It was uneventful, the day we took off. Shockingly so.
We headed in the direction Katerine had started off in, finding a large teleportation circle in the middle of the ground someplace like the arena Kitri had taken me to when he gave me back my magic, one with battling dragons made from the laid out cobblestones. The cobblestones were dull beige and blueberry blue, faded as they were shaping the ring on the ground.
Katerine activated it the moment she set foot, excluding me from the jump.
I glared when, in a flash of light that reached the heavens, her body disappeared. Looks like you have to touch the circle physically, not just stand in the airspace, if you want to teleport.
Grinding my teeth with an agitated, frustrated grin, I pulled up my [Radar] and saw that Katerine was already at our destination.
"Well then," I clicked my tongue, looking around at the sky and taking another very deep breath, "if that's how you want to play it."
I teleported directly behind Katerine in an instant. So worth the hundred MPs that I just wasted.
I tapped her on the shoulder, a loose, pleasant smile on my face as she turned around in shock.
Her eyes flashed in alarm, but she quickly regained her composure just so that I wouldn't have the luxury of having shocked her.
I would never understand why this girl hates me, didn't want to really. Haters gonna hate, and there ain't nothing you can do about it except wait for them to stop hating.
"..." She started walking. I floated right behind her, whistling to myself an old song from Earth that she obviously didn't recognize, "Tom's Diner."
It was in English of course. I was whispering it to myself casually as I went through the bustling city with her, leaving the teleportation circle with its stone walls and guards. There were all kinds of shops around, all sorts of people going by. Dwarves, elves, Fae of all kind. It was endless, in the ages and the descriptions of every person that passed by me on the street. Not a single one found it odd that this fourteen year old looking girl was hovering along behind an older woman with similar features, looking like a bored good-for-nothing with the easiest position in life. After all, there were quite a few just like me, worse even.
I didn't mean to give off that type of impression, it just happened. My clothes were the normal brown pants and white shirt, both tied in front, and my hair was in a loose ponytail that went all the way to the base of my spine. It was unruly, more wavy with a few random big curls than straight, like Lucia's and Katerine's. It had passed down from Fang, probably, because of his mane. Mother had untamable hair, which had proven disastrous when it came to cleaning up for parties.
I looked just like Mother right now, with a whole lot of Father in my stature.
Stars, I miss th-
No. I miss no one. Missing them would only burden them, after all. Burden me.
Katerine didn't say a word as we started going for a building with the least clanging coming out of it, a medium sized shop with a sign hanging out front with an empty spool on it.
Uh...I thought we were going to a place known for "metallurgy" as Sherfire said earlier? Not yarn?
The display windows were practically bare of advertising products, just showing the inside of the empty shop.
I didn't say a word, however, as she marched up the steps and pushed through the door. I followed, catching the door as it almost hit me. Disregarding that, I went on with her into the single rectangular room with only two doors: the one we just came through, and the one in the back directly in front of us, behind a counter. Like the inside of a bank vault, there were caches lining the wooden walls from top to bottom, with little labels on them saying things like "orichalcum chain links," "mithril bindings," "adamantine twine," and many others.
Oh my Stars, I've officially reached the end of the otome game. For sure, this is an OP protagonist, adventurer/hero story.
No longer is the plot about love and yandere females when you involve "gold tweezers."
We approached the other end of the bare room, stopping in front of the old oak desk. There was a Dwarf on the other side of the desk, one that looked like he should be turning over in the grave instead of attending this old place.
"I'm looking for Mr. Bhemus," Katerine said in her usual uncaring voice. Unassuming, more like it.
"Master Bhemus is out for today," the old Dwarf heaved, his voice barely coming out in nothing more than a dry whisper. His eyes were closed, like he was blind, and there was a cane off to the side. His red and white clothes were ordinary, his hair a shock of white along with the constant, wavy beard on his face.
He looked like a mini Santa Claus.
"We're here for my father, Tear Fang of Fangre, Kera. Can you please tell me when Mr. Bhemus will be in?" Katerine persisted, not moving an inch. Her dark blue eyes were adamant.
"I will tell Master Bhemus as such," he breathlessly whispered again. "Please come back tomorrow."
"Please also tell him that it was Katerine Fang who sent for him. I will be back tomorrow, first thing in the morning."
She turned and marched for the door, not waiting up for me.
I let her go. I'd find her later, she looked like she needed some alone time. Actually, she always needed some alone time.
I turned back to the old man, who was still in the same place.
"You're Mr. Bhemus, aren't you?" I asked, hands in my pockets as I floated there. "I don't mean to be rude, but you can't fool my eyes."
More like, you can't fool the giant blue nameplate that was floating above your head like a beacon, pointing down at you and only you. Gotta love game features sometimes...
I turned that feature on solely for this moment. I turned a lot of the features off because it made this feel like it wasn't reality, even though it was. You have to take everything in stride, not cheating every which way.
The old man's mouth opened, and then closed again. A moment later, he smiled.
His bushy white eyebrows rose from over his closed eyes, looking like he was waking up as they opened to reveal crystal blue irises behind the old silver spectacles on his face.
"How'd you know?" He asked in a much stronger voice, looking more lively than the shell of a man he'd been acting as before.
"It's not that hard. I mean, you're the only life form in this building, and even the forge below us is 'empty' even though the ovens are running. Why would the owner leave the building with the risk of it burning down?"
I landed on the floor, tapping my feet. It was really hot, even though there were too many chimneys poking out of the roof to begin with. None of them even went through the roof, but there was no connection to the workshop down below. That's probably what threw most people off.
"Most people think I simply have a son, or a grandson that works the forge," the old man stood up from the chair, revealing that he was half my transformed height. He opened a side door to behind the counter, letting me through. Then, he went to the door and and opened it. Steps leading down to a basement appeared. "They are only partially correct, for there is more than one Mr. Bhemus."
The moment he opened the door, the sound of multiple hammers clanging ricocheted out from below, the sound of many voices reached my ears, yelling and instructing. The hissing of boiling water and whooshing of fires, the crackling of embers and the rustle of wind.
When we descended down into the room, I found it was more than just a room. It was a wide place, as big as the castle ballroom but with way less people. There were giant tear drops that connected with the ground, fires baking inside of them as they were melded with the ground and the ceiling, disappearing someplace. Dwarves were running around everywhere, muscled ones and those with all sorts of documents in their hands as they worked with metals, fittings, and all sorts of things.
"Pocket dimension?" I asked myself, looking around. The people around didn't bother to look at me, didn't look at the old man. We were just strolling down the center aisle, heading on back.
"Almost. It's similar to an inter-spacial storage, the room is condensed to fit down in here. Come, this way. We must find both of my grandfathers."
I almost sputtered in my next words that he had a grandfather, the fact that both of them were still alive shocking me more, since he seemed to be as ancient as time immemorial.
"I thought you were Mr. Bhemus...how many are there?" I shook my head in wonder.
"Oh, two hundred forty or so. My great-great-great-great grandchildren are around town somewhere, but in here are only my great-great-great grandchildren, my great-great grandchildren, my great grandchildren, and my grandchildren. Also, my five sons and my father. His brothers as well. How did I forget about my brothers..."
Oh dear Stars...
"Oh, and I can't forget my sisters, aunts, and grandmothers. They are the ones that take our products and reforge them if they aren't suiting to the eye, for more of a decorative purpose. Things can't always be just bland metal, and you can endow it with spells and the like. Some of the best casters in the kingdom, they are," he nodded to himself, rattling on about everything as we strode passed people, all covered in soot as they tended the fires or hammered away at different things. Some were forging swords, some axes; others were attending to some more menial objects, like silverware and goblets.
At the end of the room lit red from fire, we reached a younger man. A pair of younger men, with black beards with not a speck of gray or white, with muscles on muscles and stern features that showed they were at the peak of their lives.
"Ah, Mr. Bhemus," one of the men, one with green eyes and not blue like the other, turned to the Bhemus I was with. "Have you brought a worthy costumer?"
"Yes, Mr. Bhemus," my Bhemus replied. "She was with Tear Fang's daughter. A rude one, no doubt."
"My grandson...who is this then? She looks fairly like Mrs. Lucia Ardvark, but I'm sure she only had two girls," the blue eyed Mr. Bhemus narrowed his eyes and stroked his beard.
"Oh, I'm the daughter of Anastasia, granddaughter of Tear Fang," I introduced myself, bowing slightly at the waist as I tapped my feet on the ground, looking at them.
"Firea-Madeline de Libellule, is it?" One of them asked me, starting to stroke his beard. "I thought she was six years old."
"But she's a magic prodigy, last I heard," one of them looked at me, seeing that I was clearly a teenager right now.
"Oh, I am," I released the transformation magic and my six year old self appeared again next to Mr. Bhemus. My ponytail was much lighter now, and my clothes were smaller, all in that brief flash of gold light. "I was just in that form because it's easier to move around in."
All Bhemuses in the surroundings were quiet.
"Is something wrong?" I asked, looking at them all. Even some of the ones that were working on things nearby stopped making noise, eyes drawn to the golden light.
"No, it's just..." Mr. Bhemus answered, while all the others shook their heads, "We've never seen such fine transformation magic. And from such a young girl...how did you..."
"It's simple magic," I shrugged. "I didn't do anything special. Now, as for the reason I'm here, can I request something?"
"Ahem," one of them blinked a bunch of times, shaking out of a stupor and saying, "you came for Tear Fang, yes?"
"Yes," I fished a hand into my storage and pulled out the letter. "He said to give this to 'Bhemus' after finding his shop, but..." I looked around at all of the almost identical Dwarves looking at me. "I don't know which one."
"It should be me, I would think," another Dwarf walked up from behind, wiping his hands of soot. There were goggles on his head that were blackened, and his clothes looked like someone had been trying to pull him down to hell with how many long finger marks there were. He held out a hand to me from behind his youthful beard, one that made him look like he was only in his twenties. "Smith Bhemus, pleased to make your acquaintance."
"My great grandfather," the oldest Bhemus said.
It's like...the older they are, the younger they look. Then what about the great-great-great-great grandchildren...
I was kind of afraid to wonder now.
"Here's my assistant, my five greats grandchild, Jose Bhemus," Smith Bhemus clapped a hand on the shoulder of another young'un that came up behind him, one that looked very youthful.
I guess my concerns were unfounded.
"May I see the letter?" Smith asked.
I handed it to him, and he opened it and read the contents. I couldn't see them...because it looked like there was nothing on the page.
Seeing me frowning at that, young Jose came up to my side and said, "It's another Dwarf craft, where the only one who can read the letter is a specifically chosen person. To others, it's just a blank piece of paper."
"Hou," I mused, stroking my chin. I had no beard, so it must've looked odd to be copying their actions. "Is it a special magic, paper, ink...?"
"That's a secret," he shrugged, looking at me. He was the same height now, since I released my transformation. When I peeked at his Status very quickly, I saw that he was really only...78 years old. Fairly young, for a Dwarf. I think they have very long life spans, somewhere around eight hundred to eleven hundred years. The oldest guy, the king of the Dwarves that I saw in the World Council that one time, was quite up there. No one but the few there and some hidden ones could compare. "We wouldn't be able to monopolize the sales if everyone knew."
"Then if I just happened to figure it out on my own and didn't sell it, I'd be fine right?" I folded my arms and looked at him. "I'd use it personally."
"It's on us if you figure it out," he had on a smile under his beard now. Stars, he'd be so charming if he just lost the beard...
"Alright then," I looked over to the parchment where Smith was reading, and my senses heightened all of a sudden as I examined the paper free of its packaging. My eyes were most likely slits, focusing on every little part and gazing at the strands that had been woven together at a minuscule level, the ink on the paper that I just happened to not be able to see...
Oh. I just remembered something.
Back when I was debuting as Knight, I found that pirate ship. In it, I found the magic that was left over the cargo hold, with that special spell over it: [No Way In, No Way Out]. I had tried my hand at that type of magic and found it to be stronger, but it grew to be tedious after a while so I stopped.
"[Eye of the Beholder]," I chanted.
My eyes were not just focused now, but also seeing on another level. Something like yellow goggles appeared on my face, which made me blink and grab at them. They barely had any substance, balancing on tangibility and intangibility. The big, circular lenses were round and faintly there, so when I tapped a fingernail on them it made a noise. There was a headband around it that gently pressed against my head, holding them in place. I probably looked like a dork, since they reminded me of aviator goggles mashed together with a point-dexter's 1960's taste, but I didn't care.
I didn't pay attention to the people looking at me, gaping actually, as I turned around and around looking everywhere. I could, I think, see the mana essence of everything here. I could pick apart the minute differences between the colors of mana, guessing at the substances. I could see that this space was an extension to the world, that the smoke stacks and chimneys reached to the surface and directly connected with the clustered ones poking out of the small roof of the shop outside. I could see through the walls, which were mere films of brown and gray of the wood and stone to see outside. The ground was all around, the dirt being a different shade of brown yet very similar. It just looked like a bunch of little particles, little pixels that were so close together that they were only separated by space, so small a space that it was ridiculous. With the addition of my Dragon sight and these goggles, I could see the inner workings of everything. The contents, substances, the essence.
How did I not see the value, the importance of this magic before? This is-
"-awesome," I whispered to myself, looking straight up. I could see people there, their clothes and shoes and items and money and stalls and their souls-
"Gaze of Berdine," someone muttered.
I didn't pay attention as my eyes rounded back to the parchment, which was hanging limply by Smith's side.
Oh, that's right...I was going to inspect that parchment before.
Almost like an encyclopedia was stuck in my brain, the different colors on the paper suddenly had names. They were popping up like in a game, a whole bunch of little stray squares with names in them that broke down each thing I said into even more specific things. "Fronds of Petoni, ink of Bog Lodar's famous squids, wood from Chardrent-oh, that one's a bit rare-it's all in the ink. And the special solution...it's all in the ink. The pen, not the paper. That's the key..."
I went on another of my rants to myself, rubbing my chin with folded arms as I chewed on that.
After a few minutes, probably, of silence, I realized that everyone was quiet.
I looked up, blinking. I looked left, then right.
When I saw Jose's face, I said, "What? You said I wouldn't get in trouble if I figured it out myself."
"That's not what I had in mind."
"I'm not what anyone ever has in mind," I sighed, making the glasses fade away. "Now, pardon me but, can I bother you to ask what exactly my grandfather has requested?"
Smith cleared his throat, looking away and back at the parchment while preparing his words. The others just jerked out of it and went to discussing amongst themselves, whispering. I ignored them while Smith Bhemus told me, "He requested that we make bindings out of divine ore...strong enough to bind a god."
"Woah, really? Can you do that?" My eyes widened, and I started thinking. If I could get me some of those, or at least find me some divine ore and acquire a workshop after getting a lesson or two for a few days, my job might be much easier when it came to being Paivla's Champion. "How high in the godly ranking would they be able to bind and not be broken?"
"At least up to thirty-six, minimum. Why would he..."
Oh crap.
I know what they're for.
"That guy..." I gulped, thinking. He was planning to use them on me, for training...
"You know, you might want to make the minimum forty," I concernedly told him, thinking. I'd been able to fend off Keir when he came back stronger from his other world for a while, and my Dragon self had been able to beat him...after fifteen days. No doubt I leveled up from that. I hadn't looked at my level in a while, about three years to be exact, so I had no clue how much I was at after slaying all these Demons and battling all these gods. "I know-er, I have a general guess as to what they'll be used for. How high can you go?"
"Mademoiselle de Libellule, was it?" The blue eyed grandfather of shriveled Bhemus looked at me, his face one of unease. I nodded. "No one has made anything offensive to the gods in many millennia. It's blasphemy, and needs a high leveled craftsman to do it. Do you understand?"
"I was told to come here, which means there must be someone of high enough level. Also, as for the blasphemy thing, you don't have to be worried about that. It's not going to be used on a god," I shook my head. "As far as I know, there are no other problems."
"About the divine ore..."
"Is there a problem in acquiring it, or is it too expensive?" I asked, turning to Smith again. "Because if you need money or someone to fetch it, I'm your girl."
There were no problems, I was trying to say. There's no way I'm leaving this place in five days without what I came for.
"And time concerns...well," I looked around at the space, "I'm pretty sure I can add a few time endowments to this place to give you all the time in the world," I smiled. "Do we have a deal?"
Smith was looking me in the eyes, completely defeated. He reached up a hand, which I happily shook with my lighthearted smile.
"I'll get started right away...Jose."
"Yes?" He looked away from me, towards his many greats grandfather.
"Go to the house. Tell Gerty that we won't be back for a while. Round up the crew, tell them to have others take up their projects if you have to. We've got something more important to attend to, at the moment, but..." Smith looked at me, guesstimating how powerful I was to be able to slow down time here, "we have plenty of time to do it."
Jose went to it.
"I guess that's all for today, then?" I inquired.
"No," Smith ruffled with the envelope, "there's something in here for you."
I frowned and accepted it, unfolding the letter.
Basically, it told me that I was to stay with them the whole time and assist in any possible way...the amount of mana needed to manufacture what we wanted was quite a lot.
Indeterminable.
In the first letter I'd given to Smith Bhemus, it'd apparently been said that I will supply power to whatever is needed.
Thanks Fang. Love you too.
I'll have your horns for this...a certain someone in my mind hissed while I resisted tearing up the letter. Just because he was the one volunteering me, I didn't want to do it any longer. However, I'd literally just made the promise myself...
"Well then," I turned to the Dwarves with a smile. It must've been their imaginations that it was a bit tight. "Let's get started, shall we?"