Back in my workshop, I prepared one enchanted rod to lift stone. The Pódi Deluxe could hold 300 kg but I needed a version of that enchantment that would lift tons without getting stuck in place. I dedicated hours to the figurative drawing board to modify the enchantment parameters, remove the immovable property and convert it into a rune sequence. {Rune Scriber} had steadily grown during the last days of work and I finally could purchase a new Ability.
> Rune Scriber (**) [ 109 ]. Select 1 Ability
>
> * Rune Grammar: You can write a specific sequence of runes that codify meaning. Increase Points from runes by (Proficiency/5)%. [Currently: 31%]
At my current Proficiency level and Attributes, I could write at most a 25 rune sequence on the surface of a ring. Each was worth 5 points and the grammar increased the total value to 163 points, 219 if I enchanted during the crafting process using {Enchanted Crafter}. Not bad, the equivalent of a small gemstone for no material cost but time. Bigger structures accepted more runes before I ran out of space. The portals I made held around two thousand runes each but each granted fewer points because my proficiency was lower at the time.
With my new ability, it was easier to transcribe the effect I wanted. Basically, weight cancellation. Then another sequence, for stone strengthening and repair. I didn’t want cracks in the floating island compromising the structure. Worse, given the nature of my enemies, I expected the island to come under attack. Then I added another effect, to cancel Earth magic effects cast by others on the stone. Couldn’t let them steal material either. The rods would burrow and close the hole behind them, becoming firmly anchored in the surrounding rock.
Upon review, I noticed I’d committed a small mistake. Canceling the weight was good, but what I wanted was positive buoyancy so the stone substrate could hold trees, buildings, and people. Fortunately, I needed to change four runes in the original sequence to add this caveat. Now instead of weight cancellation, it would generate a negative gradient that would push the stone upward slightly. A brief physics review told me I needed to control the height with ballast. Then an emergency mechanism would land the island safely in case of an emergency.
I wouldn’t solve all these problems with only one enchantment. I intended to use several just as I did with the substrate of the rusty figs. I didn’t put air, water, and heat in the same stone. Each stone had its own function and working parameters. I wanted several rods of the same type because it was cheaper to enchant (compared to one single enchantment to lift everything) and it didn't offer a single point of failure. I once played a D&D campaign where our party felled one such floating island of the Nether-Grease civilization (much bigger than what I intended to do, it was a floating city-state) by destroying its massive magical core. Nope.
Therefore, I designed three types of stone-screwing dildos. I mean, burrowing rods. The first was the most numerous, the negative weight type was subordinate to the other two. Meaning that when any conflict appeared, they would defer to the other two. The second type would communicate between them and a control scepter to modify the weight of the rock around them. This way I could adjust the height of the island. The third type was an emergency landing rod that would activate only in case of a fall to control the landing of the debris around it, hopefully avoiding people underneath. They would also control the fall of people near them.
All of them needed MP storage and generation to sustain their effects. I had to add those too. With the final sequence ready to inscribe, I calculated the size of the rods and started working. I forged long copper dowels around an inch of width and cut them in rods half a meter in length. They would receive gold plating and specially cut gems to complete the necessary enchantment points, greatly reduced by the engraved runes.
I didn’t use {Grandmaster’s Patience} as the bump in quality wasn’t necessary and would delay the already time-consuming process even more. One rod with four times the capacity wasn’t worth the time it took to make ten with normal capacity.
Once I had several sets of the three types of rods, I did a proof-of-concept test. I went to the mountains near Windemere. Over a Force platform, I placed one of the small keeps from the southern human passage near Fulgen. I started to add rods underneath the keep and watched as they burrowed into the stone and closed the hole, leaving no trace of their passage. As they activated, the pressure on the Force effect (and its maintenance cost) sharply decreased. I also noticed that the keep walls changed slightly, the cracks in the stone smoothing out and vanishing. I kept adding rods until the keep weighed nothing. From there I added the other two types and smiled as the keep started to lift in the air. I climbed aboard before it could drift away with the wind.
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It was slow. While the weight was canceled, the mass wasn’t. Acceleration had to affect the stone structure and the mountain breeze wasn’t too strong. It showed me I needed a fourth type of rod, those with the immovable property to keep the keep anchored in space. I mean, anchored relative to the surface because if it was truly anchored in space it would be catapulted into actual outer space.
Using the control mechanism, another rod because that was the shape-of-the-week, I lowered the keep until it gently landed on the mountain a hundred meters from the original point. I added more weight to keep it firmly in place and went back to the workshop. On my way, I thought about a fifth type of rod, or maybe panel this time. No, rod it is. This fifth type would create an illusion of the sky above underneath the floating rock, to camouflage it from the surface dwellers. Should I add steering too? A Force effect pushing the whole island could be created externally.
With the new rods added to the keep, I drove it back to Windemere. It was slow enough to make a slug bored so I just climbed up and anchored it in place a few hundred meters above the mountain top. I flew down and checked. The illusion wasn’t perfect and it wasn’t meant to be. To start, it was an image projected underneath the rock, not invisibility. Which meant the angle of capture was static for everyone regardless of the observer’s position. Second, each illusion rod projected its own image, creating a kaleidoscopic effect resembling a fractal sky. Still better than naked rock but it could be improved. I should not attempt to make the illusion perfect as I did. It should be blurred and misty, then it would… be confused with a cloud. Or I should just simplify it and throw the illusion of a cloud under the backdrop of the current sky’s level of illumination. I didn’t want to show baby blue at night if disguise was my intent.
Back to the drawing board.
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Central Auvanini was dominated by a monstrous mountain range. Lakerta once found a hidden castle nestled deep in these mountains where the slave traders' leadership gathered. Once more I flew over these mountains, looking for the perfect peak to shear off and enchant. I didn't leave the thousand-kilometer DDZ (De-Dragonized Zone. Like a DMZ but swapping “Military” for “Dragon”). After searching for a few hours, I found the one. A solid granite peak that wouldn't chip or break easily. I sheared it with a massive Force sheet and stored it in the item box. If one drew a rectangle inside what was left of the mountain top, it was the equivalent of thirty football fields or around forty acres. A bit less because I needed to leave borders. Putting stuff too close to the edge of a floating island wasn't very wise. In fact, I might want to raise a small wall around the perimeter.
I drew a ritual circle on the (now) flat mountain top and activated it. I brought the top out, flipped upside-down. It floated above the circle. The first task was to make sure it was one solid piece of rock. Earth magic was more than enough for that as I knitted every single crack and joined the different stone veins together. It had no minerals worth of extraction. I also filled out some indents by adding more material from the mountain below, to increase the useful surface area. After some consideration, I added a two-wide by three-meter-tall band of stone all around the outer perimeter. I wanted to fill the inside with a dirt substrate to let vegetation take root. I also hollowed out the center of the peak, creating a massive space where I could install some facilities and appliances, like a dungeon (lowercase D), warehouses, or secret labs like every villain had the right to. It also reduced the number of rods I needed to keep everything afloat.
I inserted and removed it several times from the item box, extrapolating the mass from the Energy cost to store the item. I should really pay more attention to that. Back at the workshop, I crafted rods until I had more than enough for what I wanted to do. It paid to have added redundancy. Two weeks later, I went back to the sheared peak, removed the accumulated snow, and reactivated the ritual.
Flying around it, I started to insert engraved rods into the bottom of the granite island. As the rods burrowed into the stone and activated, they reduced the pressure on the ritual circle (and its maintenance cost). Part of the ritual allowed me to sense where it was still heavy, allowing me to distribute the rods evenly. Once it was almost floating away, I added the control rods where the buoyancy ones already settled in, then smoothed everything out to leave the lift equally balanced around the island’s center of mass. Satisfied with the lift, I canceled the ritual and held my breath. The floating rock remained where it was. I went underneath again and added the remaining sets of rods. The final result was very buoyant and only stayed in place because the ballast rods were on maximum weight. That was because I would add tons upon tons of soil and buildings on it so I needed to counter that weight.
Attuning everything to my control scepter (I finally decided the shape it should have), I made the island float a thousand meters above the sheared peak and took a flight around and underneath it, to check everything. I landed on a nearby plateau and looked up. A casual observer would think it was a stationary cloud.
Back to the island, I touched it and stored it in the item box. I would finish it above Windemere. I still needed to get soil from elsewhere, add the buildings and merge their foundations with the island, add a hidden staircase to the underground space, fill the remaining space with the dirt, then add vegetation, especially the rusty fig portal near the center, linked to the small park in Windemere.
But as I flew north back home, I couldn’t stop grinning. Avoiding the obvious pitfalls, I agreed to be happy but I didn’t want to jinx it.