Note: Follow-up to Armil
Anima
The next morning found Keydis walking down familiar roads. While Redberry Park was further to the southeast, where more privileged clientele flew in by airship from Elata Spiritus, she was heading toward the center of the city, an industrial section of the metropolis. Far from the protective mountain range encircling the outer edges of the city, and without any of the stunning architecture like the Sapientia Coetus or the Specula Sorcere, this was a part of the city that endured some of the worst of the wintry winds that rushed through the thoroughfares. It became a place for warehouses, workshops, and the laborers that filled them. Her destination was a multi-tiered workshop, not too large compared to the businesses that surrounded it, but well-loved by its neighbors. The Fabrica Soiree was a simple construction of concrete and steel, and on its ground level, the outer walls were open to the street, allowing people to watch the blacksmiths, carpenters, and seamsters at work.
Those still learning or just less keen to be watched could find one of the workshops deeper inside. There were tools and workspaces for just about everything, even a small painting studio. The Fabrica Soiree was not known to be home to master artisans, being as its amenities were very limited in both size and scope, but the owner did everything he could to make sure beginners had room to learn and grow, without charging any fees. Some of the surrounding shops made regular donations, however, in the interest of having skilled workers to hire.
For a long moment, Keydis remained outside, listening to the familiar clamor of roaring furnaces, rasping files, the ring of different hammers striking metal and the rapid whine of saw teeth tearing into wood.
"You look like you've lost weight." Turning, the brunette saw the very man, or machina, she came to find. Sanctum Soiree, owner of the shop, a tall and broad-shouldered machina in a stained hide coat. Sleeves pulled back to the elbows, revealing his metallic forearms, bearing the deep bronze patina of aged dahlitium.
Despite the passage of years, he looked the same as the day they first met, except that he had no paintings on the plain reflective faceplate this day. It was still early, though, and Keydis wouldn't be surprised if he showed up later with something bright and whimsical painted on him. Years ago, a young girl named Elisa had seemed despondent, so he told her his blank face was too boring and could use an artist's touch. Since then, either Elisa or another budding artist, had painted something new on his faceplate almost every day.
When Keydis turned around, Sanctum could see that his words were perhaps truer than he realized. Although she could detect the machina stiffen momentarily, he betrayed nothing in his voice and the face was, of course, blank. Still, Keydis self-consciously shrugged her left shoulder and curled her lip in a slight smile to show she wasn't offended. "I'm in recovery," she explained simply. "Won't take up too much of your time, I just had some questions and you seemed like the man to ask."
Sanctum gave her a long look but then waved for her to walk with him as he entered the shop. He paused often to look in on what the early risers were doing, offering quick suggestions at times. Keydis held her patience while he did so, although she was anxious to tap his knowledge so she could figure out if her plan was even possible. This was just how the old machina was, and it had helped her on many occasions, so she couldn't let herself be upset by it now.
At last, they ended up in Sanctum's own office, a surprisingly small space tucked away in the very center of the building. As the demvir reached around her to close the door, he took a seat behind the desk. "I've been told you have made a successful business for yourself, a forge you can move wherever you need it. Congratulations on that! I can guess you did not come here to use one of these workspaces, though."
"Almost tempted just for the nostalgia, but no, you're right. Oh, and I've actually recently come into a more permanent location. You'll probably hear more about that once things settle down. For right now, though, I just needed to ask an expert and you're basically the library of crafting knowledge."
"You might be overestimating me. I believe you've surpassed me in skill with a hammer. If you're hoping I know about prosthetics, I'm afraid that's not an avenue of study that I've explored."
The brunette couldn't completely hold back the wince at hearing his assumption, but she shook her head. "Smithing question: how do I find mel deorum? When I was in Aridus, I learned that caelitium can only be truly quenched in the stuff. The royal family had me craft a sword for the prince and they provided the material, including the deorum, so I know for sure that it works. No one in Terminus seems to know what the stuff is and hardly anyone has a clue about working with caelitium in the first place."
Sanctum was quiet, leaving Keydis to listen to the muffled sounds of the many craftsmen at work outside. Just when Keydis began thinking he wouldn't answer, Sanctum instead pointed out, "Caelitium doesn't need to be quenched. Its natural strength and hardness are more than sufficient for any mechanical purpose you might need such rare material for."
"It's for a sword," Keydis clarified. "It needs to be the best. I need it to be the best thing I've ever made."
"Even for a sword..." Sanctum paused and then let out a synthesized sigh. "You can't find del meorum because most people know it by a different name. Deus mel is another name, but you'll mostly find it under the name, demdos. Before you rush out to the merchants, though, trade in demdos is forbidden in Terminus."
"What?" Keydis frowned. "Why? They had plenty of it in the Empire!"
Sanctum gave another sigh and shrugged his big shoulders. "The name translates to demvir's dew." He pulled a small knife from under his desk and then held an arm out, palm upward. Carefully, he slid the knife before two metal plates and pressed the tip in until a drop of glowing blue welled up and fell to the desk. Keydis recognized that glow and viscosity, understanding it just before Sanctum spelled it out. "It is demvir blood."
Already prepared to start shaking down some less reputable merchants to try and find the stuff, Keydis paused and tilted her head. "Demvir blood? What? Why?"
"We call it anima, ourselves. A precious commodity of many names. On the whole, people still don't completely understand what terra regia is, and caelitium least of all. Demvir blood looks similar to caelitium volantis, so similar that people used to murder the demvir just to bottle up their blood and sell it. They tried to sell our bodies as dahlitium. Whatever the similarities, though, our bodies and terra regia found in the world are different.
"The fluid itself is only part of the process. The demdos must be sealed away while fresh, and must come from a single source if you intend it to quench caelitium. If pooled together from multiple demvir, the caelitium will crack, possibly even shatter, when you try to quench." Sanctum had pressed a rag to the cut he made, stemming the flow. "That incompatibility is why its trade is forbidden. Otherwise, it incentivizes murder.
"Even if you had a willing donor, the volume that you would require for quenching anything larger than a dagger would be fatal to that demvir." Sanctum tapped his desk thoughtfully. "If the velen royals provided the material to you, it's likely leftover from the Cursus Wars. I sincerely hope they are not sacrificing demvir in the present day to forge metal."
"With the deposed emperor, that could be possible," Keydis mused, feeling sick to her stomach. "I trust the son would not, but his father was a piece of shit."
Sanctum seemed ill at ease with the thought, but seeing Keydis also upset by the idea, he pointed out, "Can't give it back. You made a weapon for the son, yes? And you trust him? Then be proud." Another mechanized sigh rolled out and then Sanctum rose to his feet. "Ask around if you want, but it's unlikely you'll find any from a reputable source."
"And a disreputable source might sell contaminated demdos, potentially ruining everything I'm working on." Keydis frowned.
"Caelitium doesn't need to be quenched. The material is so far beyond its competition that even mild caelitium will make a weapon without peer." Sanctum opened the door to leave and paused. "Should you settle for something smaller, perhaps I could help personally."
"Thanks but no. Appreciate the lesson." Keydis gave Sanctum a disappointed smile before heading for the exit.
Anima
Wordcount: 1,500
The next morning found Keydis walking down familiar roads. While Redberry Park was further to the southeast, where more privileged clientele flew in by airship from Elata Spiritus, she was heading toward the center of the city, an industrial section of the metropolis. Far from the protective mountain range encircling the outer edges of the city, and without any of the stunning architecture like the Sapientia Coetus or the Specula Sorcere, this was a part of the city that endured some of the worst of the wintry winds that rushed through the thoroughfares. It became a place for warehouses, workshops, and the laborers that filled them. Her destination was a multi-tiered workshop, not too large compared to the businesses that surrounded it, but well-loved by its neighbors. The Fabrica Soiree was a simple construction of concrete and steel, and on its ground level, the outer walls were open to the street, allowing people to watch the blacksmiths, carpenters, and seamsters at work.
Those still learning or just less keen to be watched could find one of the workshops deeper inside. There were tools and workspaces for just about everything, even a small painting studio. The Fabrica Soiree was not known to be home to master artisans, being as its amenities were very limited in both size and scope, but the owner did everything he could to make sure beginners had room to learn and grow, without charging any fees. Some of the surrounding shops made regular donations, however, in the interest of having skilled workers to hire.
For a long moment, Keydis remained outside, listening to the familiar clamor of roaring furnaces, rasping files, the ring of different hammers striking metal and the rapid whine of saw teeth tearing into wood.
"You look like you've lost weight." Turning, the brunette saw the very man, or machina, she came to find. Sanctum Soiree, owner of the shop, a tall and broad-shouldered machina in a stained hide coat. Sleeves pulled back to the elbows, revealing his metallic forearms, bearing the deep bronze patina of aged dahlitium.
Despite the passage of years, he looked the same as the day they first met, except that he had no paintings on the plain reflective faceplate this day. It was still early, though, and Keydis wouldn't be surprised if he showed up later with something bright and whimsical painted on him. Years ago, a young girl named Elisa had seemed despondent, so he told her his blank face was too boring and could use an artist's touch. Since then, either Elisa or another budding artist, had painted something new on his faceplate almost every day.
When Keydis turned around, Sanctum could see that his words were perhaps truer than he realized. Although she could detect the machina stiffen momentarily, he betrayed nothing in his voice and the face was, of course, blank. Still, Keydis self-consciously shrugged her left shoulder and curled her lip in a slight smile to show she wasn't offended. "I'm in recovery," she explained simply. "Won't take up too much of your time, I just had some questions and you seemed like the man to ask."
Sanctum gave her a long look but then waved for her to walk with him as he entered the shop. He paused often to look in on what the early risers were doing, offering quick suggestions at times. Keydis held her patience while he did so, although she was anxious to tap his knowledge so she could figure out if her plan was even possible. This was just how the old machina was, and it had helped her on many occasions, so she couldn't let herself be upset by it now.
At last, they ended up in Sanctum's own office, a surprisingly small space tucked away in the very center of the building. As the demvir reached around her to close the door, he took a seat behind the desk. "I've been told you have made a successful business for yourself, a forge you can move wherever you need it. Congratulations on that! I can guess you did not come here to use one of these workspaces, though."
"Almost tempted just for the nostalgia, but no, you're right. Oh, and I've actually recently come into a more permanent location. You'll probably hear more about that once things settle down. For right now, though, I just needed to ask an expert and you're basically the library of crafting knowledge."
"You might be overestimating me. I believe you've surpassed me in skill with a hammer. If you're hoping I know about prosthetics, I'm afraid that's not an avenue of study that I've explored."
The brunette couldn't completely hold back the wince at hearing his assumption, but she shook her head. "Smithing question: how do I find mel deorum? When I was in Aridus, I learned that caelitium can only be truly quenched in the stuff. The royal family had me craft a sword for the prince and they provided the material, including the deorum, so I know for sure that it works. No one in Terminus seems to know what the stuff is and hardly anyone has a clue about working with caelitium in the first place."
Sanctum was quiet, leaving Keydis to listen to the muffled sounds of the many craftsmen at work outside. Just when Keydis began thinking he wouldn't answer, Sanctum instead pointed out, "Caelitium doesn't need to be quenched. Its natural strength and hardness are more than sufficient for any mechanical purpose you might need such rare material for."
"It's for a sword," Keydis clarified. "It needs to be the best. I need it to be the best thing I've ever made."
"Even for a sword..." Sanctum paused and then let out a synthesized sigh. "You can't find del meorum because most people know it by a different name. Deus mel is another name, but you'll mostly find it under the name, demdos. Before you rush out to the merchants, though, trade in demdos is forbidden in Terminus."
"What?" Keydis frowned. "Why? They had plenty of it in the Empire!"
Sanctum gave another sigh and shrugged his big shoulders. "The name translates to demvir's dew." He pulled a small knife from under his desk and then held an arm out, palm upward. Carefully, he slid the knife before two metal plates and pressed the tip in until a drop of glowing blue welled up and fell to the desk. Keydis recognized that glow and viscosity, understanding it just before Sanctum spelled it out. "It is demvir blood."
Already prepared to start shaking down some less reputable merchants to try and find the stuff, Keydis paused and tilted her head. "Demvir blood? What? Why?"
"We call it anima, ourselves. A precious commodity of many names. On the whole, people still don't completely understand what terra regia is, and caelitium least of all. Demvir blood looks similar to caelitium volantis, so similar that people used to murder the demvir just to bottle up their blood and sell it. They tried to sell our bodies as dahlitium. Whatever the similarities, though, our bodies and terra regia found in the world are different.
"The fluid itself is only part of the process. The demdos must be sealed away while fresh, and must come from a single source if you intend it to quench caelitium. If pooled together from multiple demvir, the caelitium will crack, possibly even shatter, when you try to quench." Sanctum had pressed a rag to the cut he made, stemming the flow. "That incompatibility is why its trade is forbidden. Otherwise, it incentivizes murder.
"Even if you had a willing donor, the volume that you would require for quenching anything larger than a dagger would be fatal to that demvir." Sanctum tapped his desk thoughtfully. "If the velen royals provided the material to you, it's likely leftover from the Cursus Wars. I sincerely hope they are not sacrificing demvir in the present day to forge metal."
"With the deposed emperor, that could be possible," Keydis mused, feeling sick to her stomach. "I trust the son would not, but his father was a piece of shit."
Sanctum seemed ill at ease with the thought, but seeing Keydis also upset by the idea, he pointed out, "Can't give it back. You made a weapon for the son, yes? And you trust him? Then be proud." Another mechanized sigh rolled out and then Sanctum rose to his feet. "Ask around if you want, but it's unlikely you'll find any from a reputable source."
"And a disreputable source might sell contaminated demdos, potentially ruining everything I'm working on." Keydis frowned.
"Caelitium doesn't need to be quenched. The material is so far beyond its competition that even mild caelitium will make a weapon without peer." Sanctum opened the door to leave and paused. "Should you settle for something smaller, perhaps I could help personally."
"Thanks but no. Appreciate the lesson." Keydis gave Sanctum a disappointed smile before heading for the exit.