Machinist of Mana

While my grandfather had been thrilled with our model's success my parents honestly didn't see the point o it. Flying with magic was possible, and if you really, really wanted you could make a basic flying object. Well, flying magical tools tended to be terrible, and drink mana like a sponge drank water if you wanted them to do anything, but they were possible.

I'd even taken time to ask around as to why most of the wizards didn't bother learning to fly. The answer I received was that it was simply hard. There was so much going into each and every movement while flying that it was considered a mark of a really skilled magus to be able to fly.

“I'm not sure I see the big deal son, you've made flying toys before,” mother said when I informed her of our success.

“I've made gliding toys before, and never one like this. Except for the engine that was a full working model, it should size up perfectly into an actual craft!” It was hard to be exasperated when I was in such a good mood, but I would certainly try.

At first I didn't realize I'd slipped up, until I saw her eyes narrow. She knew me well, too well, and she clearly had gotten an inkling of what I was thinking.

“You are not building one to strap yourself into Percival,” she declared with a sharp tone.

“Of course not,” I agreed. “I don't have the skills to build such a thing, and where would I even do so at? It will take three or four specialists months for even the first iteration.”

“Will? Not would? I see I may have to have a... conversation, with your grandfather.” Beating, she clearly meant a beating. Sorry old man, I may have caused you more trouble than I thought.

“At any rate,” I said, quickly changing the subject. “Is the house in Exion ready? I'll be staying there for a few days right? You indicated that to be so since the school's there anyway.”

She frowned. “Of course son, I got a letter from the housekeeper just today and everything's in order. Are you sure you don't want me to join you for the trip?”

“Mother, I've made the trip a dozen times, I'll be fine,” I insisted I also had other reasons to want to go there, reasons that I knew would cause problems if others knew of them.

“Fine, now off with you. I've got to prepare for dinner, and you should too,” she said as she shooed me from the room.

On my way to my room I saw Mrs. Lutte. She'd long ago stopped being my nurse, but still worked for us now as one of the many staff of the house. It was clear that I favored her, and father insisted she both stay and be given a cushy job, even if he avoided her. There'd been no more little half-siblings after the one, and I got the feeling that there never would be. It seemed someone, most likely my paternal grandparents, had given him something to think about.

She looked up when I passed by as if she wanted to speak to me, so even though she didn't raise her voice I stopped.

“Did you need something Mrs. Lutte?” I asked.

“Ah, I have a small request my lord, if you don't mind,” she said nervously. It wasn't unheard of for people to ask for things, but hardly ever to me.

“Please tell me,” I answered. It was important not to agree to anything before hearing it, but I'd known her for years, been with her since I was a babe. If there was anything within reason that I could do for her, I probably would.

“Could you send me a letter about the house in Exion sir? How things are going there?” She looked like she wanted to say more, and more specific things, but I understood loud and clear.

There was no reason for me to hide the soft smile on my face, so I didn't. “Of course Mrs. Lutte I'll be happy to.”

The next morning was, as all mornings of trips tended to be, hectic. Something somewhere had gotten screwed up and mother was on a rampage, leaving my father and me in the entryway while she went to solve problems and knock heads. It had been quite awhile, and I really pitied whoever had erred.

My father bounced on his feet a bit before pulling out a small pocket-watch to check the time. Under his other arm was a rather plain box a few feet long. He looked out of place here, waiting, awkward.

“So, your mother said you and your grandfather made a flying toy? Quite impressive magic that,” he said, sounding as if he didn't know what to talk to me about.

“Oh it wasn't really the magic that was important father. It's a machine, it should work even without any.”

That surprised him. “That's quite a bit more impressive then. You'll have to show me some time.”

“I'll be happy to,” I agreed, smiling.

My father was, distant, but it was clear that he really just didn't know how to relate to people. There were times when we ended up talking, and though he had almost nothing to do with me on a daily basis it was certain that he cared, or at least made an attempt.

“Well, I was going to wait until we got to the train station, but with your mother running so late better to now.” With that said he offered out the box to me.

Curious I opened it. Inside was a cane, not unlike the one my grandfather and so many other men carried. It was long and sleek, with a black wooden finish. The handle was simple, but appeared to be inlaid with silver, leading down to a clear seam between it and the wooden bit.

With care I pulled it out, the handle felt... like it was meant to be gripped a different way too, sensing the meaning I grabbed it like one would a weapon, and pulled gently. It didn't come loose, but I could feel it, almost as if it were a magical item. With a guess I pushed a tiny amount of my mana into the handle, and it loosed, coming apart.

“A sword,” I said as the blade slid out, small barely glowing runes adorning it's surface.

“One not everyone will be able to use. Designed the enchantments myself, sharpness and durability, it'll also never rust, get dirty, or dull. Good basic things, foundational bits tend to be the best anyway for everyday use.” He smiled, one of the few times he'd ever done so with me.

“Thank you,” I said. “I'll keep it with me for protection.”

“I... don't really do well with people son. Stay safe though, Exion is a big place and I would hate for something to happen to you. I know you're a good fencer, so, use it if you must, and try not to get into too much trouble.”

We shared a sort of stiff hug.

“I'll try,” I said, to which he only nodded. Even if he was a bit distant there was no way he didn't know about at least some of my predilections.

Mother chose that moment to rush in, looking at both of us and the weapon in my hands.

“You already gave it to him?” she huffed. “Fine, it doesn't matter, we need to go or we'll be late. Shame there are no gates around here, or we wouldn't need to go through all this nonsense.”

She rushed the two of us to the carriage, as if we were the ones who'd taken so long. School would be fun, but I sure would miss moments like these.