Roderick ruminated on everything that Engin had told him, taking a deep toke from his herb bundle and letting the fragrant smoke swirl around him as he exhaled slowly.

The girl...Ebonheim...had left shortly after, mumbling something about Deja Vu and not wanting to experience another interrogation so soon.

The others had also left one by one to retire for the night, leaving only him, his bodyguard Simon, and Engin in the feast hall.

"I don't know if you and the others are lucky or foolish." Roderick shook his head and exhaled a cloud of smoke. "But I'll ask you again what I had asked you last year. Why would you accept the governance of a new god when you had just left your homes and journeyed here because you didn't want to be lorded over by one anymore?"

Engin took a deep toke from his own herb bundle. "She was lost and desperate to be acknowledged. Ebonheim had been rejected by every settlement she offered to represent. Though quite different from our own experiences with gods, we saw her as a kindred spirit."

Roderick sighed and looked up at the ceiling. "So you mean to try and live in harmony while licking each other's wounds?"

"You could say that."

"Hrmm." Roderick scratched his beard and looked over at Simon who was leaning back against a wooden pillar. "Simon, I trust your senses. What do you think of her?"

"She is a genuine deity," Simon answered. "Though, her presence is weak compared to others I've seen."

"Well, even a weak god is better than no god protecting your settlement." Roderick leaned towards Engin. "So, what boon has she bestowed upon the village?"

Engin sat up and walked to another room, returning shortly carrying something wrapped in cloth. He held the object out to Roderick.

Roderick unwrapped the cloth and saw a small bundle of dark wood. He furrowed his brow as he inspected the lumber. "Isn't this just a-" His eyes went wide. "Don't tell me..."

Engin nodded. "It is what you suspect."

"A piece of an Ebon tree?"

"There's nothing else quite like it."

Roderick reached inside his pocket and pulled out his enchanted monocle and put it over his eye.

Runes of light shimmered into view as the monocle began displaying the properties of the piece of lumber. His mouth hung agape as he read the information.

"This...this is remarkable. Its qualities are even greater than Runite forged at Hrafnsteinn." He looked up at Engin. "How did you manage to cut an Ebon tree down? We've tried all that we could last year, even with the tools I provided."

Engin sat back down. "Ebonheim allowed us to harvest them. They fall like any other tree to our axes."

"Yet it is more durable than Runite. May I test this?"

Engin nodded. "Go ahead."

"Outside." Roderick grabbed the piece of lumber and motioned for Engin and Simon to follow.

They walked outside and Roderick set the piece of lumber on the ground. "Simon, try cleaving through this."

Roderick watched as Simon unsheathed his claymore. It was a gift Roderick had given him years ago. The blade was forged from Runite and enchanted by high-ranked Artificers. It was sharp enough to damage even the Aurichalcum plates of an Aetherframe.

Simon raised the blade and swung, making a loud clang as the blade bounced against the Ebonwood.

Roderick heard Simon grunt in surprise.

Engin whistled from behind them.

Roderick leaned down and inspected the wood. The blade had cut into the bark and managed to carve a shallow gash that was as deep as the width of his thumb.

"This is...incredible." He looked over at Engin. "Is it still able to burn?"

Engin scratched his chin. "The peculiar thing is that it burns a hundred times longer than other types of wood. But when we crafted shields and armor with it, it could resist even magical fire."

"How is that possible?"

Engin shrugged. "Divine will? The Ebon trees have existed here long before written history and no one's been able to decipher its secrets until perhaps now. It was all thanks to Ebonheim that we finally managed to make use of the wood."

"Engin, do you realize how revolutionary this could be?" Roderick asked, still mystified at what he just witnessed. "Think of the implications...and the opportunities this could present for the village."

Roderick's mind raced with thoughts and ideas of this new material entering the market. "I would like to discuss this further."

Engin chuckled and motioned for them to head back inside. "Of course."

----------------------------------------

The next day, Ebonheim looked up at the masked form of Roderick's bodyguard. The man had stood beside her during their meeting yesterday, never saying a word, yet always watching her.

She had left early that evening because she didn't want to be bothered having to go through explaining herself again but also she was very curious about the mechanical spider.

Now she waited outside of the lone guesthouse in the village for Roderick to wake up so that she could ask him about his spider wagon. His bodyguard was standing outside looking as mysterious and stoic as the first time she's seen him.

"So, what's your name?" she asked.

The man turned towards her. "My name? I have many names. My true name is unknown to the world. I am known by many others though, and I am called..." He paused and seemed to struggle with his words. "...Simon."

Ebonheim raised her eyebrow. "Simon? You don't strike me as someone who'd answer to such a simple-sounding name."

Simon's mask remained fixed. "No, you're right. I am known by many names and my true name will remain unknown."

"Wha..." What's with this fellow? He wasn't making any sense. It was better to just find out directly. Her eyes shimmered as she used her Divine Sight.

[Name: Simon; Status: Healthy]

[Simon’s Attributes] Intelligence:20, Perception:28, Resilience:25, Strength:24, Agility:24, Endurance:23, Charisma:14, Manipulation:19, Wit:19]

[Health: 300 ( 240 Base, 40 Profession, 20 Item Bonus)]

[Mana: 225]

He took a step back. "What are you doing?"

"Peeking. Your name really is Simon."

Simon turned away and pulled down his hood. "That's...not my true name. But I'll allow you to continue using that when you refer to me."

Ebonheim raised an eyebrow then shrugged. "Okay. So...you're Roderick's bodyguard? How long have you known him?"

"Long enough." He folded his arms over his chest.

"Do you work for him full time or...?" She tilted her head in confusion.

"I'm not working for anyone." Simon stepped closer and lowered his voice. "I protect Roderick because that's what Roderick wants me to do."

The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

Ebonheim blinked in surprise. "So he doesn't pay you?"

"I get paid. But I choose to serve Roderick for free."

Ebonheim cocked her head. "Y...you get paid, but you work for free? That doesn't make any sense. What do you mean?"

"I have my own reasons."

Without missing a beat, she dropped down into a deep squat on her tippy-toes, her heels just barely hovering off the ground. She rubbed her temples and stayed in that position for a moment, taking a deep breath and collecting her thoughts, before looking up at him with narrowed eyes. "Are you okay?"

Simon stared back at her. "I said, 'That's what Roderick wants'. Not what he needs."

She squinted her eyes. "Okay..." Not really. This person's got bats in the belfry. Better change the subject. "So, why do you wear a mask anyway?"

Simon scoffed. "I've worn masks since the age of ten. Even before Roderick found me and gave me a home."

"W...Why?"

"Because I prefer to hide who I truly am. Because people find me unsettling. And if they don't like what I say, they can blame their discomfort on the mask rather than me."

"Huh... Well, whatever makes you happy. If you ever need help or anything while you're here, please come talk to me." She smiled warmly at him. "It's nice to meet you, Simon." She held out her hand for a shake.

Simon hesitated for a moment and shook her hand.

The door abruptly opened and Roderick stepped outside. He wore a loose robe and had tousled hair. His face was haggard from sleep and he yawned. "Can't even have a moment's respite with the two of you babbling outside my door." He stretched his hands out. "Come on in."

Ebonheim followed Roderick inside as Simon closed the door behind them.

Roderick glanced over at her. "You've had breakfast already?"

Ebonheim nodded. "I was waiting for you. I wanted to ask you about something."

Roderick scratched his head. "Oh? Go ahead. Ask."

She hesitated. "About the wagon you brought yesterday. The spider."

Roderick let out a hearty chuckle. "Ah yes, the spider. Yes. It's fascinating stuff. It's a prototype model and we're still developing the technology. Why do you ask?"

"Well, I wanted to know how you built it and how you made it move. Is it like a golem?"

Roderick's eyes twinkled as he smiled at her. "You've got an eye for fine craftsmanship, Ebonheim. It is indeed a type of golem. The spider that I have is a cargo golem, specifically designed for carrying heavy loads and transporting goods."

"So...how does this golem work?" she asked.

"Hrmm, that requires a bit of explanation and demonstration. Tell you what, after breakfast, we can head to my golem and I'll explain more there."

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After eating breakfast together, Ebonheim followed Roderick and Simon to the outskirts of town. A small group of children had gathered around the spider golem, which sat in front of an open field.

Ebonheim approached the golem and ran her fingers along its metal exterior. "How did you build this?" She examined the joints carefully before turning her attention to the cockpit atop its head.

Roderick leaned against the side of the golem and crossed his arms. "For starters, I wasn't the one that built this. I employed Artificers specialized in crafting golems. They started by creating the basic framework from brass and steel plates. Then they used stronger material to reinforce certain areas where it needed extra strength and durability."

Ebonheim continued to examine the golem closely but also kept glancing over at Roderick curiously.

"Afterwards," Roderick continued, "the Artificers then attached the magical parts—the engine, the power source, etcetera." He tapped the golem's leg lightly with his finger. "This part here contains a spring mechanism powered by a magical enchantment, which causes the entire golem to lift off the ground when the lever on top is depressed."

Ebonheim's eyes widened and she gasped. "That's incredible! I'd love to learn how it all works!" She grinned excitedly at Roderick before turning her gaze back towards the golem and continuing to run her hands along its surface. "What else does this golem do?" she asked.

"Well, you can load things into its belly. For example, I use this to transport supplies between places or bring building materials to our construction sites."

Ebonheim stopped examining the golem and turned toward Roderick with wide eyes. "So you mean this thing carries things?"

Roderick chuckled and climbed atop the cephalothorax to pull one of the levers. The spider golem's abdomen slowly opened from the back. "Many things. Come on, I'll show you my wares."

Roderick led her around the abdomen, which was twice as large as her hut.

Her eyes widened at the sight of the various wares on display. Hesitantly, she entered the spider's abdomen. Intricate tapestries adorned the walls, glass vials filled with luminescent elixirs lined the shelves, and gleaming artifacts of unknown purpose lay scattered about.

"Wow," she breathed, taking in the sight of the enchanted emporium.

"These tapestries," Roderick explained, gently running his fingers over the vibrant threads, "tell stories of ancient battles and mythical creatures from faraway lands. Each one is a masterpiece, painstakingly woven by skilled artisans."

Ebonheim reached out to touch the tapestries, but Roderick quickly stopped her. "Careful. These are delicate works of art, not meant for curious little hands."

She withdrew her hand, nodding solemnly before something shiny caught her attention.

"What's this?" She reached out to touch a small, ornate box resting on a nearby shelf.

Roderick gently placed a hand on her shoulder, guiding her away from the box. "Ah, that's a rather delicate item, my dear. It contains a tiny, enchanted music box. The melody it plays can soothe even the most troubled of hearts. But it's quite fragile, so we must be careful with it."

She nodded, her curiosity piqued. "What about this?" She pointed to a vial of swirling, shimmering liquid.

"That," Roderick explained, "is a potion of rejuvenation. It has the power to restore one's energy and heal minor wounds. Quite valuable, indeed."

As they continued to explore the chamber, Ebonheim peppered Roderick with questions about the various items and their origins. He regaled her with tales of his travels to distant lands, encounters with strange creatures, and the many adventures he'd had while collecting and selling his wares. She listened attentively as he spoke, hanging on every word he uttered. Her eyes brightened as he described his latest acquisition: a rare piece of armor crafted from an unknown alloy, which had been found deep in a hidden tomb beneath a forgotten ruin.

She gazed at him with sparkling eyes. "You're such an interesting man, Roderick!"

He laughed heartily and patted her on the back affectionately. "That's me."

The pair emerged from the spider's abdomen and walked over to the edge of the clearing.

Simon glanced at Roderick and Ebonheim and cocked his head. "I'm surprised you haven't sold anything to her yet, Roderick."

Roderick snorted. "What kind of person do you take me for? I'm not some charlatan who would take advantage of a goddess who knows nothing of trade and barter. Defamation, I say!" He tossed his head back and let out a booming laugh.

Ebonheim giggled and glanced over at Simon. "He's right, you know. I don't have the knowledge to judge the value of his wares. I'll leave that to Engin and the others. So, how long are you planning on staying at our village?"

"Oh, I plan to stay for a few more days," Roderick replied, "there are more things I'd like to discuss with the elders."

"Is there anything I can do for you while you're here?" she asked.

Roderick rubbed his chin. "Well, I do have something to ask you."

Ebonheim blinked. "What is it?"

Roderick leaned down until his face was close to hers. "Would you be interested in having more people flock to you within the next two years?"

----------------------------------------

In the dim recesses of the mine, a ragtag band of miners toiled relentlessly. Their hands, calloused and cracked, grasped their pickaxes with grim determination.

Flickering torchlight cast dancing shadows upon the walls, revealing the faces of the weary laborers. Sweat dripped from their furrowed brows, mingling with the dust and grime that caked their skin. Their breaths, heavy and labored, filled the oppressive air as they chipped away at the unforgiving rock.

As each day passed, the miners delved deeper into the bowels of the mountain, guided by a persistent hope for more iron and copper ore veins now that their previous mine was sealed off.

Their pickaxes, dulled by ceaseless use, struck the rock with rhythmic precision, a testament to their years of toil. The clangor of metal meeting stone echoed through the caverns.

On a day that seemed no different than any other, a miner named Halvar, his beard matted with sweat and dirt, took a moment's respite. As he rested his aching back against the cold stone wall, he noticed an odd glint in the torchlight.

Curious, he stepped closer, squinting through the dim illumination to discern the nature of this peculiar anomaly.

Halvar's calloused fingers traced the rough surface of the wall, seeking the source of the glimmer. When his hand finally alighted upon a narrow vein of gleaming metal, his heart leaped into his throat. He dared not breathe, lest the vision vanish before his eyes. With trembling hands, he retrieved his pickaxe and struck the vein with a cautious, deliberate force.

As the chisel split the rock, a cascade of golden shards tumbled to the floor, each one winking with a radiant light. Halvar's breath caught in his chest, for there, exposed by the force of his blow, gleamed a narrow streak of gold snaking its way through the dark stone like a celestial ribbon—a vein so rich it seemed as though the sun had bled into the heart of the mountain.

"Halvar, what have you found?" called Tessa, a young and spirited miner, her voice tinged with curiosity. She drew closer, her eyes widening in disbelief as they fell upon the glittering vein. Her breath hitched, and she whispered, "Gold...we've found gold!"

The other miners, drawn by the unmistakable tone of wonder in Tessa's voice, approached the scene. As one, they gazed upon the shimmering vein, their eyes reflecting the fire of newfound fortune. A hush fell upon them, as if they were standing in the presence of some ancient, revered deity.

The silence was shattered by a jubilant whoop from Olaf, the elder miner whose once-mighty frame had been whittled by time. "By Ebonheim! Gold! We've struck gold!" His voice, ragged with age, filled the cavern with a triumphant, infectious glee.

The miners erupted into laughter and cheers, their exhaustion momentarily forgotten as they basked in the golden glow of their discovery. Embraces and hearty backslaps were exchanged and the tunnel was transformed into a hive of frenetic activity as the miners chipped away at the rock, the gold vein beckoning them deeper into the earth like a siren's song. As the precious metal was painstakingly extracted, the miners worked in a feverish state, whispers of fortune and glory igniting their imaginations.