Gilles’s eyes sparkled like he had found a rare treasure. “I could sell that! ’Specially up north! It’d sell like crazy over there!”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah! It’s mighty cold up there, and there ain’t no easy way to get hot water.”
“That’s true. All you’d need to do is melt some snow and stick it in here. Though I guess it’d need some reworking to bear the temperatures...”
“True, true! This is gonna be great! Even the folk outside the mountains are gonna love this!”
That wasn’t news to Arcus. Products like this were wildly popular in the man’s world. To people who bought them for the first time, they were a total game changer.
In certain rural areas of this world, it could take anywhere from thirty minutes to an hour to heat up water. A product that could do it in seconds was bound to be popular.
Although Arcus was selling his pull-cord Sol Glasses through the store, there were a number of other items that he was selling by himself. The kettle and anything utilizing a similar technique, however, were things he had been saving.
“Y’can’t show me somethin’ like this and then tell me ‘deal’s off’!”
“You’re the only person I’ve shown this to, apart from my close associates. That should be enough for you.”
“Eh, I guess you’re right...”
“I owe you one for giving us that info back in Rustinell, which is why I’m doing this. Think about it like this. Selling this means you won’t have to rely on weapons all the time, right?”
“Yeah... I way prefer sellin’ stuff that’s useful over weapons.”
“I want you to think about what you can offer me before we meet again.”
“Aight. I’ll have a potential market for you next time. Can I look at that pull-cord Sol Glass again for a bit?”
“Sure.”
A while after their conversation ended, Arcus asked, “Say, Gilles, have you ever heard of an emerald?”
“An eme-what-what?”
“An emerald.”
“Naw.” Gilles frowned, puzzled.
“Huh. I thought there was a chance you might know something...” Arcus mirrored the merchant’s expression.
He had been to jewelers all over the capital since speaking to the clerk, but none of his efforts had borne any fruit. All the dealers he had asked had told him they’d never heard of or seen such a gemstone, and now he was at a loss. It didn’t make any sense. This world had sapphires, rubies, and even aquamarines, which had the same composition as emeralds, but there was no trace of the stone itself.
“This eme-thingy important to you, Arcus?”
“I dunno if I’d say that. I just haven’t spotted any.”
“Huh? Y’seen ’em before, then?”
“Yeah, a while back.”
“What do they look like?”
“When polished, they shine with a green light. But they’re not jades. You ever seen anything like that?”
“Dunno... But if y’want one, I’ll see what I can find.”
“Thanks. You don’t have to get me one or anything. Just let me know if you see one.”
With that, their first round of talks was over, ending with as much success as Arcus’s last hunt for an emerald.
The aethometer’s announcement had now been officially confirmed. There was still much to do before the exact date was decided, but there was little doubt that it would happen sometime in the near future. Porque Nadar’s abortive civil war had pushed the royal family to make the decision.
The kingdom’s reputation had suffered thanks to Nadar’s treason. The royal family would rather the kingdom remain seen as a great power than one prone to dissension and internal strife. Likewise, the royal family’s desired narrative was that the war had been a fluke, only made possible by the Empire’s interference. They had decided to announce the aethometer in order to strengthen this posture.
The aethometer was a symbol of innovation. It would likely be enough to instantly kill off all conversation of an isolated nobleman’s minor rebellion. Lainur’s magicians, who were already known for their prowess, were set to grow even stronger. The announcement would set that knowledge firmly in the minds of other nations, and any who might have been hoping to take advantage of the kingdom’s perceived weakness would be forced to reconsider.
Any hostile nation that charged blindly ahead regardless of the announcement would find its military reduced to fodder for Lainur’s magicians. Meanwhile, any allied nations that got on the kingdom’s bad side would find it reluctant to export aethometers to them. And every nation would be forced to change its diplomatic strategy in regards to Lainur. It was unlikely that any of them would try to meddle even slightly in the nation’s affairs for the time being.
Domestically, the announcement was sure to bolster the nation’s sense of solidarity. With a powerful military force behind it, nobles would be less inclined to leave the kingdom or, indeed, rebel. Nobody would want to become the next Porque Nadar.
The nation’s interests aside, Arcus was personally rather satisfied with the timing. He was settled into his new house and had everything he needed to prepare for the announcement. The only caveat was that his name was not to be announced with it; he would be known as talentless for a while longer. Apparently, it would be more of a boon to his renown if his name was revealed after the aethometer and its blessings were widely known. And so, they would wait a year to do so—two at most.
Though it struck Arcus as odd that the royal family was putting so much work into the reveal, he was also aware that there were things they weren’t telling him. Ceylan confirmed as much when he called Arcus to the palace.
“Your Royal Highness wishes for me to create more powerful spells?”
“Correct. I am expecting great things from you. And it should not be too much to ask of a boy of your talents. You have already created the aethometer; your name’s place in this nation’s history is guaranteed. What remains is a necessity to excel as a magician. You must create spells to impress even the most seasoned mages and make a real name for yourself.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good. I shall look forward to your success.”
Though Arcus accepted the instruction, he had no idea how he was actually going to accomplish it. Creating a powerful spell wasn’t exactly easy, but his status was such that he could not deny a request from the prince.
His lack of aether would be the bottleneck to producing such spells. His levels were equivalent to the average magician one might find on the street; any spell he made needed to be light on its aether consumption and, even then, he would quickly run out when experimenting. That would make the process even longer. He had been trying to solve his aether troubles for quite some time; he hadn’t thought such a large request would be made of him before he had found a way to do so.