Chapter 1 #2
“The first few models would need to be.” Blaze held his bag tight and fought the urge to take his designs back.
There was something hungry in Lord Gustus’s expression that twisted his stomach into knots.
Just nerves. Keep calm. “No one will have docking space for an airborne craft, especially not of this size, so being able to port in a harbor will be essential. Those areas are also equipped to handle cargo and passengers, allowing us to use existing infrastructure. For landlocked towns, I have a few ideas for supports that would emerge from the hull. Better done on smaller crafts, I think. At least until we develop the magic and technology to support the weight of larger ships.”
“You based your enchantments in cosmomancy,” Lord Gustus said.
“I studied at Equinal Academy for my degree in mystical engineering. I spent hours watching the gondolas and—”
“And the Navisora craft were your inspiration,” Lord Gustus mused. “Clever work, but the power required to accomplish this feat is beyond the capacity of any machine.”
“I don’t know how familiar you are with cosmomancy, but the elves of Dun Steorra center their magic on universal consistencies.
I believe we have barely scratched the surface of what is possible when we combine that with Gearwickian dedication to pulling magic into our devices, especially in regards to celestial diamonds. ”
Lord Gustus raised an eyebrow. “Surely you don’t believe you’re the first to have that idea.”
“Of course not. But I studied extens—”
“What are your predictions for failure?”
Blaze clasped his hands behind his back. His previous attempts at funding had ended with the answer to this question. “As with any great amount of energy, certain precautions can be taken to mitigate potential damage.”
“Don’t create a watch to tell me it’s raining,” Lord Gustus said sternly.
“Minor problems would result in a nullification that would render some, if not all, materials useless. Major problems could create an explosion of significant size.”
“Define ‘significant.’”
“If the engines were of a large enough size to power a retrofitted sailing ship meant for coastal waters, then a catastrophic failure might level a town the size of Manabelt.”
Lord Gustus’s brows shot up, and he regarded the plans with a more skeptical eye.
The future was slipping through Blaze’s fingers once again. A pleading note tinged his voice despite his efforts to remain calm. “It’s less than a one percent of a one percent chance. Your fountain has the same odds of suddenly spurting gold.”
“It could do that?”
“A few parts would have to fail and cause a specific reaction pattern, and the fountain itself would be destroyed by the sudden transmutation, but yes.”
“Hm.” Lord Gustus returned to examining the schematics. After a long few minutes, he put his hand on Blaze’s shoulder. “You don’t allow convention to hold you back. I like that. How would you like a position in my workshop?”
Thank the gods! But … wait … Blaze’s heart soared, but then his hope faltered faster than a kite missing the wind. Everything made in Lord Gustus’s workshop was seen as his.
His fathers had understood his need to appeal to Lord Gustus but insisted that he stand his ground and demand partnership. “We’ve heard too many stories at the tavern about Lord Gustus claiming rights over an invention crafted in his workshop. Don’t lose your heart’s work to him.”
Maybe I misunderstood. Blaze wrung his hands, grateful he’d had the foresight to put them behind his back so he could hide the action. “So I have access to the materials and assistants needed to finish my prototype for the Innovation Awards next month?”
“Finish?” Lord Gustus asked.
“I have enchanted several of the smaller workings and have an engine under construction, but I need a craft to bind it to and—”
Lord Gustus waved a hand to silence him. “You’re jumping over too many steps. Come work for me, and we can hammer out the deficiencies in your schematics. You’ll be ready in a few years’ time. A decade at most.”
“Patience is important in all things, coggin.” “A failure isn’t a setback.
It’s a data point.” Blaze’s fathers had a million useless words for letting time slip by.
Months had a funny way of turning into years.
Years into decades. Decades could become a century.
Though—gods willing—Blaze had centuries ahead of him, every day was a chance to push boundaries and make his dreams come to life.
His prototype was only held back by a lack of components.
All he needed were the funds, and he would be able to prove his concept.
He could even scale it back for a smaller craft.
A river boat would be enough to prove it worked!
And a far lot easier, he realized as he adjusted the plans in his mind.
It wouldn’t be as flashy, but it would demonstrate his theories all the same.
But when Blaze opened his mouth to reveal his new idea to Lord Gustus, he saw the gluttonous want in his hard gaze.
Lord Gustus was attempting to butter him up, but he only wanted another hand in his workshop making things for him, not with him.
The word partner would never come up around an elf like him.
“No.” Blaze began to roll up his schematics and slide them into their tube.
“Mr. Levimist, do you have any idea how many airship schematics I’ve seen this last decade alone?
” Lord Gustus asked. “What you need to do is apply your trade in a nurturing setting so you can understand the difficulties in creating something so unique. After a few years in my workshop, you’ll be able to approach your designs with a sharpened eye. ”
“No, thank you.”
“No one else is going to give you the chance to explain your ideas and theories,” Lord Gustus continued. “No one in a hundred miles could possibly afford the extravagant costs of this project.”