Leir bristled under Thorir’s watchful gaze. For a busy man, he seemed to hover over Leir quite a bit. It had been a long time since he wasn’t afforded the privacy that he deserved as a creator.

“The shaft of the device is too small. It’s not going to support any moving parts.”

“It doesn’t have to. I’ve told you, it’s just to brace the machine against the user. The mana is going to be poured in through the metal conductors.”

“What makes you think that will even work?”

“They’re conductors. They absorb energy. As long as the metaphor is sound, it should work.”

Thorir snorted and Leir flared his nostrils. He told himself that this was just what geniuses were like. A few days of this wouldn’t be unbearable.

“I had my doubts about you, Miss, but you are clearly an expert at this, despite your age.”

“I’m older than I look.”

“Now that I know you’re capable of holding your own, I wouldn’t mind having a pretty face around more often. Certainly breaks up the monotony.”

Leir was focused on screwing in a nut and bolt.

“You should consider taking a break so that we can think about getting something to eat.”

“Mhm,” Leir replied, not listening. “It’s being difficult, but I think that it’s going to function without falling apart this time.”

He needed the device to generate fire when mana was pushed through it. To that end, he’d attached a little piece of flint and steel to the operational end of the device, hoping to invoke a metaphor for starting fires like Burrow had talked about. It was shaped like a barrel, meant to be held almost like a shotgun, with copper plating toward the operational end that mana could be poured into.

Several small local energy crystals were placed on the inside of the device to facilitate the mana flow. They were weaker than the energy crystals from his own world, but they served well as catalysts. Blowing out the energy crystals had been the biggest problem so far in testing.

“Let’s take it out back.”

There was a small yard behind the workshop surrounded on all sides by other stone buildings. Leir placed the device on a small pedestal that they’d set up, pointing it toward the middle of the yard. Thorir stood back while Leir placed his hands on the conductive plates.

“In three, two, one!”

Leir poured mana through his hands into the device, feeling it heat up in his hands. Sparks flew from the end as the conductive plates grew warm. A jolt of electricity arced and hit Leir in the arm, causing him to cry out and let go of the machine.

Thorir swore.

“No, I think I know what went wrong,” Leir insisted, holding his injured arm to his chest. He opened the compartment and pulled a small tool from his pocket. It took a little bit of fiddling with the wires, but he was confident that this would fix it.

Placing his hands on the device again, despite the burn on his arm, Leir said, “Ready to go again.”

This time, the device sputtered and sparked, but after a moment a small flame burst out of the end.

“It works!”

“That it does!” Thorir slapped Leir hard on the back. “Some wine to celebrate!”

First, Leir bandaged up his injured arm. The wine was only mediocre and left a bitter taste in Leir’s mouth. He drank it greedily all the same. Leir leaned back against the wall and stared at his creation with all the love of a parent toward their newborn.

Thorir was into his second glass and rambling. “They’re going to be talking about this in universities for decades! Possibly centuries!”

Leir nodded absentmindedly. This was going to change the world. This was going to change the world. He could change this world just as he’d changed his own, but wouldn’t be around to see the fruits of his labors.

Another drink to distract him.

“I need to show my friends the device.”

Thorir grunted and replied, “Don’t let me stop you, but I’m not interested in making any new friends.”

That afternoon, Leir and his friends gathered in the yard behind the workshop where Leir set up the device. He’d only told them that he’d been working on something that they needed to see. Everyone was staring at him with some mix of confusion and concern. Even Melisende had deigned to show up.

“This is going to be really exciting!” His tail was wagging frantically. “It took me the better part of several days, but I promise that it was entirely worth it!”

Lotus Dust leaned in close and asked, “Leir, what exactly is this?”

“Please do not look into the operational end of the device,” Leir said, pushing her away. “Now, watch and be amazed.”

He placed his hands on the flamethrower and sent a small surge of mana through the plates. Again, the machine stuttered and spat out sparks before releasing a small stream of flames. Leir let go, afraid to overload the machine, and turned to face his friends with a broad grin.

Everyone started talking at once.

“That’s… That’s unbelievable!” Melisende said.

“Woah! Can you make a version small enough for me to use?”

“This changes everything,” Lotus Dust said.

“I knew you were spending your time well.” Baldovin gave Leir a pat on the head. “This is incredibly impressive.”

Leir beamed.

“I don’t… How did you do this?” Melisende asked, stepping back and shrinking down a little. “How could anybody make something like this?”

“Oh, well, it was just a simple matter of creating a conduit for mana that could be… Not important. What is important is that, when I create a handheld version, I’ll be able to use my fire and strength magic at the same time.”

“So you can make it smaller!” Whisper flew right up to Leir’s face. “Can you possibly make it small enough for me, too? This is so cool! I don’t have to know fire magic to use it, do I?”

“No, anybody should be able to use it. Miniaturization on that level might be difficult with the quality of tools available in this world, but I can certainly try.”

Baldovin nodded. “This will certainly give us an advantage over our targets if you can develop it into something more portable. You said it required mana to operate? It seems unlikely that magi would be willing to use something so bulky. Once you’ve perfected this, I’m interested to see what other magical tools you come up with.”

Leir’s chest puffed out.

Lotus Dust stepped forward and said, “I’ll admit, now that I’ve seen this, I am a little less reluctant to believe that you’re actually from another universe. The thought scares me more than anything I’ve ever learned before. Even if it’s not true, I have no idea what to make of you. That being said, I’d really like for you to keep working on this and see if you can refine it enough to make it combat-ready.”

“Really?”

“Yes. I’ve been thinking about you, actually. You’re struggling with developing your abilities very far, but seemed to pick up the basics of the strength domain quickly. I think it would be best if you were to start learning some more domains that I and the others use. That way, in combat, we have someone who can use the same magic as us for backup.”

“Absolutely!” He grabbed Lotus Dust in a hug, then released her quickly as his face began to burn. He mumbled, “Sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”

“It’s… fine.”

Leir turned back to his machine, placing a gentle hand on it.

“I’m excited. It turns out that I’m not entirely cut off from being an inventor, after all. Even if it takes me a while to improve my magic, I’m able to contribute after all.

“Moreover, once I’m able to reproduce these, I can sell them to magi in need and turn a profit. I’ll be able to pay off all my debts in Silverleaf and pay the rest of you back for helping me out. I can leave this world without any regrets.”

Lotus Dust and Baldovin exchanged a glance.

It was Whisper, settling into Leir’s hair, who asked, “Why do you need to do that, anyway?”

“Because it’s the right thing to do.”

“Leir,” Lotus Dust began slowly. “Has anyone actually said that you’re in their debt? We’ve talked about how afraid you are to accept help. Are you sure that you’re not just pressuring yourself to avoid dealing with that.”

“Nonsense.”

But Baldovin said, “Leir, none of us expect you to pay us anything for letting you come with us. You’ve been helpful and a pleasure to have.”

“I don’t see what’s wrong with trying to earn my own way through life.”

“Leir…” Melisende rubbed her forehead. “You only ever talk about clearing your debts. It’s hard to believe that you see the value in helping other people at all. What happens if we need help from you, Leir? Are you going to charge us for the support, as well?”

“No, of course—”

He clamped his mouth shut. Of course he should expect people to pay him back for his kindness. This was why he didn’t have friends; they invited in weakness and made him doubt himself. If he hadn’t agreed to help Marielle, he wouldn’t find himself in this situation to begin with.

“What’s important is that the device works and it shouldn’t take too long to perfect.” Turning to Burrow, he grinned and said, “I couldn’t have done this without you. It was your lesson on witchcraft that gave me the insight necessary to put the device together, though I did manage to construct it without using any consumable materials.”

Burrow looked pale, and Leir’s expression fell.

“Why… How could you…? You can’t do this. This is a violation of everything that witchcraft stands for. There’s no personal experimentation, there’s no sacrifice.” His face contorted in anger. “You can’t use this. You have to stop. I can’t believe that my knowledge was used to pervert my magical philosophy like this.”

He turned and stormed away, leaving Leir with an ache in his chest.

“He’ll be okay,” Lotus Dust said, placing a hand on Leir’s shoulder. “Don’t take it too seriously. It takes some people a while to adjust to change.”

“Yeah, exactly.” Leir blinked until his vision stopped blurring. “I’ll keep working on this and trying to perfect the device.”

 

Melisende sat head-down at the bar, nursing a headache. Everything had gotten a lot more complicated since Leir had entered her life. She didn’t know what she was doing wrong that her gods wanted to punish her so harshly by latching her to him.

“So, can you actually eat or drink anything?”

“Why don’t you go wilt?” Melisende snapped, sitting up straight.

Summer Scarlet reeled a little, then scowled.

“I’m sorry. It’s not you. I never wanted to leave my home and Leir just makes me so tired all the time. Everything is his fault.”

“Isn’t that a little harsh?”

“You wouldn’t think so if you knew him.” She sighed. “The only good thing to come of this is that I’ve seen some new sights and gotten a little less homesick in the process.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

After a moment, Melisende said, “He seems to lie about everything. I think. To be honest, I’m not even sure what I believe anymore. He scares me so much, sometimes, charging into deadly situations with reckless abandon and… If you had been there today and seen what he’d built, you’d have no idea what to make of him.

“Then, he’s remarkably ungrateful and disrespectful. Leir is the antithesis of everything I was taught to stand for. I don’t understand why people put up with him, my father least of all. Patience is a virtue, but you have to have firm boundaries, too.”

“In my experience, people don’t typically lie about things unless they’re afraid of getting in trouble or simply don’t care about other people. I’ve seen Leir as he’s walking around here and talking to people, and he doesn’t strike me as the second type. He gets along with people most of the time, so if he is lying about himself, it sounds like he comes from a pretty screwed up place that he doesn’t want to talk about very much.”

“Why not make up a happy history to lie about, then? Why something so obviously fanciful and power-hungry?”

“For the power, dear. If he spent his entire life feeling powerless, he’s going to want to convince himself and everyone else that he’s not. Regardless, it sounds like he’s not used to having people he can trust or who can be a good influence on him. Like you said, patience is a virtue, and Leir needs a lot of support if he’s going to grow as a person.”

Melisende didn’t respond. She glanced over to the table where everyone except Burrow was currently sitting and eating. Leir seemed to be enjoying himself.

“I’ll think about what you said,” she told Summer Scarlet, standing up. “Thank you.”

“No problem, dear.”

She returned to her room and sat on the bed to meditate. For a bit, Melisende shifted between alignments of her focal energies in rote practice while her mind wandered. Her father had clearly believed that he could be a good influence on Leir, though it may not have done any good. Would following in his footsteps help Leir at all or would she be making herself vulnerable to someone who was just going to take advantage of her? Was this a test from a god to make her stronger? Did any god care that much about her when she wasn’t even a real elf, barely even a real spirit?

When Leir entered the room, he collapsed onto the bed and screamed into his pillow.

“Are you alright? It seemed like today was good for you.”

“Bite me.”

Melisende fumed, but pushed down her anger and said, “Keeping negative feelings inside can make it harder to process them. I’m not going to make you pay a fine for talking about your feelings. You’re safe here. You can trust me.”

“…Today was long and it brought up a lot of complicated feelings. I don’t want to think about it.”

“Facing conflict is the only way to meaningfully grow as a person. Even if it’s hard, you’ll feel better once you’re on the other side.”

“…Yeah, I guess so.”

“Do you want to—?”

“No, I don’t want to talk about it.”

Melisende nodded, then closed her eyes and returned to her meditation.