Music for today: Seventh Heaven - Mattia Turzo
syoutu.be/kisH5224C7k
Mid Afternoon - Late Winter - Year 24 : Ampelos | Bahamut
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- Hera Monachikós ~
*Clang... Clang... Clang...* Echoing like the rhythmic thrum of a bass string, the sound of hamrs echoed through the dark carriage. The steady heartbeat of industry and scent of glowing coals piercing its luxurious padded walls with ease.
"I apologize if the ride is uncomfortable, madam, miss," the younger butler sitting across from us spoke gently, his voice laced with concern as he noticed Krystallo's visible discomfort. "We should be arriving shortly... Could I offer either of you anything in the anti?"
But to his dismay, her anxiety wasn't from anything within his control.
"No, we're quite alright," I reassured him gently, pulling Krystallo into my side as I brushed her hair with a visibly motherly gesture. "She rely has a lot on her mind."
For a mont, I forced a smile, trying to refine the mask of a mother, but the longer I stroked her hair, the more my concern turned genuine.
No matter how much I wished her to notice it though, my gentle caress could only soothe so much...
And the mont she finally leaned into my hand, the carriage rattled like an unsettling reminder. *Cl-lunk*
Rocking over a rough patch of cobblestone, we finally reached the Production District, the Spathi family’s most prized—and guarded—sector within Ampelos, so distance from the estate. It was the heart of their rapidly expanding tallurgical research, refining, and production, the proud foundry of Ampelos, but while we were there to be guided on a simple tour of facilities according to the young butler before us, Krystallo knew it wasn't so simple.
Today, her mask was going to be tested, heated and tempered in search of even the most minor flaws. She needed to focus—to paint an image of interest and innocence in order to bait the hook I wanted to lay.
She wanted to prove she could be useful, and as such, put more pressure on herself than she needed to...
But as much as I wanted her to just be herself.. this was the path she had chosen, and if she crumbled so easily, she would never escape her brother's shadow...
So, I stayed silent.. reserving my guidance for when she truly needed it.
Though, I suppose thankfully, that mont arrived sooner than expected.
*Click-Clack* As the carriage eventually slowed to a halt, the gentle murmur of voices and footsteps surrounded us before the door of the carriage swung open to reveal an old, elegantly dressed butler greeting us with a deep, respectful bow beneath the grey hue of the cloud-blotted sky.
"Lady Hera, Miss Krystallo," his poise was practiced, but natural. "My na is Stavros. Lord Alexandros has asked to personally oversee your tour of our facilities." Finally standing up, he gave Krystallo and I each a warm yet sowhat scrutinous look before reaching up and offering a hand to help us down. "I hope the ride wasn't too.. discomforting... The roads through this area aren't as well kept as those in the heart of the city."
Gently taking his hand to reciprocate his politeness, I carefully hid most of my aura from his before turning to help Krystallo down. "It's okay. Though she hasn't seen much of the world yet, my daughter is quite sharp with matters in Bahamut."
*Tip-Tap* As Krystallo's small heels echoed against the stones, her poise rapidly stiffened, as if her nervousness was purged by her disgust of the heavy, polluted air.
"I see that." Politely backing away, he gave a gentle half bow before motioning us toward a massive iron doors with a pleased smile. "In that case, this seems like it will be a more pleasurable tour than expected. If you have questions, please do ask."
As I nodded though, my gaze drifted down the street, away from where he wanted us to go, only to be presented a scene I thought could only exist in the text of books recounting history from before I had hatched.
Unlike the refined opulence of the Spathi manor, or the bustling, well-lit streets of Bahamut's cities I had grown accustod to, the maze of huge iron and stone doors looked like sothing straight from the early days of Bahamut. The streets were dark, the only light illuminating the poorly maintained street being ancient oil lanterns hung over doors and windows.
It was honestly like stepping back in ti, to an era where dragons were still learning how a society functioned, a slum worse than anything I had seen since returning to Bahamut, even if I ignored that the entire district vibrated with the purr of roaring forges and resonance of clanging hamrs.
Even to , the sight was more than jarring.. to Krystallo.. it simply made her mind short circuit.
Watching her eyes wander across the towering stacks of smoke above us and shift to the rows of blackened buildings where tired, soot-covered dragons dragged huge carts of coal, ore, and refined tals, I was quick to place a reassuring hand on her shoulder, looking to motion her along while hoping to steady her breath. "Careful where you walk, sweetie. The road here is uneven."
"R-Right," she whispered with a panicked haste, forcing a nod.
Though her mask wavered for a mont, after pulling her focus back, her composure rapidly steadied, the montary slip masked with a perfectly painted childishness.
One that could even fool the eyes of soone over 1500 years old, "Please don't be nervous, young miss. I know the district looks to be in a rather sorry state, but I assure you its rely because of the.. 'character' of smiths..." He quickly turned to with an awkward poise. "They don't care much for their outward appearance, but I assure you our personal smiths are different."
"Hm..." The mumbled scoff of a smith just down the street imdiately echoed, inaudible over the districts constant hum.
By the looks of the dallion on his cart, he too was working for the Spathi family, but seeing as the butler wasn't paying him any mind, I acted like I didn't notice just the sa.
"In any case, let us begin the tour, shall we?" Quickly motioning us toward the hulking iron door, an ancient on the other side nudged it open, and without pause, we walked through.
On the other side, the air imdiately thickened with heat, the glow of artifacts, and the subtle glimr of gold—the ground changing from cobblestone to smooth cast iron, as heavy carts of materials were moved on and off a truly hulking elevator at the back.
Having looked through other buildings in the district, it was the only smithy with such a refined image, decorated with so many artifacts it looked more like the personal smithy of a royal family rather than a place for newly hired commoners.
But, that was the image they wanted to paint with their careful choreography. -Clean scales, dustless floors, and politely smiling smiths...- It was so forced it was almost laughable, like soone was spitting a blatant lie in my face.
But, perhaps if my eyes were those of a normal noblewoman, I too wouldn't have noticed.
Eventually making our way to the back-most elevator, we descended to the level below, being presented with the sight of smiths rhythmically hamring blades, armor plates, and other exotic tal fittings, the next level the sa, and the one below, claid to be the hottest forges used for refining ore and slting mythril while the excess heat was used to fuel upper forges.
"As you can see," Stavros spoke with quiet pride, motioning toward rows of ancients, clearly the most experienced of those we had seen so far, each working independently under the firelight, "our smiths are highly skilled, producing so of the finest equipnt in Eastern Bahamut, and leading the developnt of new techniques and even the creation of new ores!" Stepping off the elevator, he proudly motioned us along, asking Krystallo to hold an artifact that would shield her from the heat only for her to refuse.
Even in her temporary, humanoid form, the heat seed to help quell the frost in her aura, turning the scorching heat of the forges into sothing.. rather comfortable.
So after a mont of back and forth, we continued, walking out between the towering forges ant only for dragons before looking at the various exotic tals stacked at their base.
On display, there was everything form high grade mythril, to extrely pure iron and even sothing Vasilias called 'high-carbon steel', sothing the butler spoke proudly of with regard to their research into ores and alloys.
It was quite impressive, but.. by the looks of the exotic glows exuding from the other, deeper forges, I decided to push deeper.. to see what they weren't flaunting.
Because that was where the gold truly laid.
"Hm... What about these?" I asked curiously, as I turned toward the next row of forges, feigning innocent interest.
Stavros briefly hesitated before smoothly continuing. "Ah, beyond here is our specialty wing, where we research more.. peculiar tals. The Spathi family prides itself on innovation. We are constantly testing exotic materials for new applications—armor alloys, weapon enhancents, and more."
"I see... Though the color of the flas in these forges are quite peculiar compared to the rest." I murmured, stepping through an invisible barrier that compounded the latent heat against my skin by magnitudes.
"Y-Yes... That can happen when the forges get too hot for the material in them, though sotis it is done on purpose."
"Hm..." Hopping up onto the lip of an unmanned forge, I looked over a series of large crucibles burning a blueish green fla. Lead. "Quite a fascinating setup you have here. Do you typically send these materials to researchers after they are refined?"
"Precisely." He nodded with haste, secretly urging to move on. "We sell these exotic materials to whoever wishes to buy them, though that is typically limited to researchers and institutions." Noticing look out over the few other unmanned forges filled with a mix of glowing crucibles, he motioned down. "Madam, if you could co down, I believe one of the smiths needs to access that forge."
Noticing him motioning over a smith to act busy at the forge, I politely hopped down. "I apologize for ddling, my curious nature can be hard to control sotis." Walking back over, seeing his discomfort, I acted coy. "The blood of researchers run thick. I'm sure you understand."
He was quick to nod, "Of course." Urgently wanting to move on, we were eventually down another layer, to the storage, a shockingly cool area compared to the upper levels. "Alexandros was quite eager to show you so of the materials here in storage. If you'd like samples, he offered you to take so. Sothing like a montary parting gift." Looking at Krystallo, his gaze turned gentle. "If things go well with the young master, we can also cut your family a deal with regard to material purchases in the future."
Clearly buttering up the offer of marriage I gave an interested nod, laying another blanket over my true intentions before turning to the huge storage with a greedy look.
It was exactly what we were looking for—dark, lead-lined containers stamped with an all-too-familiar insignia, bars of tungsten stacked neatly, and intricate arrays of crystalline structures unmistakably resembling the specialized electromagnetic shell of Acardi reactors. -To think you'd willingly reveal so much... You truly have confidence in your image of innocence, Alexandros...-
The reality of their research was clear, despite their attempts at concealing it with innocent reasonings, the Spathi weren't rely pursuing research out of passion, they were ticulously deciphering the materials of Acardi wreckages, searching for ways to refine more of the materials, not to use for innocent purposes, but to craft the infrastructure of weapons beyond their comprehension.
"Hm..." Softly humming to myself, careful not to draw attention, my smile carefully masked my thoughts. "Remarkable efforts, Stavros. These materials are truly.. most curious."
He inclined his head respectfully. "Ambition is necessary to keep our future safe, Lady Hera."
"Indeed..." I mused, feeling the weight of those words more acutely than perhaps even he intended as I picked up a perfectly rounded slab of tungsten. "I do hope we can maintain a good relation in the future. If possible, I may be interested in providing a.. forward paynt of sorts."
"Haha," He imdiately let out a pleased chuckle. "That is unnecessary, miss. Your interest is paynt enough. Please help yourself to so samples if you wish."
"I see. In that case," Gently gliding my fingers over the dense, smoothly polished tungsten slab, I walked by, passing deeper into the storage, asking simple, innocently curious questions before stopping in front of one of the larger lead-lined containers bearing the exact insignia Vasilias was looking for... "This insignia here," my tone remained steady to feign an innocent, idle interest. "It's quite peculiar... Is it another symbol of the Spathi estate? Perhaps of this forge?"
Stavros instantly stiffened, his expression briefly shifting before settling into practiced comfort. "It is rely the marking of one of our research partners overseas. They have assisted us greatly with regards to funding and supplying our research."
It was an annoyingly innocent response, trying to paint the image that they were simply selling to them.
But I continued to feign ignorance, Krystallo showing nothing more than idle curiosity in the subject as she strolled around innocently, mindful not to touch anything.
It was truly the perfect act, the look of a fascinated, yet ignorant young girl trying to decipher what she could from reflections alone.
Over the course of the 'tour', her mask had been refined and chiseled into a masterpiece, a terrifyingly believable work of art maintained while she weaved together thoughts like piecing together a puzzle presented by her brother.
Deep down, as much as she didn't realize it, she was terrifyingly astute—grasping far more than she let show, piecing together fragnts of color from darkness in order to form an image from lose strings. She moved like water—filling whatever shape she needed to, masking her gaze with softness even as her thoughts sharpened like glass.
It was as beautiful as it was horrifying.
The longer we spent in that storage, the more her mask was refined until it hardly looked like I an act, even to .
But the truth was, that sharpness she was refining was needed to fool not just the butler, but the eyes of the near dozen other dragons cloaked in the room.
The more ti we spent looking around, the more the pounding of hamrs echoed like war drums—each beat like the tick of a clock.. the beat of progress...
In that mont, I wished to end it... To reduce the entire facility into a molten pit...
But I needed to be patient... Until I had grasp of another string, I needed to preserve this one.
Even if it ant giving the enemy even more of a head start.
Though.. little did I know, Vasilias had already taken the initiative to slow their steps.
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