The embrace lasted for ten or so seconds, at which point the two returned to their seats and Alistar seized the opportunity to ask about the drawings on Caedmon’s desks.
“They caught your eye, did they?” He reached over and grabbed one of the sheets of parchment from the closest tabletop, turning it over to show Alistar what it depicted. “This is a drawing of different parts for a special device that I’m hoping to assemble in the coming years.”
“What does it do?” As far as Alistar was concerned, the diagram on the parchment was just a meaningless sprawl of lines drawn with charcoal. “Is it supposed to look like a table?” More accurately, it looked as if a table and a dresser had been worked into a single structure.
“It is, actually. There’s a lot to it, but suffice it to say that this device will make it much easier to recreate already existing books. Normally one would have to hire a scribe to write out another copy of an existing work, a process that takes quite a lot of effort. With this device, the same task will take a fraction of the time.”
Alistar immediately recognized the idea’s value, solely from the fact that books were very expensive. Outside of the church, the collegia and the noble classes, hardly anybody had books in their homes, which was just as well since in most cases only members of the clergy or those of noble birth could read them.
“Do you plan on selling books?”
“Yes, but not at first.” Suddenly excited, Caedmon’s tone was full of passion. “There are two that I plan on printing—the device works by imprinting words on blank sheets of parchment with indented slates of metal—and one of them is the Holy Testament of Lucian. I plan to freely distribute it to the townsfolk, along with a workbook that contains simple lessons on learning one’s letters.”
“Will this device really be able to make that many books?”
“It should be possible. If it all works out the way that I want it to, then this device will prove to be a great benefit to people all throughout the kingdom and it will also be quite useful for the church. The more versed one is with the faith’s written works, the better they can walk the path that Lucian has picked for them.”
The only thing that Alistar disagreed with his uncle about was religion, since he wasn’t particularly faithful to the church. While it was true that he had already undertaken his First Communion with Lord Lucian, he hadn’t felt any different afterwards despite the fact that the ceremony was supposedly meant to bring him and Lucian closer together. He had also witnessed the prayers of countless people go unheard or ignored in Crystellum, despite the terrible atrocities that a lot of decent folks had been forced to suffer through. After the life he’d lived, he was quite skeptical about the idea behind blindly worshipping an unseen entity, especially after everything that Mr. Herst had taught him about the Inverted Wars and the church’s role in the conflict.
“That’s very impressive, Uncle. Can you take me to see it once it’s finished?”
“Of course! Who would appreciate such a creation more than my studious nephew, who’s constantly reading all of my books?”
Now that he knew what had been taking up so much of Caedmon’s time in recent weeks, he felt a strong sense of pride that his uncle wasn’t like the other lords that he kept hearing about—ones like his relatives, or the sinister man that owned Crystellum. Not only were the Drunaeda welcome in his territory, but slaves were paid and had the ability to purchase their freedom. On top of that, Caedmon was working tirelessly on an invention that had the likelihood of improving the lives of people all throughout the empire.
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With such thoughts in his mind, Alistar couldn’t help but think of his father and how he had always tried his best to improve the situations of those around him no matter how terrible his own circumstances had been.
“Ah, before you go.” Caedmon walked around his favourite desk and pulled open a drawer, withdrawing a ratty, leather-bound book from within. “You seem to enjoy books about flora and fauna—plants and animals—so I thought to lend you a work that a relative of ours wrote some centuries ago.”
Accepting the book in his hands, Alistar looked it over with curious eyes, noting that the parchment was still in agreeable shape. “Is this a copy of the original?”
“Indeed it is. It was copied by a scribe during my uncle’s time as Distan’s lord. He’d possessed a unique fondness for all sorts of wildlife and had a habit of collecting books like this. My aunt once told me that in his younger days he travelled all across the continent to add to the original work, and the content surely shows it.”
Alistar had studied one of his great uncle’s works before and had found it quite difficult to read. The man had a tendency to use complicated words and convoluted metaphors, which oftentimes left his head spinning from confusion. He’d eventually had the idea to read it with a dictionary at his side, which not only helped him to understand the content but also aided him in learning new words and expanding upon his lexicon.
Reading his expression, Caedmon let out a laugh and nodded toward the door. “My uncle’s books are a bit complicated, but I wouldn’t suggest them to you if I didn’t think you would understand them. You’ve got a very impressive memory, so I know that you’ll appreciate all of the knowledge that he recorded in there.” Making his way to the door, he opened it and then motioned for Alistar to leave. “Now if you’ll excuse me, there’s plenty of work to be done and only one of me to do it. Dare I say that Alder is a bit preoccupied at the moment.”
Now that his uncle mentioned it, Alder’s aura was currently in Madeline’s chambers, along with the young woman’s. Alistar could only guess after the reason for their privacy. Perhaps they were talking about something important, the same as he and his uncle had been doing?
Biting his lip as if he had made some sort of mistake, Caedmon hurriedly ushered him out of the study, making sure to wish him a happy birthday before seeing him off down the hall.
Alistar retreated to the library, his favourite room in all of the manor house, intent on reading a few chapters from his great uncle’s book. Once there, however, he recalled Caedmon’s earlier insistence that he practice making his limiters light up in an effort to grow more familiar with his inner energies, so he spent the next hour or so doing just that. Surprisingly, even with the addition of the ring that Alder had gifted him, both pieces of jewelry were quick to heat and the crack on his bracelet also widened by a subtle margin.
“Why is it like this?” he mumbled to himself, still worried about breaking the gifts that had been given to him. He’d come into his magics when he was seven years old but had never been so aware of his inner energies as he had as of late.
Could it be that my energies are going stronger?
The thought brought on a rush of excitement, which was quickly stifled by a grave sense of determination. Placing the book down on the neatly organized desk that he usually spent many hours of his day at, he decided to study at another time and then retreated to his room in order to retrieve his wooden practice sword.
A short while later and he was standing within the central courtyard where he and Emely had found the baby rabbit earlier in the day. Clearing his mind and paying attention to his breathing patterns, he stood within an open stretch of grass that was illuminated by a singular beam of moonlight that penetrated through the misty veil of a wayward cloud. He had promised his uncle that he wouldn’t practice magic until he was assigned a capable teacher, and as somebody that placed heavy value on his word he had no intention of breaking this vow. That being said, Kaila and Talon were running out of time and it was his responsibility to do everything within his power in order to become stronger so as to raise his chances of rescuing them from their damnable fate.
In the final hours of his first Name Day, Alistar Lairo Silverkin committed to a strenuous stretch of training, with the goal of getting a hit off on Tramon the next time that he and the old sword master entertained a spar.
He was tired of being weak, of having to rely on everyone around him for his every need and want. Now more than ever, he was determined to change his life and the lives of those that he loved. With that in mind, he closed his eyes and imagined the red-haired guard that had spit on his father’s body in the moments that followed his death. Tightening his grip on the wooden handle, he took his first swing.