Machinist of Mana

My grandmother and I sat across from each other at the small table, engaged in her game. Upon the table between us there was a small piece of cake, beside it two small forks. The game went thus, first she would take a small bite, only large enough to fit on the fork, then I would repeat the process. If the piece of cake should be too large and fall, it was lost, if I should display any particularly bad behavior, the whole thing was taken.

She had enough magic to stop me even if I tried to take the whole thing and shove it in my mouth, which I was often tempted to do out of spite. I hated this game, the cake was too sweet, and she always insisted upon it. I'd even tried pitching a fit to cut it short a few times, but that just made her go to other, often more frustrating things. The weird boosted chair was also uncomfortable, just one more minus to this whole endeavor.

“Mother, he is two,” my own mother said as she returned from some business elsewhere in the house. “And far too young to even understand what you want.”

“Percival understands plenty dear, now come and join us,” grandmother insisted, producing another fork from somewhere unseen.

“Seriously mother? You didn't even try this with me until I was what? Five?” mom said as she sat down, taking her turn.

“Yet he understands what I want. It's never too early to give good manners.”

I considered as grandmother took her turn. Many times I'd tried to get out of this game, and several ways, all while acting my current age. Perhaps I could take another approach. It wasn't that I didn't like grandma, though she was frustrating most of the time, but that this cake really sucked. I liked sweets, but there was nothing but sugar here. It was too much, like eating icing. So I made my gambit.

“No thank you,” I announced, leaving the utensil where it lay.

“What?” grandmother asked, stunned.

“No thank you,” I repeated.

Grandma looked like I'd smacked her, mother began to laugh, the local maid who was about to serve tea nearly dropped a dish.

“Don't... don't you want some though? It's sweet,” she prodded.

“No thank you,” I told her once more.

“Looks like he learned to turn you down,” mom said between small giggles.

“Oh, I insist Percival,” grandma tried once more.

“No thank you,” I answered once more.

“But...”

“Being rude,” I told her.

That was the crack in the dam. Grandmother was a stickler for manners, an absolute hardcore lover of procedure. I'd turned her own power against her now. Mother began to fully laugh, trying her best to hide her face behind her hand. The maid was biting her lips to try and hold it back, and when grandmother started looking around quickly turned away, red creeping up the side of her face.

Grandmother set down her fork, looking completely shell-shocked. “Well, that was unexpected,” she eventually managed.

“That was the single most adorable thing I've ever seen,” mother said, looking over at me.

“I have never known any child to turn down sweets,” the flummoxed old woman admitted.

“And you can't even fault how he did it can you?” mom asked, still smiling.

“Gloating is unbecoming,” grandmother said with a scowl.

Now it was my turn to try not to laugh, luckily before we could continue the nearest door opened. In strode one of my favorite people in this world. Grandfather Darksky had short hair, and a constant small smile. In one hand he held a small cane, which he decidedly didn't need but seemed to keep as an affectation.

“Ah there you are Percival!” he declared, enthusiastically.

“He just declined cake,” grandmother griped.

“Why of course he did dear. Tea and cakes and talking is for women, my grandson is a man of action, of magic and science! Isn't that right Percival?” he asked, tapping his cane on the floor just a bit harder than was proper to emphasize his point.

“Rightly so!” I replied, one of his favorite sayings.

“Heavens above, now there's two of them,” grandmother said with a shake of her head.

“Don't worry lad, I've come to save you from these two chittering birds,” he said as he winked at the two in question in a way he seemed to think I wouldn't catch.

“Huzzah.”

With that he scooped me up and turned. “I just got the most interesting little machine from the city the other day my boy. How would you like to see it?”

“Yes please.” Even with him I kept my words short and to the point.

Grandfather carried me through the house and into his small workroom. Unlike my own shop from Earth this one was fastidiously clean. I didn't think he actually made much in here, but rather just liked his machines, the newest was sitting on a small workbench.

Magic had long been in this world from what I could gather, but science, real science, was new. It was also all the rage in some circles, with gatherings all up and down the country of men trying to prove this or that. There was a ton of work going on in chemistry, medicine (Though much of that was just weird beliefs from old codgers), physics, and machining, which grandfather favored. The intersections of science and magic were still a bit odd to most, but it was proving fruitful.

“See here, this is an engine. Like they use in the locomotives,” grandfather said in almost a whisper.

The machine in question was indeed just that, though rendered in some kind of glass so that you could see the internals. He let me watch as heat was applied to the little boiler and the whole thing sprang to life. This was a toy here, a display for teaching or amusement, but back on Earth would have been difficult to make.

Magic supplied a number of materials that were just... well not really reasonably possible on Earth. This glass was able to hold the heat and pressure like a metal would, and might well be lighter. The fires didn't need to be the worst of coal either. They didn't know it yet, but these things meant that one day the people of this world would far eclipse those of my previous one. It wasn't there yet, but I could already see the inklings of it coming.

I wasn't allowed to be set down in this room, grandfather always keeping me in his arms, nor was I allowed to touch things. It was dangerous, so I understood, and I was still two to the outside world. There were things like engines, and lathes, and mechanical mechanisms that would happily crush small hands here, so I was kept in his arms the whole time. He did let me press some buttons on things every now and then though.

Even if I couldn't work on them, hearing the excited exuberance of my grandfather as he talked of this or that was fun. He had the spark of a hobbyist who loved what he loved, and wouldn't let anyone tell him no. Also, he made sure he understood as well as he could everything he had, and explained it to me, even if I shouldn't.

So for hours I listened as he explained every part of the engine and what it did. He also had drawings he showed me, pointing out the parts in one of the trains, and how they matched up with the little one. Together we sat there as he went on and on, the smile never leaving my face.