Daniel holds his hand on the sensor orb of the analysis relic, the fancy magical fantasy device that was used on the first day to determine that, unlike Rikuto, Daniel is completely devoid of magic in this world to such a degree, he can’t even benefit from the effects of magic, unless its effect is secondary to its actual spell. And, like then, the sensor orb is completely dark, not glowing at all.
Wenlianna, the high-ranking Court Magic Artisan, stands nearby with her arms crossed. She was certain that, having spent over two months in this world, Daniel’s body would have absorbed enough magic to at least behave like an animal or plant. With her hypothesis shot down, it reopens the mystery of why Daniel is devoid of all magic. Rikuto, during the transfer, gained magic affinity, as well as a magic skill.
She asks, “You’re not a super-mage hiding your abilities, are you?”
Daniel chuckles. “If I am, my Lady, I’m fooling myself as well.”
She steps forward and flips his hand over. Still nothing. She tugs his shirt chest down, gently placing his cheek against the sensor, still with no reaction. She groans in frustration, and she allows him to stand back up, complaining, “How is this possible!? Everything I know suggests you should have SOME magic absorbed. Otherwise, how could plants and animals have it?”
She puts his hand back onto the orb, observing no glow for a moment before she touches a single finger of her own to the orb as well, and it immediately starts to glow. As soon as she removes her own finger, the glow dissipates.
Daniel offers, “If it makes you feel any better, my Lady, in my world, we had fictional stories about this sort of thing where the summoned person’s power is so massive, it destroys the measuring system.”
She’s surprised, but for several reasons. She asks quickly, “Destroyed? Wait! You had fiction with divine summonings!? And magic!? I thought you said your world has no magic!”
“It doesn’t. For us, it’s fantasy. And yes. There were various types. Transported into video-... uh… fictional settings of stories, which serve as the setting. Transported into worlds like this; alien to the transported person or persons. Some of them were through summonings, others were through… uh… [reincarnation] after death.”
“Reincarnation?” repeats the woman, pronouncing the English word well.
Daniel nods as he thinks. “Is that not a concept here? Your soul cycling from one life into a new life, sometimes in a different form.”
“NO! What sort of thing is that!?”
Daniel chuckles. “It’s an aspect of some of the religious faiths and non-religious beliefs of our world. Fearful of the notion of death, we envision either a paradise or retribution awaiting us based on our deeds, or a cycle of the universe that reuses our souls. Some people believe there’s nothing after death.”
Wenlianna exclaims excitedly, “YOU HAVE TO TELL ME MORE!”
She realizes her outburst, and she clears her throat. “That is to say, we should compare these cultural differences.”
“As you wish, my Lady.”
She groans in disgust suddenly. “Daniel! This is going to be the last time I tell you this; just call me ‘Wenlianna’ when we’re not in court. PLEASE. I didn’t ask to be born a noble, and I only work as hard as I do to keep my status so I can pursue my own research. So DROP the formality. I’m serious.”
Daniel is quiet for a long time. She cocks her head, asking a little coldly, “Did you not understand something?”
Again, he hesitates, starting to speak, but trailing off. “I’m afraid I can’t do that, my Lady.”
“Why not!? Why are you so damn polite!? You’re annoying the hell out of me. Why do you still have your hand there? Why did you let me just shove your cheek to that thing? Stand up for yourself! If you don’t want to work for me, speak up! I don’t want a mindless minion. I can’t get rid of them! Say something!”
Daniel matches her gaze for most of her rant, but he looks away at the end. It’s clear to her that he’s hiding something, but it’s clearly bothering him.
He replies softly, “I’m a coward. The last thing I want in life is confrontation of any kind. I don’t handle it well. I can take it.” He looks her in the eyes, adding softly, “You want to know something else about those fictions; in some of them, the summoned person is seen as useless, or he’s betrayed. He’s sent out to die, or he’s framed, or imprisoned. In the best of them, he or she has a secret power that’s far greater than anyone else in the world.”
Daniel looks at the orb, where his hand still rests. “That person has power.” He finally removes his hand from the relic, adding as he stares at the larger sphere. “The whole time I’ve been here, I’ve been terrified. That’s the truth. Terrified that my powerlessness and my ignorance is going to get me enslaved or killed. When the princess mentioned training me as a soldier, I thought about running. When I was allowed to simply leave and live in town, I did everything I could to create even a little bit of the illusion of security; neighbors, clients, acquaintances. Someone who might miss me when I’m gone, so it wouldn’t be so easy to make me vanish.”
He looks at Wenlianna again, “Apologies if my formality is annoying, and if I’m failing your tests. I can take the abuse. It hasn’t reached the line of what I’ve experienced, and what I learned back then is that a beaten dog is not a dead dog.”
Wenlianna listened patiently, though she’s not happy. She replies somewhat sourly, “That’s an awful way to live.”
“Some people are meant to live. The rest of us are just meant to be alive.”
She approaches him and smacks him.
“That is the last time you speak that way. If you want to die, do it out of my sight. But, until then, I need you. You’re not powerless. Not with your wisdom. So what if you can’t use magic? There HAS to be a meaning behind it. That’s why I want to figure it out. Or, failing that, I want to make us both filthy rich with our combined genius. And, if you don’t want to be filthy rich, then we’ll be indispensable. You say you want security? Friends? Allies? I’m here, right now, telling you I’m your friend. And, as your friend, I’m demanding that you speak to me like one. Got it?”
He confirms with a nod.
“Good. I want to start working on some new inventions starting tomorrow, and during that, I’ll work on teaching you the principles of magic equipment. Are you willing to do that with me?”
Daniel nods civilly.
She sighs. “Cheer up, Daniel. You’re mine, now, which means you’re not going anywhere unless I allow it, alright? That… came out wrong. What I mean is, you’re not getting sent off to war, you’re not getting killed. None of that. Let’s make some amazing stuff.” She offers her hand, and Daniel studies it for a moment.
He takes a breath, and then grips her hand. “Alright. I’ll do it… Wenlianna.”
She grins. “That’s more like it.”
***********
Gunther wheels the strange chair down the hallway, rushing to make sure he isn’t late. His apprenticeship has stringent requirements; each day, he rotates between the various fields of magic to broaden his experience and level of knowledge. For most of his mentors, it generally requires a basic test and some gifts to get the signatures he needs. After all, mages specialize in fields, so to learn the entire spectrum of magic is ultimately meaningless.
That said, his most difficult signatures to obtain thus far have been the ‘Status Slayer’, the eccentric and reclusive Magic Artisan of the Royal Court, whose impossible standards for apprentices are to master Artisan levels of experience and knowledge.
Gunther just wants to get past his apprenticeship program and begin his Royal career, headed for the Royal Court himself. He wants to specialize in offensive magic, since the Battle Mage of the Royal Court is often considered the third in command of the entire Kingdom, and his station is one of respect and honor.
However, the basement-dwelling gremlin who takes joy in ending apprenticeships by driving the apprentices to quitting stands in Gunther’s way. He’s been endlessly polite, and he’s tried to offer the customary gifts, performing the menial tasks she demands of him, and yet, she still refuses to sign off on his apprenticeship. His father is an Earl, and he’s tried escalating the issue to him and, by extension, the King, but there’s nothing that can be done. For whatever reason, Wenlianna is untouchable, and that no self-respecting Court Mage would overlook skipping her signature, regardless of connections of the apprentice. It’s incredible that one small woman wields so much power in the kingdom, but there’s nothing to be done.
Either way, Gunther has a master key to his future; the strange otherworldly chair that came with the two men who were summoned a few months ago. The chair’s design is complex and almost fantastical, as it’s said to be extremely comfortable. Gunther spent a small fortune to get his hands on the chair, which had been circulating around the castle since the summoning ritual. Wenlianna had tried to demand the chair during those first couple of weeks, but she was stone-walled by her peers, who were in possession of the chair.
Now, it’s Gunther’s, and he’ll see that signature if it’s the last thing he does.
He carefully carries the chair down the long flights of stairs descending towards the wretched woman’s lab. He dares not have servants carry the chair for him, lest she accuse him of laziness. She even offered to sign off the apprenticeship signatures for the servants he used last time he tried something like this, right in front of him.
He sighs. “Just gotta get that signature, Gunther. It’ll all be worth it. You’ll be the first since she started. How prestigious that will be.”
He reaches the bottom of the stairs, wheeling the chair to the door to her lab. There’s one final staircase in the lab, but it’s actually a much easier descent. And, thankfully, the chair has such compact wheels on the bottom making it easy to move across the ground.
He enters the lab, announcing his arrival, “My Lady Wenlianna, I’m here to work. But, I also brought…” He trails off when he hears her talking to someone.
“... think we can pressurize a container with it?”
“That’s what I’m curious about. From what I’ve seen so far, there’s not a particular limit on the output of the crystals.”
“Hmmm… With exception of total stored energy, you’re not wrong. As long as mana is supplied, the crystals can output at maximum…”
The person that replied to her was a man, and his accent is strange. Gunther looks over the walkway to the lab’s lower floor, where the analysis relic is, along with the Magic Artisan’s lab.
She’s crowded in close to a much taller man with black hair, and he is inspecting a magic crystal; a wind crystal, given its faint blue-green color. And, to make matters worse, he’s touching it with his bare hands.
Gunther works his way with the chair down to the floor, announcing himself again. “Lady Wenlianna, it is I, Gunther. I’ve come to…”
She waves her hand dismissively, “Yeah yeah, whatever it is, put it over there.”
It’s her typical response when she’s distracted.
The man, however, notices him. Wenlianna takes the wind crystal with her gloved hands, asking him, “If you can pressurize, what do you plan to do?”
The man is the tallest person Gunther’s ever met, but his physique is otherwise average. He replies to Wenlianna, “There are a lot of applications off-hand. One I hope will work is an automatic pump. But, before that… Do you need to address him…?”
Wenlianna looks over her shoulder. She cocks her head, like Gunther isn’t supposed to be there, and she teases somewhat dryly, “Oh. Gunther. Is it Fifday already?”
“Yes, my Lady,” replies the apprentice politely. “And, I have brought a gift…”
Wenlianna stares at the chair for a long moment, but her expression doesn’t shift. She asks, “Did you spend money to get that?”
“It was nothing compared to…”
“Doesn’t matter how much. That belongs to the otherworlder. Why would you spend money on it?”
Confused, Gunther replies, “I-I wanted to obtain it on your behalf, my Lady, so that I could…”
“Listen, if you’re giving this to me as a gift, I’m keeping it. But, this is your last chance to try to go get your money back. When the otherworlder it belongs to asks for it back, the King WILL require it be returned to him.”
“I’ve heard the Otherworlder Rikuto is acting as King Regent in his Majesty’s stead, my Lady. If he wanted it back…”
“Not him. The other-otherworlder.”
Gunther ponders it, but he sticks to his conviction. If that becomes the case, so be it. His gesture is all that matters. “My Lady, I have no regrets. Please accept this gift.”
She sighs. “Very well.” She glances at the man standing next to her, saying strangely politely, “Put it wherever.” She then looks at Gunther, staring at him for a moment as the tall man approaches to move the chair.
“Gunther, give me your apprenticeship card.”
Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.
Surprised, the apprentice glances at the tall man, and then at Wenlianna. He asks, “What?”
“Don’t play deaf. This is the quietest my lab’s been in months. Give it to me.”
He hesitates, afraid she’s going to tear it up. It’s rare for any instructor to do something so rash and disrespectful to the process, but it has happened. Though, to Gunther’s knowledge, Wenlianna isn’t one of the mentors who has.
He cautiously walks over to her as the tall man wheels the chair out of the way, near the work-bench they were just working on. She takes the qualification card and walks to a pedestal where she has a pen and notebook. She dips the pen in her ink and scribbles on his card, stunning the apprentice. She writes a grade; “4” and hands it back to him. She waves at him dismissively as she returns to the work bench, “There. Go forth and do amazing things, blah blah. You pass. Been a pleasure, Gunther.”
He stares at the card. ‘4’ is the score she gave him out of ten, which is the absolute bare minimum grade that can be considered passing. It all but explicitly says that she’s just trying to get rid of him, while also not bothering to ensure he knows anything and not wasting the time to justify failing him entirely.
On one hand, he has the signature he needs. He can go back upstairs right now, finish the last few tasks on his card, and begin his career.
However, anyone who sees his card will know that Wenlianna -in her ever changing whims- lost interest in mentoring him. The Royal Court is a small community, and he can already hear Wenlianna being asked about Gunther, only to reply “Who?”.
He looks at the Magic Artisan and the strange man, who operates a part of the chair, causing it to raise the seat suddenly. Wenlianna gasps in surprise, and she cackles gleefully as she plops down on the seat, spinning in a full circle on the seat’s strange design. The chair’s height puts Wenlianna a little high for her desk, and the man shows her the lever, and she taps it, which drops her with a yelp. She laughs, adjusting herself down to the perfect height for her. She asks, “How does it do that?”
The man replies, “I’ve never assembled the cylinder, but it’s a form of spring-loaded [hydraulics], I think.”
“Hydraulics?”
He replies with a nod. “Yes. Extremely simplified, pressure versus volume work using fluids. Liquids are best.”
She nods eagerly, absorbing the knowledge.
Gunther twitches. Wenlianna, the arrogant know-it-all Magic Artisan is absorbing knowledge.
From a stranger.
Gunther steps closer, asking a little sharply, “Lady Wenlianna, who is this?”
The Magic Artisan looks up at him from her new chair. “Hmm? You’re still here?”
“Of course! Am I supposed to be satisfied with being cast aside?”
She frowns, growling, “You got what you wanted. I’ll happily slay you next, Gunther. Press the issue. I dare you.”
He flinches, but he doesn’t back down. “Regardless, that doesn’t explain this man.”
She looks up at the man, who is slathering a paste on one of her precious tomes. Gunther nearly bursts out in anger, but Wenlianna replies casually, “Daniel? Oh! I suppose you haven’t been formally introduced. Daniel, this is Gunther, my former apprentice. Gunther, this is Daniel, my assistant.”
Daniel nods politely. “A pleasure, my Lord.”
Gunther sucks his teeth. “Assistant? Since when do you have an assistant, my Lady?”
She frowns, “Since when is that your business? I know exactly when it ceased to be.”
“I refuse to acknowledge this man as your apprentice! Who even is he? Whose house does he belong to?”
Wenlianna retorts dryly, “Okayyyy… Don’t acknowledge him then.”
Daniel replies for himself, “I don’t belong to a house, my Lord. I serve Lady Wenlianna. That’s all.”
“A commoner!? Lady Wenlianna-...”
The Magic Artisan slides off of the chair to stand up, crossing her arms with a scowl. “Your ignorance is as glaring as your ineptitude with magic, Gunther. Accept your signature and leave. If you push this any further, I will see you humiliated, disgraced, and disrobed. This is your last chance.”
“This shall not stand! No one has worked harder than I have to earn your respect, and you cast me aside for some commoner?” He approaches Daniel, growling, “You! What could you POSSIBLY know about magic?”
Wenlianna nods at him, and he answers plainly, “Honestly, my Lord, next to nothing. But, the equipment…”
“NOTHING!?” He whirls to glare at Wenlianna. “YOU of all people took a commoner apprentice with no talent for magic!? What of your ‘lofty expectations’? Do you REALIZE how many times I’ve run up and down these god-forsaken stairs for your meaningless errands?”
Wenlianna stares at him, unmoved. She growls, “You got your signature, didn’t you?”
“And a borderline failing grade! All so you can… what? Get this COMMONER to lick your toes?”
Daniel glances uneasily at Wenlianna, but her glare doesn’t harden or soften. She retorts coldly, “You have a problem with my assistant, very well. He will prove why he’s my first-ever assistant. I propose a duel. You both will have one week to prepare a presentation. I don’t care what it is, so long as it’s legal. At the end of that week, I’ll invite the rest of the Royal Court to judge your presentations and determine a winner. Will that shut you up?”
Gunther nods confidently. “And, when I win, I want you to change my grade to a ten and retire from the Royal Court.”
Wenlianna agrees dryly, “Very well. And if Daniel wins, I assume you’ll leave your punishment up to me?”
“Whatever. I’m winning this.”
Gunther storms out of the lab, making his way to his other mentors. He’ll create something that will blow away the little gremlin and her peasant servant.
***********
Daniel reluctantly states, “If it’s going to cause problems, I’d really rather not…”
“Not doing it will cause bigger problems. Make one of your gadgets. Whatever you want. I won’t be able to help you, and we need to make a show of it, but I can bankroll both projects, which will keep it even and unbiased.”
“I don’t know that I can…”
“Do your best, Daniel. That’s all I want.”
“But…”
“What? My career? Screw ‘em. I’ve got what I want, and he’s just being petty because I gave him the bare minimum too easy. Looks bad on the resume.”
Daniel is respectfully quiet for a moment, and Wenlianna takes a seat on the chair. “If you want your chair back, too bad. I accept your gift as an offering for my good graces.”
Daniel scoffs. “Wasn’t that Lord Gunther’s gift to you?”
“Like I said, when you come back, the king has to give it back or risk being accused of aiding and abetting theft. They could kill you, but it’d be the seeds of ruin for this kingdom.”
“Once more, I think you’re overestimating my importance.”
“Maybe. But, I guess you’ll just have to prove me right next Fifday, am I right?” She grins at him.
Daniel sighs. “How does this work? I can’t discuss the work with you, can I?”
“Any ideas what you want to do for your presentation? I’d recommend building something, since that’s your specialty. Once you have an idea, I’ll have the appropriate equipment moved up to the courtyard where you can be watched. Otherwise, you’re free to go on your own.”
Daniel ponders for a moment, and she slides her old chair over in front of Daniel’s computer chair. She pats it, and he takes a seat to think. She puts her feet up on his lap, minus her shoes, and lounges in the spring-loaded reclinable chair. She sighs, “Oooohhhh… I wouldn’t want to come to this world, either, Daniel… Maybe you should just make another one of these.”
Daniel chuckles. “That’s probably a little outside of my capacity right now, Wenlianna. But, I do have an idea.”
“Mmm? This idea; will it resemble something from your world?”
Daniel confirms with a nod. “I believe so. The automatic pump. I think I know how I can make it work.”
She grins, but he asks, “Why does it matter if it resembles something from my world?”
She grins even wider. “Because, at least one member of the Royal Court will be able to recognize it from his own world.”
Thinking on her words, he realizes, “You mean Rikuto?”
She nods with a wicked smile. “Apparently, as you heard, he’s King Regent. Just means it’s semi-official until they can crown him formally. I heard mention of it a week or so ago, but I didn’t pay any attention.”
“I should get to work, then.”
“Awww, you’re going to move already? I just got comfortable.”
“I have a lot of preparations to make. I’ll be leaving the castle grounds.”
She sighs and nods. “Very well. Anything you need from me? Components, wise. I obviously can’t…”
“May I use that wind-crystal for the final project?”
She grins eagerly. “You may.”
“Everything else, I should be able to acquire on my own, then. I’ll keep the receipts.”
She nods with a warm smile. “I look forward to your finished product, then.”
************
Gunther delivers the drawings he needs to the Castle Smithy. He doesn’t specifically have to invent something new, just demonstrate his abilities as a mage and future Court Mage. However, he realized defeating Wenlianna’s ‘assistant’ at her own field of study would be icing on the cake. He couldn’t defeat Wenlianna, but her embarrassment of choice for an assistant doesn’t stand a chance. He may not be the most versed in magical equipment, but he just needs to put this peasant in his place and move on with his career.
And as if a sign from the gods themselves, Gunther stumbled across a device in town that no one seems to know how it works. A mysterious artificer that passed through installed the device on one of the neighborhood wells, and it produces water without having to use the bucket and hoist.
The blacksmith took some convincing on the design, but with a water crystal in the case and a mana crystal in the lever, it’s extremely easy to assemble and use.
He’ll check back in later. Now, he needs to produce the crystals. Of course, the water crystal won’t last long, but it just needs to pass the test. And, since it’s apparently good enough to service townsfolk, it’s a good and easy project that should impress the Royal Court.
As Gunther is returning to his private quarters, though, he passes Wenlianna. She asks with a wry smile, “Turning in, Gunther?”
He nods proudly. “Yes, my Lady.”
She smiles cryptically, nodding. “Keep up the good work, then.”
He watches her as she walks away. Something about that last part wasn’t sincere. She’s not threatened by the stakes in the least.
Does she not want to even be a part of the Royal Court? Why drag this out then?
He shakes his head. Sometimes, there’s no telling with eccentrics.
The next two days involve the deliveries of his components, and he pieces them together with several days to spare. It was a relatively easy build, and he can’t believe no one’s tried anything like it before.
He checks Wenlianna’s lab, but he finds only the Magic Artisan sitting in the fancy chair as she reads through the book that Daniel was ruining with his strange paste. However, she’s got it laid out sideways.
Curious, Gunther checks with the blacksmith and the other mentors. In spite of that, no one seems to have seen Daniel -most don’t even know who he’s talking about-.
Did he run? Where is he?
Deciding to circle back and pry for information, Gunther heads back to Wenlianna’s lab. She’s asleep in the chair this time, snoring a little. She hears one of his footsteps and jolts awake. She looks around, adjusting her seeing glasses and the headpiece. “Oh! Gunther. Probably shouldn’t be seen down here, or people might assume bias.”
“I was curious why your assistant hasn’t been seen all week, my Lady.”
She shrugs. “I’m not his keeper. As far as I know, he’s working on his presentation project.”
“Where would he be doing that? No one in the castle has seen him.”
“Well, if he doesn’t show up on Fifday, I suppose he loses by default, won’t he?”
Gunther scowls suspiciously at her. She knows more than she lets on. She’s always been deflective and sarcastic. It’s one of her least endearing qualities.
“You aren’t worried that he’s cheating?”
She shrugs again, “That’ll be up to the judge to decide at the presentation. That’s the point of a presentation.”
Gunther tries to think of something else to get out of her, but it’s clear she’s not interested in micromanaging. He decides to give up for now. The reveal will be made on the day of the presentations. Everyone in the Royal Court will bear witness, which will go a long way to making connections for Gunther.
The days pass, and still, Daniel never makes an appearance. On the eighth day; the eve of the duel, Gunther returns to Wenlianna’s lab. She’s once again testing various plants on the analysis relic.
She remarks without looking, “I’m not interested in marriage. Go away.”
“It’s me.”
She looks. “Gunther? Better than another suitor, I suppose. What can I do for you? Here to forfeit?”
Gunther scoffs. “As if I would. I came to tell you your champion is still absent.”
“The presentation is tomorrow. What he does until then isn’t my business.”
“I came to give you a way out, my Lady. Renounce the commoner Daniel as your assistant, and restore my apprenticeship, but with some respect.”
“HA! You come here asking me to forfeit, and then want to talk about respect?” She laughs, flopping backwards into her new favorite chair. The chair Gunther gifted to her.
She retorts humorously, “The very fact that you can’t see what’s wrong is why you would never have passed my apprenticeship, Gunther. You should have just accepted your barely passing grade and gone on with your life. Take your licks and the rumors, and move on.” She grins up at him, saying deviously, “Just remember, Gunther. I gave you what you wanted. YOU started this.”
“I DON’T WANT A PITY GRADE! I wanted to be respected!”
She turns back to her meaningless task, retorting without interest, “Wanting and earning are almost complete opposites. Daniel knows that.”
He grits his teeth. “Fine! Remember you chose the losing side, Lady Wenlianna.” He storms out of the lab and back up to the ground level. It’s evening now, with the sun barely peeking above the horizon. The last nougen-drawn cart for the night is passing through the gate. He turns in for the night, preparing his invention for the next morning.
Gunther puts on his best outfit; one fit for a Royal audience, including his family’s crest and his title’s mantle hanging over his left arm.
When he exits his quarters, he hears a curious sound. There’s a gathering in the courtyard. It must be the early audience who wants to see what he invented ensuring that they get satisfactory seating before the event begins. Gunther makes his way down, but no one seems to notice him. Instead, they’re all staring in one direction.
What they’re staring at nearly causes Gunther’s heart to stop.
Sitting on some sort of metal machine near the castle’s clearwater creek, about the size of a barrel is the tall man known as Daniel. His eyes have dark circles, and his cheeks are stained with soot and filth. His clothes are similarly stained and have rips on the sleeves and pant legs. He looks absolutely repulsive.
He has his eyes closed, and he’s simply listening to the crowd around him, which seems to agree with Gunther; he looks atrocious. His peasant-status couldn’t be any more clear.
Wenlianna calls out from the middle of the front of the crowd, “Ahhh! Both contestants are early. We’ll let Lord Gunther set his presentation up, and we’ll begin.” The audience backs up a little, making room for the messenger to retrieve the Royal Family and the rest of the Royal Court, including the other mages of the Court.
Wenlianna instructs Gunther, “Gunther, go ahead and set up over there.”
Gunther clears his throat. Stay calm. His device still has to work. If mine has a drawback, his will undoubtedly be worse. Without a talent for magic, the price for his will be double just to buy the crystals.
Gunther keeps his head high, waving over his personal servants, who set up his presentation. It’s much smaller, but size isn’t an indication of function. The metal alone would be far too expensive for anyone to afford with Daniel’s. Gunther’s can obviously be bought for town wells.
And, his butler hangs the device on the metal pole while his maid keeps the lever down so it doesn’t accidentally discharge water while they’re setting up. The crystal will have a shorter lifespan than usual, since it’s water, but it’s a prototype. He only needs it for the presentation, since he won’t be an Artisan trying to improve its design.
Once the servants have finished, they step back to the side, and Gunther faces the crowd. He smiles at Wenlianna, stating, “I am ready. Thank you for your patience.”
Wenlianna is smiling confidently and warmly. She seems completely unconcerned with the fact that she’s soon to be out of a job. She states warmly, “Once the Royal Court arrives, then, we’ll be all set. Thank you all for your punctuality.”
The audience resumes murmuring to each other, and a few approach Gunther to ask about his device. He happily requests that they wait until the demonstration, as he wants to maximize the impression it leaves.
He does notice Baroness Veriuv and her husband, Baron Montralk, talking, though their expressions don’t seem as impressed as the others. They glance at Daniel, but the strange peasant doesn’t even look up.
Gunther makes small talk until the crier calls out the arrival of the Royal Court.
Now, it begins.
******************