The next few days passed in the blink of an eye. The construction of the Gondola began with only some minor hiccups. Three identical keels had been built simultaneously in the dry docks, each of them around a dozen steps in length. This had only been possible thanks to the toil of the two Nature Mages, their command over wood a thing of beauty.
The smooth operation of the workshop could almost solely be attributed to Jettero’s efforts. He was a harsh taskmaster in one moment, and a patient listener in the next. Somehow, the old man seemed to have a mysterious acuity for when to employ which.
But despite the sage guidance, some problems were unavoidable. First and foremost among them was the outflow of personnel. Zeke had prepared himself mentally, but it still stung every time he saw someone leaving the estate, never to return.
There were different motivations for why people resigned. Some of them had legitimate reasons. Most, however, left because they saw the von Hohenheim household as a sinking ship. It had always been his plan to use this ordeal as a test for the members, a trial by fire of sorts. Still, it was painful to realize how few truly stood with him.
Out of the 684 people he had brought from the empire, only half remained. Among the roughly 350 remaining staff members, almost 200 were sailors from the Alexandria. To Zeke’s utter astonishment, only a single member of the ship’s crew left. And even that man didn’t leave out of spite: he had fallen in love with a merchant’s daughter and was planning to work for her father.
Aside from the crew, the majority of the people who stayed were comprised of veterans. Maximilian had hired many of them after they had been discharged. Zeke had heard many of their stories over the last month. It didn’t surprise him at all to learn that most of them had been dismissed for crossing a peer from a superior noble family.
Zeke discovered quickly that the concept of loyalty had a completely different meaning to these people. He had never had a good impression of the military as an institution, but even he had to admit that professional soldiers were cut from a different cloth. Discipline, loyalty, and duty were the core tenants taught in the imperial army and it showed, as not a single one of them left his service.
When all was said and done, a lot of adjustments had to be made due to their dwindling numbers. Not all of them were bad, though, as change brought opportunity as well. Mia had managed to fill several key positions with more qualified replacements. Well-educated staff, Mages especially, were much cheaper to hire in Tradespire. Zeke was certain that many who left already regretted their choice, now that their salaries were far lower.
Mages in general had a much lower standing here compared to the empire. Zeke would never suggest that the Merchants Union was a pure meritocracy, far from it. But it was much more feasible for somebody without a core to succeed. Whereas the empire was overly fixated on personal power, here, gold was king.
An unfortunate circumstance, as Zeke’s finances were looking sparse. After constructing the workshop, buying materials, ordering enchantments, and paying wages, there was almost nothing left. Even if the Goldfinger company did nothing, the von Hohenheim household would be finished if the Gondola project failed — all the more important that today went well.
“Did you prepare yourself?” Jettero asked. The two of them had just finished their usual morning inspection of the workshop and were on their way to meet Mia and David.
Zeke smiled. He had been looking forward to this day ever since the appointment had been confirmed. Today, he would finally get to observe an artisan craft a top-tier enchantment. In preparation for this event, Zeke had been spending his time studying every text on enchanting he could get his hands on. It didn’t matter if it was magical or mundane techniques — all were devoured equally by his ferocious appetite for knowledge.
By now, Zeke considered himself a genuine expert on Enchanting. He wouldn’t be afraid to go toe to toe with any grandmaster — when it came to theory. Despite his extensive knowledge, Zeke had never crafted anything. It was the same with his Magical Engineering: he also had never even created a single trinket himself.
That would all change after today. He was finally ready to take his first step into the world of arcane crafting.
“Never been better prepared for anything in my life,” Zeke responded.
His steps were so swift that the old man had trouble keeping up. They reached the office in no time at all. Zeke knocked on the door thrice before entering. Upon stepping into the room, his sight was captured by the figure of his mother furiously scribbling on a paper. A mountain of paper was still waiting to be processed with two equally large piles crowding the nearby surfaces.
Zeke gulped at the sight. He had felt pity for his mother at first but soon discovered the fervor with which she devoured paperwork. Mia was single-handedly waging war against the endless tide of contracts, receipts, and complaints, and he couldn’t be more grateful for it. Thanks to his [Perfect Sensory Recall], Zeke had lost the need to document anything in writing, making the paperwork a type of torture for him.
Looking over her shoulder was David, nodding approvingly from time to time. When they had started, he would watch her every move like a hawk. At first, he had to point out multiple mistakes on each page. Nowadays, his main duty seemed to be moral support.
Mia stayed on task even after Zeke entered. This didn’t bother him one bit; he was content to watch his mother work for a while. Her writing had improved so much that it was hard to believe that she had only been doing this for a little over a week. Her mechanical pen danced as she composed a scathing response to a merchant who had demanded extra pay for his delivery. Zeke winced at his mother’s harsh language when he saw that she had called the man a ‘disposable bottom-layer clown’.
A smile emerged on his face as he remembered how the scene in front of him had come to be. On her first day, Mia had insisted against David’s better judgment that this was no way to treat other people. When the butler got tired of arguing, he allowed her to do as she pleased, with the one condition that she would handle the aftermath herself.
Mia had been ecstatic and immediately agreed. She threw herself into the task with gusto, writing letter after letter. Each word and sentence was politer than the last. Most of the time, she would suggest compromising even when the other party had no leg to stand on. She had gone to bed that night with a warm feeling in her chest, secure in the belief that she had made the world a better place.
The very next day, retribution had arrived. Like a horde of hungry goblins, the merchants struck. They had identified her as prey and were determined to extract their pound of flesh. A veritable mountain of correspondence crowded her desk, not even leaving enough space to sit. Wordlessly, she had opened the first letter, then the next, and the next. For about an hour, Mia silently read every single letter.
After putting down the last one, she stared at the pile for a good while — her thoughts a mystery. Records show that this was the very moment a legend was born. Wielding the pen like a knife, the Letter-Demon of Tradespire made its first appearance that day.
“Did you hear me?” Mia asked loudly, snapping Zeke out of his reverie.
“Sorry, Mom. What did you say?”
“I said that I have prepared the gold. David has it,” Mia explained one more time.
“Thanks!” Zeke responded with a flattering smile. “I don’t know what I would do without you.”
Mia rolled her eyes. “If you care, stop spending your gold so frivolously. We’re not made out of money.”
“Don’t worry! This will be worth it,” Zeke vowed earnestly.
A smile broke out on Mia’s face right away. She had never been good at being stern with him. “I’ll leave it to you then, love,” was all she said.
After a brief goodbye, Zeke and David found themselves outside the gate of the estate, where a transporter was already waiting for them. The enchanter’s workshop was located in the fourth layer, near Jettero’s old home. Their destination wasn’t that far, but Zeke considered this to be a great opportunity to examine one of the current transporters in action. Despite his abundant research, he had never actually been onboard one of them. For his project’s sake, Zeke hoped for this to be a terrible experience.
A smile spread across his face at the sight of the upside-down turtle shell that was parked outside their gate. The monstrosity was almost 30 steps long and looked like it was geared for war. A wooden plank extended from the ship, allowing a rudimentary way to access the craft. After boarding, Zeke inspected the giant mast at the center of the deck with a derisive sneer on his face.
The sails on an airship like the Alexandria were used to increase speed and unburden the crew when the wind was favorable. This was a valuable feature for long-distance travel. On a short-distance transporter like this, they were next to useless. The crew seemed to also be aware of this fact, as they hadn’t even untied the sails, let alone hoisted them.
David handed a few gold coins to the captain and informed him of their destination. Meanwhile, Zeke wandered the deck, using his [Perfect Spatial Awareness] to observe the craft in action. Aside from the captain, all 12 members of the crew were True Mages. They all seemed to be middle-aged at least. This was a good indicator that their affinities were most likely abysmally low.
“On your posts, maggots!” the captain roared.
The idle crew snapped into action. They each strapped themselves into a bolted-down chair; ten at the center of the deck and two on each side of the prow. The centrally located sailors started pouring unattuned Mana into the conductors in front of them. They visibly strained under the effort, a testament to their poor skills in mana control.
With great interest, Zeke followed the flow of Mana to its destination. He could perceive the ten streams of mana converging below deck. The thick band of mana was again split into dozens of smaller strands, each powering a single levitation enchantment. It wasn’t long before the results started to show.
With a creaking groan, the ship opposed the earth's pull. Slowly, they gained height. It was now up to the captain to power the gust enchantments at the stern for thrust. As the only Grand Mage, he effortlessly powered the eight runes behind him. He was able to directly pour his Mana into the steering wheel, which doubled as a conductor.
“Starboard, half circle!” the man yelled as they slowly started to move.
With great interest, Zeke observed as one of the two who had taken a seat at the front of the ship started to power a trio of enchantments at the side of the bow. Ever so slowly, the ship started to turn in the opposite direction. The man only fueled the enchantment for a few beats, causing it to slowly lose momentum during the maneuver. Miraculously, the ship spun halfway and no further.
During the rest of the trip, Zeke observed the conduct of the crew and captain. He had been right; the vessel was operated exactly like a full-sized airship, minus the sails. Furthermore, Zeke hypothesized that only the captain and the two men steering were actual sailors. The rest of the men gave Zeke the impression of down on their luck Mages who needed the money. They were used as Mana batteries, nothing else. Their presence was only necessary because of the inefficient construction of the ship.
The flight lasted only a couple of minutes, but it had been enough. A broadly grinning Zeke descended the transporter a short while later. His mood was excellent as he arrived at his destination on the fourth layer. Because of the size of the vessel, they had been forced to land a little ways off, but the inconvenience only made Zeke happier. The smile did not leave his face during the short march to the enchanter’s workshop.
Only when Zeke and David arrived in front of the door did his expression turn solemn.
“Here we go,” He said as he entered the reception area.
The next few days passed in the blink of an eye. The construction of the Gondola began with only some minor hiccups. Three identical keels had been built simultaneously in the dry docks, each of them around a dozen steps in length. This had only been possible thanks to the toil of the two Nature Mages, their command over wood a thing of beauty.
The smooth operation of the workshop could almost solely be attributed to Jettero’s efforts. He was a harsh taskmaster in one moment, and a patient listener in the next. Somehow, the old man seemed to have a mysterious acuity for when to employ which.
But despite the sage guidance, some problems were unavoidable. First and foremost among them was the outflow of personnel. Zeke had prepared himself mentally, but it still stung every time he saw someone leaving the estate, never to return.
There were different motivations for why people resigned. Some of them had legitimate reasons. Most, however, left because they saw the von Hohenheim household as a sinking ship. It had always been his plan to use this ordeal as a test for the members, a trial by fire of sorts. Still, it was painful to realize how few truly stood with him.
Out of the 684 people he had brought from the empire, only half remained. Among the roughly 350 remaining staff members, almost 200 were sailors from the Alexandria. To Zeke’s utter astonishment, only a single member of the ship’s crew left. And even that man didn’t leave out of spite: he had fallen in love with a merchant’s daughter and was planning to work for her father.
Aside from the crew, the majority of the people who stayed were comprised of veterans. Maximilian had hired many of them after they had been discharged. Zeke had heard many of their stories over the last month. It didn’t surprise him at all to learn that most of them had been dismissed for crossing a peer from a superior noble family.
Zeke discovered quickly that the concept of loyalty had a completely different meaning to these people. He had never had a good impression of the military as an institution, but even he had to admit that professional soldiers were cut from a different cloth. Discipline, loyalty, and duty were the core tenants taught in the imperial army and it showed, as not a single one of them left his service.
When all was said and done, a lot of adjustments had to be made due to their dwindling numbers. Not all of them were bad, though, as change brought opportunity as well. Mia had managed to fill several key positions with more qualified replacements. Well-educated staff, Mages especially, were much cheaper to hire in Tradespire. Zeke was certain that many who left already regretted their choice, now that their salaries were far lower.
Mages in general had a much lower standing here compared to the empire. Zeke would never suggest that the Merchants Union was a pure meritocracy, far from it. But it was much more feasible for somebody without a core to succeed. Whereas the empire was overly fixated on personal power, here, gold was king.
An unfortunate circumstance, as Zeke’s finances were looking sparse. After constructing the workshop, buying materials, ordering enchantments, and paying wages, there was almost nothing left. Even if the Goldfinger company did nothing, the von Hohenheim household would be finished if the Gondola project failed — all the more important that today went well.
“Did you prepare yourself?” Jettero asked. The two of them had just finished their usual morning inspection of the workshop and were on their way to meet Mia and David.
Zeke smiled. He had been looking forward to this day ever since the appointment had been confirmed. Today, he would finally get to observe an artisan craft a top-tier enchantment. In preparation for this event, Zeke had been spending his time studying every text on enchanting he could get his hands on. It didn’t matter if it was magical or mundane techniques — all were devoured equally by his ferocious appetite for knowledge.
By now, Zeke considered himself a genuine expert on Enchanting. He wouldn’t be afraid to go toe to toe with any grandmaster — when it came to theory. Despite his extensive knowledge, Zeke had never crafted anything. It was the same with his Magical Engineering: he also had never even created a single trinket himself.
That would all change after today. He was finally ready to take his first step into the world of arcane crafting.
“Never been better prepared for anything in my life,” Zeke responded.
His steps were so swift that the old man had trouble keeping up. They reached the office in no time at all. Zeke knocked on the door thrice before entering. Upon stepping into the room, his sight was captured by the figure of his mother furiously scribbling on a paper. A mountain of paper was still waiting to be processed with two equally large piles crowding the nearby surfaces.
Zeke gulped at the sight. He had felt pity for his mother at first but soon discovered the fervor with which she devoured paperwork. Mia was single-handedly waging war against the endless tide of contracts, receipts, and complaints, and he couldn’t be more grateful for it. Thanks to his [Perfect Sensory Recall], Zeke had lost the need to document anything in writing, making the paperwork a type of torture for him.
Looking over her shoulder was David, nodding approvingly from time to time. When they had started, he would watch her every move like a hawk. At first, he had to point out multiple mistakes on each page. Nowadays, his main duty seemed to be moral support.
Mia stayed on task even after Zeke entered. This didn’t bother him one bit; he was content to watch his mother work for a while. Her writing had improved so much that it was hard to believe that she had only been doing this for a little over a week. Her mechanical pen danced as she composed a scathing response to a merchant who had demanded extra pay for his delivery. Zeke winced at his mother’s harsh language when he saw that she had called the man a ‘disposable bottom-layer clown’.
A smile emerged on his face as he remembered how the scene in front of him had come to be. On her first day, Mia had insisted against David’s better judgment that this was no way to treat other people. When the butler got tired of arguing, he allowed her to do as she pleased, with the one condition that she would handle the aftermath herself.
Mia had been ecstatic and immediately agreed. She threw herself into the task with gusto, writing letter after letter. Each word and sentence was politer than the last. Most of the time, she would suggest compromising even when the other party had no leg to stand on. She had gone to bed that night with a warm feeling in her chest, secure in the belief that she had made the world a better place.
The very next day, retribution had arrived. Like a horde of hungry goblins, the merchants struck. They had identified her as prey and were determined to extract their pound of flesh. A veritable mountain of correspondence crowded her desk, not even leaving enough space to sit. Wordlessly, she had opened the first letter, then the next, and the next. For about an hour, Mia silently read every single letter.
After putting down the last one, she stared at the pile for a good while — her thoughts a mystery. Records show that this was the very moment a legend was born. Wielding the pen like a knife, the Letter-Demon of Tradespire made its first appearance that day.
“Did you hear me?” Mia asked loudly, snapping Zeke out of his reverie.
“Sorry, Mom. What did you say?”
“I said that I have prepared the gold. David has it,” Mia explained one more time.
“Thanks!” Zeke responded with a flattering smile. “I don’t know what I would do without you.”
Mia rolled her eyes. “If you care, stop spending your gold so frivolously. We’re not made out of money.”
“Don’t worry! This will be worth it,” Zeke vowed earnestly.
A smile broke out on Mia’s face right away. She had never been good at being stern with him. “I’ll leave it to you then, love,” was all she said.
After a brief goodbye, Zeke and David found themselves outside the gate of the estate, where a transporter was already waiting for them. The enchanter’s workshop was located in the fourth layer, near Jettero’s old home. Their destination wasn’t that far, but Zeke considered this to be a great opportunity to examine one of the current transporters in action. Despite his abundant research, he had never actually been onboard one of them. For his project’s sake, Zeke hoped for this to be a terrible experience.
A smile spread across his face at the sight of the upside-down turtle shell that was parked outside their gate. The monstrosity was almost 30 steps long and looked like it was geared for war. A wooden plank extended from the ship, allowing a rudimentary way to access the craft. After boarding, Zeke inspected the giant mast at the center of the deck with a derisive sneer on his face.
The sails on an airship like the Alexandria were used to increase speed and unburden the crew when the wind was favorable. This was a valuable feature for long-distance travel. On a short-distance transporter like this, they were next to useless. The crew seemed to also be aware of this fact, as they hadn’t even untied the sails, let alone hoisted them.
David handed a few gold coins to the captain and informed him of their destination. Meanwhile, Zeke wandered the deck, using his [Perfect Spatial Awareness] to observe the craft in action. Aside from the captain, all 12 members of the crew were True Mages. They all seemed to be middle-aged at least. This was a good indicator that their affinities were most likely abysmally low.
“On your posts, maggots!” the captain roared.
The idle crew snapped into action. They each strapped themselves into a bolted-down chair; ten at the center of the deck and two on each side of the prow. The centrally located sailors started pouring unattuned Mana into the conductors in front of them. They visibly strained under the effort, a testament to their poor skills in mana control.
With great interest, Zeke followed the flow of Mana to its destination. He could perceive the ten streams of mana converging below deck. The thick band of mana was again split into dozens of smaller strands, each powering a single levitation enchantment. It wasn’t long before the results started to show.
With a creaking groan, the ship opposed the earth's pull. Slowly, they gained height. It was now up to the captain to power the gust enchantments at the stern for thrust. As the only Grand Mage, he effortlessly powered the eight runes behind him. He was able to directly pour his Mana into the steering wheel, which doubled as a conductor.
“Starboard, half circle!” the man yelled as they slowly started to move.
With great interest, Zeke observed as one of the two who had taken a seat at the front of the ship started to power a trio of enchantments at the side of the bow. Ever so slowly, the ship started to turn in the opposite direction. The man only fueled the enchantment for a few beats, causing it to slowly lose momentum during the maneuver. Miraculously, the ship spun halfway and no further.
During the rest of the trip, Zeke observed the conduct of the crew and captain. He had been right; the vessel was operated exactly like a full-sized airship, minus the sails. Furthermore, Zeke hypothesized that only the captain and the two men steering were actual sailors. The rest of the men gave Zeke the impression of down on their luck Mages who needed the money. They were used as Mana batteries, nothing else. Their presence was only necessary because of the inefficient construction of the ship.
The flight lasted only a couple of minutes, but it had been enough. A broadly grinning Zeke descended the transporter a short while later. His mood was excellent as he arrived at his destination on the fourth layer. Because of the size of the vessel, they had been forced to land a little ways off, but the inconvenience only made Zeke happier. The smile did not leave his face during the short march to the enchanter’s workshop.
Only when Zeke and David arrived in front of the door did his expression turn solemn.
“Here we go,” He said as he entered the reception area.
