A black carriage with no passengers stopped at a building in the city. The coachman reins back the two horses to a stop and gets off to walk inside, the crest of the Chamber household embellishing the carriage door.
It was still cold and frost covered the stone brick streets, so he was careful to mind his step going inside.
He carried with him a small wooden box, as well as a letter he took out from his coat.
The building he walked into was an office building, with even receptionists standing behind a counter who called out to the coachman.
"Welcome. How may I help you?"
"I am here to deliver an item to the owner."
The coachman was led to the owner's personal office by the receptionist who knocked on the door.
"Sir Oswald, you have a package."
"Bring it in." Said a man's voice on the other side.
The receptionist opened the door and walked away, leaving the coachman to be unsure of what to do for a moment, before he finally walked inside to greet the owner.
"Ahem... Greetings sir. I am here on behalf of Lord Henry Malforn, from the Chamber estate in the Finefield county."
"Finefield, huh? All right. What is it?"
The coachman placed the wooden box on the owner's desk.
"His lordship wants you to have you look at the bookmarked page."
With two fingers, he slid the box towards himself before taking out the journal and opening it to the bookmarked page.
He glossed over it as though it were a chore, but it didn't take long for his interest to cause him to sit upright in his seat and look closer and closer at the pages.
"My lord..." He said with a gasp. "Why would he send me this?"
"He wants you to confirm whatever it is that is written down."
"Confirm them? Well then, I do. I damn well confirm this. This... This is fascinating. This will revolutionize transportation! If not more... The possibilities to implement this idea... It could rival the invention of the trebuchet. Where did you come from again? Finefield?"
"Ah, yes, yes. Finefield, sir. The estate of Vindor Chamber, third son of the Duke of Cezarch."
"Damn... Nobles country... Could you perhaps get me an invitation to visit the owner of this journal? Or just merely, pass on the word that I wish to meet."
"...Well... I shall pass on the word, but it will take me two days time to return, or if I don't, please take that as he declined."
"Of course, of course. Ah! It's late, I doubt you will be returning the journey in the dark and with the ice. Allow me to set you up in a room, my accommodation. And do allow me a moment to write a letter for you to deliver, it would explain better."
The coachman couldn't understand the change in tune the man had. He questioned what could have possibly been written in the journal, but knew it was not his place to look.
Upon the next afternoon, the coachman returned to the Chamber's estate to tell Lord Henry of what transpired and handed him the letter he was to deliver.
"He what? He actually said that it could revolutionize transportation?! Those were his exact words?!"
"Y-Yes, milord. He said that it was... Ehm... The trebuchet, that it could rival the invention of the trebuchet."
"The trebuchet?!"
Moments of silence passed as Lord Henry eyed the journal with an uncertain look.
He pondered how to proceed before finally deciding.
"Please return to inform them I will meet with them personally."
Unaware were they that Erik was listening to them behind the corner.
He was content with the way things were going, but something that he couldn't help and felt pestered by was the way that his grandfather and even parents would elude in explaining anything to him.
They saw him as a child who would not understand the actions of an adult, but he knew eventually it would play out as he wanted.
It took five long days of just waiting around for his grandfather to return.
Lord Henry had returned not alone, but with Sir Oswald behind him.
"Please inform my daughter of my return. I wish to have a meeting with them in the parlor."
"Yes, milord."
One of the maids made her way down the hall to the library.
Inside was Erik reading as usual, and Nomay, who was waiting on him in a nearby seat.
"Young master, your grandfather has returned. He has requested for the entire family to gather in the parlor room."
They made their way to the parlor room, which was the room used for conversation, or the reception of a guest. Erik knew it was the latter half.
As he approached the parlor room, with Nomay's steps following close behind, he could already hear muffled voices speaking from behind the tall, dark oak door.
Nomay quickly made her way ahead to open the door for Erik, which caused the room to grow silent as everyone turned to look toward them.
"Erik!" Lord Henry said as he stood up. "Come, sit. Sir Oswald, this is my grandson, Erik. He is the one to who the journal belongs."
Sir Oswald flinched upon hearing that.
"You mean..."
"Yes. Erik wrote down everything. The ideas are his."
"I must say I am rather surprised."
Sir Oswald stood up to greet Erik as he was making his way to his seat, holding out his hand for Erik to take.
"I am Geoffry Oswald. It is a pleasure to meet you."
Erik took his hand and shook it, then the two sat down.
"Yes, now then. Erik. Sir Oswald here is the expert I had your journal sent to."
"Ah, yes. I am firstly a merchant who deals in the sale of carriages, containers, and even steeds. Your design was very well drawn out, impressively so."
"Excuse me..." Vindor cut in. "What exactly is it that he designed?"
"Well, it is a part, that if constructed well, perhaps with a few tweaks, and then implemented into the design of one of our carriages, could revolutionize not only transportation, but perhaps more, such as military use, or general construction. So far, it has no name, but if implemented into a carriage, it could make the ride for the passenger, smoother. No more constantly shaking and bumping when riding across stone or gravel."
"Really now?"
"Yes. I shall be blunt, Lord Chamber. As his father, and as he is still a child, it is your decision. I would like to ask for the rights to implement and sell carriages with this new invention. Of course, you will be paid a negotiable percentage of all proceeds, and rights of ownership will be his, as he is the creator."
Vindor was taken aback, and from the expressions of everyone else in the room, they were anticipating an answer. However, before he could muster up an answer, Lord Henry gave his opinion.
"I believe we should accept and allocate all of the proceeds into a bank account for Erik. I believe it is only fair as it was his idea, and it would do well to secure his future."
"Ah, yes... Henry... I believe you should have the say in this. I want what's best for Erik, and I know you do too, and honestly, I don't know much about trade or law, but you do. So if that's what you think we should do, then I will agree."
"Thank you, and it is. But, I do think we should get Erik's thoughts on this. It is his future we are talking about. Erik, are you all right with your idea being-"
"Yes." Erik responded without hesitation.
"Well, all right then."
"Perfect! I have had contracts prepared, with blank lines for negotiation."
In the end, the contract was signed, with even Erik writing his signature across the final line on the last page.
With an eager smile, Sir Oswald took the contract, respectfully said his farewells, then left, leaving Erik and his family to continue in conversation.
They all knew what needed to be spoken about, and Lord Henry was the one to voice his concern as he was most worried about Erik wasting away his future.
"Celia. Vindor. I believe Erik should attend school. He should be able to truly match his intellect with an education suitable to him, else his gift may be wasted."
"Of course, father. I agree... Though there is a part of me that is against it." Celia gently placed her hands upon Erik's. "Sending him to school would mean he would be sent far away for who knows how long, and a boy needs his mother."
"I understand, but don't you want Erik to have a bright future? He could grow up to be a very important person one day. He could join his majesty's court or be a scholar. From this alone, he could go down in history as a brilliant inventor!"
Celia stood up in a fit and with a raised voice she said: "He is a child, father!"
Lord Henry was quick to correct his words.
"Yes. You are right Celia. Forgive me. I have overstepped."
Celia took a deep breath in through her nostrils and exhaled. She sat back down and composed herself, though with slight worry hindering her expression.
"No... I am sorry, father. You too, are right. If Erik is truly as gifted as you say, then it would be selfish of me to keep him home." She once again placed her warm and soft hands on Erik's as she asked him. "Erik, what is it that you want to do?"
Hope welled up within her that he would say to stay, but Erik couldn't care less about such a thing as he bluntly and almost immediately responded.
"I want to attend school."
Celia could feel her heart sink, and even his father and siblings felt troubled by his answer. They believed he was just being a child, not considering the feelings of his mother, which was not far from the truth.
In the end, they accepted his wanting to go to school and did all they could to make it happen.
Later, during the mid of winter, Erik returned to train the lamia he kept underground as had become routine for the many weeks passed.
She had become increasingly obedient and intelligent due to Erik's training, to the point that she almost seemed humane, or at least more than a mindless animal scrounging for scraps of meat off of instinct. She was now able to hold a conversation fully and understood the common tongue better than most peasants.
Erik was one for perfection and strongly disliked imperfection and fault; no, he despised it, like a small stain on a beautiful piece of art.
Before him, the lamia focused her will, and sight in between her wide-opened clasping hands.
After a few moments, sparks of light began to flash before a full flame burst to life.
Erik watched her with a cold and calculating look. "Good. Now we continue to the next step.