Everywhere I look I catch a glimpse of you

Gods were something that Glasgow really wished she could get away with not believing in. But there was something that just seemed to feel wrong about pretending they didn’t exist when she worked with a gift from her homes own patron deity. She’d acknowledge them, but if the goddess were to come down and ask her to do something, Glasgow would probably be willing to refuse and be smited because of it. The mare had little care for herself much anymore, the whole thing of having nothing to really live for. She had her crafting, which was a little blessing in disguise. But it wasn’t like she was head over heels in love with someone, it wasn’t like she had any children that looked to her for guidance. No, she was alone. And she likely would be. Abaddon came to mind, someone she felt as though she held a slight place in her heart for – but it was shifting and changing, turning against her in all the ways her mind made it do.

No one in their right mind would like someone like her.

And so she listened as Mauja, a man she had met once she stepped across the border of the Edge that had offered her a home among him without even asking where she came from – without even asking what kind of terrible things followed her. “I’ve never heard of any God punishing their crafters.” All the Glazier could do was nod, slowly. He might not have heard it from here in Helovia, but corrupted gods were out there, willing to kill the patrons that had so dutifully spread the word of. A soft sigh escaped her lips, ready to figure out ways to explain to him that the scars that graced her skin were because of gods and their reckless sticky fingers. But the spotted ex-Queen continued, and she found her glassy gaze drifting up to look upon the man softly. “You’re a smart man, Mauja.” Her voice was soft, and she nodded to him gently.

But then the conversation shifted to her crafting, and she was almost thankful for it. She was ready to place her dark thoughts back into the vault to come out on another day, perhaps one when she’d gain the courage to toss herself off the edge of the cliffs. She tilted her head lightly at his inquisition and shook her head with a soft ‘no.’ “Hmm. I haven’t. I’ve never had magic before, I didn’t know there were other ways you could go about it.” She admitted, perhaps a bit sheepishly. “I’m used to using it as a liquid, I figured that’d made it smoother but it just doesn’t want to work.” She looked away from Mauja then, looking back to the mists that shrouded them. She took the mists, allowed the ache in her bones and the exhaustion in her spine to create the liquid once again, using it as though it were pools of water to try and shape little spheres. She worked on it, mulled it over a few times, shot a glassy glance over Mauja’s way before creating a set of three beads, each one a slightly different shape but tiny nevertheless. When she was done, they stayed suspended in the air for mere moments in case she needed to make adjustments. These were better, a little rough and flat on some edges, but smoother and not nearly as jagged as the knives she had supplied the herd with.

"Talk."

I said it was love—

and I did it for life.

Glasgow