“We have arrived,” announced Tork.

We were standing in front of a gate guarded by two Bouroks carrying a short knife and a sickle on their belt. A tall wall shielded a bunch of buildings of which we could only see the top of. The gate was wide and tall enough that a chariot and the beast pulling it could pass without slowing. I knew that the Bouroks were withdrawn and secretive, but I had not been expecting an actual gated community. I looked at Tork with a raised brow.

“I assure you,” he said. “The security is necessary.”

Flyssa, as always, was more practical.

“Any last advice before we enter?” she asked.

“Yes. Above all, be honest. If they decide that they cannot trust you, no incentive will be enough to convince them to work with you.”

I chuckled. “Perhaps I should do the talking then, right?”

Her eyes focused on me like a hawk. “What do you mean, exactly?”

“Uh… Because I’m very naive and trusting, you know. It’s perfect.”

“Of course,” she said, snorting. “Good start on the being honest part.”

“Thank you. I try my best.”

Tork glanced between the two of us like we had gone crazy. “Shall we go in?”

“Let’s,” said Flyssa. Her grin vanished and she straightened her back. This was Flyssa the Financier, ready to do business.

The guards let us in with only a few words from Tork and we made our way onto a large courtyard. A line of workshops surrounded it, with small houses interlocked in between them. Most of them had been built with a sort of dark brown cob, with only a few exceptions made out of stone. There were three narrow alleys leading further inside. Two dozens or so Bouroks were going about their day, a few of which were pulling carts much like Tork’s. A band of Bourok children were awkwardly trying to roll around in straight lines and racing each other. It was like a small town in the middle of the city. I whistled out of stupefaction. Flyssa was quiet, glancing around with wide eyes.

“Welcome to Lor Shil,” declared Tork while raising his arms. He was visibly satisfied by our reaction. I guessed that with the secrecy surrounding the Bourok people, he did not have many occasions to show his home to his friends. The place looked far cleaner than the streets outside of the walls where we had just been, though I did not think it was much richer. It gave off an austere impression. I could see no plants or decorations of any sort and the Bouroks were all wearing simple, workmanlike clothes. About half of the people I saw where only wearing pants and sandals, but I suspected that had more to do with the fact that shirts would not last too long when you rolled around in them.

“This way, please.”

We dodged the rolling children and followed Tork into one of the side passageways. Another Bourok came to greet us. He, or she – I realized that I had absolutely no idea how to distinguish Bouroks by their gender, they all looked somewhat similar to me – was shorter than Tork, with a slightly hunched back.

“Welcome, welcome, I am Ras, Tork’s mother,” she said, answering that question, though I was still uncertain as to how I could have guessed it. Even her voice was barely higher than her son’s. “I have been appointed to bring your proposal to the Elders.

“It’s nice to meet you, Ras,” I said. “I am Luc and this is my business partner Flyssa. Thank you for this opportunity.” We both bowed in turn which seemed to please her.

“There is no reason to thank me, my son did all the work. Alas, he is too young yet to bring his own proposals before the Elders. He will wait for us here. If you would please follow me?”

We bid goodbye to Tork who wished us good luck and followed his mother into a larger building. The walls were thick enough that the temperature inside was considerably cooler than outside. A lone window illuminated the room we found ourselves in.

“You will have to excuse the lack of light,” said Ras. “We have little need for it. We have prepared some candles for your comfort during the meeting however.”

“We are grateful,” replied Flyssa. “Is there any advice you could offer us before we meet the Elders?”

The Bourok stopped and turned around.

“Oh, my apologies. Did my son not brief you?”

“He only told us to be honest. Could you share anything more specific about the process or perhaps the Elders we will be meeting?”

Ras chuckled and gave a few gentle pats to Flyssa’s arm.

“He did brief you then. I am sorry, but I cannot give you more. Be honest and forthright and everything will happen as it should.”

Flyssa threw me a helpless glance but she just thanked Ras and we made our way deeper into the building. Though we had not gone that far inside, every step gave me more and more the impression of being in a cave. We passed by a few Bouroks going about their days. They all bowed to us briefly but nobody spoke and with continued our way inside, crossing rooms and corridors shrouded in darkness, until we reached an antechamber where an armed guard brandishing a torch was waiting for us in front of a large opening. He (or she) bowed, held out the torch to Ras and stepped to the side to let us pass. She gave us one last reassuring smile before entering the meeting room.

Inside, five Bouroks were sitting on low stools in a half-circle, the shadows of their figures drawn by two small windows atop the ceiling and a dozen or so candles that, though they had been placed here for our benefit, gave the scene a very ominous feel.

Three stools sat empty and, following Ras’ lead, Flyssa and I sat down after bowing to the Elders.

“Welcome to Lor Shil,” said the Bourok in the middle with a grave voice. “I am Windspeaker Solf. I will serve as First Elder for this meeting.”

I was taken aback at the mention of their Class. Tork had explained to us that the Elders used a rotation system. Depending on the subject, the most competent of their numbers acted as the First, the one presiding over the discussion. We had all expected some kind of Crafter to take the lead during this meeting, but a Windspeaker was some sort of spiritual guide to the Bouroks. I didn’t know why they had chosen this one.

Ras spoke for us to begin.

“Thank you, First Elder. I, Ras, have been appointed to represent the Human Luc, Aether Mage, and the Schalass Flyssa, Financier, in the current matter of their proposal to provide the services of their company, Bordeaux Logistics, to our Kin, in exchange for a compensation to be determined. It is to be noted before presenting this proposal that Aether Mage Luc has been regularly providing his magic to assist our child Tork in his Messenger duties. This exchange was the subject of a previous meeting of the Elders and I can testify that it has been greatly beneficial to Tork.”

“We remember this exchange,” said the middle Elder. “It is the reason why we have allowed today’s meeting.”

“Yeah we remember all right,” grumbled one of the Elders on the left. “I had to enchant the child’s damned cart.”

They shut up at the scathing look the First Elder gave them and I had to suppress a nervous laugh. I was glad to know that not all of the Bouroks were as serious and dignified as the ones I had met.

“As I was saying, we remember this exchange. It has been deemed worthy of further exploration. Esteemed Ras, will you speak on your charges’ account?”

Ras bowed her head.

“If it pleases the Elders, I will let them speak for themselves.”

“Very well,” consented the First with a wave of their hand. “Mage Luc, we will hear from you. The possibilities offered by your Aether magic are numerous, but it is our belief that the current exchange you have with the child Tork would not be scalable to much more of our Kin. Are we mistaken?”

I bowed my head and tried to ignore the uncomfortable stool and calm my beating heart. I knew I would be taking a significant risk here, but I had spent a long time evaluating the pros and cons. I was confident that this was my best option.

“Thank you, First Elder, for honouring us today. To answer your question, you are indeed correct. Fuelling Tork’s cart takes a decent amount of energy from me and, with the rest of our company’s activities taking off, I do no think I would be able to provide this service consistently to more than three or four others. There is, however, a new service that we could provide the Bouroks to our mutual benefit. I have recently reached a threshold in my Classes and am now able to imbue items with a permanent Aether link, in so far as any enchantment is permanent of course. The gained space is lesser, about ten percent of the normal capacity, but it would be cheaper and require far less maintenance.”

The same Enchanter that had spoken up before interrupted me.

“A lone enchantment is useless on carts. The roads aren’t smooth. The carts take a heavy toll from their travels. A version of Hardening is a minimum. Are you able to fill that rune in with your permanent Aether enchantment?”

“You are right, Elder. And sadly, I am not able to do that at the moment.” I didn’t know if I would ever be able to. I had basically reached my goal with my Enchanter Class. I wasn’t sure what the future would be made of, but for now my plans had me focus heavily on improving my Aether Mage Class.

“However, our proposal is much more simple. What we are offering is to provide the Bouroks with Aether linked tarps, made out of whatever material you prefer, though we would recommend hemp. The Messengers or Carriers would spread them into their cart and put the merchandise within. They could even hold a replacement tarp underneath in case the first one unexpectedly breaks. The risk would be minimal and it would ensure a considerable advantage in either volume or lessened weight.”

Chatter broke through both on my right and left, but the First Elder spoke over their peers.

“An interesting idea. And how much would each of those tarps cost us?”

“Since this is her domain, I will let my associate Flyssa answer your question,” I said.

“Thank you, Luc,” she said with a confident voice. “And I would like to, again, express my gratitude to you, Elders, for this great opportunity. The prices will of course depend on multiple things: the materials you wish for, whether you would want our company to provide everything or only to enchant your products, the quantities you would be interested in. I have prepared a series of estimates, if you would care to hear them.”

The First Elder motioned for Flyssa to continue but I phased out of the discussion to observe the other Elders. In the darkness of the room, I could not discern their facial expressions, but I did see them slightly lean towards each other to comment on what they were hearing. If size was a correct indicator of gender, there were two males and three females including the First Elder. I could not be certain though, not that it mattered much. The Enchanter, the only one who had spoken apart from the First, was the most agitated, speaking to his neighbour who was much more stoic and only answered by a series of nods with slight nuances. It was hard to guess what they were all thinking.

When Flyssa finished her exhaustive presentation of our price range, I took the floor again.

“If I may, there is another subject we would like to bring up today.” The First Elder made a gesture to signal me to continue.

“Thank you,” I said. I sat up on the stool and cleared my throat. “We have currently positioned our company to mainly assist during the loading and unloading of ships’ cargoes. To that end, there is a tool we would like to create and offer the use of to our clients, a critical component of which we would like to buy from the Bouroks. To be more precise, the tool in question is a hand truck. It is made of a strong metal frame, a small ledge and two small wheels. Seeing as it would be used to carry barrels and crates, the axle and the wheels need to be strong enough to handle such weights comfortably. We would be interested in benefiting from your Kin’s renowned expertise in this matter.”

It had been a while since I had spoken with such obsequiousness. Even in my last meeting with the God Pamasteron. I had been honest though, as Tork and his mother had advised. I was hoping it would work. Having a couple of hand truck that we could loan to our clients would further differentiate us from our competition. However, the way the First Elder was shaking their head did not fill me with confidence.

“Such requests are not handled by the Elders. You must petition a Wheelmaker and only they will decide whether they wish to work with you or not. We cannot provide a name if you do not already have one, but perhaps your advocate might help in this matter.” Ras gave me a subtle nod without taking her eyes off the First Elder, who continued.

“So concludes the meeting of the Elders with Aether Mage Luc and Financier Flyssa. We will debate the merits of your proposal and inform you when we have reached a decision. We are grateful to you both for your proposal.”

Ras stood up and bowed and we quickly followed suit. She kept the torch while leading us out of the building. Tork was waiting outside, looking at the door, his back against a wall. He instantly rose when he saw us coming out to ask how it went. The sun was bright and almost at its peak. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust.

Though we chatted a little with Tork and his mother, it soon became clear that they would prefer for this discussion to happen outside of the Bourok compound. Tork started walking while he talked and we were forced to follow. We did manage to leave with a Ras’ promise that she would try to find us a good Wheelmaker.

Flyssa and I went back to the workshop, debriefing our meeting with the Bourok Elders and speculating about what their answer would be. We were not far from the harbour when we saw a bunch of people speaking excitedly and running to it. We shared a glance and followed the crowd.

The Fishers had already put away their stalls and every food seller stood at the ready behind their wares. Nobody was looking at them though. The crowd only had eyes for a tall Schalass standing on a low stool and surrounded by a ring of Guards proudly wearing the colours of the Duchess. I could see the people closer to him struggling with elbows and shoulders to avoid being crushed. They did not try to leave though. They were using their privileged position to shout questions at the Schalass.

“What’s happening?” I yelled in Flyssa’s ear.

“It’s a Herald! He must have an important message from the castle!”

We tried to get closer to him but the crowd was like a solid wall and all the people we asked shrugged in ignorance. They had also arrived too late to hear the announcement.

I was ready to head back to the workshop and ask about all of this later when a booming voice cracked the air like thunder.

“People of Sturron! Quiet down! Hear me one more time! Hear this vital information from our beloved Duchess! She is well and her health is as robust as it has ever been! The lies that have been spreading in the city are nothing more than hateful and empty curses against the Jewel of Sturron! Do not despair! She stands with us, always! Praise the Duchess! Praise the Duchess!”

The crowd chanted with him those last words. People laughed and hugged around us and my back actually hurt from all the joyful taps I received. The harbour was jubilating. Even Flyssa was smiling and yelling with the rest, taken in by the excitement.

I could not bring myself to be happy. Of course, if the Duchess actually was healthy, it would be great for our safety and our business. But that speech had sounded far too much like the propaganda we heard every day on Earth, from our history lessons to our politicians, for me to trust any word of it.