Yuu

I was born a prince. The king, Hamelin, was my father, and the queen, Jes, was my mother. I had no siblings.

The kingdom I was going to be raised to rule?

It was at the bottom of the ocean. Specifically, it was at the Merfolk Central Trading Point, or MCTP. Of course, this was a title and not the name of the kingdom. I couldn’t tell you the name of the kingdom.

Now, I know what you’re thinking.

Why’s the prince of a kingdom unable to name said kingdom?

It’s because I gave up being a prince.

At age one, my body was grown enough to move about. At first, I was concerned, wondering about the differences in environment that would have forced my race to grow up so quickly. But, in the end, I couldn’t really do much about it, so I just accepted it and left it as that.

Now, for these reasons, I decided to quit being a prince.

1. In that one year, I was forced to attend not one, not two, but four special events. One of them was my birthday party, but the crowds that made up each and every one of these events was sickening and I couldn’t stand it.

2. Nobody cared to even try and see me as my own person. I don’t think I was referred to by name more than a few times in that whole year. I was always “Prince” or “Young Master” (albeit the latter was only really used by my maids.)

That being said, I ran away.

I’d found the secret exit of the castle and simply went through it when nobody was looking. It was easy enough to get out, but I must admit, I’m slightly confused as to how I managed to not get discovered.

“First twelve get them tomorrow! Come right up and sign this sheet!”

But here I stand, advertising my artefacts with a loud voice and a faked smile.

“Hey, kid, can you really handle this every day? Let me help out a little bit, at least…”

Alfred, my almighty tutor, came by and questioned how I was holding up.

“Bah! You know I need all the money I can get. School tuitions aren’t just a few thousand coins, you know!”

That much was true. The fee for getting into school was a total of 35 gold coins per person.

A gold coin was 100 silver, a silver is 100 copper… etc. The general fantasy workup. I can only assume that some things were made easy because the Goddess who designed them came from my world as well.

“Oh come on! If you’re trying to get money, then you wouldn’t be selling your artefacts salt water cheap!”

(Fun fact, Merfolk usually say salt water cheap instead of dirt cheap simply because of the habitat differences.)

“Well, we both know I have a horrible sense of all things economic! It’s not going to change just from a lesson or two about my prices being too cheap!”

While saying this, I went over to the sign and raised the price from a silver to two silvers.

“Bah, you’ll never get things done at this rate! Give me half your stock and I’ll sell them at my store. I’ll give you 60% of the profits, and it’ll still be more than what you’re selling them for!”

As he spoke, a family of three came along and wrote their names on the paper.

“Ah, for safety reasons we ask of you to allow me to stamp this onto your hand. It’s just a mana seal, one that lets me know if you’re sending somebody else over to pick it up for you. You can forcefully transfer the seal to somebody, but it’s impossible for somebody to take it from you if you don’t want them too.”

As I spoke, a reached over, lightly grabbed the parent’s hand and pressed a metal sheet to the back of it, letting my mana flow through it. When I pulled it away, there was a wonderfully intricate design left behind, glowing a light gray before fading to skin color.

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

“And… done! If you die, this’ll come back and let me know. Nobody takes your things without my knowledge!” I puffed out my chest and put on a proud tone.

This little artefact took me three days to be able to write.

Let me describe how artefacts are made and work.

Artefacts are usually made by inscribing your mana into a piece of metal or other conductive substance.

The mana is channeled through something called ‘the inscribing pen’ but I like to call it ‘magic pencil.’

I mean, it looks similar enough, so it works out in my mind.

Anyway, once you have the magic pencil, you simply press it to the metal with a very fleshed out thought in your mind of what you want the artefact to do. If it’s not that detailed, the mana cost could skyrocket and it’ll probably kill you if you don’t have somebody next to you to disconnect the pencil from your hand.

Alfred had to do that a lot when I was beginning. Luckily, I was imaginative enough that I was soon able to detail it properly the first time. However, since I worked on these things alone, to conceal my rising talent in mass producing them, it would only take one mistake to kill me.

Which is why I began to think about a single artefact I wanted to build.

One that could take ideas, and let the mana inside store them.

Mana is an extension of the brain. Here, I want my mana to embody a thought before inscribing itself into the metal, to be used for making more of the same artefact.

For that, I need processes.

First, the mana shall take the thoughts that I will upon it.

Then, it shall replicate those thoughts and send them back, while holding the thought inside itself. This will act as a verification, as well as an ability to view the thought that’s placed inside at any time. After there’s confirmation from the owner of the thought, the mana should reach a dormant state, holding the thought without using any of the mana to do anything. This’ll allow for a longer time of holding since less mana is used to sustain it.

After all these things are complete, and the plate is in the ‘dormant’ state, then the mana shall require another pulse to activate, and shall follow directions from there, while allowing, but not limiting to, viewing the thought and usage of it as a directory for creating artefacts.

With these processes running through my mind, I began to do two things at once.

I began to split my mana into two parts, dividing tasks for each part. The larger portion was to embody the same processes I would use to make this artefact. The smaller would be used to make the inscription.

Feeling the beginning of a headache come on as I concentrated, closing my eyes, I refined my mana.

The smaller portion… Refining. Thin, like spider webs. Sharp, like wire. Twist. Curve. Form.

Inscribe.

The mana followed orders obediently, taking my orders and dividing them into many more, smaller, tasks. As an extension of my mind, it worked upon the thoughts of myself and refined them, before beginning to work.

“Mana is an extension of the mind, but it’s smarter than you. It’s able to think of things you wouldn’t be able to, but it’s your mind all the same.”

I muttered under my breath, remembering Alfred’s words.

The larger portion of mana… Refining. Soft, like cotton. Strong, like iron. Malleable, like rubber. Absorb. Hold. Embody.

A sharp pain shot through my head. The thought was being taken in, but the mana seemed to stir restlessly, hairline fractures appearing throughout it. It made a soft humming sound, that almost sounded displeased.

The formless blob that I had settled the mana into to hold the thought split up. It melted together, pieces falling off like dry clay.

From that blob that I’d created, the thought formed into a picture. Lines stretched out and formed geometric shapes, like a spider web of a soft metal.

I see… I didn’t think of that. Instead of forcing the thought into a shape, it would be more efficient for the thought to shape the mana…

Form.

The smaller portion of mana had finished it’s task, inscribing a sheet of metal about the size of a medium sized book’s cover. I now let the thought-filled mana slowly soak into the sheet, imbuing it with color.

“And here we go. I’ve made the first semi automatic production method for making artefacts. At the cost of my entire mana pool…” I was very, very tired now. Mana exhaustion hits you hard. It’s similar to losing a sense, like your sight or taste.

The world just seems bland afterward.

But mana exhaustion also came with the added effect of a large headache.

After waking up the next morning, I set a sign outside saying that I would be closed for the day, since I’d used up my mana pool and it was only half refilled after four hours of rest.

That was one of my few weak points. My mana regenerated at less than a quarter of the normal speed.

I didn’t really know the reason why, but I didn’t really care to find out.

I sat in a room, counting out the money that I had earned over the years.

Thirty-five gold was all I needed to go to school.

“Four hundred and seventy-five gold, thirty-two silver, and twenty copper. About enough for thirteen people… A bit more and I should start my journey. I don’t have much time left before school starts, after all. My other pieces should be working towards the same goal, right?”

I leaned back in my chair, gazing at the ceiling as I attempted to balance myself on the back two legs of the chair.

“So many lives I’m being forced to live. I wonder how many of them are as profitable as mine? I’m so sick of dealing with people… It was a good idea to hole up in here today.” I muttered to myself.

I leaned forward, letting the front legs of the chair hit the ground with a bang.

Let’s just write down some good ideas for more artefacts I can make for today…

I grabbed my magic pencil and began scrawling on the table with my half full mana. Eventually, it would fade, but that wasn’t a problem. Writing them down like this would help me out in remembering them.

For the first four years of my life, I’d gone from the prince of a kingdom to a humble magic artefact merchant, wanting to get some money for school.