A few days have passed without any response from the other side. What’s worse, Wyvernshield locked himself up in his workshop and was showing no intention of ever leaving it. His helpers were constantly busy, erecting new dwarven structures and contraptions all over the camp, but their leader was nowhere to be seen.
After a week, Hazelmere finally decided to do something. She approached the workshop, which was now dominating the entire camp. It was three times bigger than the command tent and was entirely made out of wood. It was a very orderly, symmetrical structure, where nothing looked out of place. It had big windows, but all of them were shut tight for the last few days.
Hazelmere used the door knocker to announce her presence. It was a thoroughly decorated hammer attached to the door.
“May I come in?”
There was no response, so she knocked again. When she heard no response for the second time, she opened the door. To her surprise, it wasn’t locked.
As soon as she was in, a deep voice started raging:
“Haven’t I told ya not to …”
She saw Wyvernshield standing in front of a large wooden desk, with papyrus sheets all over it. He was staring at her with blood-shot eyes, holding a big hammer in his raised hand, looking as if he was about to throw it at her.
But instead, he lowered his hand and started rubbing his eyes. Hazelmere noticed that his beard, which has always been the only neat thing about him, was now an entangled mess.
“You’re too tall and too thin to be a dwarf. What do you want?”
“I was just getting worried. I have heard you haven’t left your workshop for a week.”
Wyvernshield let out a labored sigh, dropping the hammer on the ground while returning to the table. Hazelmere realized the papyrus sheets weren’t only on top of the table. A lot of them were under it too.
“I don’t get it. It makes no sense at all.”
“What is it that you don’t understand,” she said while approaching the table.
“How can such a thin, fragile-looking hand lift something several times its size?”
“Maybe it was magical in nature?”
Wyvernshield gave her a tired look.
“Remember, just because we can’t detect any magic in those things, that doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist,” she added to her case.
“It generates the energy through combustion, so why … but then again … could …”
A part of Wyvernshield’s vigor returned.
“It used alien fuel to generate energy. The fuel could have some magical properties. But … in that case …”
“There are so many things we don’t understand about the other side. So many, we had to ask some other race for help.”
“Aye, you didn’t call for me because it was easy to understand, I get that. It’s just that, I’ve never imagined it could be so …”
“Alien?”
“I don’t think that describes it properly. The Sun elves eatin’ nothin’ but the plants, even though they can, is alien. This is on a completely different level. But one thing is for sure. Whatever is on the other side can’t be evil.”
That made Hazelmere’s ears twitch: “What makes you say that? I mean, you have seen the hell, didn’t you? There is nothing but a frozen wasteland out there. What could survive out there besides the beasts and the demons?”
“Then, how did those wastelanders manage to create such a fine construct?”
“I don’t understand what you are trying to say.”
“That construct is the proof there’s a civilization out there, highly skilled in engineerin’. Do you really think some evil creatures would bother advancin’ their civilization to the point where they can create such intricate constructs?”
“We know each demonic race has a civilization of its own. That is nothing new.”
“And how many of them are into engineerin’?”
“Well … we are talking about the cubus demons here! I have told you, they like tricking people into joining them and that some dwarves could be on their side.”
Wyvernshield looked over the many notes on the table, with a serious look on his face.
“Are you tellin’ me I’d be able to create similar beauties if I’d join these demons?”
Realizing her mistake, Hazelmere’s eyes opened wide. The dwarves never really cared about the gods, the angels, and the demons. The only things they care about are their craft, their family, and, above all, their ancestors. She immediately realized that Wyvernshield wasn’t joking.The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
“Uhh … no! No! These demons are tricksters, we can’t trust them!”
“But can you trust the other races of Greadinall? Can you trust the elves?”
“It … it’s not the same! The demons are evil!”
“Oh, yeah! All those books they’ve given you for free are soo evil.”
“They are probably trying to get on our good side so they could trick us later!”
“I’ve told you that whatever is on the other side can’t be evil. Evil is destructive by its very nature. Evil doesn’t make constructs.”
“Demons have scholars of their own! Their societies would crumble thousands of years ago if they were only interested in destruction!”
“And what do their scholars do? They study magic, which is given to them by their gods. They aren’t capable of creatin’ anythin’ on their own. It’s too much of a bother! It’s too much work, and there are no emotions involved.”
He looked at her with determined eyes.
“You don’t understand what I’m sayin’. Please, understand that I’m not tryin’ to be offensive. You’re a good host, a respectful one, and I want to be respectful in return. And, among the dwarves, tellin’ the truth is the ultimate sign of respect. So, please, understand that I’m not sayin’ this out of malice, quite the contrary.”
He made a short pause before continuing.
“Spellcraft is a laughable profession.”
“Huh?” Hazelmere tilted her head in surprise.
“You mages are workin’ with the tools the gods have created for you. You’re takin’ the easy route. The level of knowledge and discipline needed for a mage to work his … her craft is nothin’ when compared with engineerin’.”
“Are you serious! I had to stay a virgin for hundreds of years! Do you think that didn’t take much willpower?”
“I guess that is a serious issue when it comes to your race, but some other races are much better at handlin’ their desires and emotions, stayin’ rational.”
“Says the dwarf who stays locked inside his workshop for five days and wants to throw a hammer at anyone who dares to disturb him!”
Wyvernshield paused for a while before responding: “I guess our races have different passions. However, I’m not tryin’ to argue here. I’m tryin’ to make a point.”
“Well, you’re doing a terrible job at it!”
“I understand you will find this offensive, and I know why. Nobody likes it when others demean their profession, I get it. But, what I’m tryin’ to say is that creatin’ constructs requires a much higher level of patience, discipline, and above all, passion than spellcastin’. And that’s a fact. There’s no way the evil demons would have any of it.”
“I’ve told you, several times already, that those demons may have some dwarves on their side!”
“And I’m telling you it’s not the dwarves who have made that construct.”
“What makes you say that?”
Wyvernshield let out a deep sigh while wiping his face with his hands.
“I’ve been thinkin’ these last few days … thinkin’ about what kind of people it takes to make that thing. And the more I’m thinkin’ about it, the more I’m convinced it’s not the dwarves. You see … we dwarves are extremely proud of our work. We see it as the main purpose of our lives. Takin’ useless raw materials and turnin’ them into somethin’ useful and wonderful, what greater purpose could a person have? And these constructs I’ve seen do resemble some of it. But there’s a major difference.”
He used his fingers to accentuate the point.
“Their constructs have a disturbin’ lack of aesthetics, both the big one and the ones near the portal. While magnificent in function and extremely useful, their constructs lack a personal touch of the one who has made them. They lack identity. It’s as if those were put together as fast as possible, considerin’ nothin’ but their functionality. And that’s not how any dwarf would treat his craft! We spend years, decades, sometimes centuries turnin’ our work into a work of art! If somethin’ has to be made, then make it as beautiful as possible! We take pride in it! That’s why there’s art in artisan! But these people don’t care! They are only concerned with usefulness, and it pisses me off! That’s how I know the dwarves aren’t behind this. There’s no way any dwarf would ever make somethin’ so sterile!”
Then, he slumped a bit.
“However, I can’t deny their skill. Regardless of the differences in our philosophy, I can’t deny that they’re the only ones besides the dwarves capable of makin’ constructs. And I’m very conflicted about it. I want to meet those people to congratulate them on a job well done and share ideas with them. But, on the other hand, I want to punch them in the face for makin’ their constructs so lifeless, so … soulless.”
“Maybe the trinkets they send will be different?”
“You think they’ll send them? I understand it takes time for them to respond since I gave them some things that are very hard to figure out, but they have no reason to respond the same way.”
“I am confident they want to maintain the good, friendly relations we have. These demons aren’t warlike and, who knows, maybe they are scared of us as much as we are scared of them? That would explain why they are so curious about us.”
“Aye, that makes sense. It’s just … I’ve never been so conflicted in my whole life.”
“Maybe you should try reading more of their books? It is about time we send them to the palace, but I can hold on to them for one more week if necessary. Maybe those books will help you understand those demons better. Then, we can share our opinions and see if we can come to a conclusion.”
“Aye, I’ll do that. I’ve been tryin’ to figure out how they’ve done it through the math, but maybe I’ll get a better understandin’ if I go through their books.”
“If it is the math you are interested in, they have sent us a book on their math. It starts very simple but gets insanely complicated a few dozen pages in, to the point you can’t make any sense of it.”
“You have a book on their math?” Wyvernshield bristled with vigor once again.
“Yes. Unlike us, they use a system based on tens. They are using a combination of ten symbols to construct the value they are trying to express. That way, they can easily construct any possible value, and those values are also very easy to understand. But, they are using far more operators than necessary. They are using those operators to calculate the values that make no sense, so we didn’t really get invested in it. Those values have no application in real life, they are academic at best …”
All of a sudden, Wyvernshield grabbed her dress, a little below the shoulders, and started shaking her ferociously. His short stature made it very hard for him to do so, he had to climb on his fingers.
“And why didn’t you give me that book!”
It took Hazelmere a few moments to recover from the surprise: “Aaa … there’s nothing interesting in it! I’ve told you, their mathematics are academic at best!”
“You mages are even bigger jackasses than I thought! You’re all clueless! You have no idea!”
He released his grip as suddenly as he had grabbed her, running for the exit with his short steps.
“Quickly! Show me where it is!”
Hazelmere was still in shock after Wyvernshield had left the workshop. She took a moment to rearrange her dress.
“Quickly, you dull nail!” She heard him scream from the outside.
“So much from handling emotions and staying rational,” she grumbled.