Red stone, liquid shield

Celsian’s whole demeanour faltered. “What?”

“I thought that my opening and closing hours were clear enough, but apparently they aren’t.” Rutile stood up and looked at them, through the lens of an elegant frame, with his piercing, orange eyes. “I won’t see any more people today, I’ve had enough, so get out of my office!” he exclaimed – they were lucky that the Guildhall was a noisy place –, making a shooing motion with his hands. He was a young man of approximately the same age as Celsian, with long and cared-for red hair that was tied at the neck in a low ponytail. He was dressed in sophisticated and refined clothes, all different shades of greens and reds, that denoted both his family status and his position in the Guildhall, but he had a sort of natural and uncomplicated beauty to him that would’ve made him look aesthetically pleasing in pretty much everything. He would’ve probably been even fairer, if his face wasn’t currently distorted in an expression of pure, unadulterated annoyance. “You can try again and get in line tomorrow, like anyone else, if it’s really that important.”

The sole prospect made them shiver in horror.

“Oh, come on, can’t you make an exception?” Celsian tried.

“No! If I start making exceptions, everyone else will want to be one too and the queue will never clear! I’ll never finish my paperwork, I’ll never return home, and I’ll die in this office! It’s already bad enough like this, with everyone wanting my attention! I barely have time to eat!”

To say that they were disconcerted would’ve been a euphemism.

Celsian, however, wasn’t the type who just gave up. “Okay, I think I’ll ignore that particular can of worms. Couldn’t this be our little secret? We won’t tell anyone else, promise.”

“I don’t care, people will find a way to know, even if nobody tells them. So, again, get out!” he said, losing his patience at last and pointedly gesturing at the door, that Ametrine had helpfully closed.

Now, Opal actually felt kind of sorry for him. She had seen what working more hours than the clock could do to a person and she usually respected people’s opening times; moreover, he seemed to have picked the short stick for what concerned all the different facets of his job – even though it had to be well-paid –, since he was an overworked civil servant who was treated as an idol by the people, for reasons unknown to her, and couldn't just not hear their requests. So, of course, she felt bad for him, but they couldn't allow themselves to miss that chance.

“Oh, well, in this case I imagine we could forgo good manners and pass directly to plan B.” Celsian, who contrary to them didn’t have any problem with inconveniencing people’s lives, if it was for her scientific research or for what she considered as the greater good, clapped her hands, smiling in a way that wasn’t comforting at all. Opal was glad she wasn’t her enemy or an actual villain either. “Blackmail! Finally!” Ametrine’s face turned into a grimace, but didn’t otherwise comment or react.

Rutile narrowed his eyes, gripping the edge of the table. “I hope this is simply some kind of bad joke. Now, get out before I-”

“Sorry man, no can do.”

They held a staring contest for a few seconds, but in the end Rutile groaned and crumpled back on his chair, repeatedly banging his head against the smooth surface of his desk, making the books tremble and the papers all around him flutter, while a few stacks and towers of documents, precariously piled one on the other, risked falling disgracefully. It was such a dramatical show of desperation that in any other moment, if they were in her world, Opal would’ve invited him to join the theatre club – she could already see it: between him, Celsian and herself, they were ready to put up a show; maybe she could’ve convinced Ametrine too: her entrances, after all, were pretty dramatical when she put herself into it –. “Oh, for the Saintess’ sake, what is it this time? A request for a letter of recommendation for the Palladium University? Or for an apprenticeship? Another marriage proposal? If it’s a proposal, my answer is no! I’m not marrying anyone any time soon!” He said the last part in a tone that implied he’d had to repeat it time and time again and it would’ve been way more poignant if it wasn’t so funny: did people really go there to ask for his hand in marriage? There had to be a limit to everything.

As if Celsian was reading her mind, she started laughing, leaning on Opal’s shoulder for support. “Hahaha, you thought-! Oh my, no, we aren’t here for any of those things” she replied, even though she wasn’t doing a great job of talking and breathing at the same time. “Oh, oh dear, give me a minute…” She trailed off, continuing to laugh. After a few moments, she wiped one or two tears from her eyes and peeled off from Opal’s side with a deep stabilising breath, under Rutile’s flummoxed gaze, that he’d lifted just to stare at her. “Sorry, buddy, it’s the funniest thing I’ve heard in the latest period. As I was saying, we’re not here for that, we just need some information.”

“What kind of information could you possibly-” He stopped suddenly, and his eyes widened. He straightened up his back, as well as his glasses. “… wait a second, you’re- Yes, you’re that one crazy student from university!” he exclaimed, pointing at her. “Celsian Felspat!”

“Hi Rutile, surprise reunion!” she joyfully exclaimed, making a popping up gesture with her hands. Opal could nearly see sparkles and flowers around her. “I’m so happy you remember me!”

“Who wouldn't? After you went rogue, the knights interrogated every single person who was unlucky enough to have had a contact of some kind with you, and put researchers under even more scrutiny than before! You’re the black stain on the immaculate reputation of our university!”

“That’s truly tragic” she commented, very serious, shaking her head. “Everyone should be able to freely study the field of their choice, however they prefer.” It was as if they were having two different conversations: from a certain point of view, it was fascinating.

“You stole priceless jewels and became a criminal!”

“It was for science, man, for science!”

That definitely wasn’t the first time that Opal had heard Celsian have that specific kind of argument, and it probably wouldn't have been the last: her friend was deaf to any point, as good or bad as it might be, that was raised against her way of thinking.

“It doesn’t matter what you did it for, do you realise that-”

In that moment they heard a loud crack, and the two ex-classmates were successfully shut up. Everybody looked in the direction of the door, where Ametrine had just slammed the scabbard of her sword to the floor, with enough force to fissure it. “Quit running your mouth, Celsian, and get to the actual point” she ordered, her voice scarily cold. If glares could kill, the thief would’ve probably already been a hundred feet underground.

The latter smiled awkwardly, bringing a lock of hair behind her ear. “Ah, haha, my sweet Ametrine, how could I possibly say no, when you pronounce my name like that-”

“The point, Celsian.”

“Right, the point, of course, sorry. One heart of the matter coming at table one right away!”

The knight’s brow had a spasm.

Celsian put her hands on her hips and turned back to Rutile, who had followed the exchange with an expression that was a mix between worried and perplexed. Who could blame him. “So! Sorry we can’t have a proper reunion-” She completely ignored him telling her that they barely even spoke to each other. “-but! We were actually here to ask you about-”

And then, all of a sudden, the stained glass window behind Rutile’s desk exploded. Celsian didn’t get to finish her sentence, because, in the space of an instant, in the void between two heartbeats, what had simply been an office full to the brim with documents became a hell made of debris and scattered glass fragments.

Opal heard Rutile scream, but was too occupied getting propelled against the other side of the room to do anything about it. She closed her eyes, shielding her head with her arms and preparing herself to hit the wall, but the impact never came, for a strong arm caught her around her middle. She opened her eyes, blinking furiously, and noticed that Ametrine had caught in her solid grasp both her and Celsian, who had been too distracted to react in time.

In the most destroyed part of the office, meanwhile, Rutile had crashed into his wooden desk due to the force of the explosion and was now barely standing on his own, but from the looks of it a red shield made of what seemed to be liquid stone had protected him from the worst of it. Behind him, however, in the now empty frame of the broken window and among the glass shards there was a snarling creature like Opal had never seen before, that resembled a specie of four-legged animal mixed with rocks, that protruded from its body made of clay. Nothing about it felt natural, but that wasn’t the moment to ask questions about that world’s wildlife.

“Get away from here!” Ametrine roared, her gaze fixed on the enemy. She let go of Opal and Celsian and charged at the creature, slashing its throat with a swift horizontal stroke of her blade. It crumpled on the ground just a second later, transforming into a mere heap of rocks and clay, as if it had never been alive in the first place. The knight stared at it for a few moments, but then shook her head and strengthened the grip on her sword. “Come on, let us get out!” she shouted over the noise, indicating the broken window and jumping outside.

“Oh, when I tell you to get out you just ignore me, but then she says that and suddenly everybody listens” Rutile complained between a cough and another, dusting off his clothes and readjusting his slightly crooked glasses, which now were a bit grained.

Celsian, having bounced back as she always did, patted him on the shoulder, nodding sympathetically as if she actually shared his concerns. “It’s truly an unforgiving world, this one, buddy.”

They started stepping out, so Opal got closer to them. “What was that?” she asked, glancing at the downed creature.

“Well, do you remember when I told you about the Golem?” replied Celsian, while she imitated Ametrine and jumped outside too.

How could Opal ever forget that night? She nodded, being careful around the sharp and pointy glass shards.

“Among the Golem’s powers, there is the one of creating monsters from its body” she explained, helping Rutile to get out: the office was at the ground floor and all it took to get outside was a small jump, but the civil servant had the agility of a rock. “That was one of its creatures, that took the form of an animal.”

“It must’ve been on the younger side, because its mimicry wasn’t as good as it could’ve been” Rutile piped up, readjusting his glasses for the umpteenth time.

“I see…”

There wasn’t any more time to continue the impromptu lesson, though, because in the square outside of the Guildhall the situation was disastrous to say the least. Clay creatures more or less formed had invaded the city and were quickly destroying everything they touched, while the civilians screamed and tried to take cover, protecting their soul stones with everything they had. Ametrine, whose straw hat had since been lost in the heat of the battle, was fighting like fury against the monsters, lunging and slashing left and right, alongside the few city guards present, but they were having trouble with keeping the situation under control.

“Opal!” she shouted, without losing time to glance at her. “You are the only one who is not at risk of losing their magic! Help!”

Opal, however, was frozen on the spot, unable to move. She would’ve gladly lent a hand, but that was the closest thing to an open battlefield that she’d seen and she was undeniably scared. She knew she was the so-called new Saviour for those people, but she was just a high school student, and that was too much, she couldn't do that, she couldn't-

“Opal!”

And suddenly, Celsian was there, in front of her, blocking with her presence the view of the square. She had taken a hold of her hands and was smiling comfortingly.

“Don’t worry about it; just do what you can, okay? If it’s too much, just protect yourself.”

“But-”

“No, don’t worry. I’ll think about it.” She let go of her hands – and Opal immediately missed that warmth –, turning in Rutile’s direction. “Rutile, stay with her!”

The latter was doing his best to get away as fast as possible, but she just caught him around his middle with one of her stone branches and dragged him back.

He fell on the ground with a huff, massaging his lower back, and sighed. “Okay, okay, whatever.”

Celsian smiled, and then she charged into battle, helping Ametrine.

The screams and crashing sounds filled the air, and Opal wanted to do something too. She took too long to decide, though, and multiple clay creatures circled them.

“Oh, I wasn’t built for this” Rutile complained, moving a few steps closer to Opal.

Opal, who was probably the only one out of the two who could actually fight, forced herself to overtake her fear and act: she invoked her power, and stone spikes emerged from the ground, destroying the paving and impaling the monsters around them. She managed to kill a few, but the others just freed themselves, regenerating the hurt parts of their bodies, which was probably the reason why Rutile didn’t start posing question after question about her magic abilities and limited himself to a wordless utterance of awe. One of the creatures attacked him and he created a liquid shield, originated by a red stone that was floating between his hands.

“Opal, not to rush you, but this would be a really good moment to do that trick of yours again” he said, panting under the strain of holding the shield.

Opal didn’t lose any more time and did what she was asked to, but the monsters of clay must’ve understood something, for they dodged her spikes, getting too close.

Opal didn’t know what to do. According to everybody else she was the second advent of the Saintess, capable of creating virtually anything and everything from stone, but the sad reality was that she barely knew how to do a single type of attack. In that moment she wished she had a sword like Ametrine’s, with which she could’ve just slashed enemy after enemy without having to think about controlling the earth itself.

A few creatures jumped and lunged at her, and confronted with such a close danger she let go of every logical thought in favour of reacting with pure instinct, even though it was definitely stupid, waving a hand in front of her with a shout and briefly closing her eyes. She felt her forearm touch the bodies of a few monsters, but, more alarmingly, she also felt it pass through them.

When she blinked again, however, they were just heaps of clay on the ground, while her arm… her arm, to her horror, had become a sharp blade made of stone.