Universe's End

Chapter 251: Excuses to celebrate

“Did you hear the news?”

“Oh, hey, Janice,” Marciello waved as his best friend ran up to him. “Heard what news?”

Janice flicked her hair over her shoulder, the black locks bouncing as she did. “About the upcoming Ukareist Festival,”

“You aren’t exactly being specific,” Marciello grumbled. “What about the Festival?”

“Apparently, they’ve decided to open up a crafters branch tournament! Well, tournament might not be the right word, more like an evaluation. Either way. You can enter solo, in a duo, or in a group project!”

“And that matters to us… why? Neither of us is tier one yet,” Marciello sighed. They were sixteen and seventeen respectively, a year at the earliest, before Janice officially was a tier one and two for himself.

“Well, that’s the thing! There was no tier specification.”

“Meaning we can enter?”

“Meaning we can enter,” Janice said with a grin.

Marciello crossed his arms and began to pace, deep in thought.

I can enter. We could enter.

It was a little sudden, but then so was that Ukareist Festival itself. Marciello didn’t know many of the details, but apparently, it was meant to be a mid-year festival honoring the World Spirit Aelia. Food, drink, competitions, the entire city had taken to the announcement with excitement, as any chance to party brought, especially with the Siege Waves now a thing of the past.

And if we did well, maybe Dad would finally get off my back.

That alone was worth its weight in credits, ignoring the fact that credits didn’t have a physical form.

Weird phrase, but that’s what everyone has always said.

“You know the deck is stacked against us, right?” Marciello asked his best friend. “We’re not properly tiered, meaning we don’t have the advantages of ascension skills.”

“Ehh, who cares?” Janice said flippantly. “By our age, the Daughter of Design was already said to be a top-level crafter.”

“But she’s also…” Marciello stuck two fingers up, miming horns.

“Oh, that’s just a rumor, you can’t believe everything you hear,” Janice snorted. “I doubt E.O.N. would allow for someone to have the ability to steal skills perfectly.”

“I guess,” Marciello surrendered. “But she is also the Lord Founder’s daughter, I doubt that counts for nothing.”

“You’re doing the thing again,” Janice pointed out. “You know it’s a good idea. We may not have any real ascension skills, but we’re still the best in school at pneuma manipulation. You’ve heard that the Forgemaster and even the Lord Founder have mentioned that relying entirely on ascension skills is just a crutch. Real skill matters most.”

“I guess,” Marciello repeated. “So, you got any ideas?”

“Of course,” Janice rolled her eyes before she unraveled a bound-up piece of paper, Marciello’s eyes gradually widening.

“This is amazing, but we don’t exactly have the funds to afford all this stuff. Gravite? High-quality crushed gem dust? And that’s just a few.”

“Sure, normally we wouldn’t be able to,” Janice agreed. “But we can use your school project fund.”

“But this isn’t a school project, which means no reimbursement, you know how the rules go.”

“Ehh, if it succeeds, it won’t matter,” Janice pointed out.

“And what do you call this idea anyway?” Marciello asked, knowing that his partner in crime was certain to have already made up a name for the idea.

“Oh, simple. If it’s all about layering a coat on something, take a guess.”

“Uhh, polishing?”

“No, dumbo,” Janice snorted.

“So, what then?” Marciello asked.

“I call it lacquering.”

All this, just to feed a hungry World Spirit.

Rory shook his head as he took in the sight of Ehkorrus. Three months had passed, and the festival was finally upon them. Oh, he was certain it had required an ungodly amount of rushed planning, but that was the delegation that Irene and others had dealt with. Rory had three months to spend within his mental palace, mulling over more important things.

While there were some rather clever ideas, if he said so himself, they were neither here nor there for today. No, his main purpose of today –aside from eating snacks— was to be one of the evaluators for the ‘Aspirant Forum, ’ a play on words of his own Adept Forum. The aspirants weren’t really ‘competing’ in the traditional sense; there were no winners or losers involved. The main idea was to submit a creation that would be evaluated by judges, and depending on the evaluation, one could be given letters of recommendation or similar things. If someone were unknown but ambitious, it would be a perfect opportunity to take a leap forward in one go.

Roxy was also one of the evaluators, for what it was worth. Rory was glad that she was an evaluator herself and not a participant, as any accepted Adept was barred from competing as an Aspirant.

For the time being, Rory was rather bored. He wasn’t just an evaluator, no, of course; he’d been given the role of Lead Evaluator. Anyone recommended by the other evaluators would gain entry to the secondary evaluation after the fact.

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So much, just so Aelia has an excuse to have a snack.

Sighing, Rory continued to watch the festival from his vantage point upon one of the Grand Tree’s branches. One notable thing that everyone did throughout the night was grab a plate of food or a drink and proceed to dump it into what looked like an oversized brazier, something he’d admittedly whipped up in only two or three days.

It was a blatant rip from Earth's ancient cultural practices, but with no one to call him out on it, he took no shame in it.

“You better be enjoying yourself, Aelia.”

“Oh, I am,” a voice said as a figure sprouted from the branch next to him.

“Showing up personally?” Rory asked, arching an eyebrow at the world spirit.

“No, just making a quick stop in,” Aelia half smirked, her wooden face shockingly expressive. “All the offered meals and drinks have made me better understand why restaurants and food stalls are some of the most numerous locations within your city.”

“And the others?”

“You know I can’t share too much info regarding the others,” Aelia said sternly.

Hardy har har, doesn’t she feel clever for that one?

“But I suppose something so minor won’t be a problem. Yes, they also have food sectors, if that’s how you’d want to call them. Snacking seems to be a universal trait of all the enlightened races.”

“Of course, who doesn’t like a good snack?” Rory said.

“I will also admit my appreciation for the unexpected boon that has come along with this entire event,” Aelia said as she crossed her arms. “The ceremonial nature of all these offerings has given me a healthy serving of stigmata.”

“Didn’t really think you used stigmata,” Rory said, somewhat surprised.

“While I don’t have the same attributes as you, stigmata is an attribute I’ve had access to for far longer than any of you had, essentially since there began to be those who revered me. And unlike you Founders, there are no humanizing tales of me.”

“Uh-huh, so this was a secret ploy to power yourself up?”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Aelia said, rolling her eyes. “Just an appreciated boon. I don’t use stigmata the same as you would, but I won’t get into the details. Safe to say, I’ll be taking advantage of this night to whip up something extra special for the future.”

And then, like always, she was gone with the final word.

“You really aren’t as mysterious as you act,” Rory said out loud, with no response aside from what he swore was a faint echo of laughter on the breeze that swept past his ears.

Bah, whatever.

At the very least, their last few encounters had been far more cordial. Perhaps she had finally accepted that his way of doing things was just as valid, and after killing the Bird, there wasn’t much better proof.

Well then, it looks like it’s about time.

Watching the crowds below, Rory noticed that the evaluators had convened, speaking amongst themselves within the center of the main ‘hub’ of the aspirants.

“Time to see if anyone managed to whip up anything interesting.”

Marciello couldn’t deny how anxious he felt, fingers drumming as Janice rolled her eyes at him.

“Relax,” Janice said, leaning in to whisper into his ear.

“How can I relax?” Marciello shot back. Like fate itself had been looking to conspire against them, their evaluator had been none other than the Daughter of Design, the horned woman smiling lightly as she’d taken in their creation, asking a few questions before finally saying words that had echoed through their minds.

“I’m sure my father will find this interesting.”

Between his delight and then the swoon he felt when the beautiful, sculpture-esque woman had smiled softly at them after the fact, Marciello had barely felt present for some time now. With the swoon fading, something Janice at snickered at him for, all that remained now was anxiety.

Oh, E.O.N. above and World Spirit below, please, please, please, please, please, please like it.

“You stress too much,” Janice sighed.

“You stress too little,” Marciello snapped back.

Before they could say anything more, out of nowhere a figure appeared. He was tall, though not the towering giant the stories made him out to be. He was wearing a black, fur-lined frock coat, with simple garments beneath: white billowy pants cinched at the waist and hips, and a well-fitted black shirt. In Marciello’s opinion, the man looked like he was one rude comment away from discarding the coat and fighting anyone who dared infringe on his honor like one of the Kai clan elites.

Of course, not like anyone would dare do something against the Lord Founder; depending on who you asked, he ranged from the peak of existence to a godling or demigod.

Marciello himself wasn’t sure which he believed; all that mattered was that the Lord Founder was here, and as Lead Evaluator, both his and Janice’s fate were in his hands.

Perhaps a little dramatic, but at the very least, it’s a chance to stop being compared to my brother all the time.

It was a classic tale: his brother was a better-than-average adventurer, and Marciello was going to school to be a crafter. Their father made it very clear who he was happier with.

The Lord Founder shared a few words with the gathered aspirants who had made it to this point, but in all honesty, Marciello couldn’t tell you what he’d said, his mind blank.

Please. Please. Please.

Taking his time, the Lord Founder made his way through the ranks of aspirants, examining their creations and sharing words with them. For as intimidating a presence as he was, the Lord Founder never seemed to take a disappointed tone with anyone, only speaking encouraging words. The older aspirants were given more direct advice, yet even that was nothing more than constructive criticism.

As time inevitably marched on, Marciello and Janice were next up; even Janice was clearly chewing on her lip. Finishing up sharing words with the woman to their right –she’d brought in a rather beautiful looking bow— the Lord Founder at last stood before them.

“Untiered,” The Lord Founder said, a slight hitch in his voice as his eyebrows rose. “Impressive. Meaning everything you did here was directly from your own ingenuity and efforts.”

“Y-yes, sir!” Janice said, her voice faltering. Had Marciello not himself felt like he was a pile of dust on the verge of being blown away by a stray breeze, he would have teased his best friend relentlessly for the way her voice squeaked, her usual bravado gone in the face of the Lord Founder.

“A sword?” The Lord Founder asked as he looked down at the sword they’d prepared. For a moment, his face fell, slightly disappointed that the two untiered had brought something so basic, but the moment was so brief that only another tier eight would have noticed.

“Uh, not exactly,” Marciello said, his voice also faltering. “The sword is just the vehicle.”

“Oh?” The Lord Founder asked, leaning in closer as his eye briefly shimmered before a grin began to spread across his face. “Now, this is interesting. Why don’t you share the story?”

Gulping, Janice opened her mouth. “W-well, everyone understands gem crafting, forging, blacksmithing, inscriptions, or alchemy. I was in class one day when I thought about what would happen if you smashed them together. As soon as I had the idea, I brought my partner Marciello in.”

Marciello nodded, perhaps too vigorously.

“We found that, after an item has been cooled to completion, either through quenching or other means, there is still a ‘malleable’ period where certain magic-type effects can be applied. It’s uhh, not cheap, though. You have to reduce the base aspect of the material used for whatever you applied it to, in this case, a gravite sword, so we needed some extra gravite from the same source, then have a special alchemic solution absorb the reduced reagent. Refiring the weapon, the special laquer can be applied with a dusting of gem dust applied within a half-second margin of the laquer is applied, something that ended up being a two-person project.”

The Lord Founder nodded along, before tapping the blade, as a flame appeared from nowhere, licking harmlessly at his fingertip.

“Fire Tongued Laquer,” The Lord Founder stated, having read the description of the blade. “Passive fire elemental infusion, with a passive cold-point brittleness added in return.”

“We don’t exactly live in a cold climate outside of the chill we get during the dew seasons,” Marciello responded. “So, we figured it was the best and most straightforward laquer effect we could show off. Oh, and fire is typically the most common element, so that made it easier to get the needed materials.”

The Lord Founder nodded along, before looking off in the distance for a moment as if thinking. Several seconds passed like that before the semi-divine man looked back in their direction, a gleam in his eyes.

“How would you two feel about having a patron?”