Enlightened Empire 33 Talent, Success, Truth End of Book 1

The emperor died after illness. Soon, the funeral would be held and nominations for the next emperor would begin. In normal times, the elders of the imperial house would choose the next emperor candidate from among the princes, and in the almost three centuries the Pluritac Dynasty had ruled over the empire, not once had they failed to nominate the crown prince.

However, this time the crown prince wasn't even in the country. Corco would have to get home soon, before the nomination could be made. Although he didn't know who had written the unsigned letter, its mere existence made it clear that many people in Medala still remembered him and honored the old traditions. Whoever his secret allies were, they would have to hold back the elders until the prince could make his way across the sea.

All of this and more were things Corco could have considered as he looked down at the ominous paper. However, he wasn't focused on the contents at all, despite his concentrated stare. Instead, he considered the medium itself. The smoothed pages of paper slipped through his fingers, as he rubbed them back and forth in contemplation.

Once, he had sat just the same, with a letter in his hand, ready to leave a life behind. Back then, when he had ended his first life with that cup of poison, he had been granted a second chance. Again, after five years, a letter would decide his fate, and force him to give up his life. This time however, things would be different. This time, he would not be gifted his chances. This time, he would carve a path for himself, with his own ability.

Just as the prince thought to drop the letter in the waters of the harbor, in a pointless and harmful show of drama, someone intruded his meditative state and broke his thoughts.

"Hey, Boss," Dedrick the intruder said. "There's some clock maker here to see you? The guy's got some dangerous equipment with him, so I had him wait beyond the pier."

Rather than throw the paper away, Corco went with the more reasonable option. With great care, he folded it along the deep creases and returned it back to his pocket, like he had done so many times before.

"Ooh, that should be our life insurance! Let's go over and take a look."

With a smile, Corco pushed off of the boxes of cargo which were still to be loaded onto their ships and sauntered down Etra's pier with a spring in his step. He had been waiting for this shipment for a long time.

"No one spilled any nails, right?" Even Dedrick's lack of enthusiasm couldn't ruin Corco's good mood at this point. Like a kid on Christmas, the prince hopped towards the lanky young man who already stood ready beyond the pier, a large suitcase in his hand.

"Master Egidius! What a pleasant surprise!" Corco welcomed the talented clock maker. By chance, the prince had stumbled upon the under-appreciated young master a few years prior. Back then, he had looked for an expert to help him make some of his more ambitious inventions a reality.

"Master Fastgrade, or maybe... should I say prince?" With a twitch in his smile, Egidius offered an insecure greeting.

"Either is fine, really. You're done with my order?"

As soon as the topic turned to his work, the clock maker's eyes lit up in delight.

"Yes, it is finished. Truly a product of great, fine art. Even though I do not believe it to be overly practical."

As he spoke, Egidius took the suitcase in his hand and placed it on the ground. With far less theatrics than Corco would have liked, the clock maker opened the case and revealed the six weapons inside. With great care, the craftsman picked up one of the short pistols with the thick, beautifully carved barrels and held it up to the prince.

"So this is it, a proper wheel lock pistol?" Corco marveled.

With a nod, Egidius answered Corco's enthusiasm with his own.

"Implementation of Master Fastgrade's theorized mechanism was difficult, but at last I managed to make it work. The result is an ingenious construction, one of the most sophisticated mechanical products in all of Arcavia ."

Corco turned the pistol to observe it from all sides, light playing off the polished barrel.

"So it works? You tried it out?"

Although he replied with another nod, Egidius didn't seem fully content with his creation.

"I still maintain that the barrel should be made slimmer. At such a large caliber, the weapon requires an enormous amount of powder for a firearm. With all the heat and kick, the barrel will not withstand more than a single shot."

"It works though, right?" Corco insisted. Instead of answering the prince's question, Egidius frowned and complained away.

"I believe that the limitations lie in the material used. Further, the wheel needs to be fine tuned or the pyrite will be worn down very fast. I understand that this would not be a factor otherwise, as the weapon will only be able to fire the once, but it is a bad omen to leave work unfinished like this."

While Corco and Egidius were talking past each other, Dedrick had picked up one of the guns to do his own inspection with.

"So the thing can only fire once then? No wonder you bought six of them. Still kind of a waste though."

Corco's eyes blinked through a bout of uncomfortable silence as he stared at Dedrick, before the prince realized what the mercenary had meant.

"Oh, the guns aren't all for me, and they're not meant for regular combat either. They're life insurance, a way to punch through even the thickest armor in the world from close range, if it ever comes to that. I only get one insurance though, what with me only having one life and all. The others are for the rest of us, for all the Fastgrade merchants. Here, take yours."

With a beaming smile, the prince held the wheel lock at the barrel and pointed the grip towards his long-time employee. However, the fake knight made no attempt to take his weapon.

"Look, I'm just a hired sword, boss. I'm in it for the cash, same as my men. I think you better keep that thing for yourself. From what the others tell me about your family, it seems like you'll need it more than me anyways."

"In that case, I will just hold on to it for now."

Disappointed by the mercenary's lack of camaraderie, Corco lowered the gun. His enthusiasm sapped away, he turned back to the pistol's creator, who still stood by on the balls of his feet, an eager look burned onto his face.

Awkward at the craftsman's strange figure, Corco rubbed the back of his head. "Okay, thank you, that... would be all I guess? You can stay around and watch us leave if you want, I'm sure the disappearing fleet will be very dramatic."

"Leave?" The clock maker looked just as confused as Corco had. "Why would I go anywhere?"

"Huh?"

"Did Master Fastgrade not look for craftsmen willing to follow on his journey into the unknown, mysterious west? There were rumors I heard, and I thought..."

"Wait, sure, we've been hiring people to come with us, but... that's... mostly craftsmen who couldn't settle down elsewhere? Not that I'd want to stop you, but with your talent, wouldn't you much rather work for some well-known lord instead?"

"Master Fastgrade is a royal prince, correct?"

With a dull face, Corco returned a mechanical nod.

"In that case, I can now count myself in the employ of royalty, that is lord enough for me. Somehow, I believe that sire will need a man of my talents, and that he will appreciate them far more than the Arcavian lords ever would."

Satisfied with his own conclusion, the clock maker nodded to himself and left the baffled prince behind, to make his way towards the ships docked at the pier. As he watched the strange craftsman join the rest of his men, Corco regained the smile he had lost.

Talent follows talent. Success breeds success. Truth begets truth.

Soon, all three would spread across his Empire.

Chapter end