Ivan lifted the machine to his face, pulling the cover free and peering into the mess of gears inside. He searched with his eyes for a few moments, then reached inside with one finger, gently turning one of the gears. His eyes darted around the mechanisms, scanning for any fault within and quickly found it.
"Yep, snapped axle up inside," he said, placing the machine back down. "I'm not sure if I have the right part in the back, Maggie, so it might take a few days to get that, depending on Ferr's backlog."
The woman frowned, pouting slightly. "Oh...can't you do anything about that faster? I'd hate to lose it for that long."
Ivan shrugged, leaning back against the counter. "If I have it, I can get it back to you tomorrow morning, but if not, it'll have to be made. Putting a wrong piece in might fix it temporarily, but it'll just break again."
Maggie sighed, nodding. "I know, I'm sorry. It's just much harder to work without it, especially with the work load I've taken on."
"No need to apologize," Ivan said, waving his hands. "I understand." The man frowned in thought for a moment, tapping his chin. "Tell you what. If we need a new piece, I'll talk to Ferr personally and see if he can make one right away. He owes me a favor, anyway. That would make it...probably tomorrow evening, at latest."
"Really? Oh, thank you Ivan, you're too kind!" The woman walked over and threw her arms around him.
He laughed and returned the hug far more gently than it had been given. "Don't worry about it. It's the least I can do after that beautiful dress you made for Karis. I've never seen her so ecstatic to wear something before."
Maggie waved at him. "Oh, she would have looked beautiful in a dress made from a burlap sack. She has your gorgeous face, after all."
Ivan smiled and glanced at the floor, feeling his cheeks tinging pink. "Maggie, you'll never give up, will you?"
The woman winked at him. "You're the only one here who's married, Ivan. I'm free to play the temptress as much as I want."
"You should stick to playing the seamstress," he said. "You'll have better luck with it."
Sighing, she said, "Oh, don't deny a woman her fun." She suddenly looked up, glancing around the shop. "Where is Karis, by the way? I haven't seen her in here for a while. She's not sick, is she?"
"No, no, nothing like that," Ivan said quickly. "She's delivering a piece of equipment to Isaac for me."
"Alone?" Maggie said, raising an eyebrow.
"She'll be fine," Ivan said, nodding. "I wouldn't let her go if I didn't know she'd be fine."
Maggie shook her head. "I'm not going to second-guess your judgments. You're her father, after all. If anything happens to that girl, though..." The seamstress reached out and jabbed Ivan in the chest with her finger. "Her mother won't be the only woman you'll be answering to."
Ivan laughed. "She'll be fine," he said again. "Trust me."
The woman continued to look at him skeptically, then shrugged. "If you say so." Glancing out the window, she said, "I suppose I should get going. I'll have to work late tonight without my machine." She turned to the door and opened it. "Thank you again, Ivan."
"No problem, Maggie," he called. "I'll see you tomorrow."
Once the door had shut again, Ivan turned back to his workbench, looking over the stitching machine. Pulling open a drawer, he fished around inside briefly before withdrawing a few tools, dropped all but one on the desk, then set about pulling apart the machine.
Discovering the problem had not been difficult. After all, he had been the one to design and build it. The moment Maggie had told him the needle no longer moved up and down, the back of his mind immediately began running through the machinery, figuring out what pieces could cause the fault.
He stacked the gears into a pile as he pulled them out, all of them different sizes, making him grateful he wouldn't have to go pull the schematics to put it back together. The screws he dropped into a tin, not wanting to go scouring the floor again when one rolled off the desk.
Finally he reached the broken axle. Pulling out both pieces, he held it up to the light, examining it critically. The other components put too much weight on it, he realized, looking at the slight bends in the metal around the fractured edges. He glanced back at the machine, but quickly ruled out rearranging the internals. Perhaps a support on any non-moving pieces to help alleviate the stress? Or maybe just use a different material for the axle. Sighing, he realized he would need to pull the schematics anyway, to update them with his new change.
He heard the door to the shop open and shut, but he paid it no attention, calling out, "Be with you in a minute." He needed another moment to figure out which alloy would serve best. He supposed he could use-
"Are you Ivan?"
He felt his line of thought waver and shatter at the voice, a small barb of irritation forming in the back of his neck. Hadn't he just told them to wait a moment? He wanted to ignore the person until he reached a decision, but the mental chart of alloy qualities had broken into too many pieces; it would take a minute or two to put it all back together in his head.
Gritting his teeth, he stood up from his stool and turned around, finding an unfamiliar man standing in front of the door. His irritation immediately vanished, replaced by a mix of confusion and curiosity. The man had blue skin and green hair, not an impossible combination, save that he did not appear to be Proxian. He also carried an enormous sword that he stood against the ground, an observation that set Ivan slightly on edge.
A traveling warrior most likely, he realized, though from where Ivan could not say. "Yes, that's me. What can I help you with?"
The man said nothing for a moment, simply staring at Ivan intensely. He found the gaze slightly unnerving, but kept his own locked onto the man's. If the man's goal was intimidation, he would be hard-pressed to win in the middle of Ivan's own shop.
He stepped forward after a few seconds, carrying the sword like a walking stick. "I've heard you have a flying device...a Soarwing, I think you call it."
More questions appeared in Ivan's head. The Soarwing had not been made public knowledge, outside of some friends who had helped him build and test it. How did this man know about it? Did he think he could operate it? A sudden suspicion jumped into his head. Did he want to steal it? "I'm afraid you're mistaken," he said calmly, careful to keep the casual, friendly expression on his face. "I've been looking into making one, but I haven't succeeded yet."
The man fell silent again, continuing to stare at Ivan, who wondered if the man simply had a fierce expression naturally. It reminded him of a hawk's features. "You're lying. It's already complete and fully operational. Where is it?"
Ivan felt his spine turn cold, the hair on the back of his neck standing up. "Get out of my shop," he said firmly, all pleasantries vanishing from his voice. "Now. I don't want to see you back."
A smile spread across the man's face, the first emotion he had shown since entering. "I've always been fond of pointless resistance. I'll just find it myself, then."
"Go ahead," Ivan said. "Search high and low. You won't find it here. Why would I keep something that important in such an obvious place?"
The man cocked his head. "Why? That's your nature, isn't it? You tinker. Isn't that thing supposed to be your pride and joy?"
Ivan tightened his grip on the counter. How the hell did this stranger know that? Until Karis left with it, the Soarwing had indeed been simply sitting in his back room, where he would frequently glance it over, thinking about possible improvements or tweaks he could make.
"Unless...he already has it," the man said, more to himself than to Ivan. "Yes, it must already be there. Well, it looks like we'll have to keep moving, then."
"Hey!" Ivan shouted, crossing around the counter. He had no doubt the man knew the Soarwing had been intended for Isaac, given the other information he knew. "Stay away from them! Your issue is with me!"
The man opened the door and paused before stepping through it. "Don't worry, I won't hurt whoever has it. Much."
Karis.
A fierce gust of wind smashed into the door, slamming it shut with enough force to rattle the windows. The man turned back around as Ivan pooled Psynergy into the forefront of his mind. "I said your issue is with me," he said quietly.
The other man shrugged. "I suppose I can delay long enough for th-"
Ivan's hand flicked out, the lightning that coursed from his fingertips interrupting the man. It struck him full in the chest, wrapping its sparking fingers tightly around his chest and spiraling down his legs. The short burst slammed him against the wall, though his hand remained tightly closed around the hilt of his sword. An experienced fighter, then, Ivan noted, feeling his mind slip into a cool rationality even as his heart and body began to burn with adrenaline and rage.
The man looked up as the purple light faded from the room and opened his mouth, but before he could speak, another burst of lightning flashed from Ivan's hand. With a speed that Ivan found terrifying, the blade tore free of its sheath as the man planted it into the wooden floor between them. The lightning snapped to the handguard on the blade instead, and Ivan felt the electricity course straight down the blade, bypassing the wood and reaching the stone beneath.
Laughter suddenly burst from the other man as he reached out to pull his blade from the floor, which stood as high as he did. "Well, I wasn't told anything about killing you," he said slowly, pulling his sword back to rest on his shoulder, "but I heard nothing about keeping you alive, either."
With a speed that belied the man's large frame and weapon, he crossed the distance between them in an instant, swinging the sword down at Ivan with both hands. The only thing that saved the Jupiter Adept was his low ceiling - the blade lodged itself into the thick wood, stopping it abruptly.
Ivan immediately pulled back his fist, stepped forward, and slammed it into the man's stomach. As he did, he adjusted the flow of Chi through his body, expelling it through his extended arm at the moment of impact. The resulting force threw the man back against the wall again, slamming into the same spot he had previously.
As the man fell back onto his feet, he suddenly vanished. Ivan blinked in confusion for a moment before something very hard slammed into his back, throwing him to the ground. He landed facedown on the wood, biting his tongue and tasting copper in his mouth.
He spat out the blood and shoved himself to his feet, turning around to find the man standing next to the counter, eying the shop with distaste. "Such cramped quarters... You're smart, to use them to your advantage. But you're still at the disadvantage overall."
Ivan glanced up at the sword still lodged in the ceiling above him. If the man escaped with his sword outside, he would have no choice but to follow, and out in the open, that speed could prove deadly. If he could keep him from the sword, though...
The man had already reached that conclusion, he knew. Ivan reached up and lightly touched the end of the hilt, electrically charging the blade to protect it from its owner. Instead of rushing for his blade, however, the man tossed something towards Ivan. He stepped to the side, allowing it to land at his feet, and briefly saw a small, red device before flames overtook him. He felt himself slam into the wall in the same fashion the man had, his ears ringing and eyes spinning. Lights flashed across his vision as he heard the distinct sound of steel wrenching free of wood.
Taking a deep breath, he pushed himself back to his feet as he heard the door open and close, patting himself down to make sure nothing had caught fire. He started towards the door, but after two steps, realized his vision had not yet cleared. Gingerly touching his eyes, he realized that he had no idea how long it would take to recover from the bright flash.
The grim realization passed as his mind whirred furiously to give him a solution. He had nowhere near the skill in Chi his sister had, and had only just recently learned to see through its flow. He knew such an unpracticed skill would be useless against that man's uncanny speed, though. Even if he went upstairs to grab his own sword, he would lose that fight.
And then it clicked. Closing his eyes and focusing on seeing the world through the constant flow of energy, Ivan stepped towards the door, stopping only to grab his work belt from the wall and sling it around his waist. With some surprise he noticed that it felt even more natural than his sword belt, despite the nature of his task.
He stepped through the door and into the streets of Kalay. Having lived in the city his entire life, he needed no sight to navigate its streets, immediately heading towards the northern gate of the city. He only hoped the man had to leave by foot; if he could simply teleport out of the city, then all was lost.
As Ivan skidded into a wide plaza, however, he could feel the disturbed flow standing at its center. "Well, well. Looks like the Warriors of Vale are as brave as they say. I wasn't sure if you'd actually follow."
"I won't let you touch my daughter or my friends," Ivan called out, shifting his hand to the tool at his hip. His finger unsnapped the button on the belt, loosening it.
"Aw, is this all to protect daddy's little girl? How sickeningly sweet." Ivan felt the man shift and heard the sheath clatter to the cobblestones. "You sound straight out of a child's storybook."
Ivan's other hand reached into one of his pouches and withdrew a spool of thin wire, loosening it and slipping it over a finger. "Do you think I care what I sound like? Action is all that matters."
"Wise words."
The bundle of Chi flared violently, the man hurtling forward toward Ivan. He raised both hands, pulling up the contraption he had made to point at the strange man. The mechanism had been designed to help carpenters in their construction, by removing the need for them to hammer their nails in. Ivan had found the device so useful for home construction that he kept the original on hand in his shop at all times.
Not until today had he realized its potential as a weapon.
With a squeeze of the trigger, the device propelled a single nail outward with incredible force. In the same motion, Ivan's other hand swung forward, his mind reaching out and grabbing hold of the wire's end.
The nail struck instantly, piercing the man in his face before he could even hope to avoid it. Ivan watched the Chi flow in the area burst abruptly, suddenly halting as it tried to find an alternate route to restore his body's natural flow. The sudden screaming hindered the process, Ivan suspected, though he could not blame the man.
At his command the wire snapped out, lashing around the head of the nail. The sudden, furious spinning of the spool bit into Ivan's finger, but he ignored it, instead inhaling sharply once more. "My little girl is my pride and joy, you thug!"
Ivan had created incredible potentials before, being the driving force of lightning. It flowed from areas of high charge to low charge, an entirely relative value. When he thought back to this moment, however, he could not recall ever having created such a wide disparity of charge in his life.
Lightning flashed along the wire with not a single whip crack, but an endless swarm of them. With each snap of lightning that tried to restore the balance between the two men, the air filled with the glorious sound of thunder echoing across the plaza. Bolt after bolt surged down the wire, transferred directly from Ivan's hand to the man's face, facing none of the resistance that air offered it.
Only when the pool of energy pouring from Ivan drained itself dry did the man finally cease his electrocution, though rather unwillingly. The smell of burning flesh filled his nose as he opened his eyes, finding his vision unaccustomed to the light, but otherwise fine.
The other man ripped the nail from his lower jaw, blood spurting from the wound as he pushed a hand over it, his fingers quickly turning red. He stumbled backwards, still clinging to his sword, twitching with every other movement. Where his jaw had not been stained red, it had been charred black, courtesy of Ivan's unrelenting fury.
As he reached his original location, the man dropped to one knee, sliding his blade back into the sheath on the ground. His eyes never left Ivan's, and after a few seconds, he tilted his head and spat a wad of blood onto the stone ground. "Not bad. Looks like you win. It changes little, though."
Ivan raised his instant-hammer again, taking aim at the man's head, but before he could squeeze the trigger, the man suddenly vanished. Ivan spun around, scanning the area behind him for any sign of his reappearance, but unlike the previous time, the man seemed like he had no intention of attacking once more.
As the truth of the situation sank in, Ivan fell to his knees. The sweet, thrilling elation of victory faded from his mind, replaced by the numbing horror of defeat.
He had escaped.
Karis.