Dellen strode towards the carriage port from Thaddeus’s workshop.
“Where are we going now?” Gilgamesh said.
“You can explore the city on your own, you know.”
“Ah,” Gilgamesh said. “You’re the only person who can see and hear me. I think it’s best if we stay close for now.”
Dellen nodded his understanding. “That must be difficult.”
“This entire realm is still strange to me. There was no day or night in the Refinery, just an endless supply of… parts.”
“You know, it was all metallic parts there.” Dellen said, “But here, people are mostly flesh and bone. I haven’t encountered many, or perhaps any, who were wholly metallic like I was. Is there a different place for those of us who haven’t forged themselves to such a great extent?”
“I shouldn’t have said anything, not that it matters, now I’m… here.” He let out a helpless sigh. “I’m here, and I don’t know what to do.”
Dellen could not help but notice that Gilgamesh had not answered his question. They continued the rest of their walk in silence, reaching the carriage port, boarding an airship, and continuing on their way.
Their stop at the Northcote estate was brief. Dellen refreshed his wardrobe and changed into simpler, sturdier clothes.
“What are you doing now?” Gilgamesh said.
“I’m going to look into getting an Ironclad Boxing Frame. I want to see if there’s anything to what Thaddeus said about fighting. Besides, if I get closer to those explosions, life might get a little… scrappy. Might be good to get some practice in.”
“I thought he told you not to spar,” Gilgamesh said.
“He did.” Dellen said, “I still intend on improving my sparring.”
“How good are you possibly going to get in a week?”
“I suppose it depends on how many times I live this week,” Dellen said.
“How many times you live this week? How about how many times you live through the day? Do you realise that you have died ten times, and only once have you lived past the first night of your time loop?”
That could not be correct. “I…” Dellen cast his thoughts back. It had been ten days since he’d slept. He’d kept dying before he needed to again. “I did not.”
“Live through the week indeed,” Gilgamesh said. “I think a proper fighter would tear you apart.”
“You might be right,” Dellen said, “But only for now.”
“Where are you going to get a frame?”
“Eventually, I’m going to build one.”
Gilgamesh was quiet for a spell. “That’s not the worst idea you’ve had since I met you.”
Dellen looked aside at him, “I don’t actually enjoy pain.”
“You don’t do much to avoid it.”
“I’m not sure about much, but I am certain of one thing,” Dellen said, “Life is rarely convenient; I don’t think I’m going to escape this without pushing myself. Whatever discomfort I experience will be minimal compared to the cost of failure.”
“Is there a Northcote workshop you can use to build it once you learn how?”
“Undoubtedly,” Dellen said. “Do you know how to build a boxing frame?”
“No.”
“Neither do I. We’re headed back to the Artificer’s Anvil. If we can’t find someone there to hire, someone there will be able to point us toward someone who can.”
“You remember that you died the last time you went there, right?”
“Somewhat, yes. This time, we’re not bringing Toby, just in case.”
They left the Northcote estate. Dellen felt a knot of tension in his stomach. Perhaps he didn’t feel as confident in his path forward as he pretended. Keeping his thoughts to himself, he found a carriage, closed his eyes, and leaned back in his seat. Keeping his eyes closed he focused on his Aether, trying to use it to sense the Aether around him, as Thaddeus had suggested. Less than a minute later, they leveled off. Opening his eyes, Dellen saw they were just above the ground.
Paying, he stepped out of the carriage and put Aether out of his mind.
Dellen cautiously stepped into the Anvil; he was again assaulted by the cacophony of clanging metal and hissing steam as artisans and inventors busied themselves. Gilgamesh floated nearby, and Dellen navigated the maze-like network of workshops, tables, and stalls.
No one came to ask if he needed help, and Dellen took the opportunity to wander and look around. He approached an elderly aetherforged working with clockwork mechanisms. His face was untouched, but like Dellen, steelskin ran up his arms and vanished into his sleeves. He was adjusting a delicate-looking cog in a small device. He bore no forging scars, but even so, Dellen did not feel the sense of kinship that would suggest the man had an affinity for Electrical Aether.
“Excuse me, sir,” Dellen said, feigning a casual curiosity. “I couldn’t help but notice your expertise in clockwork mechanisms. Have you ever considered applying your skills to create a custom exoskeleton designed for enhanced physical performance?”
The artisan looked up, a hint of surprise in his eyes. “Well, young man, I’ve dabbled in such projects, but I specialise in timekeeping devices. I don’t think I’m the person for what you’re looking for.” With a polite nod, Dellen thanked him and moved on.
Next, he approached a middle-aged woman working with steam-powered prosthetics. She was working on a prosthetic leg, attaching tubes and steam valves with great care.
“Your work is impressive,” Dellen complimented her. “I’m curious if you’ve ever created devices that could be used in rough and demanding environments, something that could handle significant stress and impact?”
The woman paused and studied Dellen’s face for a moment. “My prosthetics are designed for everyday use and can handle some stress, but I’m not sure what you’re implying. If you’re looking for something more specialised, I’m afraid I won’t be of much help.”
The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.
Several promising artisans later, Dellen came across a young man teasing apart a puzzle box. It had the look of a clever, but broken, piece of engineering. The young man touched a finger against the box, and without him doing anything else, parts of the puzzle moved. “What did you do there?”
The artisan looked up, looking slightly abashed, “Just a touch of Kinematic Aether,” he grimaced, “I can only pull together a small jot of it.”
“What does that do?”
“I don’t know, but,” he leaned in closer, “I think it used more than one kind of Aether.”
“Isn’t it a puzzle box?” Dellen asked, feeling confused.
“Yes! And it had different solutions depending on what kind of Aether the puzzle has.” He looked at Dellen’s hands, and at his scars, “Can you use your Aether?”
Dellen coaxed a spark of electricity into his palms, “Yes.”
“Here, give it a try,” the puzzle box was thrust in Dellen’s general direction.
“Thank you…?”
“Finnegan.”
“Dellen,” Dellen said with a nod, returning his attention to the puzzle box. He pushed Aether to his hands, creating a small spark, and watched it arc to the box. The surface shifted and moved, but without purpose.
“I don’t think you’re very good at that,” Gilgamesh said.
“It’s harder than it looks,” Dellen said with a smile, handing it back to Finnegan.
“Did you see how it moved differently for you than it did for me?” His voice was full of barely restrained glee.
“I did, have you come across many pieces like that?”
Finnegan gave an unconscious shrug, “You find all kinds of things in the junk piles. Most of it we just use for scraps, it’s hard to tell what’s broken and what’s working.”
“That was a long answer for someone trying to say ‘I don’t know,’” Gilgamesh observed.
“Do you also make pieces?” Dellen asked.
“I sometimes assemble old parts into new things, why?”
“I’d be interested in creating an exo-skeleton that could enhance a user’s strength, or speed, something that could be of assistance when undergoing physical exertion.”
Finnegan gave him a second look, when he spoke he sounded intrigued. “I’m more focused on smaller piecers, like this puzzle box. What’s your interest in such a device?”
“It’s just something I’ve been considering for personal reasons. Thank you for your time.” Dellen moved on, disappointed but determined. His search led him to a secluded corner of the Artificer’s Anvil, where a tall, burly man was working on a complex-looking mechanical endeavor. Dellen observed the man’s work for a moment and noticed the combination of gears, pistons and Aether-Infused components seemed to hint at the potential for enhanced physical abilities.
He decided to try one last time. “Excuse me,” Dellen said, still trying to sound casual, “Your work intrigues me. I wonder, do you have any experience with creating exoskeletons designed for increased physical performance?”
The man looked up from his work, sizing Dellen up with a cautious glance. “Maybe,” he said, his voice gruff. “What’s it to you?”
Dellen hesitated, even coming to the Anvil was a risk, but this was his best lead so far. “I’m interested in commissioning a custom exoskeleton for personal use. Something that could handle… high-stress situations, perhaps even in a combat setting.”
The man raised an eyebrow but didn’t immediately dismiss Dellen’s inquiry. “I might have worked on, or observed a few projects like that in the past.” He said at last. “Making something like that can be expensive, and it’s not without its risks. Why do you need it?”
Dellen weighed his options, before answering. “I’m trying to win a high-stakes competition, I’m going to need every advantage I can get.”
“The man studied Dellen before nodding. “Alright, if we can agree on a fair price and money upfront, I’ll help you. But like I said, it won’t be cheap, and I can’t guarantee your safety when using it.”
Dellen nodded his assent.
“Name’s Harlan, what, exactly, do you have in mind?”
“I need an Ironclad Boxing Frame,” Dellen said.
Harlan snorted. “I thought as much.” He leaned in. “I’ve been in the business a long time, and I’ve worked on them, built a few, repaired a few that were mangled in the ring.”
They both looked around to make sure that no one was listening before Harlan continued. “Do you have any specific requirements or preferences?”
Dellen thought for a moment before answering. “I need it to be lightweight and flexible, but also strong enough to withstand the rigours of… you know, the sport.”
Harlan nodded, his eyes thoughtful. “I see. We can use a combination of lightweight metals and alloys to achieve the right balance of strength and flexibility. I’m thinking of using something like tempered steel for the main structure and reinforced joints.” He squinted at Dellen. “What’s your affinity?”
“Electrical Aether.” Dellen said. “Now, how do we make this discreet? I don’t mind people in the ring knowing about the frame, but I need to be able to transport it.”
“Well,” Harlan said, rubbing his chin, “We could conceal the frame beneath your clothing, or we can box it up, and you can ship it around the city.”
Making it discreet enough to be worn under clothes would mean that it had to be less bulky, which would likely mean less strong, but shipping it around the city would require porters, logistics, and several headaches that Dellen wasn’t convinced that he could solve. “Let’s try to make it work under my clothes.”
“Alright,” said Harlan, reaching for a piece of parchment and a pencil. “Let’s sketch out a design. We’ll need to take some measurements to ensure the frame fits you. We also need to talk more about your goals. Any opponents you face will have frames tailor-made to amplify their Aetheric abilities. What can we do for you? How good are you with your Aether?”
“I have better internal control than external, but I’m working on it. What do you suggest?”
Harlan let out a hum of thought. “This gets expensive, but you might need to go through more than one frame to learn what’s best for you. The most common would probably be electrical conduits, they make it easier to channel Electrical Aether through the frame to use in attacks, however, that does require that you insulate the entire frame, aside from specific points, otherwise, you may well char yourself.”
“Anything else?”
“Capacitor storage.” He said. “Small capacitors built into the frame that can store excess Electrical Aether, letting you build up to unleash a powerful burst.”
“Yes, capacitor storage, that seems like an excellent idea.”
“There’s also a static discharge. It’s like capacitor storage, but the frame is designed to generate a static shock when in contact with an opponent. Ahh,” Harlan said, “Not a viable option if you’re concealing it beneath your clothes.”
He drummed his fingers on his drafting table. “We could try for a reflex enhancement, we could feed Electrical Aether back into you to force your muscles to move faster. It’s destructive, but in a pinch, it can be the difference between winning a losing.”
Dellen’s muscles twinged at the very idea, but he cast his memory back to being pummelled by the Iron Mauler. “Let’s explore that. Every advantage counts.”
“Alright, I can work with this. Give me three days.”
“So quickly?” Dellen said. “I am impressed.”
“It’s not complicated once you’ve done it before,” Harlan said. “However, there is the little matter of payment.”
“What will it cost me?”
“Four thousand sovereigns.”
Dellen winced. “Four thousand sovereigns.”
“Three thousand upfront.”
Dellen stared at the ceiling and let out a breath. “How soon can you start if I get it to you this afternoon.”
Harlan stuck out a large, forge-scarred hand. “Tonight. Mister?” He left the question hanging in the air.
“Lord Dellen Northcote.” Harlan’s eyes widened in surprise, and looked Dellen’s clothes up and down again. They shook, and Dellen took his leave.
“That was unexpectedly productive,” Gilgamesh said.
“Are you not worried that someone else here will have a Chronometric Affinity and be able to see you?”
“In this city? No, there is next to no Chronometic Aether in the air. The only reason I’m functioning is that my Aether requirements are much lower than your own. For a human like yourself? I think they’d be in a coma.” Gilgamesh seemed to give it some more thought. “Unless of course they had a nearby source of Chronometric Aether and a good way of transporting it, or dual attunements, but those seem like vanishingly unlikely scenarios.”
Finnegan sought them out by the door. “I think I know what you’re interested in, and I’m interested too.”
Dellen’s pulse spiked. “Oh?”
“You want to explore the chasm beneath Copperopolis.”
He didn’t want to explore the chasm, but he did want to get under the city. “Something like that. How did you know?”
“Where else would you need an exo skeleton like that?” His eyes shone with excitement. “Under the city! That’s real exploration.” He looked down at the floor. “Just think no one is sure just how deep it goes, or what’s down there. We don’t even know who built Copperopolis. There could be anything down there.”
Dellen glanced down himself. This almost sounded intriguing… “Tell me what you know of the undercity,” Dellen said.
“Not here, why don’t we get a drink?”