felt bad for the man, but decided not to. Instead he focused as hard as he could, found the amulet around the man’s neck and triggered it, turning it off.
That, of course, was the problem of attacking him while wearing work Tor had created. He owned it, in a very real sense. It was always his, no matter who copied the field or who wore it. The design was a part of him, made from his own field. If he could focus enough, he could turn it off. Then he could do… anything.
In this case the order of the day was stomping. It wasn't very precise, but then that wasn't his fault, he was blind. Shoe leather struck flesh over and over again, but the guy kept breathing. Tor pointed the weapon in his hand again. A short blast came out of the end.
Then Tor woke up somewhere else. It was still black.
Wonderful.
Under him the bed was soft, the blankets too, so not the floor of the room, and he lived, which hadn't been guaranteed. Still blind though… that was kind of annoying. Dropping into a work state, Tor tried to rebuild his eyes. It took a long time, and he felt himself fed occasionally, and thought he fell asleep several times, the field always getting weaker when he did, which is how he knew it happened at all. Finally, days later, he opened his eyes, and saw something. It was dark, but he could see a slightly brighter patch coming from around the door in front of him. After a while he got up and opened it, the world flooded with light, bright light, too bright to see really.
He adjusted, if throwing an arm over his eyes while trying not to see counted as that, and noticed the guard standing outside the door. Clear, but a little blurry. Probably just his eyes not being used to the light yet. On the other side, to the left, there was another. Crap. He hadn't even considered that Smythe might have been acting on orders. Tor was defenseless, weak from the attack and the work he'd done. Plus these were Royal Guards. He probably couldn't have taken one in a fight on the best day of his life, even if he got the drop on them. Not without weapons. As it was they both turned around when he stepped into the hall.
“Right, so, am I prisoner or not?” He asked, just waiting for an answer.
If he was, well, he'd fight of course, even if he was going to lose. Then again, if he went back to the room, he could make a cutter and get himself free. Or possibly a shield, if he found something to attach it too. If he could do both, he might be able to get away. He'd lose all his stuff, but without life, did things matter? The guards told him to go back in to his room. Rather gruffly.
Well, that explained that, didn't it? Tor went back, into the dark with no lights at all, and started feeling around for objects to work with. The only things he could find were a pitcher of water that might or might not be poisoned, and a glass.
Everything that belong to him was gone, of course, though they'd dressed him in a loose silk outfit. It had no buttons or solid fasteners of any kind, not even cloth ties. Tor wondered for a few seconds if he could attach a field to silk? Or to whatever the bedding was made from? He'd never heard of that, but then again, his education had been less than complete when he left school. Maybe it was the easiest thing in the world?
Just to be safe though, Tor decided to go with something more solid. The bed was made of wood and so was the table the pitcher was on. Good hard woods from the sense he got off them. All he had to do was make a simple cutting field and he could take large pieces off to work with. His breath caught and a smile flashed over his face, making his beard pull in a couple places where it was matted together.
The walls and floor were stone. Hard, blue-gray and shiny. Given his preference, that was the material he'd take. He had to find a corner to shave stone off, but feeling around it only took a few minutes. The cutting took longer, but in under half an hour he held three nice slabs of stone, about as thick as two of his fingers and as long as his hand each. He could have gone with something smaller, but it was still pitch black in the room and really, he didn't want to accidentally slice off a hand or finger trying to make everything perfect, when good enough would do.
Hours later he had everything ready. A cutter that was by far the largest field of its type he'd ever worked with, nearing six-foot in sweep. That was just in case he needed to go through walls that were thicker than he thought they would be. Then, just to move debris from his path, he formed a decently strong explosive weapon, but, it was shielded on all sides but one, so all the force would move away from him directly. Like what a force lance might dream of being when it grew up. Destroying anything in its path, but also moving it away from whoever held the device at the same time, for close work. It was something Tor had been working on for a while, so that if he had to threaten anyone he wouldn't have to use his mega explosive or risk other people around him, since that would just be insane.
Still, this one wouldn't go through his own shields, so something better was going to be needed if he had to keep fighting his supposed friends. To round the whole thing out he had a shield. At first he thought that holding the three devices in his hands at once would be hard, but he figured out a way quickly enough. Shield in the left, the other two side by side in the right. The cutter could be left on and he could use his thumb to trigger the blast field.
Right. Tor stood up and tried to shake the feeling back into his arms and legs, after about ten minutes of this he triggered the shield and took a deep breath, just as the door opened, showing a medium sized giant figure in silhouette. The form reached over and tapped a sigil by the door, causing the lights to go on in the room.
“Gah!” Tor felt nearly blind suddenly, the light was so intense. It was just that normal kind of lights being too much in the morning thing though, and while he had to shield his eyes with his arm again, he could still see at least. Sort of. It was freaking bright. Tor pointed the two devices in his right hand and took several steps back just in case an attack was coming.
“Tor?” The Queen’s voice was baffled and confused sounding. “What are you doing out of bed? The doctor said you should rest undisturbed… I… are you looking at me?” She added suddenly, voice going excited.
“Of course. Well kind of, it's awfully bright in here suddenly. But yeah, I managed to get my sight back. It's what I've been working on… How long have I been out?”
“Only two days. You were eating and responsive enough, changing your clothing and such when asked… We were told you'd be blind forever… Smythe is.” Her voice wasn't accusing, but Tor felt horrible anyway. He'd cut off the man's hand and left him blind? God. What kind of monster was he? Was Smythe just right about him?
Taking a deep breath Tor shuddered for a second.
“Oh.” It wasn't a brilliant statement, but was the best he had at the moment. He struggled mentally, his mind working, but blank at the same time. “Am I not a prisoner then? The guards seemed kind of like they weren't letting me leave earlier, I was just about to escape.”
Well, he was about to try at least. If the Royal Guard used that weapon of Smythe's, he'd never make it. For that matter Tor wondered how escaping would have worked at all anyway. He should have made some kind of device to help him flee too. Duh. Was he going to just walk out of the city? They'd taken his money, so he couldn't even hire a carriage and really, given everything, running barefoot would probably be a bit much to ask in the moment. Stupid of him to not have thought that through.
“Oh! No. You're not a prisoner, the guards were just there to make sure you were safe. I'll send them away now.” She turned to the door and waved the men away, without pause they walked off.
Tor almost laughed. It wasn't like there weren't six more hidden in the walls, right? If he'd found the light they probably would have attacked him when he started cutting things up. Then again, if he really wasn't being held against his will, maybe not. The Royal Guard didn't protect the furniture, or even the building, just the nobles. Some of them had even stolen some statues for him from the garden once. Just because he'd asked. They definitely didn't play be the same rules as everyone else, did they?
Connie stood for a moment looking at him hard, his eyes finally adjusting to the bright light. She walked towards him slowly and put a hand out to touch his arm, which didn't work, the shield protecting him. Instead of doing anything useful, she started crying. Tor felt like crossing his arms at her, but didn't want to tie up his weapons hand, the situation was still too uncertain, and besides, in a real fight she could probably kick his ass without half trying. He wasn't about to drop his shield for cuddles and hugs right now.
Without saying anything the Queen gestured for him to follow her, tears running down her cheeks still, but an odd smile on her face. Following almost by rote, Tor wondered what would be coming next. Probably not an attack. If they'd wanted to do that, they had a better chance before, when he was blind and unprotected. A simple swipe with a cutter and it would have been over. It would take a lot more work now. So what then? Humiliate him publicly? Kick him out in his pajamas? Well, he was taking his stuff with him if that was the case. If he could find it at least. That wasn't too likely he realized. They could have locked it up in a secret vault or hid it in the kitchen pantry. Really, if they just set it in some room at random he'd probably never find it here, the place was just too
