When I return home, still shaking from the adrenaline of speaking my escape plans aloud, I find a little note pinned to the front door. It’s from the Silaraon City Academy, stamped with their official initials: SCA. There are no other markings on it other than my name. I slip inside my little cabin, tear open the wax seal, and scan the contents of the odd message. With a start, I discover that it’s from Rakesh, not Ezio.

I’ve come across something of interest to you. Can’t say more. Meet me at SCA ASAP.

Ho? Now that’s surprising. I tap my chin as I think over the implications of his message. I have enough irons in the fire right now, as Mikko likes to put it, but there’s something about the cryptic nature of the note that intrigues me. Maybe I’m just getting into the excitement of secret plans and daring escapes.

I’m still not sure if I’m under active surveillance, but after a brief moment of deliberation, I decide to take a risk and visit the Silaraon City Academy before the day is over. Tomorrow, I’ll be back at work. Normal school hours will resume at the SCA. This is my best chance to learn what’s got Ezio’s young [Secretarial Researcher], Rakesh, so excited.

By the time I arrive at the distinguished grounds of the academy, the warm summer air of the afternoon is already fading into memory. The skies are now overcast with a pallid, unnatural film that occasionally pulses through with color, like the sheen of a soap bubble or an oil spill on water. I frown, looking up at the chaotic storms. They’re circling back around Densmore, which explains the army’s push to make Silaraon their base of operations. The guards at the SCA’s gate are looking up, too, their expressions split between fear and resolute determination. I nod to them as I march through the entryway, although I curse my lack of foresight under my breath for not bringing a light jacket. The evening walk back to my cabin will likely prove cold and blustery.

I see myself up to Ezio’s office, since I don’t actually know where Rakesh works. He’s young enough that he probably still lives in the academy apartments, but I’m unfamiliar with the way to the dormitories, and I don’t feel like talking with strangers along the way. My best bet is to ask my friend and mentor for directions. The thought of calling Ezio my friend, and truly meaning it, brings a smile to my face. If Ember never put us in touch, my life would have turned out radically different. I should tell her thank you before I leave.

As always, contemplating my departure puts a lump in my throat, and I miss a step on the stairways up to Ezio’s office. This is the only home I’ve ever known. I’m no longer a baby fledgling in the nest, I tell myself sternly. It’s time to spread my wings. I brush away the stray depressing thoughts as I arrive at the [Scholar]’s office moments later, knock on Ezio’s door, and slip inside when he answers with a feverish look of excitement on his face.

Ezio beams at me. “Nuri! I didn’t expect to see you so soon when Rakesh said he couldn’t find you. I take it that you got his note?”

“I should have known you were in on the conspiracy. I’m always the last to know about anything,” I say, shaking my head woefully in mock dejection.

“Yes, well, knowing things is what we do! At least you get to do things that matter. All we do is read dusty old books and come up with theories. Ever realized we envied you? Hm?” Ezio says, looking down his nose at me in a professorial way for a scant second before he returns to sorting through a haphazard stack of papers. I know he’s happy, lost in his research, and I can’t help but think that the envy goes two ways. I don’t have the mind for it, but sometimes I wish I could spend all day learning and thinking, instead of making things and getting into trouble.

“Fine, fine! We each have our specialities,” I allow, my lips quirking up into a small smile. I have to admit, it’s nice to feel envied—it’s a sign of how far I’ve come that someone whom I respect wants to be like me. “Although, I do wish I had more time to study with you. I’m not as well learned as I’d like to be. My schooling never quite agreed with me, and I didn’t put in the time to learn to love academics. I regret that, some days.”

Ezio folds his hands together, a kind smile on his face. “Learning is an entire lifetime’s journey, my young friend. Some start early, some start late—but there’s no reason why you can’t put one foot after another and see how far you get. There’s no telling where you’ll end up!”

I nod gratefully. “Thank you, Ezio. I appreciate your encouragement. You’ve done so much for me already, and I’ll always be indebted to you. I can’t imagine what more you and Rakesh have to offer.”

“I’ll call him in. This is as much his find as mine. He deserves to be the one to tell you the fascinating news,” Ezio says, warming to the topic at hand. He taps on one of the many runes inscribed on the top of his desk, and a faint, resonant chime rings out. I’m not entirely sure how the esoteric system works, but Rakesh apparently gets the message, since he lets himself into the office a few minutes later. He’s huffing heavily, sucking in air like he ran the entire way as soon as received the arcane summon from Ezio, a stark departure from his usual decorum.

“Nuri! You’re never going to believe what I’ve found!” Rakesh practically shouts. His cheeks are flushed with the exertion, or perhaps excitement, and the sheer level of energy the normally staid [Researcher] is putting out is infectious. I find myself swept up in his enthusiasm, my heart beating more quickly at the thought of some big revelation.

“Ah, ah! Wait until we have more privacy,” Ezio cautions, holding up a finger to forestall Rakesh, who’s pulling out a pile of notebooks from his book bag.

Ezio pulls up his full-powered wards, his fingers flicking between the control runes on his desk in a rush of complex movements. The light through the windows dims, and a heavy feeling settles over us, locking out scrying and listening spells. He claps once in satisfaction when he’s done, licking his lips as though he’s about to indulge in a tasty treat. I suppose, for the [Scholar Nonpareil], esoteric knowledge qualifies as the juiciest of morsels.

“Now, we have a few leads on a rather delicate topic, but I have run into dead ends and I’ll need more time to put all the pieces together. I had hoped to present you with personal notes from a [Master Glass Smith] to help you progress on your crafting path, but I simply can’t afford the [Secure Information Broker]’s exorbitant fee to keep following the clues I’ve dug up. It’s like trying to prise a gem from a dead man’s hands.”

Ezio trails off with a sad sigh, and only now do I look closely enough to notice the heavy, purple bags under his eyes, and the too-bright, almost feverish look on his face. Stubble grows on his hollow cheeks, unshaved for at least three or four days. He’s on a mission, and I suspect he’s burning through academic Skills to stave off sleep and continue his breakneck research pace. It hits me again how much he’s expended on my behalf.

“Don’t burn yourself out on my account,” I say, although his peeved expression makes me think I’ve misstepped. “I mean, I truly appreciate what you’ve done, but please don’t feel compelled. Almost everything I’ve learned lately that’s worth knowing is thanks to you. You’re a good friend, and I feel guilty over how much time and energy you’ve invested into me. I can’t repay you.”

He waves off my deflection, suddenly grinning again. “Young man, it’s a privilege to help my students. And no information is hidden for long! They didn’t account for my best assistant. I did all the legwork, but Rakesh figured out the rest. Now we’re just catching you up to speed, so don’t worry about me burning out.” He leans closer, his breath hitching before he blurts out the words that explain why he’s insisted on warding the office before continuing. “We believe we have found a Master for you to study under. But you’ll have to earn your spot.”

While I’m reeling from the revelation, much to my friends’ delight if their sly grins are any indication, Rakesh elbows me in the ribs and chimes in. “How do you feel about traveling?”

I glance at Ezio, who doesn't respond, leaving me to mull over how much of my current predicament I want to share with Rakesh. I take a deep breath, puff up my cheeks with air like a squirrel hoarding acorns, and then let it out in a long, slow breath. “Funny you should mention it, but I’ve been meaning to get out of town anyway. It may not be safe for me to stay in Silaraon much longer. What do you have in mind? And how in the abyss did you happen to track down a glass Master, anyway?”

Rakesh smiles even wider than I thought possible, almost unbearably smug. It’s likely not often that he gets to brag about his academic accomplishments to someone outside of the SCA. “Now, that’s a fascinating story. But let’s start with a question for you in return. Are you up for a challenge? If you want to study with this teacher, then you’ll need to win a competition to prove your glass skills.”

“I’ll do my best, but I can’t guarantee that I’ll win without knowing more about the nature of the competition,” I say, my mind still spinning between the dangers of escaping town and the sudden allure of a new, unexpected goal that I want more than anything.

Rakesh rubs his palms together, an affectation that he’s clearly picked up from Ezio. Like teacher, like student. “We’ll cover the entry fee if you agree to help me with glass projects in the future, much like you and Ezio are developing glass armor together.”

“There’s an entrance fee?” I turn toward Ezio, shifting my weight from foot to foot. “But nothing comes for free. What do you get out of this if I win? I already owe you for—”

“Just shut up and listen for once in your life,” Ezio scolds, although not unkindly. “Let us do something nice for you if we want to, Nuri. Besides, if it works out, then we’ll receive our due rewards in time.”

“Now that I've completed my undergraduate studies,” Rakesh says, jumping in before I can muster up further protests, “I receive an annual stipend for my graduate research project. This year, I would like to make an investment in your future in exchange for writing an academic journal paper about the experience. Naturally, I expect some remuneration.”

“You want to document my learning process? How does that help you as a [Researcher] or a student?” I say, frowning at his business proposal. “I’m afraid I don’t follow. It seems like a poor investment. I’m still not sure I’ll be able to pay you back, even if my glass armor is more popular than expected..”

“How confident are you in your glass skills?” Rakesh answers, catching me off guard.

I cross my arms, eyeing him uneasily as I try to figure out where they’re going with this. But my professional pride won’t be denied, so I lift my chin and look him in the eye. “I’m the most talented traditional glassmaker in town. With my new Skills? I could probably open my own studio and pull business away from Ember, if I wanted to burn bridges.”

“If you're as good as you say you are—as good as Ezio and I think you are—then I'd like to sponsor you in a competition. You win, you’ll be able to pay me back threefold. If you lose?” Rakesh shrugs his bony shoulders, lifting them up by his ears. “Well, I’ll still be able to present my research methods to my professors. Ezio’s my sponsor, and he already approved this as my capstone project, so I’m not taking much of an academic risk.”

I copy his exaggerated shrug, earning an eye roll. “All right, let’s say we move forward with this arrangement. What do I need to do?”

“The winner of this competition earns the right to bid for his own glass studio and teachings from a mysterious benefactor. Winning one of the various local competitions doesn’t guarantee that you’ll get the reward, but it ensures that you’ll get to bid for the grand prize.”

“Wait, there's bidding after the competition? I’m not paying more money to buy studio time, even if it’s with a Master. How exactly are you supposed to afford that with your student stipend—no offense, but I don't think academy students are particularly wealthy.”

Rakesh laughs. “None taken. You’re not bidding with money to buy time directly; you’re bidding with ideas. Winning gives you a token that’s apparently inscribed to present your entry to an exclusive circle of clientele. As discussed, I’ll pay your entry fee to the competition. You still have to win, and then trade in your winnings for a glassworks proposal. The best proposal of the bunch will secure funding to commission the piece.”

“So, winning the glass competition is just the first step. Then I have to present the best proposal and hope it’s enough for them?” I snort. “Who came up with this system? Probably academics. Too much brain power, not enough common sense.”

Ezio wags his finger at me for the backhanded compliment “There are little competitions happening all across Densmore—the contest has been open for nearly a year, but we still have a little time before the deadline. Originally, I discarded the challenge as a possibility for you, but that was before two key developments: first, your Skill set, [Way of the Artisan: Architect of Unseen Worlds], and second, Rakesh‘s impeccable research. If not for his help, I never would have realized the true value of the challenge.”

“Which is?” I ask, rolling my hand in the air to motion him onward with his story.

Ezio pauses, looking at me with disappointment. He digs through his papers until he finds a flyer, shoving it at my face. “Studying with a Master, Nuri! That’s not in the rewards list.”

I blush furiously at my display of slow thinking, hiding my reaction by burying my face in the flyer and skimming its contents. “Right. Where’s the studio, though? This doesn’t say. I’m happy to get out of Silaraon, but if this takes me to the capital, I’m not doing myself any favors.”

“No one knows,” Ezio says mysteriously, lowering his voice for effect. “No one except for my brilliant [Secretarial Researcher], that is. He cracked the code!”

“So . . . we don't actually know where the studio is?” I ask, caught between intrigue and skepticism. The sparse details make me dubious, but Ezio and Rakesh are sticklers for doing their research. If they vouch for the competition, then I can probably trust that it’s legitimate. I scratch my nose, lost in thought for the span of a few heartbeats, and finally give voice to my next question. “What makes you so certain that I'll be able to win with my proposal?”

“Because, my dear Nuri,” Ezio says with a downright sinister chuckle, no longer able to contain himself, “we are going to cheat!”

“Cheat?” I splutter. “That's the surest way to get kicked out of the competition if they catch us—catch me. Why would you even suggest such a risky move?” My eyes narrow in suspicion. “What else do you have? You’re holding out on me still.”

“Tell me, Nuri, have you ever heard of the Glass Lion of Densmore?” Ezio asks me. He shakes his head. “I don't even know why I’m asking—of course you have! It’s one of the relics of the Kingdom. Every child learns the tales of Densmore’s legendary glass protector.”

I burst out laughing. “You want me to make a small-scale replica of the Glass Lion of Densmore? You’re out of your mind! Even if I pushed my [Architect of Unseen Worlds] Skill to the maximum, I don't think I could transmute enough glass to make it look convincing. And that's only the start; I lack the ability to imbue mana into my work, despite my best efforts to suss out how to make that work. How would I ever copy the effects of an artifact like that?”

“Finished yet?” Ezio asks mildly. His eyes are still twinkling with merriment, which makes me think he's got another trick up his sleeve.

I nod meekly and flop into one of his overstuffed easy chairs, kicking my feet up on the ottoman while I wait for the rest of the big speech. Surely they've gotten a better plan than this.

“Now, riddle me this. What does the Glass Lion, that venerable protector of the palace, have in common with the soaring stained glass windows of the State Building?’

“Uhh, nothing, as far as I know,” I respond eloquently. “What are you suggesting?”

Ezio simply smiles and nods. “And how about those beautiful, deadly glass swords that Ember wields? What do they have in common with, say, the Singing Azure Rod that the head of the [Menders] order uses to enhance their healing magic? Any clues yet?”

“Aside from the fact that they're all made out of glass?” I ask with an edge to my voice. I clench my jaw, grinding my teeth and trying to rein in my irritation. “Why bring up all these works of great Masters of the past? I can't build any of them! What's the point of even discussing them if I can't model my proposal after any of these masterworks?”

“Think, Nuri,” Ezio chides, resting his fists on his hips, his lips pursued as he stares down at me in my sprawling seat.

I shrug finally, fiddling with a curio Ezio had left out on his desk, filling it with mana in different intensities to make it glow in different colors. “They’re all masterworks. Is that what you're getting at?”

“Precisely!” Ezio beams at me like I'm a prized student, even though we both know I'm excruciatingly slow to answer. “But more than that? They're from the same Master. But that's a secret known only to a few, and one we can use to our advantage.”

“How? They’re nothing alike,” I blurt out, my natural aversion to coincidence rising to the fore. “There’s no way that they came from the same studio. The Glass Lion alone has guarded the palace for over a century. How could you figure out something like that? I've never heard any rumors of a mystery Master crafting works all over the kingdom for generations on end. Wait. Does this mean the swords really are masterworks?”

“Indeed! That’s what started us on the right track, actually. I’d asked him to look into the origin of the blades, and I never expected the wealth of secrets we uncovered. As for the rest of your questions? That's where Rakesh proved his worth. Remember, he is a particular type of [Secretarial Researcher], with specialized Skills for collating and analyzing information. He uncovered the links between the various masterworks, and also figured out the location of the mysterious studio.”

Ezio claps his hands twice, and a shimmering projection spins into view above his desk. He nods toward his assistant. “Rakesh? This is your moment to shine.”