Everywhere I look I catch a glimpse of you

The magic she had found with her new rank flooded her veins. It frightened the scarred mare, feeling so much power beneath her skin. It shook her to the core. Her sister had always been the one graced with magic, and while they had both been beautiful, Glasgow had always been the one passed over. She watched as her sister felt the power of magic rip her apart. While this new magic that Glasgow had found, it wasn’t malevolent as the magic her sister had. But despite how it felt it still frightened her to wield. And she knew that if she were to master it, she would need practice. As if the jagged pieces of blades she had created weren’t a sad enough feeling to the mare, at least she had the simplicity of the coating of piece of glass to her King’s companion.

So today was spent focusing on the practice of smoothing things out. Despite her scarred nature, she hadn’t always been this way. She was once pristine, pale ivory with beautiful glassy horns that sat perfectly on her skull. A porcelain doll used to convince outsiders for trade. While she distracted them with her perfect appearance, her sister distracted them with wings, magic, and promises. But now, they had both been ripped of such treasures. And while Glasgow had imagined she’d never see or be of any importance after that, life had a funny way of proving her wrong.

It was a beautiful Birdsong morning, as the scarred Glazier stood beneath a large pine tree. Birds sat above her, chanting cheery songs into the mists of the Edge. And here is where Glasgow found her solace. She felt the sharp chill in her veins as it vibrated within her bones, focusing her glassy eyes to direct the mists into liquid and trying to solidify them before actually creating anything. She spent time working over each little piece, at first trying to make small smooth surfaces along square shapes and rectangles before even attempting a marble-like shape. These creations never lasted long, before the liquid glass could harden, she would press it back into the mists to try again once satisfied.

And so she stood, studying the effects of each different kind of pass over with the liquid, bird calls falling on deaf ears that only had patience for the task in front of her. She figured she needed to get the basic shapes down before even attempting the glass jars Tembovu had asked of her. She didn’t want to give the Doctor jars that were jagged and sharp, and so she grew determined to master the magic within her.

"Talk."

I said it was love—

and I did it for life.

Glasgow