While Ebonheim hadn't witnessed it firsthand, Kelzryn had somehow managed to garner the support of her people—securing their acceptance of him as her exarch. He had gone from an unknown outsider to a welcomed and respected member of the community.
Even Evelyne had ceased her objections to the arrangement—muttering only a brief and resigned acceptance of his presence. So...either Kelzryn had done something extraordinary or else had won over her through mutual respect and understanding.
Regardless of the reason, Ebonheim couldn't help admiring his accomplishment.
Over the following weeks, a comfortable routine fell between Ebonheim and Kelzryn. Their mornings were spent in pleasant conversations where they shared anecdotes and stories over breakfast. Then, their days would alternate between mundane activities and attending to the needs of Ebonheim's residents. After sunset, they would typically share a dinner and retreat to the privacy of their respective quarters—until the next day arrived.
A new cabin had been built for her atop the ashes of her previous dwelling. It resembled a replica of her old house, possessing similar layouts and architectural designs—even sporting identical decor and furniture—which suited her fine. A cabin was a cabin after all. She didn't need to be picky about things.
Kelzryn took it upon himself to enchant the walls and roof of Ebonheim's house, preventing any possible damages from future accidents or intruders. He also cast a variety of protective spells to prevent outside noises and prying eyes from interfering with her rest.
When she had asked why he bothered to take such measures, he responded simply, "To keep you safe and at ease. As your exarch, it is my responsibility to ensure your comfort and security. Nothing less."
The additional precautions felt excessive for her tastes, but he had gone out of his way to protect her home. Even if she didn't always appreciate the attention, his actions didn't warrant rebuke. And so, she allowed him to proceed without questioning his intentions further. Besides, his wards certainly did help reduce disruptions when sleeping, so the benefits outweighed any drawbacks.
Serrandyl would no longer be able to kick her front door open unannounced anymore. Victory!
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Today, Ebonheim paid Evelyne a visit at the La Salle de Mécanique—Les Artisanats d'Éclair's guild hall and main workshop. There had been a whirlwind of activity since Ebonheim manifested the ancient Aetherframe they found in that bygone city during the expedition. Every member of Evelyne's guild had worked overtime examining its parts, assembling and dismantling its pieces—exploring each minute detail—jotting their notes and findings in endless documents.
Evelyne and Viviane were at the forefront of this research effort—dedicating most hours in a day to studying and discovering the secrets of this lost technology—discounting the requirement of necessities for daily existence. Any person unfamiliar with the pair might assume the duo possessed manic fervor towards their objective—as the extent of their devotion often resulted in prolonged sleepless nights and unrelenting labors.
Often, the pair would delegate tasks and experiments amongst their peers and colleagues. Frequently, the others would comment and mutter aloud theories, concepts, and speculations to spur the joint development. A great amount of ingenuity flowed free without restraint.
Even Orin, who usually confined his workspaces and facilities, joined the festivities—teaming up with his rival in craft—eager to test various combinations and theories to better understand the constructs inner-workings and components.
Walls were filled with sketch diagrams and notes scribbled in messy cursive or printed clearly. Tools and parts laid scattered amongst various workstations. The white noise of whirling machinery blended with the discordant clatter of metal tapping upon metal or ceramic breaking upon tile. The whole enclosure hummed with an ambient melody of artisanry—reverberating off the stones and bouncing between the walls and floor and ceiling.
Ebonheim had arrived with Kelzryn, each holding baskets of food and drink in hand—planning to convince the pair to break from their intense investigations.
"Take a break, everyone!" Ebonheim announced as she entered the chamber. Her voice sounded meek against the raucous din permeating throughout the room. No one glanced up—unhearing to her words.
Ebonheim exhaled sharply. "EVERYONE! TAKE A BREAK AND EAT SOMETHING ALREADY!"
Her shout finally penetrated through the racket.
An ear-piercing shrieking grated across the crowd as mechanisms and equipment ground to a halt. Shafts stopped rotating—cranks halted their turning—gears and flywheels sputtered to silence. Every set of eyes fell upon her form, blinking owlishly and dripping sweat. She smiled sheepishly in return.
"Food?" she offered timidly, thrusting a basket forward.
The group wordlessly accepted the rations—each taking turns munching a variety of snacks and drinking cold beverages. A temporary reprieve descended upon the chamber as people scattered to partake their meals in whatever style and pace suited them. A few preferred to mingle and converse freely during their break. Others chose solitude, retiring to quiet corners and desks to partake privately.
Viviane practically inhaled the entirety of her meal within seconds, wasting little time in polishing her plate clean before throwing herself back to the fray. The only one remaining from the original group was Evelyne—who stood amidst an open tabletop with scraps of papers strewn everywhere. She continued jotting a few notations upon a specific page and added them to a haphazard stack upon her left.
Ebonheim wandered closer, skirting the piles of disassembled mechanisms and unfurled schematics. Upon reaching her friend's side, she set her basket down and studied the display before her. Several loose sheets contained detailed drawings—demonstrating multiple diagrams and sections of a cross-sectioned model—while others detailed complicated mathematical equations or magical formulas.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
Evelyne's fingers absentmindedly combed her unruly locks behind her ear as she shuffled another assortment together and bound them tightly with string.
Ebonheim stood behind her and placed her hands upon her shoulders. "Why not take a breather and relax a bit?" She massaged gently, soothing the tense muscles beneath.
A faint squeal—followed by a soft moan—escaped Evelyne's lips as she arched into Ebonheim's ministrations. The unexpected noise surprised her for a second—almost making her jerk away—before she regained her composure and continued unperturbed.
"Ma déesse," Evelyne breathed, the last traces of tension draining away from her body. She melted underneath Ebonheim's hands. "Oh—forgive me. Where are my manners?"
A quick chuckle escaped Ebonheim.
"Didn't you hear me earlier? I said you need to take breaks." Her fingers pressed deeply into the stiff knots buried beneath her fingers. Evelyne stifled a groan—her body stiffened under the pressure.
"And as I recall, I think I have mentioned several times...this is too important." Evelyne's breath came in short bursts, her eyelids drooped low. "S-something big is at stake here. Something monumental..."
Ebonheim frowned. "Can't be worth risking your health over. Please don't overwork yourself too hard."
She gently spun Evelyne about—exposing the tell-tale signs of fatigue marring Evelyne's beautiful features—a defeated expression briefly passing over her expression before transforming into a weak smile.
"Yes...yes...you're right." Her posture slumped forward slightly—one arm wrapping loosely around her waist and the opposite elbow supporting her weight upon a nearby table top. "My apologies. I did not realize how drained I have become."
Evelyne drew in a deep breath, bracing herself, and raised her chin proudly—putting on an air of dignity despite her obvious exhaustion. "Merci, ma déesse. Your concern warms my heart."
Kelzryn approached the pair shortly after they started conversing, carrying a plate containing a variety of foodstuffs—a pair of forks balanced along its edges.
"One's mind requires adequate fuel to function optimally," he commented casually. "Sustenance is paramount."
Upon seeing Kelzryn, Evelyne wrapped her arms around Ebonheim, holding her in a tight embrace while giving him a sour glare. She muttered loudly, "Oh yes, how thoughtful you are, Monsieur Dragon."
Ebonheim's eyes darted between the two, her brows knitted together as she studied their expressions and tones closely. Kelzryn tilted his head to the side inquisitively while placing the dish next to the already occupied desk. "It is my duty."
She seemed unconvinced. "Hmph."
The obvious irritation emanating from Evelyne perplexed Ebonheim—and also slightly amused her.
From what she had been told by others, Evelyne and Kelzryn had gotten along quite well in the beginning. But after Kelzryn had declared himself as Ebonheim's exarch, Evelyne's disposition toward him had become decidedly less cordial and civil. Although their relationship lacked hostility, the two acted like rivals constantly competing for Ebonheim's attention.
There had been a steady amount of skinship between her and Evelyne prior, but after Kelzryn's declaration, such occurrences increased substantially. It seemed like every time they crossed paths, Evelyne would do something affectionate towards Ebonheim.
Usually, the actions started innocently enough, but then escalated to unexpected levels. Such as grabbing her by the arm or linking elbows and holding hands. Occasionally, Evelyne would even press close against her or kiss her cheeks or forehead.
The attention was certainly nice and made her blush...but...she couldn't help feeling a bit overwhelmed at times. Kelzryn's presence exacerbated the problem—seemingly driving the interactions.
Even now, wrapped in the circle of Evelyne's arms and held tight against her chest, she could sense an almost possessive edge behind the embrace.
Kelzryn didn't seem phased or perturbed in the slightest. He simply gazed at Ebonheim with his typical unruffled appearance.
But then she began to know his pattern as well. Later on, she would find him huddled beside her—sitting extra close so that their thighs touched. Sometimes she caught him staring intently into her eyes during moments where his focus wandered beyond their conversation topic—as if trying to communicate something hidden.
Why must this keep happening? Can't either of them be more civil?
Ebonheim reluctantly extracted herself from Evelyne's arms and straightened her dress. "Okay, okay...let's slow things down here."
She combed her hair behind her ears and pointedly directed a meaningful stare at each individual. "This has gotta stop. You're making me uncomfortable." She stepped away from both—raising a hand in warning—and pointed sternly. "Don't either of you dare answer."
At the same time, the pair glanced towards one another and locked stares. Their expressions immediately clouded over.
A vein bulged noticeably from Evelyne's forehead and a vein popped prominently from Kelzryn's.
"Enough with the glaring! Geez. Evelyne, eat and take a nap. Kelzryn, check on the others and see if they need anything."
The duo seemed about ready to protest.
"Right now!" She ordered firmly, stomping her foot. "I mean it. Behave or else I'll send you both away."
Grumbling and muttering, the pair complied sullenly and shuffled away. Evelyne—halfheartedly—chomped away at the food before resting her head against the surface and napping. Meanwhile, Kelzryn set off on his task of ensuring the others weren't overdoing themselves.
Ebonheim glanced between her friend and exarch while letting out a deep sigh.
Great. This might turn out more troublesome than I thought.
Later on, the arrival of two unexpected visitors caused Ebonheim to do a double-take. Bjorn and Thorsten walked through the entryway, looking around the guildhall in a mixture of confusion and awe.
They were the last two people she thought would appear here. Thorsten's disdain for Magitech was well-known, while Bjorn tended to dislike being around noisy and cramped places. This workshop probably crossed both lines for both men. Yet, they continued inside—approaching her at the foot of the gargantuan Aetherframe.
Thorsten acknowledged her presence first, though his expression remained unchanged. He spared a brief glance toward the half-dissected Aetherframe and grunted in greeting. Bjorn waved and flashed a lopsided grin—but stayed silent as the pair drew to a halt.
"So, uh...what brings you two here?" Ebonheim inquired cautiously.
"Came to see what all the recent fuss was about," Bjorn supplied with a shrug. "Thorsten told me about your discovery. Apparently, you can turn that big thing into your personal armor—and you can fly using it?"
Somehow, despite the din, the voices nearby stopped simultaneously and all heads turned in their direction.
Viviane snickered from her corner while Evelyne awoke with bleary-eyed confusion—head tilting and swiveling toward the trio. She mumbled drowsily. "Huhwhaat?"