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The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/BlueFishcake on 2024-11-02 11:13:44+00:00.

As William stepped into his office, he couldn’t help but feel that just maybe some of the people inside were annoyed with him.

There was his sister, who was sitting on the couch with her arms folded grumpily over her chest.

Xela was… looking a bit haggard. Which was to be expected given she’d both been de facto running his territory while also overseeing the training of more pilots than any other person on the planet beyond the principals of each nation’s flight academies. And while she was training significantly less people than those venerable institutions, she also had access to significantly fewer resources.

Then there was Piper. Easily the least frazzled of the bunch, but hardly what one could call happy. Which, again, was to be expected given that she was to her knowledge working very hard to make sure a bunch of workshops spread about the country continued to churn out machine components with no as of yet discernable purpose.

Then there was his Aunt Karla… who was visibly admiring the gramophone – the second prototype - that sat in the corner of the room churning out its umpteenth rendition of ‘Ride of the Valkyries’. A song he was growing thoroughly tired of, but as of yet had no alternative to given that he’d yet to make any other recordings.

And while he had the capacity to magic one-up with ease, that would only lead to more awkward conversations as to where he’d gotten it.

“William, William,” his aunt chirped excitedly as he stepped into the room. “You have to tell me how this thing works! And how you came up with it! I mean, it’s playing music. But there’s no magic.”

He smiled. Karla had always been his favorite aunt. Mostly because she was both a bit of a rebel and about as disinterested in politics as someone could be and still be a noble. That she was likely here acting as a spy on behalf of his mother did little to dim his pleasure at seeing her again.

“I’m afraid the details are as of yet something of a trade secret,” he said, ignoring the grown woman’s overexaggerated pout.

“Even to family?” Karla whined.

“I can say that I stumbled across the idea during my research of the Flashbang and Spell-Bolt.” It was more than he’d told anyone else.

Karla frowned. “I know things are a bit… tense between your mother and you, but House Ashfield still has a fair amount of production capability. Certainly more than those merchants you’re working with. If you sent the details back home we could practically print money.”

Across from the woman, Olivia winced in her seat.

For his part, William’s smile thinned. “Given that the secrets to the Flashbang spell and the Spell-Bolt can apparently be found in the annals of the Ashfield library, at least according to my mother, I’m sure you’ll be able to figure it out without me with just a little reading.”

Karla paled a bit at his dry tone, recognizing the foot she’d just shoved into her mouth. One of the unfortunate downsides of being the ‘fun, devil-may-care fighter pilot aunt’, he supposed, was gaffes like this.

Still, neither of those choices had been his aunt or sister’s decision. “With that said, if either you or Olivia wanted one of your own for your personal use, I’m sure my business partners would be happy to provide us with a few early prototypes – along with a few new songs.”

It was a small olive branch on his part, though it was less aimed at his aunt and more at his sister, whose eyes widened with excitement at the thought before she recalled that she was supposed to be mad at him and sank back into her ‘grumpy’ posture.

Glancing over, he could see Piper clearly wanted to say something, even though the dwarf was holding back. Likely some question as to why he was outsourcing the production of such a clearly lucrative product when he had dozens of workshops churning out junk with no real discernable purpose.

Which was a state of affairs that couldn’t last forever. Certainly, while his people were thankful for the employment he provided – the Alchemists most of all – the fact remained that said gratitude would only keep them motivated for so long in the face of work that seemed pointless.

For one thing, he already knew that some of the more curious workers were already trying to piece together the end result of what the many workshops had been working on. Even if he’d not seen it. That was just how engineers were. And even without any kind of knowledge of internal combustion, some of them would be making progress, if only by treating the the many prefabs as a jigsaw puzzle.

“That would be a queenly gift,” Karla said finally. “One I know that both Olivia and I would be very thankful for during our… sabbatical at your estate.”

“Yes, super thankful,” Olivia drawled, eyes narrowed at him. “Sure, it’s not exactly a duchy, but a little box that plays music is almost as good. Almost.”

Ah, sassy teenage sarcasm. How he thanked the lord that the only one who really engaged with that on his team was Olzenya.

Still, he could see the puzzlement that blossomed in the faces of those present who weren’t his family as they registered the half elf’s words.

“A Duchy?” Xela asked.

Before anyone could say anything else, Karla spoke up in an act of savvy normally far outside her wheelhouse. “Olivia, dear, perhaps statements like that should wait until it’s just family present.”

“S’not like it matter now anyway. I’m here aren’t I?” The girl huffed, before jumping from her seat and storming from the room in a huff.

Karla had moved to grab the girl at the last moment, only to pause. For his part, William had tensed more than a little, eyes flitting about for signs of invisible watchers turned assassins. It was an irrational fear he knew, but he felt it all the same.

Indeed, it was with that thought in mind that he made to follow, only for Karla to call after him. “Give her some time, William. The last few days have been… tumultuous for her.”

William frowned, before glancing to Xela.

“I gave her an escort the moment you arrived. They’re just outside the door and will follow at a discreet distance.”

He nodded, belatedly recalling the slightly larger number than average guards that had been stationed outside when he’d walked in.

And there were things he still needed to discuss with the people present here.

Xela’s plebeian-pilot training program. How Piper’s refinement of their Earth-Blood supply was proceeding. As well as the state of the workshops.

Reluctantly, he decided to heed his aunt’s advice.

Though speaking of her, he thought as he glanced at the woman. If she’s here to act as Olivia’s chaperone as well as a spy, I’ll  be putting her to work on the plebian-pilot program.

No program could ever have access to too many competent pilots. And even with the unexpected offer of aid from House Greygrass, William was still woefully short of the numbers he wanted.

I also need to get the alchemists started on making ammunition for my new planes now that the workshops are running properly, he thought. Which means somehow convincing them to go under a geass.

Which would be an awkward conversation all round. It wasn’t like he could just order them to do it.

Hell, not even the Queen could do that.

…And he only had a weekend to do it.

Yeah, Olivia will probably need to wait a bit before I can get around to her. So I suppose it’s fortunate that it’s not like she’s going anywhere, he thought with grim amusement.

It was barely thirty minutes after he’d finished his tour of Redwater county’s many workshops that he found himself alone in his ‘lab’ again.

Though there were a few new additions present. Prefabbed parts straight from the workshops stood strewn about the floor like so many discarded toys.

And connecting each of them was a bit of steel wire. Haphazardly welded in place, it crisscrossed the room, making the whole ensemble look like some kind of absurd spider web – with engine parts playing the role of flies captured within.

And as William raised the hood of his welding mask, he hummed in triumph as he inspected the weld he’d just made on the final piece.

I really hope this works, he muttered to himself as he moved to sit in the center of the room, hands reaching out to grasp the nearest wire.

“Steel. Warp. Hands. Mental Model. Engage. Instant,” he chanted, feeling a sudden hollow form inside him as one of his magical charges flowed out of his soul and into the void.

Where a hungry Fae was ready and waiting to enact his will upon reality in return for the morsel of emotional energy he’d just provided.

Indeed, it was barely a moment before the world shifted around him. Through closed eyelids he ‘saw’ the entire web of parts around him. Hazy and indistinct, but there all the same.

Anything that was steel and connected to that which he held in his hands.

Which was a little absurd. What he was holding wasn’t just steel. Steel was a carbon and iron alloy. But the metal in his hands undoubtedly held other impurities too. Byproducts of the forging process. Yet unlike the other bits of engine part that were made of different materials  - copper wiring and rubber tubing - that seemed as a void to his senses, anything he considered ‘steel’ was clear to him.

And thus malleable.

Because magic was as much about ‘feeling’ as reality. Which made sense, as Fae were the ones who were really doing all this - and they were all about feelings. It just so happened to be that they were using his mind as the interpreter …

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