Balin and several of the best artisans within Akeroyd Peak meandered around the canvases I laid out. After almost six hours of explanation, Balin gained enough confidence in my plans to summon the artisans who would be responsible for leading the effort. What followed was another eight hours of meetings, questions, eating, and drinking. Their open and rambunctious demeanor reminded me of Derek, the royal blacksmith. He was also a dwarf of Akeroyd and the best weaponsmith in all of Renalis.
Even Anna came up in conversation. She was widely acknowledged as the top seamstress and was one of the few humans to best the dwarves’ artisanship, much to their chagrin. I smiled when they asked me about my 2nd fiance. Though she was only 1st Level, none denied her proficiency and greatly respected her work, especially when she was single-handedly revitalizing the Renalian textile industry with new and exciting fashions courtesy of my memories of modern clothing and styles.
The dwarves of Akeroyd maintained their crafts but other than building Veles and several other cities in Renalis, they did not construct much else in over 4,000 years. Most of their time was spent forging weapons and armor to trade or give to the Alliance. Their reputation as smiths were one of the reasons Renalis was not ousted entirely from the Alliance despite ignoring the quota for almost 25 years straight.
So, the notion of building a great railroad from Renalis all the way to Calais made their blood boil with anticipation. Before I realized it, I was a bystander, listening into the plans being concocted by the gathered artisans. Some would work on the train itself, others would focus on the metallurgy required and many would be responsible for the logistical burden.
Balin and I shared a cask of sweet mead while the rest conversed. These men and women were the experts, all I had to do was ignite the passion and provide a spark of inspiration. Already, alterations to the schematics I gave them were being written over and revised with magical supplements and changes.
So we’re going steampunk, now?
“You look disappointed, Ranger Levin,” Balin chided and refilled his mug.
“No, this is great. I didn’t think about adding magic to my idea.” I toasted Balin and drained my mug.
“Just leave the rest to us. Now that we know what you and the Queen wish to accomplish, we’ll gladly break our backs to forge a bright and shining future for the kingdom. Long live the Queen.”
I refilled my mug and bashed it against Balin’s spilling froth and liquor all over our hands.
“Yeah, long live my wife!”
Balin blinked once, grinned, and drank heartily. I did likewise.
“I’ll be counting on you to protect her, this time.” Balin said quietly. “My people, in our isolation and complacency, failed the royal family in their time of greatest need. We were once the most loyal retainers of Goldfire Renala. To know her final dragonkin was almost wiped out during my stewardship brings great shame upon myself and my ancestors.”
I nodded resolutely at Balin.
“She’s my wife. I won’t let anything happen to her.”
We shared several more mugs before I helped him out of the meeting room and into his bed chamber. Thanks to my Constitution, I could have easily drained that entire cask dry myself, so I walked myself back to my own room to find Renala already sleeping. She cracked one large eye at me as I walked in and huffed a smokey breath in annoyance.
I wrapped my arms around her neck and stroked her eye ridge.
“Sorry hun, go back to bed.” I cooed and kissed the top of her eye lid. It slid shut and I waited for the gentle rise and fall of her chest before I started moving around again. This time, I was careful to make as little noise as possible. I rolled into my bed and stared up at the unfamiliar ceiling. For all intents and purposes, my trip to Akeroyd Peak was finished. The dwarves would handle the rest now that my plans were fully explained. I wouldn’t accomplish much by hovering over their shoulders and letting the Valerian natives take control over their world’s technological progress felt better for my conscience. The industrial revolution’s changes weren’t all positive and I thought Valeria might benefit from a little magical deviation.
Oh who am I kidding? I’m just passing the buck.
I closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep, but when I opened my eyes again, I knew I was still asleep. Before me sat Goldfire Renala. I could tell who she was instantly. My Renala was far smaller, but the overall profile was the same, like how a daughter would share the traits of her mother.
“If you’re here to take Renala away, I’m going to tell you to fuck off.” I immediately declared my position. Renala was my daughter, adopted, but I wasn’t going to give her up just because her biological mother wanted me to.
“You misunderstand, human. But I am glad my youngest has such a caring father.”
I relaxed and uncrossed my arms. I was so defensive about this unexpected encounter I folded them unconsciously. “You’re dead.”
“Yes, quite astute. What you see is a final imprint of my will, left within my roost. I sensed your connection to my daughter and dove through your memories and took over your dreams.”
“So you already know that I really hate it when people do that.”
“You should learn to hold your tongue, human.”
“And you should learn not to invade another person’s privacy.”
“A world without gods has made you mortals audacious and bold. It is both admirable and annoying. Tread carefully, human. Should my brother contact you, favored or not, he repays provocation with death.”
“Noted. So, what did you want from me?”
“You shall enter my tomb alongside my youngest. Within its depths, you will find a powerful artifact that will aid you in your impossible Quest. It is an artifact of the ancient world that can only be used by a dragon of my lineage.”
“Can I just go in? I thought it was sealed for all eternity or something.”
“Nay, my daughter must be present, for the gates shall only open when the purity of my brood stands before it. Before you ask, the dragonkin are unable to enter freely. And you may take whatever else you can carry, I care not.”
“Then I just have one more thing to ask.”
“Speak quickly, for this imprint fades.”
“Say something, anything to your daughter.”
Goldfire Renala tilted her head. “Is that all you desire? I could reveal to you the deepest secrets of this world or a method to kill a god. Yet this is all you would ask of me in these final moments?”
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“Renala is my baby girl. Maybe not by blood. Maybe not even by race. But she’s mine. And I want her to speak to her biological mother at least once.”
Goldfire Renala's eyes crinkled in what I assumed was amusement. “Very well. Out of a mother’s love for her daughter and my respect for yours, I grant you one final boon, Joseph Barnett. Heed my words and heed them well:
Beware the Breath of the Cosmos, for within it sleeps power, terrible and incomprehensible.”
And with that, I fell into a dark, dreamless slumber. My eyes fluttered open and the first thing that greeted me was Renala’s weight on my legs. She was eying me, as if waiting for me to awaken. I saw her lips curl upward and she raised her neck to free me and nuzzled into my chest to try and push me out of bed. She was eager about something, and I could imagine it was because of her mother.
“All right, all right!” I rolled out of bed and dressed with a yawn. I had no way of telling what time it was; the entire city was built within the mountain. After equipping my gear, I patted Renala along the snout. She was sticking very close to me, as if I would run away given the first opportunity.
“First, breakfast.” I muttered, stifling a second yawn. Renala huffed, but did not disagree. She followed closely after me; as close as she could get until the hallways shrunk so much even I had a difficult time standing upright. I promised her I would come back soon then continued onward to the kitchen entrance. Balin took me here earlier, so it wasn’t hard to retrace my steps despite the maze-like architecture. A few dozen dwarves stared at me when I entered, completely dumbfounded. They were in the middle of preparing a heavy breakfast, so I knew it wasn’t too early in the day.
“Ranger Levin,” greeted one of the cooks who I met before. I was the only human in the building at the moment, so I wasn’t hard for the staff to remember. “How may we be of service?”
I smiled. “It’s fine, you don’t have to stand on ceremony. I was just hoping for an early breakfast for myself and Renala.”
That elicited some gasps. “Y-You wish for us to cook a meal for a dragon?” The chef asked, his eyes as wide as saucers.
“Is that a problem? I can tell her to go hunt outside again.” I didn’t want to inconvenience these people too much. Honestly, Renala would eat her way out of their entire stock and still have room for seconds.
“N-No! We would be honored!”
“If you’re sure. She prefers meaty dishes. Nothing fully cooked. She likes to roast it herself.”
The dwarves set about cooking our orders and I meandered back to Renala only to see Balin and a retinue of guards flanking her. She didn’t seem to mind their presence and was instead resting her head lazily upon the cool stone floor.
“Archbishop,” I called out. Balin’s expression softened a bit in relief at my voice.
“Ranger Levin, you were not present in your room and I heard reports that Lady Renala was sighted in this direction. Is there something amiss?”
“No need to panic, Archbishop. We were just getting some breakfast. I was going to meet with you after we finished. I plan on entering the tomb with Renala. Is that alright with you?”
“The tomb has been sealed for thousands of years. It cannot be opened.”
I shook my head. “That’s not a problem. Passage is Renala’s birthright.” My tone was solemn and I drew inspiration from some movies and books.
Balin stroked his long, silver beard and nodded. “As you wish, I will gladly take you there after your meal. When you return I should have a better idea of how to proceed with your other project.”
I nodded gratefully. This second task was something I thought up after Balin took me through a tour of the forge where Laevatain was crafted. Though I had no idea if they could replicate modern weaponry, I needed to at least try, so I gave Balin two of the three rounds of 5.56 I had left. I needed them to reverse engineer the manufacturing process. I had no idea if it would even be possible without modern technology or industrial machinery, but I didn’t have much of a choice. Honestly, just holding onto my last few rounds of 5.56 was pointless. Balin assured me he would assign the best craftsman, both mundane and magical, into solving this problem, but I kept my expectations low.
“Thanks, Archbishop. Even if it doesn’t work out, tell your people I appreciate the effort.”
“The blood of my people boils with an intensity I have not seen in all my years. If you listen, you can hear the hammers pounding away at all hours of the day and night. Our mages work alongside the smiths tirelessly to replicate your weapon’s perfect symmetry and our alchemists constantly come up with new mixtures to match those black grains within. For countless ages, we have been content with merely forging the same weapons over and over again. So I must thank you for reigniting the fire of inspiration and innovation in our souls, Ranger Levin.”
“I still can’t believe I’d be the first one bringing these ideas up though. Toth really hates technological development, huh?” I gauged Balin’s reaction to my borderline heretical statement.
Balin stroked his beard and eyed me warily. “Perhaps you may be permitted such harsh utterances against the Primaries, Ranger Levin, but I dare not emulate your habits! The God of Knowledge must have its reasons for limiting our technological progress, I am certain. It is beyond me to question its foresight.”
“But aren’t you afraid Toth might punish you later?”
Balin shook his head. “The Primaries would have smote you out of existence if you were truly a threat to their hegemony. They know and see all. The gods knew you would spread this otherworldly knowledge. It has precedent.”
I shot him a curious look.
Balin grinned. “Oh, surely you must have suspected something? Most, if not all Heroes, are from another world. Such information is carefully guarded by those who know and most Heroes do not outright confirm their origins, but as an Archbishop, I am well aware of a Hero’s true nature. Their transmigration allows for the Cosmos to better bless their bodies and souls with greater power when they pass through into this world. It’s why you have a Subclass.”
My eyes narrowed. There was something wrong here. Goldfire Renala’s warning echoed in my mind. “But why does transmigration grant someone more power?”
Balin shook his head. “I do not know. It has something to do with your alien state of being. That is all I can say on the matter. I do not claim to understand all, just what Lord Bahamut judges as necessary.”
The cooks burst from the kitchen the next moment, interrupting our conversation. They dragged out a small table for me and began to fill it with different plates of food, enough to feed at least six people. For Renala, they presented a train of open carts with several skewered cuts of cattle, deer, and wolf torsos followed by their legs. The carts glistened with fresh seasoning, lightly seared. Renala trilled happily and slid out from her prone position toward them. With one gentle swipe of her tail, she pushed aside the dwarven cooks and roasted all the skewers with a controlled stream of dragonfire that lasted for less than a second. She began devouring the charred meat with gusto.
The dwarves watched in awe. I cringed. I liked my steak medium rare.