Advent of Dragonfire [A LitRPG Adventure]

Even a few days later, the stink in my laboratory hasn't entirely left. I thank my past self for never putting any points into the perception attribute. Likely, it would only make my discomfort worse.

The gauntlets sit on the table in front of me, pushed aside to the corner of my active workspace, a long, scraping line marking their passage. For the first few days, moving the heavy pair around without marking the wood had been a big concern, but not anymore. It is simply too exhausting to do.

"...made a flow through the effervescent membrane. This, coupled with fajsa irregularities of the second and third primary octaves, clearly demonstrates the impossibility of this…"

"Stop," I say, holding up a hand and smoothing some hair out of my face. Galea, hovering in the air next to me, stops her recitation of Delving into the Delved. "Fajsa, what does that mean?"

"Occilations," she chirps.

I nod, muttering something incoherent to myself, trying to commit the word to memory. This is our routine, has been for the past few days now. The spirit is perfectly capable of memorizing anything I task her with as long as I show it to her once. Before trying to pick up the local language, I thought that I might be as well. Either my memory has a poor spot with languages, or my memory is not as perfect as I once thought it to be. It matters little; with Galea by my side, she can recite entire books to help me pick up the technical language. If the volumes I have picked up in the city are anything to go by, that will be the biggest issue.

"Continue," I tell her.

"This, coupled with oscillation irregularities of the second and third primary octaves, clearly demonstrates the impossibility of this material to be used in any sort of enhancement enchantment. While the trend is common in diaphanous material, it is not enough to be declared a rule. As is well documented, materials sourced from monsters are often primary octave stable, allowing for enhancement enchantments. Miller's theorem on octave stability as a prerequisite for apparition is only of tertiary merit. True, it is the physical makeup of these aberrations that allows them to create physical phenomena beyond what their material makeup should allow; an aspect of enchantment is necessary to facilitate this. To call it a rule, however, misses the mark. All this said, it is my suggestion to not attempt to make armor from insect wings, no matter how pretty the material."

"A bit obvious," I mutter, turning the pliers with both hands to sufficiently wrap the metal. The wire I bought is far too thick and requires some real elbow grease to make pliable. Something to know for future projects. "Though making equipment out of butterfly wings does have a certain appeal. Travis does say there that there are some diaphanous materials that could be used."

Galea balks. "Why would you want bug wings when you already have the resplendent wings of dragonkind?"

"It would sell well," I say, grabbing my rag and wiping my forehead. There isn't any sweat there; my body has simply decided to stop doing that much anymore. It doesn't stop me from feeling like I need to wipe my face. "Continue."

As Galea launches back into her recitation of Travis' book, where he discusses the different classifications of various monster parts, I turn my attention inward. Over the last few days of nonstop work, I have managed to complete the bulk of the component crafting. There are far more tiny mechanisms involved in this craft than I have ever attempted before, and as I move to etching runes, picking up my gold-plated etching wand, I grab the nearest component.

Before I even think about applying the first rune to the flattened piece of silver and gold coils wrapped in on themselves, I look for any imperfections. The piece is what is referred to as a transformer in the realm of enchantment, and it is the first one I have ever made myself.

Compared to what I am attempting to make now, all of my previous enchantments are simple things. That isn't to put down my previous work. In the last few weeks, I have learned that all of my previous enchantments are classified as tier one enchantments, magical creations that are of a sufficiently low power that they can function for incredible lengths of time with only the initial power imbued into them. Most of my equipment is of that level. Inside the pieces, differently affixed mana runs through the material, meeting at certain points or diving into runes that allow it access to the material that it is a part of. The effects of these pieces are stable; they continue on indefinitely and could function for decades without a noticeable degradation in their function. The reason for this is simple: the magic inside isn't powerful enough to be drained over time.

The theory behind it took me a while to get my head around. The analogies that the various book writers I have been reading use to describe how magic and mana work are endless. The most helpful to me described mana as similar to air. Not air mana, though that is incredibly important for a lot of craft itself, but simply as air. Air doesn't like to be contained; the more of it that is inside an isolated location, the more it wants to spread out and dissipate. Magic is similar in that way in some respects. The more of a concentration that is in one place, the more it is liable to dissipate. Unlike air, however, it does not merely float away. It runs through the array of an enchantment, creating its phenomena as it is designed to, but some of the power is lost. That, in and of itself, is a relatively small price to pay for the increase of power in an enchantment. It means that there must be a way for the enchantment to recoup the loss of magic, a way for more mana to be introduced into the system once again. Thus, the a need for the transformer that I am working on.

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I take a long breath out, steadying my hand as I lift the etching wand. Next to me, Galea goes on about monster-sourced metals and their viability, but I can hardly pay attention. I'll need to ask her to repeat the part later. The tip of the wand falls onto the painted surface of the first rune I have marked on the outside of the transformer, the magic in the wand pushing into the soft metal and scoring it.

It shouldn't be much of a wonder that the more powerful the enchantment that one creates, the more complex the process becomes. To restore mana to a device, a gathering node is required. These are relatively simple things; most gemstones are capable of completing the task. Something about their makeup allows for them to easily cage mana that seeps into their surface; it is easy for the magic to go in, but not to come out. I pause, tasking myself to recall exactly why that occurs, but fail. It isn't as if I didn't read the necessary material that explains it. I simply do not understand the advanced chemical theory that goes into the explanation.

Finding out the reason that so many pieces of enchantment have uncovered gemstones laid into their surface gave me a bit of satisfaction. For the longest time, I thought it was merely about fashion. While that is certainly part of it, discovering that there was a good reason for it filled me with a sense of discovery.

Once the mana seeps into the gemstone that serves as the gathering node, it moves into the array of the enchantment through the metal of its setting. As these gems are most often open to the air, the mana that they absorb is, most obviously, air mana. Air mana is the foundation of almost all of the enchanting that occurs in Faeth for this very reason. The Vivantee Empire, an empire of people who live beneath the water, has developed its own system of enchantment based on water mana, small wonder.

The air mana now introduced into the array of the enchantment flows toward where the magic is being dispersed, following the internal pressure of the system. If all enchantments simply functioned with air mana as all of their components, this would be fine. However, since that is not the case, a component that converts air mana into the desired affixed mana is necessary: a transformer.

The transformer that I am currently working on is a bundle of silver and gold wires that will be infused with mana once the enchantment is active. Currently, it is nothing more than a stress headache. The runes I place on the surface of the component must be drawn on every single wire of the bundle, a set of three, each with a different interaction with air mana. The abundance of air mana is responsible for its ubiquitous use in Faethian enchantment, and because of that, the enchanters of Faeth have become expert at exploiting its properties. Centuries of trial and error have revealed that if air mana is sufficiently accelerated, it begins to lose its concept.

The reason for that air itself is made of many different gaseous chemicals, something I never knew. If air itself is accelerated appropriately, these gases will separate, and so the mana follows suit. If the mana is accelerated and then allowed to sit in its differentiated state, it will develop into distinct mana types, one for each of the chemicals. Yes, apparently chemical mana is a thing. However, the runes on the transformer do more than simply accelerate the air mana through the array; they also influence it. The final piece of the transformer is the desired mana that one is trying to convert the air mana into. As the air mana loses its grasp on its own concept, the nearby mana, fire in the case of this particular transformer, will overwrite it. Thus, the component carries out its function.

It took me weeks to understand this concept enough to even begin attempting to create this part of the device, and hours of hard labor to even reach the etching stage. The more I learn, the more the idea of creating a myriad of enchantments to sell and grow rich from grows more and more distant. Well, maybe that was always distant. For now, I will be happy just completing this first enchantment.

The door to my laboratory flies open. Or rather, it would, if it did not immediately collide with a book-stacked chair halfway through its swing and bounce away. Books slide away, clattering to the ground in a bookslide. It takes all of my considerable concentration not to flinch at the racket. Releasing a breath I didn't know I was holding, I set the etching wand to the side, and turn toward the doorway. I have to squint due to the blaring light of the setting sun filtering in through the archway. Dovik stands there, cast in a dark silhouette by the harsh light, a smile on his face.

"You aren't ready?" he asks, seeing me.

I gesture at the laboratory around me. "I'm busy."

"You are the one who told me to come get you," he says, wagging a finger. As my eyes adjust to the sudden light, I can see his getup. The man is wearing the most ostentatious set of clothes that I have ever seen him in, and considering who I am looking at, that says a lot. The outfit is an intricate piece of blue velvet that looks to have been embroidered with literal silver. The coat of velvet is cinched close to his body to show off his strong figure; the shirt and pants beneath are made of a sparkling white material. The man almost shines as he steps into my darkened space.

My mind finally catches up to his words. "I said we are going out on Fifthday," I remind him. Like everything in Faeth, even the days are numbered rather than named. For some reason, I actually find this the most helpful of their anal changes to common sense.

"It is Fifthday," he quips back to me.

I squint at him, my mind trying to find the lie. I started working in here Seconday. There is no way it could be three days later already. I've only eaten…Looking to the side, finding the piled plates of food I have been secreting into my inventory when out on the town, the idea of so many days passing doesn't seem like such a stretch.

"I'm not ready," I say, carefully setting the unfinished transformer on the table.

Dovik rolls his eyes. "Really?"

"Just give me a few minutes to bathe," I tell him, pushing my chair out from the table. My legs and back crack something terrible as I pull myself to stand.

"So, an hour or so?"

"Rude." I scoot around the man, making my way toward my bedroom.

"It is your friend that we are going to make late," Dovik calls after me as I turn the corner into the room. "Exeter's balls, I hate being late."

I shiver as I start the water for my bath. Over the past weeks in Faeth, I have only bothered to store a token number of outfits in the closet rather than my vault. This will be my first real night socializing out in the city, and so I have something special prepared for the occasion. Jasper invited me to go and see an academy bar with him. If anything that I have heard about the academy is true, then tonight will prove to be entertaining, at the least. As I slip into the warm water, allowing my frustration to be washed away, I wonder briefly if the man would be fine with my bringing a friend. I plan to bring Dovik either way; I just want him to be fine with it.