From Blade To Spell

Aaron stepped into the shop with Edrin close behind.

The rich scent of freshly cut wood filled the air, earthy and sharp.

Inside, a handful of workers moved with quiet focus. 

Saws buzzed, sending fine wood dust cascading through the air like golden mist.

Hammers rang out, rhythmic and steady, echoing off the timbered walls.

Torvald showed no expression as he said,

"Sir Aaron, Mr. Edrin. Please follow me to my office."

He led them to a small, dimly lit room.

The walls were lined with leafy notes, each painted with inked diagrams, sketches of mechanisms, furniture joints, and abstract designs that hinted at invention.

Aaron's eyes widened in amazement.

Edrin, meanwhile, looked around with a puzzled expression, trying to make sense of the scattered brilliance.

Once they were seated, Torvald stepped into the adjoining room.

He unlocked a wooden chest and carefully retrieved a stack of leaves bound loosely together, not a book in the traditional sense, but a manual of mastery.

Unlike the scattered notes in his office, this collection was precise and methodical.

Each page held detailed diagrams, accompanied by clear explanations, a guide that could teach any literate craftsman how to replicate Torvald's creations.

After one last glance at the book, Torvald stepped out of the room and entered the study.

Aaron stood there, absorbed in a diagram, his eyes tracing every line with quiet fascination.

Torvald didn't speak, he didn't want to disturb him.

But Edrin, growing restless, broke the silence.

"Mr. Torvald, can we leave now?" he asked, his tone slightly impatient.

Aaron blinked, pulled from his thoughts.

He turned to Torvald, who approached and handed him the stack of leaves.

Aaron opened it casually, but as his eyes scanned the pages, the intricate diagrams, the precise instructions, his expression shifted.

He understood immediately: this wasn't just a book.

It was a lifetime of work, distilled into ink and paper.

He held it carefully, then tucked it inside his clothes with deliberate care.

Under the puzzled gaze of both men, Aaron spoke,

"Edrin, Mr. Torvald, the plan to visit the slave market must be postponed."

He paused, then added,

"Mr. Torvald, I'd like you to come with me to visit Lord Alaric."

Torvald was confused, but he didn't feel threatened.

He had already entrusted Aaron with his most precious possession.

And something in Aaron's voice told him this was important.

He nodded slowly.

"Okay, Sir Aaron. I will follow you."

Edrin looked puzzled by the sudden change of plans.

A hint of regret lingered in his voice as he said,

"Aaron, you missed quite a bit today, man. But since it's urgent, I won't press you. Just tell me, what time will you go fishing tomorrow?"

Aaron responded without hesitation,

"Let's start after the first sunlight hits the ground."

Edrin nodded, accepting the answer.

"Alright then. But where can I find you?"

Aaron replied casually,

"I think I'll be staying at the Castle."

Edrin didn't say anything more, but his eyes held a quiet understanding.

A few minutes later, Aaron arrived at the Castle, with Torvald close behind.

The guards didn't stop them.

They had already been informed of Aaron's arrival.

Torvald followed with a slightly nervous expression, his steps hesitant but steady.

Before Aaron could ask for Lord Alaric, a sharp voice rang out from behind.

"Aaron… so you finally decided to return to the Castle!"

It was Alice.

Her tone was resentful, her eyes cold.

Aaron turned, surprised but not shaken.

He responded with a hint of excitement,

"Miss Alice, where is Lord Alaric? I have something important to discuss with him."

Alice snorted, her voice sharp with resentment.

"What important things? Did you forget you were supposed to guide the people in making the parachute?"

Aaron's expression shifted to one of understanding. 

"Miss Alice, please don't worry. Making a parachute is simple, it won't take much time. I'll explain everything later. But for now, please take me to Lord Alaric."

Alice paused, her irritation fading into curiosity.

Torvald, meanwhile, looked puzzled.

The word parachute was foreign to him, something he'd never heard before.

Alice nodded slowly.

"Alright. But tonight, you must tell me everything. I can't wait to try it out."

She turned and began walking.

"Come with me. My father is in his study."

Aaron and Torvald followed her up the grand staircase to the second floor.

Evening had settled over the castle.

Servants moved quietly through the halls, pouring oil into lamps and hanging them along the walls.

The flickering light cast long shadows, giving the stone corridors a warm, golden glow.

Torvald walked silently, still unsure of what awaited him. 

But he trusted Aaron.

After reaching the study room, Alice knocked twice on the heavy wooden door and called out,

"Father, Aaron is here. He says it's something important."

Inside, Lord Alaric sat at his desk, reviewing the latest expenditures for his territory.

He paused, carefully placing the parchment notes into a drawer and locking it with a brass key.

His voice came through the door, calm and composed,

"Alright. You may come in."

Alice opened the door and stepped aside, allowing Aaron and Torvald to enter.

The study was warm, lit by oil lamps and lined with shelves of scrolls and ledgers.

A faint scent of ink and old paper lingered in the air.

Torvald's steps were cautious, his heart beating a little faster.

Aaron, however, walked forward with quiet confidence, his hand resting over the book tucked inside his shirt.

Lord Alaric smiled warmly, gesturing to the chair across from him.

"Aaron, what important matter brings you here today?"

He motioned again.

"Sit down first, then we can talk."

Aaron bowed respectfully and took his seat.

His voice was calm, but resolute.

"Lord Alaric, I've come today on behalf of Mr. Torvald, to seek justice for him."

Before Lord Alaric could respond, Aaron reached into his shirt and carefully pulled out the bundle of leaves.

He placed it gently on the study table, the pages slightly rustling as they settled.

"Lord Alaric," Aaron began, his voice steady,

"You may have heard of Mr. Torvald, the genius inventor. This book contains his life's work. Every design, every breakthrough, every sleepless night poured into ink and parchment."