The last lights of the sunset filtrated through the stained glass into the enchanting classroom. Rows of desks covered in metallic objects reflected the light in hundreds of small beams all around.
Manning those desks, almost a hundred students of every age, from 13 to 18, in teams of four. Older, more experienced students were leading the younger ones under the watchful eyes of Elara roaming the classroom and ensuring all safety measures were being observed.
"Ronald, please be careful with that blade, don't cut yourself."
Every now and then, her warm voice would give out a warning or two, other times it would be a suggestion, a lesson, an encouragement.
The workshop had begun with Elara distributing a series of parchments with the designs for the enchantments. On one side would be a model of the object to enchant, and on the opposite side, the enchantments and neat scheme of arrows pointing to where to etch the runes.
And, as for what they made? Ventispils being a mainly lumber and farming community that had just been through a war, the main demand was not for epic weapons or indestructible armours, but for more seemingly mundane items.
A bucket that would keep water cooler for longer. Fishing rods that would attract fishes and lines that wouldn't snap. Tools that would sharpen itself at night, etc
After listening to various requests from townees, she bought all the necessary enchanting materials, the tools and developed some easy-to-mass-produce blueprints. An idea that seemed wrong and opposite to her values as an experienced enchantress.
She wasn't a famous craftswoman, but she still had very high standards and great respect for the craft itself, so when Roderick introduced the idea of mass-producing barely functioning goods and the idea of an assembly line she felt repulsed.
The idea of not trying to craft the best possible items, but simply as many as possible without caring for quality, hurt her principles as a craftswoman. What was the point of learning all the intricacies of enchanting, the art of balancing the capricious runes; only to be reduced to four people blindly following the instructions on a piece of paper and somehow piecing together a functioning product.
However, her ethical concerns had to take a backseat to the needs of the academy, and she reluctantly agreed to lead the group effort.
She focused on a table and the pile of half-finished products cluttering their table. The group had split their tasks as suggested by Roderick, each individual would etch their chosen rune on the ax, then pass it along. Finally, each complete product would then go to the senior student who would verify the integrity, fix what was possible, and then activate the enchantment.
As time passed, and students familiarised with their chosen runes, they began picking up speed, doing fewer mistakes, the quality picked up and the pile of discarded tools stopped growing.
Table after table, the students turned from a motley crew of amateurs, into a well-oiled machine.
As crate after crate of finished goods accumulated, Elara stared in shock at the efficiency the Roderick model had reached. If it was her and maybe another hundred enchanters, they could do the same, better and faster too. But on the other hand, making a hundred of hers took a dozen years and many talented individuals, without even counting the costs of hiring that many cratspeople.
A chill went down her spine as she almost could see a future where thousands of people with barely any understanding of the fundamental principles of what they were doing would daily churn out an arsenal worth of goods, and, if they complained, they could easily be replaced, while trained craftsmen would slowly fade into oblivion.
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At Table 7, the tasks were divided with diligent precision.
Lydia, her auburn curls bouncing in rhythm with her humming, took on the task of inscribing the [Absorb] rune. This rune, resembling a series of concentric circles growing smaller toward the center, symbolized absorption or ingestion. Her skilled hands gracefully etched this geometric vortex onto the ax head, enabling it to ingest similar metals to counteract wear and tear, thus preserving the tool's integrity over time.
Alaric, with his pragmatic approach and logical mindset, assumed the responsibility of etching the [Define Image] rune. This rune bore the shape of a complex geometric matrix or grid, akin to a wireframe cube, serving as a blueprint. With focused eyes and steady hands, Alaric worked meticulously, instilling the ax with an image of its ideal state, preserving this form within the tool itself.
Aurelia, embodying radiant curiosity and clad in bright, whimsical clothes, was tasked with the [Shape] rune. This symbol, a flowing curve resembling a wave form, signified malleability and transformation. Her youthful enthusiasm was a delightful contrast to the serious nature of her task as she inscribed the rune that would dictate the ax's form, referring to the model saved by Alaric's [Define Image].
After each had performed their part, they delivered it to Orion. He carefully scrutinized each rune, his bright hazel eyes hidden behind the thick glass lenses seemed to miss nothing, and his calm, steady hands confidently wielded the fine tools required to etch and correct the intricate runes. He knew well that an improperly etched rune could result in a malfunction, or worse, a backfiring enchantment.
Once all the runes were in a proper state, he would connect them and activate the formation by pouring his mana following the etched patterns, an operation so delicate that a misstep would istanly ruin the pattern and in some cases even corrupt the material, rendering it unusable.
His unruly dark hair constantly fell onto his glasses as he leaned in to fix the [Absorbe] rune of an ax head with great precision. "This rune is a bit tricky," he murmured, pushing up his glasses and wiping his forehead. His bright hazel eyes were thoughtful and animated. "One misstep and the ax might not limit itself to eating metal."
Next to him, Lydia, a radiant smile lighting up her petite face, her curly auburn hair adorned with small lucky charms reflecting the sunset light, gasped cheerfully, "Maybe it could have a taste for cookies then. Imagine, an ax munching on sweets!" She brought the hand holding the engraving tool to her mouth, mimicking having a bite.
Alaric, sitting opposite Orion, shot Lydia a dry look. His gray eyes focused, his short, neat blonde hair immaculately styled. His tall and lean build radiated a thoughtful and introspective aura. "Lydia, an ax with a sweet tooth is hardly what we're aiming for here."
The table filled with soft laughter as Aurelia chimed in. "What if it had a craving for chess boards instead?" She shot Alaric a cheeky glance, a playful smirk on her lips.
Alaric froze his engraving tool mid-air. "You wouldn't dare," he retorted, threateningly pointing the tool at her.
Orion, suppressing a chuckle, pushed his glasses up his nose, returning his attention to the ax. "Alright, alright, back to work. No enchanted axes eating chess boards on my watch."
Lydia, still giggling, nodded and turned back to her own work, but not without shooting one more impish glance toward Alaric. "But imagine, Alaric, you'd always have a perfect excuse to avoid losing to me at chess again!"
Aurelia, snorting with laughter, said, "Yes, Alaric, imagine if she enchanted a few pieces, it would give a whole new meaning to her queen eating your king."
Alaric glared at the both of them, but there was no heat in his eyes, only the barest hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "Fine, have your fun. But remember, Lydia, you're only winning because I'm allowing it."
Lydia scoffed, rolling her eyes dramatically. "Oh, is that so? Perhaps we should test that theory with another match?"
"Only if you promise not to feed the board to a chair or something," Alaric retorted dryly.
She giggled, nodding. "of course, of course, I would never want to damage your toys." she threw one last glance at Alaric, waiting for his reaction, which came almost immediately.
As Alaric opened his mouth, the whole group, used to their shenanigans, said at the same time: """"They are not toys, they are collectibles.""""" As words left his mouth and he heard his workmate mock him, he blushed slightly and refocused on engraving the ax head.
A few chuckles followed as the conversation moved away.