Much like Breeze Haven’s training hall, this room was also larger on the inside than on the outside. Tall ceilings rested at the top of dark metallic walls. There were no windows, but artifacts in their place lit the room with a bright, even light.
Because of the nature of artificing, it would have been needlessly troublesome to separate weapons or things which could be interpreted as weapons, and thus, the treasury essentially doubled as an armory. There were ancient looking banners with runes painted on them hung on the wall, or blades that emanated inexplicable energy fastened from floor to ceiling.
Staves, seeing the most use and variety, had their own room, and the various artifacts were similarly filed with like pieces. Cira brought along a small group mortal of the council along—James, Jimbo, and Dutchy because she was good with money.
“I’ve already taken the catalysts I really want,” Cira fell back into a pile of gold like it were leaves in the fall, “The rest of what I took from Wick should probably stay with Lost Cloud or whatever. Rather, it should become New Acher’s wealth.”
“My, how generous of you, Captain Dreadheart!” Dutchy was visibly nervous.
“You need to stop being so stiff,” waving a gem-encrusted goblet at her, Cira pushed herself off the mound before filling it with water and holding it out, “thirsty?”
She took it with an unsteady hand and took a sip as Cira gestured for the gold to rise. There were artifacts mixed in, but nothing particularly notable or even close to ancient. She made a pile of obvious novice work and a few more of basic currencies.
Dutchy made a flustered face before pounding the contents of the goblet and setting it on the ground, “Should be about this big.” Her hands formed the outline of a circle a little bigger than Cira’s head. She was describing Captain Cloud’s last clue—supposedly an artifact.
“And it’s a perfect sphere made of crystal or something?” She was digging through the pile just to make herself and everyone feel better but, “There’s nothing like that here.”
“If it wasn’t in his treasury…” Dutchy put a hand on her chin in deep thought.
“I doubt if the dumb bastard even knew what it looked like,” Jimbo suggested. “Let alone what it did or where it was.”
“Hey, you’re right.” He and James found a rare moment of complete agreement. “I heard the last King actually tried looking for Paradise. Who’s to say it’s not in one of those old boxes Wick left to collect dust in one of his towers?”
“Oh? Then someone should have found it.” Cira rubbed her hands together, “It must still be at the palace, right?”
“Right. You didn’t burn it with the trash, did you?” Jimbo had little faith.
“Of course not! I didn’t even burn broken artifacts.”
“So, let’s go look.” James turned towards the door trying to leave, but Cira had one more item on the docket.
“Hold on. Before we leave the treasury, I would like to retrieve everyone’s payment. I think gold is too petty to compensate those who helped me since landing here.” Cira walked the opposite direction, leading everyone further down the gilded hall, “Do you think I should pay in weapons, artifacts, catalysts, rare materials, or perhaps some combination?”
“Well, I’ll take a few of each.” Jimbo cheersed nobody with his flask and tipped it back.
James shook his head and spoke next, “I can only think rare materials would be simplest. It’s the closest thing to money and that’s what’s going to make any pirate feel better.”
Cira turned and held up a finger in realization, “Oh, I have ancient money! I doubt most of it is in circulation though.”
“That… sort of sounds like rare materials with extra steps.” Dutchy added, “Why don’t we just start with metals? Something heavy will suffice if you don’t want it to be too valuable. Pirates are simple folk.”
“Don’t misunderstand. The point is that I offer something of as much value as possible, within reason of course.” Cira snapped her fingers and a standard Lamplight appeared. “I am rewarding those who helped me regain my aura, and not die in the process.”
“You might have those results backwards.” James was ignored.
“And to our left is surplus storage for the forge—Oh, I just knew I had another ingot!” Cira joyfully bounded into the room on two healthy legs, her soft, silken robes bounced along with just as much whimsy. She picked up a shimmering golden brick, “Do you think orichalcum is too much? I can slice it real thin.”
“O-orichalcum?!” Dutchy was in a daze, “You’re joking. Of course it’s too much!”
“In what world is that an ingot?” James pointed out that next to Cira’s smiling face was a cube a few inches taller. “How are you even holding that? Put it down. That’s way too much.”
As someone on the receiving end of her rewards, she had no choice but to trust James’ assessment, which also lent credence to Dutchy’s credibility. She cut off a small block and it disappeared into her ring for later, setting the rest down with a sigh.
“But I really wanted to do something nice for everyone,” She pouted.
“You can do something else for them, but do you think a gang of pirates can show up on the Boreal with a bunch of paper-thin sheets of orichalcum and not have Earth Vein sniffin’ around?” As always, James’ logic cut to the heart of the matter, “Could be the push they really needed to finally seek this place out. I have my doubts the witches couldn’t find it if they tried.”
Note: curse the island so that witches may never find it.
Alternate note: create an obfuscation array before I leave instead.
“What’s this…?” Dutchy seemed drawn to a certain translucent ore Cira was taught not to touch with her bare hands. It bore a pearlescent sheen like quartz without imperfection. Cira decided to wait until she tried to pick it up, “Yahh!”
The sorcerer snickered as she played the same prank her father pulled on her years ago. The ore remained on its shelf while Dutchy snapped her head around like she had just gotten in trouble.
“It’s commonly known as glacial bedrock.” Cira wiggled her fingers, and a small pebble broke off before smoothing over into a bead. “I used to put a little piece like this in my juice on hot summer days. I suppose you haven’t been to the bottom of Archaeum… but think of it like permafrost from the coldest part of an ice shelf—all that frigid mana has seeped into it for hundreds, maybe even thousands of years. Thus, it can be removed from such conditions without its temperature changing even a smidge. Maybe it could be handy around the bar. Do you want a little? It will never melt or get warmer to even the slightest degree.”
Stolen story; please report.
A leather pouch appeared from somewhere and Cira tossed the bead in, along with three more she pulled off.
“W-what?! For me?” The light-red haired woman took the pouch carefully in both hands, “But I… I didn’t do anything! You paid for your beer up front!”
“And you let me rope you into the so-called mortal council with very little resistance and have already proved your worth. I think you deserve something for that.” I’m not solving my problems with money this time, but some problems can only be solved with money or money adjacent items, it seems. I have to offer rewards for jobs well done, after all. Cira walked to the next shelf over and grabbed another two bricks.
In her left hand, a metal that glistened crimson like blood against a flame. And in her right, something a bit more common, but Cira always loved the polished green. A bit deeper than her eyes, like a lush canopy. It was quite nice to look at.
I have dragonite,” She held one up on display before switching out for her other hand, “and adamantine…?”
“You’re in the realm of ‘what the hell even is that’, and ‘Still too valuable’,” Dutchy provided, “But at least you’re outside the range of mythical materials that only appear in legends.”
“No way… Are you trying to tell me nobody’s seen orichalcum on the Boreal?!” Cira was aghast.
“Well, there are legendary mages and artificers on the Boreal… But to people like me, it may as well not be real.” She shrugged. “Think about it. How much mithril did you find in Wick’s treasury? Even that much is rare out here.”
The other two nodded to each other, then James turned to Cira, “Yeah, that’s a good way to put it. Mithril isn’t quite legendary, but pretty close. Just to put it in perspective. Keep passing it around though, and you’ll leave a trail of breadcrumbs made up of all your friends for some witch to follow one day.”
That’s a scary thought… I didn’t even think about that. It keeps coming back to Earth Vein’s greed up here. Perhaps they need to be humbled, but I can’t possibly just tell a hundred witches to line up and wait their turn. Or is it more than that? A thousand witches? I think they’re just hired by the real bad guys though.
“Hmm…” She was stumped in many ways. But what could she give her benefactors? “Well, dragonite is just mithril that’s been superheated in dragon’s fire.”
“What?!” Dutchy asked abruptly. Everyone looked at her like she was crazy. “How do you even gather that?”
“Obviously, by finding it many years after its creation, much like most other metals… Were you thinking there were mad sorcerers out there who seek dragons to place mithril before them…?” You know, I had mithril in my pocket when I saw that dragon… Dammit. This girl sure is creative, but I can’t find myself disapproving.
“N-no… of course not!” She shuffled around nervously and picked up an unfamiliar golden clump. Rather, she tried to. It fell out of her hands almost immediately and smooshed against the floor like a ball of bread dough. “What is that?!” She even stumbled back.
“Oh, that’s mega-gold,” Cira picked it back up and set it on the shelf in its newly flattened state. “It’s produced by compressing gold using elemental principles. It retains its mass while reducing to only a tenth of its volume. If you would believe it, it lasts almost twelve times as long under high-intensity mana conduction compared to regular gold.”
The three council members shared a look then turned their frowns to Cira.
“Don’t you have anything normal…?” Dutchy wasn’t as stiff anymore, but she sounded exasperated.
“It’s normal to have a diverse materials storage…” Her hands fell from her hips as she realized her reasoning wasn’t getting anywhere, so she continued, “Fine. Sapphire? I have plenty of ruby. You know what those are, right? Emerald maybe?”
Cira gestured her hand in display of the next two shelves.
“Th-that’s what those are?!” She stared at them in shock.
“Why are they ingots?!” James asked, at his wit’s end.
“They’re easier to store that way. A gem’s natural state is only important in very specific situations, and I can usually work the imperfections out this way.” She peeled some off and made crystalline coins of three denominations, blue, red, and green. A cameo of Cira was embossed on one side of each with a frown, smirk, then bright smile respectively to denote value. “Huh? What do you think?” They hung their heads low in disappointment. At least we have solidarity on the council… “I can bless a bunch of silver…”
It sat on a low shelf, and Cira had much more than she thought covered in a fine layer of dust.
“Hey… that might work.” Dutchy weighed invisible options in her hands, and the other two agreed with a shrug and a nod. “Its value has shot up ever since the Fount Saint incident.”
“Beg your pardon…? The what?” Cira heard a term she had not heard before.
“Oh, that’s what they’re calling it. You should really check out the newspapers that have been comin’ in.” Jimbo and James were trying to subtly gesture for her to shush and she nervously kept talking, “I-I mean, how long do you think it will take to bless the silver? Even a fistful a piece would let them live like nobles for a decade.”
“See? That’s doesn’t sound like a lot. Silver’s cheap and easy to bless. What are they going to trade it for anyway? Gold?”
“Yeah… probably. But it would be easier to trade than anything else in this room.”
“Great…” Cira sighed and stared off into space for a minute. I should just trust my own judgement here. That’s best at least half of the time. “Fine then. Let’s do it like this.”
A thin stream of gold coins floated in from outside the hall and formed a pile in the center of the room, to everyone’s surprise. They were then encompassed in a shroud of holy light before it quickly dissipated. The coins floated up again and formed various clusters suspended in the air.
“Blessed gold. All the benefits of blessed silver, but it’s gold. Everyone I need to reward will get a satchel full of it. Why not? Maybe I’ll stuff some artifacts in there later.” Leather from the workshop appeared and shaped itself into a bunch of satchels, which then filled with shimmering gold. She hadn’t thought thoroughly about how many she would actually need, so she just kept stuffing them and vanishing them.
“Since when can gold be blessed…?” Dutchy looked concerned, which devolved into full blown panic as one of the glowing satchels pushed itself into her chest until she relented and grabbed it.
“Yeah, I give up.” James threw his hands up in defeat. When a satchel of blessed gold pressed against one of his outstretched palms, he hung his head in defeat. “Can we head back to the palace now?”
“I’m with you.” Jimbo slumped as he slung a satchel over his shoulder.
As they conversed, Cira took this opportunity to replenish her personal treasure pouch.
They felt better taking a boat rather than letting Cira float them up to Breeze Haven, so on the way back she peacefully waited as the ground approached next to the others in some small skiff from the Cove. She was thinking about what kind of artifacts her closest crew may like to receive as gifts.
“That reminds me,” She drew Jimbo’s attention. “I’ve got a special gift planned for you.”
“R-really…? Is it gonna make Tawny mad?”
“What? I would hope not…” Cira hadn’t done her research yet, but she was sure she could figure it out, “I can probably restore your leg before I leave—if you want.”
“Seriously?!” He was dumbstruck sober for a brief moment. “That’s amazing! Are you lyin’ right now?!”
Cira laughed, “I may need to read a book or two first, but I’m confident I can do it. Of course… there lies another path if you would prefer.”
She received a couple uneasy looks, but Jimbo was still on board, “What’s that…?”
“I can make you a new leg… in the forge. A better leg. Stronger, faster, more weaponized. More knives, hover mode… whatever you want really.”
He clenched his fist and glanced down at his missing leg. “The answer’s obvious isn’t it—”
“No, no, no.” James spat his disapproval, “Rather, it is, but not to you. Obviously take the real leg, Capt—no, Cira, why would you suggest something like that?”
“He seemed like he would want it.” She shrugged. “More importantly, we have a problem… I’ve been searching the palace this whole time and what we’re looking for isn’t there. I already double checked his storehouses across the island.”
They were only just landing in the grass of the courtyard.
“I haven’t seen you move, but alright I guess…” Dutchy looked like she was past the point of figuring Cira out, “If it’s not here than he must have moved it to Plackelo. If we can’t get our hands on it though… I’m afraid you might have trouble finding Paradise.”