Point Of View: Seven
Mr. Roosevelt explained to me that we needed to gather a large amount of money so we could search for Stella and travel to the elven forest. So we spent some time working on what he called parchment paper. Our initial production would be approximately twenty-five sheets per week, which would sell for fifty lyndors. An estimate of two hundred per month, that is, if we didn't increase production.
Strangely, I remembered every word he had told me, which I found frightening. This started happening after I was forced to participate in that ritual at the castle. To this day, I don't quite understand what happened—my memories of the event were all hazy. I remembered poorly built houses, being in the castle, a man dressed in white stabbing and cutting me, and Uncle Lorian rescuing me.
"So you take these little pieces of wood that you cut and put them in this wooden mortar. It holds quite a bit, but I recommend adding them little by little because you'll be grinding them with this pestle… or rather, this big piece of wood." Roosevelt was pointing at the objects while taking some wood and placing it in what looked like a wooden bowl. I listened attentively as he explained. Not that I would forget anyway, since I remembered every word spoken the day before.
"Magnus, we need paper production because gunpowder’s saltpeter is a very scarce resource. I'm surprised you haven’t connected the dots." I couldn’t help but wonder again—who was Magnus? Who was he talking to? This was frightening.
"After grinding, you'll put the fibers in that metal pot outside, along with that white powder, and boil it while stirring. Then, you wash it in running water and grind it again until it turns into pulp. You can add some water to make it easier." Roosevelt took a deep breath. He was explaining too fast.
"Boss Roosevelt, how long should it boil?" He looked at me, placed his hand on his chin, and closed his eyes.
"An entire morning. Resuming the process, you filter all this pulp using that sieve right there, inside that wooden box. When you're done boiling and grinding, call me so I can help with the next steps."
I imagined Mr. Roosevelt was worried I wouldn’t remember everything, but it was a lot of information. I started working and noticed Roosevelt went back to talking to himself while moving, picking up the powder we collected from the plates I left in the sun and the black powder I assumed was charcoal.
"Magnus, are you sure it's impossible to produce a revolver in this world? I mean, I understand the complexity of something like that, but a musket is a lot of work to reload." He was speaking casually. What was a revolver, and what was a musket? I opened my mouth to ask, but Roosevelt walked out the door.
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
Point Of View: Christopher Roosevelt
'It's impossible, Roosevelt. Even if you use our mental connection to refresh your own memories, this project has too many details. It would be like asking monkeys to use magic that rewrites reality.' I didn’t quite understand the comparison. Did magic that rewrites reality actually exist? I started walking back to Thrain’s forge. He would soon finish separating the sulfur from the sand.
"But what if we use magic? Look, instead of a complex device involving a drum mechanism, couldn't we spin it using magic? Or, I don’t know, summon the bullets?" I felt I was about to be insulted. I saw Magnus rolling his eyes inside my head.
'Magic isn’t capable of doing everything, you know? But, thinking along those lines, there are some runes that allow manipulation of existing matter to form metal. Metal spheres work as bullets, right?' I became completely intrigued.
"You mentioned magic that rewrites reality and now you’re telling me magic can’t do everything?" I challenged Magnus’s own logic. "And what about an explosive trigger? Also, is there a way to teleport gunpowder inside the weapon?" I was trying to be creative here. I saw this mage open a crater miles wide in my dreams. Something like this should be simple, right?
'All of that would require the creation of multiple highly complex magical items. An artificial core that allows the replacement of magical crystals—maybe a necklace? Besides, you can’t control magic, so pre-set runes might be interesting. The problem is activating and deactivating the runes.' Magnus’s mind was clouded. We remained silent for several minutes as I approached Thrain’s shop.
"What about gloves? Search my mind for hand signs. Ninjas are super cool." I tried to help, but I felt like a six-year-old giving useless and idiotic opinions. I opened the door and admired the various weapons and armor in the shop. Magnus didn’t respond. He was actually searching through my memories.
"It’s ready." Thrain Forgebeard placed a clay jar, about two kilos, on the counter. He was smiling. "Now, what is this stuff for? My entire forge smells like farts."
"To avoid blowing up your shop, we need a bit of water. By the way, do you have a scale?" I talked about two things at once to avoid scaring the dwarf.
"E-e-explode?" My tactic didn’t work. I made a calming gesture with my hands while smiling.
"Don’t worry, that’s why we need the water. We’ll make a paste with these ingredients and let it dry in the sun. That way, the quality of our gunpowder will be excellent." The dwarf was sweating as he went to his forge to fetch a bucket of water. There would be some leftover sulfur. I wondered if we should make sulfuric acid or some cosmetic product.
'You’re looking more like an alchemist than a mage.' Magnus pointed out in my mind. He was right. Sulfuric acid would certainly be considered advanced alchemy in medieval times.
'Do you happen to have some lost laboratory somewhere with lots of glass flasks, Magnus?' I asked. It had been centuries, but glass was a durable material.
I was happy. By the end of the afternoon, we would have gunpowder, we could make small explosives to sell, and we would store a small amount of gunpowder. The profit would be immense. Maybe a demonstration for some nobles… The amount of gunpowder sold wouldn’t affect the world in such a complicated way anyway.