On Earth, Luka remembered the work-related concept of a “time crunch” rather well. Specifically, he thought about a time long before joining up with the military. He worked at a small engineering firm that focused on servo motors and all the accompanying parts. Truth be told, the job was not fun. From long hours and a grueling internship process, the job was little more than a means to pay for school.

And yet, somehow, every “crunch time” at this firm just so happened to coincide with exams and/or finals. In reality, two-to-three-month project completion rates were rather common, which also happened to be the length of time needed to learn a couple of testable subjects in school.

In other words, it was just unfortunate timing that made Luka’s crunch-time was leagues worse than normal. That was why he looked for jobs elsewhere, eventually accepting a position his professor introduced to him—and thus joining the military side of things.

And yet, here, standing before a plot of land designated the “pirate-themed area” on an alien world he still didn’t know the name of, Luka couldn’t help but look back on that first firm fondly. They got him through school and taught many real-world lessons.

One such lesson: preparation.

Luka shuffled his ever-growing stack of crudely drawn blueprints, eyeing each one. Each design was a pendulum swing ride and rather similar if he was being honest. How many different ways could a simple machine—a pendulum—be engineered? Luka counted thirteen practical ways, only a few of which would go well with the whole amusement park thing.

Next, Luka shuffled through his blueprints of various pirate ships, stopping on his favorite. He could see it now—families, friends, loved ones, each riding the pendulum, smiling, laughing, and simply excited. Communities were coming together here; he’d seen as much during the park’s opening. And, in a way, Luka knew he was the glue that stuck it all together.

Imaginative, whimsical, and creative, he reminded himself. A far cry compared to my old life. Cheap, mass-producible, and deadly—the trifecta any General wanted to hear.

“Ready?” Eve asked, stepping up beside him, just arriving from the bar.

Luka slowly nodded, checking his math one more time. Pendulum swings were really simple. A force pushed on a mass, swinging it. A counterweight moved opposite the mass, keeping it moving without significant worry. In other words, so long as the math was right, the ride should work. At least, if he estimated how much weight would be in a ship filled with riders correctly… then again, he didn’t really need to. Magic had him covered.

“Let me check this over one last time,” Luka said as he stared at his pages.

Eve nodded, crossing her sleeveless arms on this chilly night. “That’s fine. Aunt Sol is being her usual late self”

A screeching raven tore through the air like a bat launching itself from a cave. It swooped through the nearby trees, weaving around them before halting midair. The raven threw out its wings just as the crack of bones echoed through the forest. At that point, the bird burst into a puff of purple mist, revealing Aunt Sol in all her mysticism.

“I’ve been here, girl,” she announced as she slowly floated to the ground. She spat out a dark feather.

Eve rolled her eyes. “Always an entrance with you.”

Sol didn’t grace her niece with a response; instead, she turned her attention to Luka. “Did you decide yet?”

“Pendulum ‘A.’” Luka remarked robotically, numbers flying through his mind. What I wouldn’t do for a calculator.

“’Ay?’” Sol asked. “I understand numbering your designs, but what is an ‘eyh?’”

He glanced up. “The first letter of one of my world’s alphabets.”

“Did you see my notes?”

“Yes, and I’m not going to add any of them.” Luka found the Mystic’s notes on the back of his blueprint.

The woman had taken it upon herself to list out ideas that vaguely matched up with the theme of pirates. These included—in no particular order—an “ocean of illusions,” “illusionary sharks,” “storm magic,” and finally a bulleted item that simply read “rain.”

“And why not?” Sol asked, her eternally present smirk dimming.

Luka took a moment to gather his thoughts. “I don’t even know where to begin if I’m being honest. What even is an ‘ocean of illusions?’”

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“It’s an ocean made from illusion magic.”

He scratched his head. I guess that makes sense.

Eve loudly scoffed. “She’s just leading you on. Don’t fall for her tricks.”

Sol’s dim smirk rekindled. “Am not! An ocean of illusions is not off the table here, nor a trick.”

“Shut it, hag. Luka and I have both had a long day. We want to get to bed, and playing your games just isn’t—”

“I’ve had a long day too, Eve. I was at the Guilds, remember?”

“Oh no!” she quickly mocked. “You were standing around a bureaucratic fortress all day talking to people about gaining access—”

“Ladies!” Luka snapped. “I can do this myself if you two are going to argue all night. Eve, you’re right, I do want to get some sleep. And Sol, can you please just explain things to me? If you remember, I’m a newborn in this world.”

Eve’s face crumbled before rebounding into a hardened mask of irritation… before quickly thawing into a guilty frown. “You’re right—our familial problems aren’t yours to deal with. Sorry.”

A low hum echoed from Sol’s throat, one that sounded akin to a bassy bird call. “You’re right. No tricks, no misleading. I will be… the Mystic my family wants me to be for the evening, even if it pains me.”

“Pains you?” Eve quickly asked. “What—” She stopped herself, gritted her teeth, and turned to Luka. “Illusion glyphs create illusions of whatever the glyph master can imagine. But, for obvious reasons, the Guilds restrict all versions except for the smallest, most basic type. So, yes, Sol is technically correct. You could create an ocean of illusions, but with the limitations, the illusion would be the size of your palm.”

“Unless,” Sol said, her smooth green skin reflecting the moonlight, “you have access to Guild-restricted glyphs.”

Eve sucked in a breath. “That’s what you were doing today in Sneerhome? You convinced the Guilds to let Luka—”

“Nope! My business was for something else.”

Eve clenched his fists. “Then why bring it up at all!”

“Dear niece, do you know why the Guilds restrict certain magic?”

Luka answered in hopes of quelling Eve’s growing ire. “So, they can hold a monopoly on certain things, such as glyph services.”

“That’s one reason yes, the other is so that they can better police themselves. Illusions may be fake, but without a discerning eye, people will believe them to be real.”

Eve slowly shook her head. “But once they find out its an illusion, anyone can dispel it by thinking ‘go away.’” She looked at a confused Luka. “The gods changed illusion magic after someone exploited it a thousand years ago,terrorizing a city. Now, regardless of magical prowess, anyone can dispel an illusion by simply wishing to.”

Luka ignored the ‘gods changing an entire aspect of magic’ thing and asked, “But wouldn’t that make illusion magic useless? If anyone can dispel it, what’s the point? Someone would just have to reset the glyph and—"

“Let me stop you—if you dispel an illusion, you only dispel it for yourself. The illusion’s still there, just ‘hidden’ from you until you want it to reappear.” Eve sighed. “But still, Illusions are useless without the Guilds. My aunt is just being herself here and isn’t suggesting something practical.”

Sol’s smirk disappeared at her niece’s statement. Her eyes found the dirt, her shoulders slumped. On her head, her raven headdress cawed, flapping its wings wildly at the other orc.

Then, without her usual heart, she said, “Luka can create perfect glyphs simultaneously across a wide area. Enough palm-sized glyphs over an area and an ocean of illusions is very possible.”

Eve froze, her mind wandering.

Luka regarded the pair. There was far more history between the two than he knew, but Eve, his friend, was coming across as someone he wouldn’t normally associate with. How can the sweetest girl in the village be so hostile? he asked himself. And how could the quirkiest outcast in the village sit there and take it?

“That could work… maybe,” Eve finally said. “But sticking illusions together is a tricky endeavor.”

“It is, normally,” Sol said. “Unless you happen to know the augmentation used in the mass-illusion cluster.”

“But that’s only for Guild members.”

“Normally, yes. But back in my day, the Guilds were a bit more lax. I have a few ‘restricted’ modifiers memorized from when I hired a Guild technician way back when.”

“Why couldn’t you just have started with that? Why did we have to deal with you—”

“Eve!” Luka yelled. “I get you two are family, but I don’t think you should be treating her like that. Either of you.”

She bit her lip, glaring at her aunt, then at Luka. “You don’t get to tell me—”

“I know I don’t! But Sol’s, if I understand everything correctly, is offering up a Guild-restricted glyph modifier to me and the park. I don’t know what the ramifications of using the modifier will be, but they surely are going to all fall on your aunt’s shoulders.”

“It won’t be so bad,” Sol quietly said with a strained calmness. “The Guild will sanction me, likely attempt to force me into their courts. But they won’t try to confiscate the glyphs.”

Luka watched the anger in Eve drain away. She continued to glare, mainly at him and not her aunt.

Good. Eve sees her error, he thought, and now it’s her pride holding her up. Is there something I can say?

Tentatively, Luka said, “We’re all a team here. World Walker Park may be named after me, but I’d be lost without the village—without either of you. So please, I know you two have issues. But please… just please.”

He didn’t know how to finish the statement without coming across as way out of line. Telling them to hug and make-up was obviously out of the picture. No, fixing their problems—and Franky’s—would take a while. Luka just hoped the park’s success would ease things.

“Sorry, Aunt Sol.”

Sol stood shocked, her eyes locked on the ground. “Thank you, Eve. And I’m sorry as well… for everything.”