashy people she knew. “Gloves of the Firefly. Give ‘em a check.”
Gloves of the Firefly
Grade: Uncommon
Gloves woven with Ember-scale silk and armored with Pyroxene Ceramic plates. These gloves have been inscribed with runes for attunement, heat manipulation, and scattering. They contain closed channels of a modified Liquid Fire solution that has been further attuned with an affinity toward Morning Fire.
“They’re wonderful,” Violet said with a smile as her curiosity got the best of her. “By the way, what’s Pyroxene Ceramic? I’m already familiar with Ember-scale silk since I’m the one who harvested the scales of those Ember Moths. Still, I’ve never heard talk of Pyroxene.”
“Good eye,” Gil said with a large grin. “It’s a material entirely of my own making. Or, mostly of my own making, I did need Mariah’s help for a bit of it.”
“Go on,” Violet prompted.
Gil nodded as if approving of her desire to understand the world of material science. “So, basically, I took some of our learnings from our big ole project with boss Rory-”
“The stuff you’ve all been working on the last few years?”
“Aye.”
“Alright, continue,”
“Anyway, to cut out the technical crap, it turns out in alchemy there are ‘givers’ and ‘takers’ as Mariah described ‘em. Liquid Fire? Giver. Running Ice? Taker. But there are also neutrals. Interesting thing ‘bout neutrals, you can supercharge ‘em. It causes a bit of a form change, an ‘alchemical tempering’ to borrow Mariah’s words again. Certain neutrals, such as metals, are way more costly to supercharge. It’s impossible without the full release of the Stellar Forge, something only Boss Rory has permission for. Not that I’d want to try anyway; I’d probably die trying to contain that much energy. For nonmetals, it takes way less energy to supercharge a neutral. I took that idea and ran with it; I had Mariah pick through some minerals and the like for neutrals, and from those, I gathered ones I figured would play nice. After that, I fired ‘em up with the partial release of the Stellar Forge, ground ‘em down, mixed ‘em in a solution, and then fired them up again, this time in a regular kiln: boom, Pyroxene Ceramic. It’s more brittle than regular metal, so I wouldn’t suggest using them as regular armor unless you’re in a pinch. In return, it has some serious heat resistance and Pneuma conductivity.”
“Dang,” Violet whistled as she let the information deluge sink in. “And Viviann inscribed them after?”
“Sure did. Now, had boss Rory done it all himself, the final product would probably have been Greater-Uncommon grade. Still, I think between myself and the others, we did a damn good job.”
“You did,” Violet confirmed, wanting to give her chosen family a metaphorical pat on the back.
“And as you requested, you can let it build up passive attunement to your Morning Fire affinity or use generic fire in a rush.”
“Great,” Violet said with a smile. Once upon a time -less than a year ago- her affinity had been generic fire. That had changed with her reward for clearing the Trial of Space; she’d received a concentrated marble of ‘Morning Light’ that had promised to plant the seeds of a more profound conceptual strength to her affinity than generic fire.
Apostolos had told her to go for it, to risk assimilating the marble of Morning Light into herself. Taking the risk, her affinity for fire had transformed into an affinity for Morning Fire, invigorating blue and white flames that could also scorch with intense heat.
“’ Yer scowling’ again.” Gil pointed out, dragging Violet out of her thoughts.
“No, I’m not,” Violet said defensively.
“Yeah, y’are.” Gil seemed deep in thought before nodding to himself. “Mr. Apostolos?”
“Gah!” Violet grunted, for a moment wanting to strangle Gil. “Why do you all go straight to that?”
“Because when he’s done something that you like, you smile off into the distance like a creepy doll.”
“Did you just call me a creepy doll?”
“And when he’s annoyed you, you tend to scowl a lot,” Gil said, ignoring her question.
“Bleh,” Violet stuck her tongue out childishly at Gil.
“What’d he do?” Gil offered, willing to be the venting soundboard.
“I don’t know,” Violet muttered before Gil glanced at her knowingly.
“Fine. I can’t figure him out. I’m sure he knows I like him. Yet he keeps me at arm’s distance. Then we danced at that celebration festival…”
“Right,” Gil said, nodding sagely.
“He still thinks I’m sixteen. I’m twenty-two! I’m not a child anymore, but he treats me like one!”
“Uh-huh.”
As much as Violet felt the urge to really lay in thick with the rant bubbling to the surface, she stopped when something flickered directly in front of her line of sight.
“That’s not good,” Violet muttered as Gil looked at her in confusion.
“You get some sort of notification?” Gil questioned.
“Something like that,”
Emergency Event: Sudden Assault
See the City Coordinator for further details.
“I’ve got to check in with Irene,” Violet announced as she snatched the gloves, pulling them on. Gil gave her an odd look before shrugging.
“Sure, just a quick rundown on ‘yer gloves. They’ll facilitate using fire-based magic and blunt the heat from using so much fire. You can drain the stored attuned Liquid Fire in a pinch for a short-term boost to your physical attributes, but it will feel like hell the entire time.”
“Got it,” Violet said before she turned around and took off, quickly jogging to the storage warehouse, where Irene could be found most days. As she ran, Manda and Marcie appeared running next to one another, clearly heading to the same place as her.
“You two get the notification as well?” Violet asked.
“You betcha,” Marcie answered, vibrating with excitement.
“Simmer down, would you?” Manda scowled at Marcie, who rolled her eyes.
“What do you think it’s about?” Marcie asked Violet, ignoring Manda.
“Your guess is as good as mine. If I had to guess… it’s been long enough now that Mr. Rory and the others should have arrived at the Architect Bane’s lair. Seems a little too coincidental, no?”
It was enough that even the excited Marcie took a more serious expression. It had been just before their arrival, but they’d heard the stories from Apostolos about the first Siege Wave that had assaulted Ehkorrus. Even though it had been the first in the gauntlet, they’d made it well known that it had been far more perilous than the six that had followed over the next six years.
Only a minute later, they were standing in front of the warehouse where the bulk of the city’s resources were stored. Irene stood outside with her arms crossed. She wore a serious face; her arms crossed over her white blouse as she stared them down.
“We’ve got a problem.”
“I can see,” Violet responded smoothly.
“An attack is coming.”
“An attack?” Marcie asked. “How do you know?”
Rotating her wrist like she was turning something around to show them, she saw an interface with a bird’s-eye view of the region in which Ehkorrus was located.
“What’s with the black dots?” Marcie questioned.
“Those would be invaders,” Irene said with a sigh, her hand shaking slightly. “Thanks to Mr. Rory’s work on the walls, we’ve got a pretty good picture of the area for several miles out in any direction utilizing -in his words- ‘Pneumic Sonar,’ which works by sending out occasional pulses of Pneuma and then painting a picture based off the results.”
“How’d he come up with that idea?” Manda muttered.
“His brain is strange,” Violet said instantly before shaking her head. “Not the point. So, because of this sonar thingy, we got an early warning that we’re about to be attacked. I’m assuming-”
“We don’t have much information regarding our would-be attackers, but we know they’ve got traces of the Chosen Bane upon them.”
“Why is this a problem?” Manda asked. “Our walls should fry them, right? Yeah, the Void-Walkers were no pushovers from the stories told, but the walls back then were considerably worse, and they’d been breached. This isn’t a full siege wave, and while there are-” He took a moment to count the dots before shaking his head. “-a lot of them, there sure aren’t thousands.”
“And that’s where the problem is, I assume,” Violet answered.
“Correct,” Irene said with a nod of her head. “One thing we are getting is odd pings from here-”
She pointed to a blank spot on the map, eliciting a confused look from Marcie.
“What’s the problem? I don’t see anything.”
“That is the problem. Look at the nearby clusters. Isn’t it odd that there is, for whatever reason, nothing in this specific spot that also appears to move closer to us?”
“Something that invalidates Mr. Rory’s work.” Violet slowly said, letting the words sink in. “It’s in the damn name, the Architect Bane. It likely created some sort of counter to Mr. Rory’s work.”
“My guess as well.” Irene agreed. “Taking a shot in the dark, they must have recently launched their attack on the Architect Bane’s lair. In response, a counterforce was sent to attack us.”
“Why? What point is there?” Manda asked.
“A diversion and distraction, or just pure pettiness, take your pick,” said Violet. “The point is, we’re under attack, and they’ll be here shortly. Truthfully, we don’t have anyone close to strong enough to hold them back aside from us three. Of the tier fours we do have, fifteen, only four are combat types, the rest are non-combatants.”
Irene raised her hands with a shrug. “Guilty as charged, I’d be monster food out there.”
Violet wanted to pace around, suddenly feeling like a ball of nerves.
If only we had pushed some of them to become combatants or pushed our fighters harder, we could’ve had maybe a few more tier-fives.
“Round up the tier four combatants,” Violet said after a moment of consideration. “They don’t have to be on the frontline, but if they can dish out any damage from afar, it helps. We’ve got enough bows that even if they don’t have any form of long-ranged combat skill, they can still send an arrow down range.”
“And the emergency measure?” Irene asked, looking at Violet as the de facto leader for combat situations while Apostolos was away.
“No, keep it locked up. We’ve heard the warning from Mr. Rory. Using one without being capable of similar power yourself is asking for E.O.N. to send a tier-eight monster to tear down Ehkorrus, and even if Mr. Rory, Apostolos, and Eia were here, a tier eight would still eat us for lunch. It’s an absolute last-case scenario.”
“What about the citizens?” Irene questioned.
“They’ve got three tiers of walls between them and the invaders, but keep all combatants, regardless of tier, and tier four non-combatants on alert. Also, see if Mariah has any brews prepared that we could pilfer.”
“She won’t like giving those up for free,” Irene countered.
“Well, tell her she’ll get triple the merit credit of whatever their value.” Violet snapped. “With that many credits, she can hire people to gather any resources she might want to make better brews.”
“Fair,” Irene agreed. “I’ll have Gil bring some temporary armor if any of you need anything and offer the same deal.”
“We should be fine in that department, anyway-” Violet waved her hands, showing off her new gloves. “Just got some near gear earlier. The tier fours being recruited for wall duty may need that offer, though.”
“Done. Anything else?”
Violet thought momentarily before nodding, a wolfish grin across her face.
“See if old man Kal has any unstable crystals around. I may not be Mr. Rory, but that doesn’t mean we can’t borrow a bit from his style.”
