"Inquiry: What can I do for you, Master?" Out of the blue, the fairies froze in their tracks. It was easy to explain why.
The sky above suffered from a nasty crack spanning all across Lylanlone, from which the silhouette of a giant automaton peeped through from beyond.
The little I saw awoke old memories. This was the war form of the Eastern Central Node just as I had designed it millennia ago, nothing ripped, nothing changed.
Therefore, the sheer pressure and presence it exuded were fundamentally different from what we had been suffering from during the fight.
Which was a testament to just how ridiculously underpowered the Central Node had been during our scuffle. And of how little it thought of us, the invaders.
The skies above Lylanlone started to flicker and a translucent barrier came into being. Starting from all four cardinal directions, it rapidly grew, closing off space as the powers met in the middle.
"Four different interpretations of the dark element... why doesn't this surprise me, Opal Woodpuff." "What art thee aft'r."
"Isn't that self-explanatory?" And addressing the Central Node I demanded, "haven't asked for a war machine, why bother?
Sure, it ain't easy taking up these armaments." The giant automaton flickered out of existence, the crack closed in on itself.
Then the space beside me fluctuated, an abrupt tearing noise was heard and through it stepped a messy old man.
Sloppily clad in loose work clothes pattered in orange and brown, which were marked by the many tasks assigned to it, it had a pair of ridiculously mismatched rubber boots on its feet.
A toolbelt around the waist with all the tools necessary for professional gardening lined up neatly, gloves, a dirty rug draped over the shoulder reading *Sovereign Gardener* in the Language of Old and thin neon green sunglasses complemented its look.
The personification of the Central Node I had designed, the very embodiment of what I hoped it'd become.
Though... there was a notion of unhappiness deeply hidden in these furrowed silicon-based brows. And that was not all.
Sovereign Gardener also sported a long ochre beard messy enough to mistake for a thornbush, partially hiding its nose and the entirety of its mouth, not originally part of the design.
I wondered why. "Inquiry: What has the Master called me for?" I briefly noted how puzzled Opal Woodpuff appeared to be for Sovereign Gardener to simply ignore her restrictions.
I could answer her unvoiced questions, but for the time being there was no need to. It'd left me in hot waters all alone while controlling the situation from the sidelines.
I had yet to forget... Or rather, with it coming to my aide, I seemed to have awoken from my stupor. Stupid old me... What was I, a needy teenager?
Given that only some of the Races ended up like that and Eternals were safe from such hormone-driven hogwash, I didn't know what to think of myself any longer.
"Fucking identity crisis..." "Master?" "Nothing. Tell, what do we have in store? List possessions with no strings attached."
I saw no need to fight my ass off for some meagre returns just to silence this crowd and get away with it.
My time was limited and worth far more. "Include within your consideration items with value that come close to..." The list I mentioned grew and grew.
No longer was it only limited to what the resentful fat tradesfairy had informed me about. All merchant losses were added too. Each one's two cents.
Or should I say dozens of cents? Sovereign Gardener listened silently, humming and whirring from time to time as calculation models and formulas flashed through its eyes.
"Proposal: Sell off a third of the garden." The answer wasn't something I expected to hear, prompting me to ask for confirmation.
"Elaborate on your conclusion." "Reply: Certainly. The accumulated worth of listed items is magnified by a premium.
Cultivation resources specific to species are beyond measure, demanding specialised filters and subjective appraisal." Listening to it, I realised something.
It was then that I started laughing unbridled. The sheer ridiculous situation at hand made me furious. "Opal. Woodpuff. Neutrality at all times is ill-advised."
"I seeth not how I art requir'd to int'rf're h're." I was damn sure the ancient fairy knew fairly well. Yet it chose not to explain a damn thing.
What could I take away from such an attitude? Only one fact. "Listen," the anger in my voice grew, and the tone I spoke in reached the freezing point, "do I look gullible?"
Suddenly, Nova Twinkleflame didn't seem all that off-putting. The younger ancient fairy was simpler, more perverted and plainer but came up with no opportunistic schemes.
"You sure were of great help. I'm in your debt, too. But!" I was just this short on unlocking my first authority, razing the place to the ground. Or asking nicely, sure the automaton would be happy to please.
The tradesfairies smelled the gunpowder first, backing off immediately as my immediate vicinity grew vacant. "You are out of your mind.
It is me who owns the place, not you." It squirmed. "The losses this time around are substantial, but only if true. I don't see any reason to owe up to losses incurred over time or due to mismanagement."
Sovereign Gardener's mechanical eyes flashed thoughtfully. "The youth, for once, cannot touch immaterial resources as your lot does.
She is *mortal*." Nova Twinkleflame caught up on my point, opting to back off and leaving Opal Woodpuff to her own devices. This was the crux of the matter.
"If that isn't clear and met with a lack of understanding, why don't we talk about rent?" I took out the big gun, metaphorically speaking. "A few millennia you already live here in my garden.
Consume my resources, tarnish my design and claim my place... how do you plan on paying back?" I was totally disinclined to let it defecate all over me and my pride.
The situation was too ridiculous to even joke about. "Your help shall guarantee you a discount. I am this fair." Indeed, I was. Contrary to my impulses.
"...I seeth grounds believeth of a misapprehension." It would for sure not wriggle out of this. "Nova Twinkleflame, wouldn't you like to show me your place?"
Just as I thought, the ancient fairy immediately took up on my offer, happily talking about its city while Opal Woodpuff's form fluctuated wildly.
"That sure sounds interesting," I didn't even know what it was talking about, "Central Node, open up a portal there, won't you?"
"Reply: Certainly, Master." "Waiteth, alloweth me pray—" "Too fucking late, mate." Moments later and we left Lylanlone on a bad note. Me especially.