"Ah, Mechanical House. I -hate- the smell of this place." Baltanthan remarks as we pass through the magical barrier separating its industrial air from the rest of the mountaintop. Towers of smoke and glowing spires with waving, heated air for hair. A thousand different clangs and bangs without a spot of quiet anywhere on the rumbling roads. Little specks of wear and tear bouncing up and down to the mechanical music.

Keeping to the brightly marked pathways, we stay out of the way of all the vehicles driving about. Some only hold a box or two in their small arms, others haul a hill of dirt and ore on their metal backs. The cranes high above remind me of my trip to the under-city, in a way. They're like the children the moment their faces lit with when they saw the contents of what I had brought them.

I smile a little as they're probably still picking through all that I sent their way.

"It really is true what they say about this place." Baltanthan grumbles under his breath as he uses his magic to mess with the automated repair system of the school. Rhyo-light spreads across some metal, a forced-upon patch of rust following. His expression starts to strain and he stops with a sudden need to gulp down some air. Not even a superficial scar is left on the building.

"I wasn't paying attention, what were you saying?" I ask as we cross the road with a collection of Mechanical House students, their attention on toolboxes and gizmos.

"Eh, nothing important enough to speak entirely out loud." my friend answers as we come to a stop at a crossroads of sorts. Though not busy at the moment, a clock in the corner of my eye seems to suggest periods of bursting activity. The lines of parked freight vehicles all but anticipate such a twitch of the clock.

"Has this place grown since I was last here?" I ask, unsure if my time away has more to it than I thought it did.

"Maybe? Sometimes when enough students end their time here, Head of Mechanical House Muholdt will assign a large group project. The idea behind it is to add something useful to the grounds of Mechanical House using a mixture of what they have learnt and their own research. I imagine a fair few end up not having a clue." Baltanthan tells me and a brow rises as I consider the implications of how long this place has existed. His closing sentence has quite a thoughtful point to it.

"Surely if that kept happening, they'd run out of room to develop?" I point out, the fact there's still a green mountaintop left doesn't quite add up. Though, from what I remember of the way student years work here, it is nightmarish to the average timetable planner. Your schooling year starts the moment you join the school and resets on its exact anniversary. No one here is likely to have enrolled at the same time.

"Not all the time, though, bear in mind how vast Thrurstradtur itself is. This is one mighty mountain." he reminds me and I nod.

"Still." I say with a shrug as my gaze watches some boys playing around with some kind of ball out the back of one of the buildings.

"Hold on, you might be able to see it in a bit, their most recent addition..." Baltanthan says, his tongue clicking while his free hand points from building to building. Eventually, we come upon a wide opening in the district's plot. Reaching high is a peculiar skeleton of a tower next to an almost egg-shaped machine with what seems to be four bulbing legs.

"That?" I ask, pointing at it the same as he is. Baltanthan nods and looks further up, a quick spell breaking open the clouds of muck blocking our view. Briefly, I spot what must be a flying jewel of some kind and Baltanthan seems to become meek.

"Yeah..." he whispers.

"So, what is it?" I question, the details only somewhat more clear now that I am aware of what is up in the sky. What's down here must be an airship launchpad, though, this is a strange one considering the warship orbiting the school.

"The newest addition to Mechanical House. A high-orbit research facility, designed to observe and record the finer details of the magic shell that surrounds the planet. Only the strongest of Mechanical House students are allowed aboard... The kind of magic density up there is unreal, the only thing comparable is the Finger's Reach Palace atop Jhroungijherammujhernosumonaterikra." he explains with the mouthful of a word at the end making my mind blank out.

"Jhroungi, got it." I say, waving my hand a little with a chuckle I can't help but let out.

"No, Jhroungijherammujhernosumonaterikra." he almost snaps, his body becoming all the straighter and wider for it.

"Stop saying that word, please." I sigh with an exasperated laugh, my body bending under the strain his glare is applying.

"You should be more respectful towards the source of our magic." he grumbles in offence and one of my hands grasps my talisman. I smile down at it with the shake of my head. No, my magic comes from God. It always has.

"So, how far do we have left to go?" I ask, taking one last glance in the direction of this engineering marvel.

"Not long, the Head's office should be only a couple minutes." he tells me as a familiar sight comes into view. Smiling a little at the path I once walked, my pace picks up in spite of the eerie voltage running along the golden decorations. Steadying my mind, I go ahead and open the door, walking right into the heart of a busy and active workshop. A sight I need to control myself around holding the dominant view.

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A being wreathed in lightning, hammer in hand and an anvil-peaked mountain under him. A shrine to the god who defeated mine and routed our people, one whose champion terrified my brother. The reason I am as old as I am now, this noise, it was the monster's name. Thunder.

"CAN YOU STILL HEAR ME!?" Baltanthan screams against the bang, drills and saws and I nod, covering my ears slightly.

"You don't need to shout, it's not that noisy!" I raise back to him and he nods one simple nod.

"Can you see it?" he asks, his tone something acceptable now.

"No, we might need to go find Muholdt." I say, taking a step away from the entrance. Despite the unsavoury sight of golden lightning, the building holds all the stuff I am familiar with. The profession I had to leave behind when I was captured and sold off.

"Head of Mechanical House Muholdt." Baltanthan corrects before walking off. I smile, shaking my head a little at the silly mannerisms these humans have. Always so formal and long-spoken. I tell my customers all the time my name's just Liadanann but anyone from my home would get the impression it's Baker or Cakesmith first.

Minding my tail and size more than usual, we worm our way through showers of sparks and too close for comfort blade noises. A small, welcome sight appears and Baltanthan gives me a quick wave before he goes off to see an unknown someone. Taking one last glance his way, I head to the door and grasp the lubricant-greasy handle. Opening it up, I slip in and close it behind me in case Muholdt prefers the noise to be as blocked-out as he can manage.

Spend enough time in here and I can get why, they all probably see the in-school doctors over it.

Tools shift deeper in the room and a man as close to a giant as one can be somehow comes into view. How he didn't even have a slight bit of back hanging out in the open, I cannot tell. We smile at each other and Muholdt already gets to work looking for something. A key flies briefly and he catches it before coming over.

"I can guess a few reasons why you are here." he says, his swollen-looking fingers grasping the handle for the door I just closed. My smile twitches at the hindsight now afflicting me.

"But you know it's only one." I giggle, turning around so we can go back into the hustle and bustle of the workshop.

"Seeing as this is the only reason you have to come here, mind telling me what the greater reason is?" he asks as he brings me along a narrow path marked by bright yellow paint on either side of its double-file width. It takes us right through the workshop without a delay and after several turns, we reach a vault of sorts.

He really didn't have to secure it this much, it's fine being in just a simple shed or something.

As he starts to unlock the heavy metal door, I cross my arms and think about my answer, "Well, there is something I need to do. Things aren't quite working out for me in my cakesmithy so I need to be a little more active in other job roles."

"Cakesmithy?" Muholdt questions, not stopping his extensive process.

"It's a pun on the fact it's a bakery made in what was an old blacksmith shop..." I mutter, the explanation all the more embarrassing before a man of mechanics for some reason.

Muholdt stops, his straight face picks up a curve and a lone chuckle comes out, "I like that, very clever."

"It really isn't..." I dismiss, blushing slightly and giggling it away like I am four only and not more than that in millennia.

"Well, about your armour. I've kept it in perfect condition and you should be able to put it on right now without issues, even." Muholdt explains to me before he hooks the key securely onto his belt.

"Thank you, I'm sorry if it's been a bother." I say, stepping towards the crimson-painted plate. My hand enters the empty socket intended for my talisman. Only, I can't help but sigh in thought about my people. The power gem I've borrowed, without permission, would go in something like this. And, well, this one I have is so old it has no charge left and seems to have been looted long before it was dug up again.

"No, no, of course not. We at Mechanical House have been more than happy to have the work of an unknown people present within our facilities." he tells me and I try to at least smile at the idea that there are still remnants of my people out there. But are the people?

"You might want to get in touch with the Archaeology Club if you like it that much. I've just found out they've had some contact with ruins that at the very least, have a single trace of the technology of my people." I say, holding out the power gem for him to look at. But, rather than taking it, he looks towards my talisman with a curious glint in his eyes.

"Is that so? We tend to head modern technological development, but, all learning is built upon the wisdom of our elders and ancestors. So we might be able to make something of it. However, what you have around your neck is the greatest prize of all." he rightly points out and I start to nod, protectively grasping my shield-making artefact.

"It's certainly more than what you will find in ruins, but, I cannot let anyone else have this. God gave this to me for a reason, I just need to find out what." I say and he nods in acceptance, his eyes turning towards the statue.

"Not everything the divine makes has deep meaning. Sometimes we know what it's for the moment we get it, not much else to them." Muholdt explains and I can't help but shake my head.

"This isn't just some tool, it's a gift with power that I've been neglecting to use..." I almost mutter and he gently knocks my shoulder with the back of his hand.

"Anyway, we best start getting this ready to be moved, shouldn't we?" he points out as I put the power gem away. Yet, rather than helping him find a sack truck and a mannequin to go on it or a box. I head for my armour instead.

"I'll just be putting it straight on, if that is alright, Muholdt? I need to make sure it fits, admittedly, running a cakesmithy can give one a little too much access to sweets." I say, giggling towards the end and he shrugs, heading back to the armour.

"You should be fine, you already had the foresight to give the armour adjustable strapping and you don't strike me as having grown a notable belly." he points out in all professionalism. Still...

"Hey!" I snap, moving closer to my armour while hiding my tummy, slightly.

"If we take it back to my office, I'll let you change in there so you have some privacy away from any of the boys who might be putting on or taking off their own overalls." Muholdt explains as he unhooks the frame my armour is on before he grasps it in the best places. Though the tail will need to be carried separately, its length clearly being more trouble than it is worth even when in storage.

"You look fine carrying that, so I'll take this." I tell him, smiling as I gently grasp the lighter weight. Yet, even then, he makes little work of his larger load and in turn, my slower movements make it seem like the tail is heavier.

Looking into the gaps in my armour, I hide myself away in my thoughts while I fiddle. The plate should hold up, I made it using the best magic-injecting forges I could find in this building. Mixed with the power of the God of the Ddrai'och and I should be near invincible. Still, I should probably double-check that I can still use this properly, Nin won't even consider my help if I am nothing but a liability.

"Assuming that Inerish doesn't stop me..." I bitterly grumble.