My hands tingled as the lathe spun to life. It didn't have the hum I was so used to from Earth, the gears being run by magic instead of an electric motor, but it did make a slight sighing noise. The machine was so quiet, nearly a whisper, a whisper of what it could do, what it could make. These were the tools of civilization, of the bringing of people from the medieval era to the modern one.

There was no doubt in my mind that the metal lathe had been the key, the absolute key to the industrial revolution, and that was true both here and back where I'd come from. The ability to make accurate machine parts for little money had changed the way the world worked. Perhaps there'd been some inklings of it in this world before, with the power of magic, but now the common man had access to it as well.

Simon had insisted that we make the bits for his paramour first, and I was happy as anything to comply. The first would be a tulip, which as far as I could tell, existed here in exactly the same form as it had in my first world. The long, cylinder began to spin, and I began my work.

We'd already cut out a cross-section, to form the petals, but I needed to bring things down, shape and alter, but by tiny bit. Small slivers of metal, pulled away as I worked the tools where they needed to sit, shaved by blades with careful precision. I lost myself as I went, careful to prevent any overly sharp edges on the end product. Once the bud was done I finished out the stem, it would be a simple length, not quite a foot long, the brass of the thing polished to a brilliant shine.

Once the first was done I sat it to the side and began the next. A lot of flowers couldn't be made exactly, at least not with this tool, but several renditions of them could be made to work. It was a refreshing exercise, something different. So much of my work had to be exacting, pushed to the very limits of what I could make fit, measured and absolutely smooth. Not this though, this wasn't the artwork of perfect machines moving in ideal ways, no this was a different art, one where flaws, organic curves and angles were not just acceptable, but ideal.

After my third piece I turned to see Simon, engrossed in what I'd been doing, and beside him Professor Turner, the metalworking teacher looked pleased.

“Not a complex piece, but well done,” he said as he examined my work. “And quite lovely. Would you mind if I used the design as an example one? Something the other students should be able to manage.”

“No sir, please feel free.” After all, I wasn't the one who'd thought of the idea of turning flowers, though admittedly most of the ones done on Earth had been done in wood rather than metal.

Once the flowers were done I began work on Simon's pieces, well, those and several extras, because I wanted some items as well. He was willing to make a few additional items without complaint, because of what I was doing and I was going to take advantage of it. They'd all be shaped rather like small bowls or vases, simple enough, small, and perfectly good for their purpose.

Honestly, when I'd first considered designs I'd wanted to make them all look like adult toys, things nobody would recognize but would give me no end of humor. Sadly though, someone had taken the time to make such things in the past, and so I had to abandon that plan lest they be seen for what they were. This meant that I couldn't give Simon a wall of magical butt-plugs to heat, cool, or light his room with, a sad day for humor everywhere. Even if I had the mind of an adult, I was bound and determined to maintain the humor of a child, if not, what was the point?

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It took time, but time flew as I worked, and before I knew it not only was most of the day gone, but I was done. One by one my projects were lined up, placed along the counter. Simon was pleased, I was pleased, the professor had decided at some point that we weren't causing trouble and let us alone. We could cause trouble now, but why break his trust? It was all well and good, all ready for the next step.

I cleaned up, making sure not to leave my workspace a mess. Shavings went into bins, tools were confirmed to be off and set correctly. There was a protocol for all of this, ways of working that would make it so that whoever came next wouldn't have problems, and such things were important.

By the time everything was said and done it was easily time for lunch, so the two of us took a break.

“I love these,” Simon said, picking up one of the flowers I'd made. “And I'm sure Priscilla will too.”

“Excellent, glad to hear it,” I said, before taking a spoon to the hearty stew the school was serving.

“Others might want them too, the professor's right.”

“Then they can make them, it isn't hard.” He laughed at that, shaking his head.

“No lady in your life that you'd want to get a gift?”

I thought for a minute, then frowned. Rowenna would probably love something I made, and be understandably peeved should she learn that I was making things for other girls but not her. Was I sure that I wanted to end up with her? No, but I was absolutely sure that I didn't want the kind of trouble that could cause.

“I'll think of something else, repeating the same thing for two girls would be a bit crass wouldn't it?” As I spoke I was spinning up plans in my head. “Don't suppose I could convince you to help me when the time comes around?” I asked.

“Of course, though really you should finish your own core.”

“I know, I know, it's just scheduling.” That was an excuse, and he was right, doing so would strengthen me significantly.

When we finally finished it was my turn to watch him work. None of the tools here were actually required for making an item into a magical one, that could be done manually, but they helped. They made sure that the central part of the item, its own core so to speak, was well hidden within it and were good for applying quick finishing touches.

Every item had a core, just like people did, and in fact, they came from the maker themselves, a copying function from each person who had one. Unlike making the human version the item's was quick, rapidly assembled within whatever shell you were creating to contain it. The rune sequences, previously looking much like a written coding screen in the mental space where they were laid out snaked their way along the item in question. These could be hidden, jumbled in such a way that they became nonsense, but for something like we were doing there was no point.

Professor Ruian watched us like hawks the whole time. It was clear that she still had a pretty low opinion of our previous antics, but there was also a small smile when she saw the items we'd prepared for the process.

Even these weren't technically needed, since a magical item could be any shape you wanted. For the sake of efficiency most of them were spheres, contained within other, decorative pieces. Spheres were by far the most efficient shape, though nobody really knew why. Unfortunately if you used one it was only the sphere itself which functioned as the item. This was fine for most things, and could be worked around with proper rune usage, but having the whole item itself be magical had other advantages. It was easier to charge such things, and they also simply shouted what they were, for appearances sake.

Simon took his time, after all, this was a delicate process, and not one that could be repeated if he failed. For the first time a magical item was deemed complete would be the last time, the runes locking themselves in and becoming unchangeable. It meant that if he screwed up even a bit here, there was no fixing it, we'd have to start again from scratch.

It took a couple of hours, but eventually Simon too finished his part. Unlike Professor Turner, who'd shown interest, but quickly let us to ourselves Professor Ruian stayed with us the whole time. She even inspected each construct as it finished, testing it carefully to make sure it did what we said it did.

“Done,” Simon finally declared, looking exhausted as he sat down what should now be a lamp.

“Hmm,” the teacher said, picking up the device and pumping a bit of mana into it.

The runes along the surface lit up as they absorbed her power, showing how much energy was in it. This was how people knew when to charge things, and even served as a good measure of energy for an otherwise difficult concept to explain like the amount of mana in something.

“Very well,” the professor finally declared. “Good work boys, if only some of your classmates would show such creativity, focused on positive results, we might well see a new era.”

“Thank you ma'am,” we offered her in succession, and she shooed us off, it was after all getting on in the day.