Chapter 1

5 AID Kinsmouth Town

Enin

A carriage, pulled by massive clockwork horses, rattled along the path between Kinsmouth and the Faber’s Smithy. The town had grown in the last ten years, with tall steam- and smokestacks reaching into the air high above the new foundries and factories. Steamboats and cargo barges fought for space up and down the docks miles away, the dark gray of the river Kidder stained with iridescent oil spilling into Kin Bay. A tanker marked with the Royal Aether Seal had foundered some days ago and spilled its massively expensive cargo into the river, causing much consternation with officials and citizenry alike.

As the carriage drew closer, two pairs of eyes, one set a dark turbulent blue and the other a piercing silver, peered from an open window on the ground floor of the small two-story house. Even in winter, the heat of the forge next door, pumped in through clever tubes and tunnels, kept the modest home sweltering. The owners of the eyes, a young girl and boy, watched with open mouths as the massive steads came to a halt outside the forge. The seal, marked where eyes would be on a natural horse, was of a water well, encircled by a hedge of protective thorns.

A slim, older man stepped down from the fleet carriage, the same seal on the right breast of his long, flared coat. The eyes immediately locked onto him. The golden pin on his collar, like the one their father owned, was in the shape of a cog wheel. The only difference from their father’s was this one had a slim, silver chisel over the cog, as opposed to a golden star.

The man, brown hair graying at the temples, stepped up to the door quickly, his breath pluming in the cold air. He knocked. The door stayed resolutely shut.

The children shared a look, matching smiles flashes of white in the dark shadows they hid in. They both knew not to interrupt their father or older brother when they were working and were pleased to see others endure the awkward silence. They watched as the older man sighed and rubbed at his eyes, hidden beneath a pair of dark spectacles. Then he spoke, his voice softly accented with the rich tones of the rich and powerful.

“You know, as someone who has known you for years, and whom you agreed to meet with, it is most unbecoming to leave me standing out here in the cold.”

Silence answered him, though the small children had to stifle laughter. The man took off his specs, his eyes narrowed in consternation while his mouth curved into a slight grin.

“Are you going to make me beg old man?” He paused, then continued, his voice taking on a sarcastic pleading tone, “Please, oh master of the arts of artifice, help this pitiful novice in his work, teach him to…”

The man trailed off, his smile a full-bodied thing now, as the door opened. The children hurriedly ducked under the windowsill as their father, a bear of a man easily dwarfing the other man, glowered down at his visitor, who grinned and spoke.

“Really, Thomas, it’s most uncourteous to leave an old friend out in the snow.”

The bear huffed a laugh, his glower still in place “What about leaving an insolent wretch pleading for me to pull his bacon out of the fire in the snow?” He paused, then looked over the smaller man’s head toward to the house and raised his voice, “And maybe I can send two little rascals who should have better manners out here to stay with him! Front and center!”

The two children, who had resumed peering over the edge, cringed. Slowly, they made their way out the front door and down to the forge, where their father was now grinning and chatting with the stranger. Heads down, they marched forward.

Their father, still grinning, introduced them. “My two youngest, the twins. Adrianna and Enin. Their tenth name day is today, so they aren’t at school. Making trouble here, instead, it seems. Adri, Enin, this is Master Fortus, a long-time friend. Say hello.”

Adri, always the social one, lifted her chin high and stepped forward, hand outstretched, “Happy to meet you, Master Fortus!”

Enin was a step away, following one in the protective shadow of his sister. He bowed slightly at the waist, “Welcome to our home, sir.”

Fortus’s smile widened as he shook and then bowed as well. “Well met, the both of you. You look so much like your mother, thankfully.”

Thomas snorted twin cones of steam into the cold air. “Yes, well, they are lucky indeed. Now, hurry along back to your chores, you two. Lots to do for the party tonight.”

“Oh, let them stay. They can look at what I've brought. They might even see something you or I don’t.”

Thomas looked down to matching wide-eyed stares, pleading eyes locked on his. He sighed. “I suppose, since it is a special day, you can watch. But quietly. And don’t touch anything, understand?”

Two heads nodded in sync, smiles breaking out on both. Thomas shook his head again, meeting Fortus’s eyes over the twins. He stepped back, clearing the doorway. The group walked in.

The twins immediately waved at the young man already in the room, who was carefully watching the forge placed in the center of the building, directly below an opening in the roof. Their older brother, Mack, waved back distractedly, his attention barely diverted from the metal slowly heating in flames. His arm worked the bellows, providing a constant stream of air to the forge. The twins hurried to a table against the side of the building, grabbing polishing cloths and settling down to help buff some of the almost finished works resting there.

Behind the twins, Fortus and Thomas strode in, carrying a long wooden chest between them. It was similar to several already in the shop, each made to carry finished works. The two men set it down on the central work table near the entrance, its thump drawing even Mack’s attention. Fortus carefully undid several locks and clasps before opening the chest and stepping aside so Thomas could peer inside, which he did. The twins tried to catch a glimpse of whatever was inside, to no avail.

Thomas let out a low whistle. Reaching inside, he removed a sleeve of intricately embellished steel plates, set onto a glove of chainmail that looked like it would reach the shoulder of the wearer. Thin runes, etched in silver, adorned the red-painted steel plates, while the mail shone blue in the well-lit room.

Thomas carefully traced the runes, eyes running over the shapes quickly. He frowned in concentration and paused at the shoulder pauldron. His frown deepened.

“Fortus, who is this for? Because it couldn’t possibly be for the young Lady Thornwell, whose introduction to the court is this very night, right? This couldn’t possibly be your gift to her ladyship, the very gift from the artificers.”

Fortus took on a slightly pained look but stood tall and proud, “Why couldn’t it be? The gloves are well made. They would be a suitable gift for any noble, especially with the aether abilities included.”

“Yes, it would be a wonderful work of art and artifice, an incredibly useful tool to any noble house. That is, it would if it bloody WORKED! Fortus, please tell me you didn’t bring this here because you want me to do a rush job. You know I hate that,”

Fortus grimaced and shrugged, “It…might be?”

Thomas ground his teeth, glaring at his friend. “How long do I have? “

Pulling out a watch, Fortus did some quick mental calculations. “Just under 4 hours. Do you know what’s wrong with it? I thought the inscriptions were spot on.”

The other man snorted, “ They’re a work of art. You are, however, doing too much. These engravings will capture an amazing amount of aether, but these gloves have, what, collapsible swords, shields, spears, channeling conduits, and some moderate neutral shielding? All powered by the aether of movement?”

“And force collected from some sparing required before activation, as well as being bonded! They should have more than enough energy!” Fortus said crossly, “Also, they should be able to track enemies and act as a sensor for other workings, as well as grow as she ages.”

Thomas grinned, “Double inscribed plates and you thought movement and binding it to a 10-year-old would be enough? Where are your calculations?”

The thin man pulled a satchel from the wooden chest, as well as a second metal glove. He gave the former to Thomas and laid the latter by its twin. This one, while the same color, had clawed nails instead of the rounded fingers of the other hand. Enin, watching from where he and Adri continued to polish shields and some specialty tools, thought this one looked less armored as well. It was, in his mind, a blade, while the other was a shield. The beauty of it took his breath away.

As Thomas and Fortus moved to another end of the table to spread out sheets of paper filled with numbers, Adri jogged his elbow.

“Want to get a closer look? All Dad said was no touching, after all.” She was as curious as Enin was, just more willing to show it.

Enin nodded, and whispered, “Just make sure not to touch it Adri. Don’t get us in trouble!”

She scoffed, “I would never.”

Enin raised his brows in disbelief but followed his sister up to the table. They peered up at the intricate metal. They noticed, for the first time, the leather straps that would cross the upper chest along the collarbone; they noticed the inside of the mail wasn’t bare metal, but linen and silk; they even noticed that the insignia on the shoulder was the same as the one on the carriage and Fortus’s tunic and that it was repeated on the wooden chest. Then their observations deviated.

Adri, ever the fighter, noticed that the knuckles of each finger were reinforced and that, while polished, none of the engravings shone. Each was a mat symbol as if it were waiting to be inlaid with something. Adri thought it would be easy to show those snotty boys and girls from school what was up with this. She also noticed that the gloves would almost fit her. It was just barely too small.

If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

Enin, on the other hand, was enraptured by the artistry of the gloves. They shimmered, each plate and link inscribed with tiny runes and symbols. He traced the symbols with his eyes, slowly recognizing them from the books his father kept in the forge. These, however, were far more complex than the simple strings he had seen before. These looked like epic poetry, each adding to the overall piece to make a far stronger whole. Enin’s eyes traced up and down the lines of inscriptions and then paused one a larger mark, just under the seal on the pauldron. He looked at the other glove, seeing the same thing. His small brow creased into a frown.

Reaching out a finger, he traced one of the runes, mouthing a word, “Wrong.”

Thoughts flew through the young boy’s mind. This one symbol was, inexplicably, wrong. It was hanging, like a half-completed sentence. It was missing something, something that was flitting around right at the edge of his thoughts.

A hand flashed out and grabbed Enin’s finger, dragging it away from the metal. “What are you thinking? Dad will kill us if you mess it up!”

Adri’s hissed words as she dragged Enin away startled him back to reality. He shook off her grip and hustled over to the planning table, grabbing a charcoal stick and a page of drafting paper. He hurried back to the gloves, dodging around his older brother, who finally let go of the bellows.

“Careful there Enin! I’m about to pull this out! Wouldn’t want you to get burned.”

Enin waved at his brother, distracted as he was. Mack looked over at Adri, confusion writ large on his face. His sister shrugged, just as confused as he was. She waited until he settled the hot metal, held in place with tongs, onto an anvil and commenced hammering on it before she resumed her chase of her twin.

Enin, his pace slowed not at all, was already carefully copying the problem rune onto the paper. With firm, confident strokes of the charcoal, he completed the complex knot of lines. Then he paused.

Adri, finally caught up to her sibling, poked him in the side. Enin flinched away, his eyes going wide when he realized his sister was glaring at him.

“What are you doing?” she half shouted, half-whispered.

Enin slowly blinked at her, then pointed to the drawing, “Fixing it.”

Adri looked at her brother incredulously. He couldn’t be serious. This was quite obviously the work of a master craftsman, something a Master of Artifice would spend years on. This wasn’t something that could be fixed by a ten-year-old boy who had not even 5 years of BEING in a forge, much less making things. What could he do?

Not getting a response from his sister, Enin went back to his drawing. With half a dozen quick, sure movements of the charcoal, he added a second part to the symbol. Looking at it, imagining it on the glove, Enin felt confident it would work far better.

“Look at that, Thomas. The lad has taken an interest in the Protection spell.” The stranger, Master Fortus, had approached the table. He was finished with his conversation with Enin’s father and had left the other man to his work. Thomas, scribbling furiously on plans, at the other end of the table, looked up, his charcoal and ruler pressed against what appeared to be schematics of the gloves. He peered at his visitor as Enin hurriedly backed away from the gloves. Fearing he was in trouble, he started mumbling half-formed apologies. Fortus, however, wasn’t paying attention.

He stared at the simple lines on the paper. His brow creased and he picked it up, tracing the shapes in the air. With mirrored jerks of amazement, Enin and Adri watched as the shapes drew themselves out in flurries of blue sparks. They were frozen in shock and amazement. Mack, over by the forge, looked on in interest, more academic than incredulous.

Thomas spoke, voice confused, “That’s not on the armor, is it? Because I’ve never seen a rune like that before. Did you invent it?” his voice turned amused, “Showing off now in your old age, hmm Fortus?”

Fortus, stunned into silence, slowly shook his head. He looked around, then picked up a metal plate, a shield blank for a buckler, and pressed the glowing writing into it. The metal immediately dimpled, lines appearing like it had been engraved. He picked it up, flipping it in his hands a few times before setting it back down. Fortus then turned and, with a quick motion, grabbed a hammer and smashed down on the shield!

Startled by the sudden motion, Thomas took a quick step forward, as if to interfere in the action. Then, he paused. Fortus turned toward him and showed the hammer. The very broken hammer. He spoke very quietly.

“A 5-pound, hardened steel hammer. Against unhardened steel. No channeling, no bonding. Just the movement in the air and it shattered. The second symbol is a type of efficiency, but one I've never seen.”

Enin frowned, then spoke up, “No it isn’t. It’s a control. Allows energy to be…gathered? And then…turned? Yeah, turned against an attack. But not turned all at once. Just enough for each one. Then it stores it, and some of the leftovers from the attack.”

The two older men turned, gazing at where Enin peered at the shield from behind Adri. His eyes met theirs, then immediately snapped toward the ground.

He spoke in a mumble, talking to the ground, “I’m sorry. I just wanted to fix it.”

Adri lept to his defense, glaring at the older men, “He didn’t do anything wrong! It isn’t like he messed up the fancy gloves or anything!”

Mack stepped forward, placing his hand on his younger siblings' shoulders. “I don’t think they’re mad, Adri. I think Enin surprised them is all.”

Indeed, the older man still stared at the young boy in amazement. Festus was the one to break the silence first.

With an impressive booming sound from someone so small, he started laughing in amazement.

Thomas, gaping, turned toward the laughing figure, “Did he…”

Fortus, tears running down his face, nodded.

Thomas continued, “And this could solve the energy problems?”

Fortus, finally gathering himself together with difficulty, nodded again, “Though it would be best to also include your plans, secondary as they now. I see you’ve been teaching them well! Inventing a new, hyper-effective channeling and storage rune! As a ten-year-old! He could only be your son Thomas; a chip off the old block!”

Thomas turned back toward Enin. His gaze glowed with pride, amazement in his voice, “I haven’t even introduced them to Aether's work yet! Just some of the primer books! Enin, where did this come from?”

Enin, happily surprised at the amazement, shrugged self-consciously, “It was just…right. That all. The line seemed incomplete without it.”

“So you didn’t see this in a book or anything like that?” Fortus was just as amazed as Thomas. His voice was incredulous.

Enin shook his head, “No. just in here.” He gestured toward his head.

Mack, gazing down at his little brother in mild amazement, shook his head. Adri frowned at everyone in confusion.

“What happened?”

Fortus was the one to speak first, “Young Enin here did something we have been trying to do for ages: make an Aether Protection function off of just the motion of everyday activity. It’s simply impressive, he is impressive!”

Adri scowled at the ground and mumbled under her breath, “He still can’t throw a punch. Or swing a sword.”

Mack, Thomas, and Fortus all chuckled at that. Fortus, shaking his head, started gathering tools and metal from around the forge, still chuckling under his breath. Mack went back to his project, trusting the now-cooled metal back into the flames.

Thomas, for his part, went to one knee in front of his younger children, talking quietly, “Yes, I know Adri. He needs to work on his skills with you. But it is impressive.” His gaze locked onto Enin’s, “From now on, the both of you come here after school. I’ll start teaching you the trade.” Adri’s scowl deepened, but she said nothing, “And Enin? Promise me you won’t make any more of these runes unless you are in the forge, ok? Just so you don’t get hurt. But when you are in here, write down as many as your mind can think up. We’ll test them, all of us together.”

Adri and Enin nodded, “Yes, Father.”

Thomas smiled. “Good. Now run along to your mother and tell her what you did. I have to get to work. And make sure that your birthday feast is coming along well, alright?”

The mention of their impending celebration distracted the twins. They both lept to obey their father, hurrying from the forge, their laughter drifting through the closing door.

Fortus, his arms filled with supplies, walked back, still grinning. “He’s going to be something, you know that right? Already inventing runes. Already reading runes is impressive for his age.”

Thomas nodded, still gazing toward the now-shut door.

Mack called from his spot by the forge, still intent on his project, “It was kind of obvious from the beginning, Dad. If you haven’t noticed, he’s been sneaking in and reading all the books in the backroom he can get his hands on.”

“I thought he just found the illustrations of the weapons and tools interesting. I didn’t think he was actually reading the damn things.” Thomas sounded proud rather than angry. It is past time for him to start his actual apprenticeship. Adri should as well.”

Mack snorted, “Yeah, because she has been SO inclined to pay attention to what you have been teaching her. She would rather be out beating the piss out of anyone willing to face her.”

Thomas grimaced in agreement, “That is true. I would be annoyed, but…well, she keeps winning. I may have to find her a different apprenticeship. One with more swords.”

The two men shared a smile while Fortus chuckled in the background. He drew their attention.

“Much as I love this conversation, perhaps we could get on with the purpose of this visit? Adding Enin’s rune with solve the problem, but I’d still like the backup of the Aeither Oil reserve since you drew up the plans all nice and pretty.”

“Well, if you insist. Though you should be able to follow such simple directions yourself with relative ease.” Thomas’s joking reply set them back to their respective works,

***

Enin

That night, after Fortus had left with the modified gloves and a heartfelt invitation to visit again from Thomas and Effie, his wife, and the celebration had ended, Enin sat awake in his bed. He peered out the second-story window, gazing toward the forge and past it, toward Kinsmouth.

His notebook for school, made of stiff leather sheets for covers and metal rings for binding, lay in his lap. Covering the pages of paper were sketches. These were the detailed plans of future projects; armor, swords, shields, hammers, and, center of the page, a detailed metal cane. Each was accompanied by a materials list, countless measurements, and detailed dimensions. Dangling from his fingers was a leather-wrapped stick of wood, the end black where it had been burned.

Enin was deep in his thoughts, the events of the day flying through his mind. Not just the joking, grinning Master Fortus, but also the party after his departure. Enin had enjoyed the dancing, the laughter, and the food. He had enjoyed the large crowds from the town less. He pondered this with a rare seriousness for a ten-year-old. He liked the silence of the forests surrounding the town, the bellow of the forge, and the musical rhythm of a hammer on metal, but he disliked the bustle of the docks or the marketplace.

It was, he thought, just his personality. In times like this, the quiet silence of chilly late winter nights, he could think.

Returning to his notebook, Enin flipped to the back. In neat rows, runes painstakingly copied from his father’s books in the forge took up almost two pages. He was worried slightly, after his father’s warning earlier, about writing down runes, but these had been copied down months ago and hadn’t caused any problems. Crying internally at disobeying his father, Enin flipped to a new page and carefully added the rune he had created that day. It wasn’t that he liked to do it, but he had to have a record of all the runes he knew, especially ones he made himself!

Sighing, Enin closed the book. Time for bed, he thought. After all, he just had to get through school and then he got to learn! Learn things he actually cared about! Excitement burned in his chest. There was no way he was going to be able to sleep tonight, but he had to try.

The moment he got in bed and covered himself in his blankets, Enin was asleep. His dreams were filled with the sound of metal on metal, the roar of a bellows, and half-formed images of runes.