The Sky Above pt. 3

[Olga Barber]

3rd of Ash, 124th Year of the Age of Steel

The Imperial Academy of Arcana Science was, exceptionally, well-funded. The Gelerian Imperium valued the Academy and relied heavily on its various magetech specialists, professors, and researchers to aid in its ever on-going (forever) war against both the natural and supernatural. This was only good and right, and Olga thanked whatever stars she could that they always stocked a number of easy to use (and lose) Dragonshard Foci.

The Dragonshard Focus - Foci, in plural - was the tool for any practitioner of World Magics. A wand, a staff, a gilded bracelet, the form varied, as did the pictographs etched all over. Images of the body, the soul, and otherwise for a Necromancer. An Alchemist might prefer all manner of poultices and potions, pictographs of brewing and boiling and bubbling. And for Olga?

“This will be the third time this term, Olga.”

“Yes. Of course, Stacy,” Olga said, smiling, too-tight, her pearly whites on full display. “I know - and so, apparently, do you. It’s not - .”

Stacy was a horrid sort of woman. A bureaucrat in her prime, with all of the time and energy to make Olga’s life all the worse. “These take time to make, Olga,” she said, clacking her painted nails along the wooden frame of a wand. “You could try and make one. I’ll approve the funds,” she smiled, and her teeth were marked red with lipstick.

“Sure, of course. But you have seven right there.”

“Seven that you haven’t yet lost. Those last two were specifically loans.”

“Fine! Dock my wages.”

“That isn’t how it works. The students make these, they aren’t paid for their labor - and it costs them, and their instructors time.”

“I understand. Yes. But the work I’m doing is -.”

“Important?” Stacy yawned, and Olga imagined pushing her off the tallest point at the Academy. “Urgent? Desperately in need of someone who doesn’t lose her basic materials?”

Olga decidedly ignored her comments. “Look - there. There’s one for Artifice,” she edged her way closer to the small collection of wands, reaching ever closer to the red one before Stacy once again blocked her way. They wouldn’t come to blows, no, but they’d get as close as they could.

“Stacy! Just give it to me.”

“No -.”

“Yes, just -.”

“No! Hey, what are you - OW!”

And, as Olga bit (it was a shallow bite she’d later tell herself, and Tolfar, and then her direct manager. She’d remind them no blood was drawn) down on pudgy, pale flesh, she reached for the red wand decorated in strange rituals and constructions. Life, drawn, life, made. “Thanks, Stacy! Remember to charge -.”

“Olga Baber, I am going to report -.”

“Sure,” Olga said, holding the wand tightly to her chest and running back to her lab.

[Olga Barber]

“The pictographs used should depict the Lure’s function,” Olga said, turning the tank’s steering wheel slowly as she examined Tolfar’s work. She traced the fine lines and circles, linked here and there as he’d mapped out the whole of the tank’s body and function. Wheels, to body, to the center, to the wheel, and cycled back out again. Unraveled and then tied together, sprawled drawings painted onto rubber.

“All in all, excellent work, Tolfar. We’ll need four more exactly the same should we be met with success.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She traced the lines over with her own focus, and then with a calligraphy paint brush. “We’ve let the blood dry, which is fine. There isn’t a theory that suggests otherwise, but as a matter of personal taste -,” she paused, for effect, dipping the brush into the tin of blood. “I find it a minor improvement to see the blood still wet as things begin. I find the magic sticks to it all the better.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She did wish Tolfar provided more than yes or no. She hadn’t been so short-worded as an apprentice; no, with Olga, it had been the opposite issue. Solutions and theories poured out of her as quickly as she could scribble the needed pictographs. Plans and designs beyond whatever her professors imagined possible. Not that Tolfar was a bad apprentice, she reminded herself, and then, as full of ideas she’d been, Olga hadn’t executed one of them. Perhaps there was something to be found in the reserve Tolfar demonstrated.

“Now, remind me. How do we prepare the core?”

“Dragonshard, and -.”

“What kind of Dragonshard? Usually?”

“Aetherite, ma’am. Crystalized aetherium. One of the more common varieties.”

Olga nodded. “Walk me through the process, Tolfar.”

“The creation of the core should reflect the function. The Artificer - you, in this case, ma’am - will inscribe pictographs on the core’s surface, to best prepare it for the next phase in the Artifice process, the circle of mending.”

“And, what does this core need to reflect? How will the tank work?”

“An understanding of its body. That’s why I asked the engineering department for plans, for reference, and why you invited Gunnery Sergeant Jamison R. Dusseldorf to participate in tomorrow’s ritual,” and as he finished, she motioned for him to continue. “And, the core will need to have a solid foundation of its driving instruction. That’s why you interviewed -.”

“Attempted an interview, anyway.”

“Yes ma’am. As you say,” Tolfar nodded. “You attempted to interview Private John Baccas. He wasn’t able to provide satisfactory answers, so instead you’ve asked him to join us for the Artificing.”

“And if he’s unable to provide satisfactory answers, then, Tolfar?”

“These glyphs -,” and he pointed to three large circles surrounding the tank. “Hold pictographs denoting you, Gunnery Sergeant Jamison R. Dusseldorf, and Private John Baccas. You’ve created glyphs that reference all of your specific titles and roles. Private Baccas’ circle holds annotations for instinct, memory, and other various forms of thoughts, all of which funnel towards the tank.”

“And the dam -.”

“The scrivening dam will hold the process while you’re able to sort out instinct, feeling, and the lesser form of thoughts out, the latter half of the ritual incorporating only the purest memory of his instruction in the tank’s use.”

“Very good - and how can we incorporate that better into the core?”

“You can mark it, in a similar way, but provide a specific code word or phrase to tap into that memory - tying any individual into the driver title and role.”

“That’s very good, Tolfar. Would you mind?” Olga said, handing the apprentice the dragonstone. “Do what you think is needed, and don’t hesitate to add flourishes or additions, if you feel it appropriate. I’ll watch and correct only when I need to.”

And so, Tolfar slowly started to etch out the various pictographs on the core. He indicated the tank, the body, and the various facets of its design. He indicated the driver, and a specific code phase, to be delivered through various taps on the steering wheel. Good and fair, as fair as Olga was concerned. She’d have to do all of this again, when she stepped into the Circle of Mending. The core helped prime everything to work, and then all of the magic was up to her.

“Very good, Tolfar. Please remember to order four dragonshards, and copy them all in the same style as this - we need all of them prepared to do multiple Artifice magics at once.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

[Olga Barber]

One last check, Olga thought to herself. She’d sent Tolfar home after he’d completed the last pictographs on the additional dragonshards. There, all five, dazzling and bright and decorated perfectly. Magic was such a strange thing. It wasn’t human, she’d long ago decided after more than a few run-ins with idiots who’d burned their souls with runes. That, and her own experiences as a world mage. She controlled a force beyond herself, and it was something alive and dangerous.

She then checked the lures. Each a steering wheel, each a perfect copy of the other. Tolfar certainly improved. It was only a few edits to make them up to her standards (beyond perfection), and then they were ready. The cores - the dragonshards - she’d keep outside of the tank, but she could place one in the tank itself - and the others in individual circles outside. Each marked by a specific glyph.

The diagram itself was likewise perfect. Prepared.

She’d asked Windrow to step by and confirm it, and she of course had nothing bad to say. The diagram should work. Three larger circles for herself, and the other two, Dusseldorf and Baccas, to feed the core information and provide it the capacity to learn. Then, the other two would provide it with the information it needed to function; Olga would too, as she referenced the designs and instructions.

And, then, all going well, the tank should function - and they would have four additional copies to use. And, ideally, the Imperium would feel more grateful to Olga than it already had - and even more ideal, perhaps it would allow Olga to fully lean into her own experience, and build something truly impressive. Then, and only then, could Olga really show the Geleriam Imperium her true worth - and she could finally make up for the mistakes of her horrible military service.