The trouble with Foster, among many other troublesome things about him, was that he always assumed you knew certain things. How valuable a certain gem was, the meaning of an old word, and exactly who a person he might talk about was. Such was the case with Janace. He sent me out, and I was halfway across the island before I realized he never told me who Janace was. I had been preoccupied with horses.

It may have been his way of trying to keep me on my toes, or he may be absentminded, maybe both.

I wandered around and found a gentleman with receeding black hair and a small nose taking his time painting the sun setting behind the mountains. I asked him if he knew where Janace might be. The old man's eyes lit up with recollection instantly.

“'Deed” he said, his hand froze between brush strokes, shaking slightly. “Yes, Indeed I do know whom you speak of. Janace lives that way-” he pointed with a brush which was drying with pink paint. “His house is the one with the ornate glass windows. You'll not miss it”

I thanked him and walked in the direction he had pointed me to. The sun was setting fast, as it always did so close to the mountains, and soon lights glowed from windows. I did find the house quickly.

I have seen many very beautiful houses in my time, castles with elaborate window-frames, and even a few temples with stained-glass. However, this house had windows the likes of which I had never seen. All the windows were of glass, multi-colored glass which seemed to have melted together. From the ease hung glittering glass baubles, which seemed to have been folded and curved into place, rather then shaped by normal means.

I assumed I was expected, and I wasn't doing anything I shouldn't have been, so I did something very different. I knocked on the door. Heck, taking the door in was different for me, let alone knocking!

After a moment, the door opened. I was first taken aback by the wave of heat that hit me. I backed up into the cool night air, and looked at the host. He was a tall man with a lot of shabby, tangled hair. He was dressed lightly, save for his hands, which were covered in thick leather gloves.

“Who are you?” He asked, sounding entirely baffled, confused why anyone would be at his door.

“Stiri. Foster sent me to pick up something for him.” Under my cloak, I let my hand rest on the hilt of my dagger. This man was strange, and I didn't want to take any chances.

The man seemed to take a moment to think on that. He seemed dazed, and confused at everything; my presence, the outdoors, the cool night breeze that now flowed.

“Oh! Foster! Yes, it's cooling! Come in!” He was suddenly excited. Reluctantly I walked into the hot house. He slammed the door behind me, cutting off my nice supply of cool air. “Yes, yes, nice to meet you... What is your name again?”

I sighed. “Stiri.” I said. “Foster sent me?”

“Yes, yes, I know that! No need to remind me! My minds as sharp as ever. Of course it is! Foster sent you for the star. Well, come in, come. Oh, your in.” He laughed suddenly. I didn't know if he was dangerous or not. I think I just stared at him a little blankly.

“You know, you're the first person to actually come in here in a very long time!”

“Am I?” I replied. I couldn't see why. The sweltering hot temperature must put people at ease, and an insane host is always a source of amusement.

“Yes, yes! Finally, I have someone to show-off too! Oh, please pardon a passionate artisan a moment. Most people only care about their special orders.” His face suddenly turned dark. “Yes, no one cares about real art anymore, oh no. They think that they know better, and tell me what to make. Me! Can you believe that?”

“Er...”

“Anyway, I'm Janace... I said that didn't I?”

“ I...Don't think so.”

“Well, I'm Janace. It's nice to meet you... Your name?”

“...It's Stiri!”

“Ah, right! That's three times now. Well, I won't forget again. Stiri, Stiri. Ok! Oh no!” He suddenly spun around and looked at a glowing blob of stuff on a large stone. “One moment, I need to attend to that. Look around a moment, but don't touch anything.” He ran off to the table.

Finally away from his ramblings, I looked about the house. From the outside, it looked very large. However, inside there was little free space. Figures of dragons and griffins, men and women stood on every tabletop. From the ceiling hung snowflakes, fish, birds and balls. I had seen glass figures before, but none of them seemed so natural, none had such details that these seemed to have. Sheets of colored glass lay against the walls like candies. The candles that lay about the tables, and the light from the large fireplace in the middle of the house had their light filtered by the glass. Everything was stained in varying colors.

I looked over at Janace. He was shaping the glob of what I assumed to be glass. It was still glowing with the heat, but he was shaping it with his hands, which were also glowing from the heat. His eyes seemed to be looking faraway, and he took no notice of me.

After a while, he set a glowing, red hot horse on a stone table to let it cool.

“Normal people don't do that.” I said.

Janace looked at me without recognition, as though I had pulled him from his own little world. At least now I knew that the little world was fashioned with glass.

“...Stiri! Yes... Do what?”

I sighed. “Your hands. They were glowing.”

Janace stared at me a moment, then laughed. “Oh, that! I thought everyone here knew I could do that! I almost got blamed for the mess that happened in artem”

I frowned. “I heard that it was entirely burned by the kingdom because it was home to conspirators.” I wondered for a moment if it was actually destroyed by Kos, and if the conspirators had anything to do with the Vanguard, or Baliancia.

“Bull.” Janace said. “Everyone here knows... Oh, look, you're sweating.” Indeed, I was. It was far to hot in here. “Do pardon me. I get so used to the heat. Even though my hards work everything to it's final shape and purpose, I have to use larger flames to make the glass... Anyway, please, come out into the balcony. Do you drink?”

I smirked. Maybe I could get along with this guy. “When the mood strikes.” I said.

“The mood strikes me now. Besides, Foster's marker is cooling out there. Come on, come on, I'll show it to you.”

I followed him out a door with a thick wooden frame, covered again in globs of glass.

“Why are all your windows made of colored glass?”

“Scraps. I melt them together, and use them to make windows.” Janace said. He seemed to become more and more sane now, with the thing he had been working on being finished.

The balcony was suspended over water. Rafters hanging overhead, and from them hung more balls of colored glass, some of which were turned into oil lamps. The colored light fell onto the water below and glittered like colored stars on the surface.

“Here it is.” Janace said. He led me to a table which had on it a jug, and next to the jug, a circle of golden glass, covered in golden spikes “It's a star shaped grave marker. Foster gets one every year.”

My stomach lunged as I remembered the date. The annivarsary of Cara's death. “Yeah, I should have known.”

“Sit down.” he said, gesturing to a chair that thankfully wasn't made of glass. “This thing still needs to cool. I keep the liquor out here so that it stays cool. It's too hot inside.” he grinned. “I put it in a bucket, and throw it into the water. Keeps it nice and cool.”

“It would.”

“But, it's a nice night. Fall is coming fast though.” He looked up at the empty sky. “It's a crescent moon.” I glanced up and through the flock of orbs, saw the waning moon hanging in the sky.

Janace pushed a large glass mug of wine to me. I accepted it gratefully and took a long drink, draining the mug. Janace laughed and refilled it.

“While we wait...” he said, “You don't know about the burning of Artem?”

“I thought I did. You said what I knew was-”

“Bull. It wasn't conspirators.”

“What was it then?”

He drank some of his drink, “A mage working on a new kind of power. He was working with the elements, hoping to give people the ability to use the elements at will...There were legends, you see, about ancient heros doing such things with the aid of items. I don't know what he was doing, but odd things started to happen.”

“Odd?”

“Well, children born in the city sometimes had it.”

“Had it?”

“... I would make a joke about an echo, but you would expect that. Yes, they had the powers he was looking at... Well, it was only one power then. He was working with fire. Now, most of the children born there who had the power managed to kill them before they got to old. They lost control of the power they had, and it destroyed themselves and their families... Some said it served them right, messing with powers that belonged to myth. Some adults started to be effected as well. Myself, as you see... It's in my hands. I can't control flames, but I can hold them, and my hands get hot enough to melt glass.”

“I see. That's why your a glass-blower.”

“Right! but it's not Blowing in my case, it's handling.”

“Also, I guess that's why your work is so different. You have more time to mold the pieces, and more control over them.”

“Right. It seemed like a reasonable thing to do. I was a painter before, but I learned a few things about glass. Once I realized I had these powers, I put them to use.” He shrugged. “I could never cut it as a painter. My work never seemed to come alive. But... well, you see my work.” He gestured to the delicate star on the table.

I nodded. “It's very beautiful.”

He grinned, “It doesn't have to be beautiful. It has to be alive. Ah, but your not an artist, are you?”

“Not in practice.”

Janace smiled. “I like you, Stiri. That's the right answer. All mankind are artists, all are creators. Only few follow that path, and dedicate themselves to art. Stay here a while, have a few drinks. I'll make sure you can't walk a straight line before you leave here!”

This time, I smiled. I would be sure to come here often as long as I was here. “Sounds good to me.”

“Hang around me.” he said. “I have stories to turn your hair, glass to break your heart, and booze to kill you.”

“Oh, I think I have a few stories myself.... What happened to the village in the end?”

Janace laughed loudly and slammed down his mug. “Yes! That's what a story teller wants to be asked. 'what happened next.'” He smiled and drank some more. “It burned down, of course. That part was true. No one knows if the mage himself gained power and lost control, or if it was a child. It may even have been another adult. There was a group that tried to run him out of town, some people who hate magic. Why such people... anyway, I can only imagine one of them gaining the power. I suppose one of them could have realized they had the power, couldn't deal with it and decided to destroy the entire village.” He drained his mug, and then refilled it, and filled mine as well. “There were a few survivors, unlike most of the stories say. However, only one actually had the power. He was a nice kid from one of the families that didn't much like magic. He and his brother survived, but their parents died in the fire. All the survivors dispersed and made their new homes.”

“Do you remember the kid's name?” I asked.

“Of course I do... It was young Rico and his brother, Justin.”