The morning air was still cold and biting, but not as much as a month ago. Spring was coming, I could tell. While thinking about it, watching the clear sky and the sun rising from the east, Sasha and I made our way to Kraus’s second workshop within my underground base. Down there, it was much warmer, not to mention after reaching the forge where it felt like it was the middle of summer. By now, the base was pretty much completed and built out in a way that if I gave the order, they could produce anything we had already created: mechs, tractors, and another airship if I willed it. Walking down, I saw the latest mech being completed, and I soon had to host another knighting ceremony as another joined their ranks. By observing its frame, being donned in armor, I noticed that it was going to be another actually knight-like variant, like my Father's, as I saw a shield and a massive hammer being prepared for it to wield.
“Do you think Kraus’s team managed to stick to the design?” I asked, my voice muffled by my scarf, which I was taking off before it suffocated me in the sudden heat.
“They’d better have,” She replied with a roll of her eyes, knowing I was asking the stupidest questions. “If they’ve deviated, then it was because of a sound reason.” She added, suddenly thinking about any reason to implement any changes to my plans. “He is still our Forgemaster. If the modifications were done for no reason, then I think someone else should get the title.”
“True. But my plans can still have some errors.”
“I also looked it over.” She glanced at me with one brow raised questioningly, “The only thing I can come up with to reason why to change any part of it is that the engine we created is out of the dimensions you noted down and can’t be fitted into the body.”
“Hm… True. Maybe I’m just overthinking it. Oh well, we will know soon!”
When we arrived, the larger eastern block of the available space was separated for Kraus from the other sections who were working on completing the mech. His group was still working hard, making the very last adjustments to the very first biplane of Avalon. Even from a dozen meters away, the clanging of tools and the buzz of conversation could be heard as Kraus listed the measurements and his people reported back that all was to parameters. As we stepped in, our prototype dominated the space, standing in the middle, surrounded by a dozen men like some kind of primadonna. Well, it was a beauty, that is for sure. If it stays together by the end of the first test flight, I will need to decorate it, too… We can’t leave it bare. Maybe I should paint it red? Hm… Well, it only has two wings instead of three, but they don’t need to know that fact. Maybe they would be confused about why a pilot should be a baron when sitting in the cockpit… haaah… whatever. I will keep my thoughts to myself for now.
“Sovereign!” Kraus, with a soot-streaked face, looked up as we entered, almost dropping everything in his hand. “You! Get over here!” he called out to one of his men, waving a wrench, giving his current task over to come and welcome me.
“It’s okay. Continue.” I waved, walking over to see what he was doing.
Within my mind, I already recalled my blueprint as I approached, inspecting the prototype with a critical eye, curious if they deviated or if I was just making things up. It was the latter. They did exactly as I’d envisioned on paper. The plane was precisely to our predetermined dimensions, with not even a millimeter difference between its 2D variant and its now 3D form. The dual wings extended outward with perfect symmetry, and the fuselage looked robust yet light enough to carry the engine’s weight, securing it into place.
“Beautiful,” Sasha murmured, walking alongside me. Her hand trailed over the smooth, freshly sanded wood of the plane's body. “Good work!”
“Beautiful if it flies,” I corrected her with a low chuckle. “Otherwise, it’s just a fancy sled.”
“It will fly!” Kraus exclaimed. “It’ll fly, alright. We’ve triple-checked every joint, every bolt. I made sure that when we inserted the engine in its place, we made no mistakes, or I would cut off my own hands!”
“No need to be that extreme.” Sasha shrugged, listening to his zeal-filled words.
Well, Kraus wasn’t lying because I was given a report detailing their work the day it happened. The process required precision, with Kraus directing every step while his team did the heavy lifting. It was not that heavy with our tools, but putting it into place was still nerve-wracking, doing it the first time. His report went into great detail about how he hovered over the installation, not daring to blink so none of his workers damaged the engine or the frame, slotting it into its new home. Once the engine was mounted and secured, the sight of the completed biplane—with our engine nestled snugly in its heart—sent a rush of pride through him. I could feel it in his writing, making me smile.
“This is it,” I said, my voice steady despite the pounding of my heart as I tapped the side of the plane. “No fourth, sixth, or tenth checking will reveal us anything anymore. It is as it should be; anything more will only show itself after it has taken to the skies! Time for the test flight.”
“I still think one of us should be doing it. For safety reasons.” Kraus muttered through the faint smile because I knew he would gladly go ahead and try it out on the spot. The only issue was that at least I had some basic knowledge of how it should react and work. Even if he learned it all from building it, I was unsure if he could respond to sudden changes up in the air. If anything happened, that could be disastrous.
This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.
“We will stick to the plans,” I answered, glancing at Sasha, who simply nodded her head.
We already talked it out, and although she told me she didn’t like the idea, she was sure enough of our work that she would not oppose me test-flying our birdie. So, with a wave of my hand, we wheeled the biplane outside onto the snowy field, prepared as an impromptu runway. Knowing what would happen, there were many workers and soldiers present, wanting to see the very first flight of my latest invention. Back in my winter clothing, the wind cut at my face as I climbed into the cockpit, but I barely felt it from excitement. Looking at it all, it was a simple setup, more than I imagined when planning it—just enough controls to guide the craft through the first few maneuvers and tests. The more complicated devices would be developed as we continued, informing the pilot about their speed and altitude. For now, I only had the fuel gauge installed, notifying me how much I had left in the tank. Sasha was standing nearby, arms crossed, and her usual fiery confidence was now cooled down noticeably, with a hint of concern on her face, watching me prepare for the takeoff.
“Don’t crash,” she called out before the engine was kicked into gear and would drown out every other noise. “I worked too hard for you to ruin this in the first five seconds.”
“No pressure,” I joked back at her, fastening the straps across my chest. “If I crash, at least it’ll be a dramatic failure.”
“…” She narrowed her eyes, letting out a long sigh, but she still smiled. “Just don’t. Please.”
“Not in my plans.” I winked back at her.
After a final check of the controls, Kraus finally cranked the engine a few times...Then, it sputtered and coughed before roaring to life as everyone cleared the way for it. The propeller spun faster and faster until it became a blur before my eyes, and I felt the vibrations of the machine beneath me—suddenly, I felt myself back in the belly of a hover tank. When the stabilizers took a hit, it became just as rackety in there as it was now in the cockpit. Still, it was a good feeling. I could feel what I was doing with every move of the stick between my legs.
“Playing with your stick again?” I heard Yuri’s question in my head, making me giggle at my own joke, pushing away the nervousness. It was time to fly.
I eased the throttle forward with no hesitation. The plane began rolling across the field, its wheels crunching over the snow-dusted ground. The wind started picking up speed as it rushed past, and the moment I pulled back on the stick, feeling I had enough speed, the plane responded. Our creation lifted up, without any magic yet still light as a feather, and I felt the world drop away beneath me.
“I knew it would work!” I said to myself, holding my position, climbing upwards, keeping the plane steady when some rouge wind blew against its body.
The ground grew smaller as I flew upwards, and I was slowly turning around to do a lap above the others. The feeling itself, along with the winter air, was sharp but exhilarating beyond explanation. Suddenly, I think I understood what the Wrights had felt when they first flew. Or glided… It had to be just as amazing. The plane handled like a dream, responding smoothly to every adjustment I made. When I tilted the wings slightly, banking to the left, then straightened out, it did so without fighting my input. The fields and forests below stretched in every direction, and I was high enough that when I looked down, it was hard to make out Sasha and the others.
Nevertheless, after straining my eyes, I managed to spot Sasha. By now, more than a hundred people were standing in the snow, their faces turned skyward, watching me. Even from this height, I could feel her pride and relief radiating like warmth. Even if the most dangerous part was still ahead of me, the landing.
“Should be enough…” I muttered, finishing my fifth lap, “Time to get back down.”
The whole testing involved only a little bit of smooth flying, no more than ten minutes before ending it. I brought the biplane around, beginning to lower my altitude slowly, circling around the field. My descent was cautious as I was expecting the wind to screw me over, and if not for paying attention, it may have succeeded in it. Still, with a firm grip, it was nothing I couldn’t handle, and I let out a relaxed sigh after the wheels touched down with a soft thud. I pulled on the brakes when all was down, and I gradually slowed my speed, stopping right where I had started.
After I brought the plane to a halt and climbed out, Sasha was the first to reach me. She threw her arms around my neck, almost knocking me over as she hugged me, showing just how worried she was.
“You did it!” she exclaimed, her voice muffled against my scarf, pulling it down and finding her way to kiss me.
“We did it,” I corrected, holding her tight and returning the kiss while the others gathered around, clapping and congratulating us and each other. Kraus, forgetting himself, slapped my back so hard I nearly stumbled over my own feet.
“Ah…” he froze, his grinning face going pale at what he just did.
“Nice job!” I laughed, punching his side with a grin, congratulating everybody who worked on it.
When the initial excitement died down, they began taking it back to the mountain to check for every part for anything that may have deformed while being put under stress. As they did so, Sasha walked up to me, holding my hand.
“Phew! I was constantly murmuring an anti-gravity spell if you would suddenly start falling out of the sky!“
“If that had happened, Merlin would have been super angry. We did this without waiting for him to return.”
“He will still be angry.” She giggled, “He thought he would see it fly.”
“He will see it fly,” I corrected her. “Just not the first time. It's best if he concentrates on his current job.”
“Was it a good idea to send him to Atuvia?” She asked, her voice going a bit more serious.
“It is a diplomatic mission, a perfect job for my Prime Minister. Also… we need a mage there, one who has the experience to locate and find us our spy’s secret weapon. If anybody, he can do it without being obvious about it. Not to mention,” I continued, hugging her waist, watching as multiple trees around us were slowly dripping, noticing how the snow on their branches was visibly melting in the sunlight. “His presence may scare the mage into a hasty action.”