“We've got to go. Now.”

“I'm right in the middle of this.”

“You've been right in the middle of something different every day for the past month. Come on.”

“I don’t need to be there, it’s not like the King ordered me to go.”

“He did, the summons are right here.”

“You said Gryger sent that.”

“He's been the High King for sixteen years now.”

“Sixteen years and he's already ordering me around? I served his grandfather for a half century before he was born.”

“You asked to be invited. The Mages and the Soulsteel that came up with the designs are going to be there.”

“I thought that was tomorrow.”

“You stayed up all night. We're going to be late.”

“Keith can just tell me about it when he gets home.”

“Is that the real reason you don't want to go? Afraid he'll rub his success in your face now that his plan to find employment in the human lands has borne fruit?”

“You think I'd be angry that my son proved me wrong? I'm mad because he’s coming home without a girl.”

“He's not even sixty yet, we didn't get married until you were eighty nine.”

“Ember’s Reign, I was taking my time to find the perfect woman, he's not even trying!”

“How many times did you tell him he needed an achievement under his belt before trying to settle down?”

“Just because he hasn't achieved it yet doesn't mean he’s not well on his way, and that logic was good enough for you.”

“There, you're not in the middle of anything but another pointless argument now. Let's go.”

The elderly dwarven couple started down the spiraling main. Austine Kalvas was the Forge Master of The Cloven Kingdom, in charge of the entirety of the Deepforge. He had, for the last three months, handed off day to day responsibilities so he could focus on the ‘big picture’ plans his son had sent. His wife, Grella Kalvas was the one handling the day to day affairs he'd thrown to the wind so he could spend more time with his new obsession, Beeswax Casting. It had been an almost dead art, as modern casting could rely on small magical forms. When the plans had hit his desk calling for casting the three massive bulkheads the surface area of the pieces was far too large, and he had determined they couldn't have been cast as one piece with any other known method. Every bulkhead had main mounting points on both sides, so the depth of the casting would be an issue as well.

Magic had still aided in getting them past the initial hurdles, as trying to both synchronize the pour rate and ensure no air bubbles were trapped inside would otherwise have taken a lot of trial and error. The scale models had been melted back down, and the first of the full size wax forms was approximately half done, being already half buried, the remaining surface being cut down into approximate dimensions.

Without additional magical assistance, Grella had estimated that only half of the castings would be usable, but Austine knew his smiths could get it up to two in three, and perhaps even higher once they had run through the process a couple times. If they could use Unyielding Earth and Greater Resonance they both agreed it was likely pushing three in every four, but their mages already were at the limit of their mana capacities. The breeze suddenly died down, so they hurried their steps as the delegation must have arrived early.

~~~

The lower levels of the city were dimly lit, with only the main road possessing sufficient manalamps for the caravan to comfortably see. They cast their glow down, leaving the exact height of the thoroughfare’s roof a matter of speculation. On the right the walls were rough stone, but on the left were townhouses, carved from the natural rock. Large pillars descended from the darkness precisely every sixty eight feet. The number was apparently the ideal compromise between form and function.

Eugene watched as many working dwarves passed by. They had been told to bring the mechanisms for powering the ship’s flight for review, but the wood and shipwrights hadn’t been mentioned in much more than passing. This had led to the prevailing theory that the dwarves wanted to delay the actual construction for at least a year, but as they passed the foundry floor, that notion was dashed. The area was simple and open, with chains strung overhead in every direction. Dwarves worked on what could only be a frame casting, the massive forms already half buried. This meant exactly the opposite, as the dwarves must have started work at least a month ago to already be this far along.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

Before Eugene even processed what that could mean, the caravan reached the first public plaza, and there he saw something even harder to parse. It had been one hundred and twelve years since the last welcome feast, and he now feared he’d need to focus on stopping the dwarves from trying to take the whole project out of their hands. The buffets ahead were filled with dreaded dwarven cuisine, but the bars were serving dwarven alcohol. The High King took Eugene by surprise, having walked up to him with no escort and having needed to push a few dwarves already too deep in their cups out of his way.

“You are Rawphor’s son? Come, we have much to discuss.”

“Yes, I suppose we do.”

“You can have a servant fetch your food, but I recommend grabbing as we go.”

“Sure.”

“So congratulations. You've done it. I had started to think that your mages had given up.”

“Given up on what, exactly?”

“After the last expedition to the forbidden lands, my father made it clear that we had determined that the sea was simply too rough. The previous envoy asked him what you would need to do to get him to change his mind.”

“He responded that there was nothing we could do, didn’t he?”

“I neglected to double check the records before you came, but I am reasonably certain that we told you the only way there would be to fly.”

“You meant that literally?”

“Of course. I think one of your delegates responded by asking us if we expected you'd domesticate wyverns.”

“No, you're right. It’s just that we assumed you were… letting us down easy?”

“Perhaps we should hold informal meetings like this more often. We meant it, in good faith.”

“I know for a fact that we’d jump at the chance to visit the Peak more often.”

“We’ve set up some foreign quarters, so from now on when you all visit your stays can be for longer.”

“That is most gracious of you.”

“It's the least I could do, as you lot figuring out flight in under fifty years won me a wager with my father, though it's a shame he didn't live long enough to see the designs himself.”

“We didn't really figure out flight ourselves though. It was the Soulsteel.”

“The report I received said that the Soulsteel contributed about fourteen percent of the final design.”

“It's higher than that if you consider the ways he applied our existing knowledge.”

“It doesn't really matter if it was your mages or this Creighton. You've brought us flight, so we're going to honor our word.”

“What scope is that supposed to imply?”

“We said we'd back another if you could fly the expedition there. So back it we shall.”

“And that's it? Just going to throw as much money and time at it as we want?”

“Oh, I'm sure you'll want it done faster, but the first frame won't be ready until the end of the month. That can’t be rushed.”

“I saw the foundry working on one of them already. You did get the full proposal, right?”

“Yes. Keith sent them, along with the timeline. I would have expected it might be a bit fast for your shipwrights, but if they can handle it, we'll have all the metalwork done with time to spare.”

“We didn’t send you our timeline, I was going to negotiate it with you when I got here.”

“Keith sent his. It was rather reasonable for only three large castings, and six smaller enchanted plates.”

“If you can get even just the frames done in three months, we can start trialing on the Lake of Stars by the end of the fourth.”

“We can get into the specifics later, our food is getting cold.”

The table they sat down at was no more special than the others they had passed, other than their seat’s superior cushions. Eugene found the food tasted better than he had expected, and the mead exceeded its reputation. The conversation turned casual, specifically to how the trip up the mountain had gone.

~~~

“Allright. Are you two ready?”

“Yes Master Cole.”

“Tommen?”

“I am still not sure I’ll be of any help.”

“You’ve been working as hard as everyone else, you’ll have plenty to contribute.”

“Will I be able to keep up?”

“You need to learn how to articulate what you’ve learned. I won’t let the conversation leave you behind.”

“I haven’t done enough work on the boiler, or the engine to explain them.”

“You don’t need to explain things you aren’t as familiar with, I want you to try and explain the things you’re confident in. When me or Keith are talking make sure to pay attention as clearly communicating complex magic is one of the most important skills to being a good mage.”

“I’ll do my best, Master Cole.”

“And Natasha, You're going to be doing the same, right?”

“I will.”

“Then let’s go.”

“Is Creighton coming?”

“Oh, yeah. Creighton, come with us, we’re meeting with Keith, and his family.”

~~~

Cole had said there was to be a meeting, and Keith showed up with a pair of older dwarves as everyone else in the caravan started swarming the food. The male dwarf looked a lot like Keith, but older, and with thick glasses. The woman had a more subtle familial resemblance. They both seemed pleased to meet us, and the father seemed quite interested in me. After a brief introduction to Austine and Grella everyone but me started gathering their food. I declined to take some for myself, and we all sat down to eat. Austine finished his food first, and started asking questions of Cole, Tommen, Keith and Natasha.

The conversation seemed complicated, and while Tommen had started off answering most of them, Natasha took over when he started to falter. I could keep track of most of the questions Tommen answered, but after Natasha began answering things the complexity surpassed my fluency. I tried to focus on the conversation, but it felt like just as soon as I started getting a feel for how their language fits together, the next sentence would just shatter my false progress.

I started to drift as Cole and Keith started fielding most of the answers, and I started playing with my taste buds again. I wanted to start trying to taste food even if I didn’t need to eat when Eugene, the noble in charge of negotiations, came over with a dwarf around Keith’s age. They wanted me to come with them, so I said goodbye to the table, and rose to my feet. The two of them brought me off to the side for a conversation with one of the dwarves we’d run into on the way up, but I initially couldn’t understand what they were asking me. I had already told Eugene that I didn’t need a reward for killing the big spider, and I couldn’t think of anything else they would need to talk to me about right now.