Chapter 11

When my parents and I arrived at my secret grove, the baby had his rubber-bound pacifier out from his sobbing mouth. Quickly I rushed to the scene, while my father gaped at his first sighting of a human child. The hemp mixed almond milk had done wonders in the end. We didn’t have enough milk through one ingredient, but we had enough when combining them. And gratefully it was enough to quench the baby's hunger for the time being.

My mother was singing the child's mind into calmness with her soothing small voice. My father eyeing the laboratory hidden inside the hickory log--gasped in wonder, excited with what contraptions I had made in my days here. In the morning pale light, he spotted the chromatic metal reflections of the armor parts that I had collected last night.

“Whoa! What is that?”

My father hollered at the steel which was gleaming and the foreign fabrics displayed.

“That’s a metal...Father.”

“What is metal?”

Gleeful that my father was curious, I told him the properties of metal, and how it was forged. He never asked me how I knew this, too busy marveling at the materials before him. I then asked him, that I needed him for another invention of mine. A project that would be so big, that it will eclipse all the constructs I had made before. Excited at the prospect of inventing with his son again, he nodded to give his enthusiasm.

Oona had quietly watched at the side. She had watched my mother and father in silent regard, hovering away from their eyes. Curious, I directed my father and my mother's attention to her. “Here is...The Fae Oona?” I introduced her to them.

They both openly stared at Oona, embarrassed, they then both collapsed onto the ground kneeling in front of her. Oona, shocked at this display, stepped a back.

“Forgive us, we didn’t know you were in our presence.”

“Oh... Holy Fae, Oona. Please don’t judge our son too harshly for his inventions.” My mother begged.

Oona was shocked, as well as I. Then it struck me. The fair folks hold high esteem and worship to the Fae. When the few times the Fae had entered our grove, they were treated more lavishly than Elandris, the Speaker of our Grove. For the Fae was the primogenitor of the fair folks and the stone folk. For we small folks of the forest were their offshoots, a lower type species, and our role was to look after the fauna and flora that were below them.

That is why Oona had looked upon me strangely when we first met. Then I remembered her half-cast features. “She’s not entirely Fae,” I told my parents.

Oona then gave me a killing glare that froze my grass marrows in its place. My mother and father looked at each other with utter amazement, then looked up at her. Oona halted her glare and shrugged.

“Don’t need to grovel at my feet.” She remarked. “I’m not even from this forest.” Both my mother and father had relaxed with her response. They both then gingerly greet her like a stranger into their family. Cautious but welcoming.

“Well father, time to build us a mecha.” Both my hands pleated together as I posed a Mr. Burns glee.

But first I need to wake up my faithful follower Peb for he had slept longer than me and there is no rest for the followers of the wicked. I grinned in my priggish thought.

First, we had to collect the materials needed for the base construction, which were long twigs and plenty of grass strains and leaves. It took us a few hours, my father, Peb, and I, but we managed. My mother had her attention on the baby. And Oona... was doing what Oona does best, lay around and watch us toil in the sun, speculating on what was in my little green mind.

After I was comfortable with the amount we had foraged, we started building the frames. We had twigs wrapped tightly with grass, then attached them with other wrapped twigs as well. With those pieces, we created wired shells of body parts of a human frame. From shoulders to arms, hands, and then fingers. Then we moved on the legs, pelvis, thighs, ankle, and foot, which were all separated into their necessary parts.

Afterward, the rest of the chest and waist was done. With the serrated dagger which we used to neatly cut oak sticks, we had soaked in a pond nearby with fire stones dip inside to make them flexible. Which we then incorporated into the center of each wired construct as bone joints for each piece. We attached strong wired grass strings to keep them covered in the center of most of the wired frames.

Using the pulley weight system which I had to attach to a nearby oak, we lifted all individual parts by grass ropes into a conformation of a human's open-armed pose. Granted, there was no head on the wired body. But looking from afar, the scale of ingenuity it took to get this far. It was a herculean effort of construction, comparative to the framing of a 10 story building.

The parts were all neatly then tied together. The flexible wireframes were attached to one another along with the bendable joints with grass fibers wrapped around it. The bendable joints had holes inside them. So they could incorporate grassroots inside each joint which amalgamated them into the construct.

After we had all the wired frames and joints tested for movements, extreme and otherwise. We introduce the second part of the endeavor in building a forest born mecha; the layers.

Using the dead man’s white cotton shirt and dark brown woven leather trousers, we dressed up our wired mannequin for its first layer. We had to tie grass hardened into steel strings to keep the cloth into their places. Stitching a square foot each into the wired frame. It took some time, but after it was done we had more to do in the first layer.

We had covered the interior between the wired frame and the cloth with fresh soil. They were sunk into the white cloth, making the leather pants and shirt soggy with muddied soil. My father the Grass cultivator began to incorporate grass saplings into each square. To provide a grass-filled enclosed ecosystem within the human construct.

Small stunted grass leaves protruded within the interior of the shell which was stitched and nestled into the soil made cloth. We used dangling water stones to sprinkle nourishment into the grass. Keeping them at in right temperature similar to a greenhouse inside the interior of the mecha.

Whilst my father toiled within to make an ecosystem for the brave grass sequestered inside. Peb and I had slipped the shoes into the wired feet frame with my instructions. We added heavy stones into the foot to add a weight baseline for the construct’s footing.

With the first layer nearly completed, we then slipped in the leather jacket to hide the brown stains of the white cotton shirt. Underneath the leather jacket, we put our first natural layer of protection. Which was thick grass leaves, cultivated to be as strong and flexible as steel fiberglass. When it was all stitched up, we proceeded to the second layering; the chainmail.

The chainmail had metal rings riveted all over it. It was large enough to reach the knee joint of the mecha and long enough to overlap the finger joints of the arms. We neatly tied the mail with the leather jacket and trousers to not leave any sag during it’s fitting.

Taking a break, we all huddled up with our mother who had made us a late midday meal for our toil. Oona kept asking us questions about the science of it all, and how it would work. She also heavily inquired about all our classification, marveling at our prospects and how much I thought out of the box when I invented my designs. I don’t know why, but I was getting used to her at this point. My parents were slightly awed by her presence, and Peb was just Peb, munching on nutted stones, which I had helped name for obvious reasons.

Peb was more active of late, more hyper than his usually solemn self. Who would usually and grudgingly accept my instruction at the slow pace a stone folk would normally act. Wait? Do those beans he bound into his stones have caffeine properties?

My eyes widen at the prospect. Coffee. Oh my god! It was an engineer’s special fuel to keep on the long hours of his toil. The elixir of life and endurance, the beverage for schemes, and the lifeblood of my designs. The powers of a man’s mind are directly proportional to the quantity of coffee he drinks.

“Peb...What beans did you combine with those stones?” I had his shirt in a vice, as I looked deep into his eyes for the answer. Peb looked up at me afraid, then took a huge bite of the piece of stone he was munching upon.

“Uh,” He replied, still thinking in his caffeine trance.

“Peb, I’m being serious here…” My face tensed by my yearning.

“I found the beans nearby here.” Peb waved to the easterly direction. I ran there, well more like sprinted there. Everyone was alarmed with my junkie mood, as I came back a moment later with beans in my hand. I quickly ran into my laboratory which I then made use of a clay pot I had made a while ago. Throwing a water stone and firestone inside the cauldron, I then went to grind the beans into powdered dust. Throwing it into the simmering stew, I mixed it with a grass ladle. Looking at the spare almond milk that was sapped out from the almond, I poured droplets inside and waited.

After a while I came back outside with a smoking grass mug in my hands, sauntering into the kooky stares my friends and family were giving me. Taking another sip, I sat down in utter ecstasy. My body hummed from the new sensation of caffeine coursing throughout my body. I exhaled, marveling at the beautiful taste and aroma.

This was it, gents, this was the moment I realized life as a fair folk was alright...

All the people wanted to take a sip, which I had gladly shared, for I had more simmering in my clay pot.

After my marvelous afternoon meal, I went back to work, refreshed at the prospect of building the armored layer for my Gundam size mecha. With talents and dexterity, I had missed before. In a caffeine-induced trance, I aptly used the pulley system like a pro player with his keyboard in a live esport match.

Oona tagged along, with her unique ability to fly and hover around. She would push the steel armored into placements where my father and Peb could stitch them into the chainmail. First, we strapped the greaves, then the cuisse for the thighs. We then attached the fan-plate for knees, and to finalize it with the Poley for the sharp tips of the knees. We then added the steel Sabaton over the thick leather shoes to finish up the legs.

Next was the breastplate, plackart, and the fauld, which were all neatly tied up with steel hardened grass strings. With the leg plated tassets added, we had finished the core of the armor set. Now for the pauldron and rerebrace, we had to double layer the strings for these joints to not sag the shoulders out from its placement. We attached the vambrace, overlaid by counter for the arm joints. And finally the gauntlets, this was a delicate procedure, for we had to tie multiple grass strings for each finger joint and thumb.

After all, was done, we added the Gorget and the Helm.

Sipping my fifth brew of coffee, I watched at the near completion of my armored mecha. Now was the hard part, incorporating all my musical instruments, functions, and buttons into the construct.

Figuring the chest is where the human heart is usually sequestered. I decided to implement the central networking for musical instruments to be placed there. Which were musical boxes, and strum instruments. With that thought in mind, I went back into my laboratory to scavenge for all the parts I needed to make multiple cockpits. And also a central musical system to be hardcoded into the grass mecha.

There were two cockpits in this design. One was at the chest, strapped onto the cotton shirt, and the other was inside the helmet where the visor peripherals were of use. This was mainly a solo task primarily for an engineering minor and robot major such as myself.

I had to attach the network of grass from the enclosed ecosystem into my functions. The network of grass cables was all over the interior of the mecha at this point. Stapled onto the cloth to make sure the interior wasn’t tangled up in grass fibers. Musical instruments were walled off into compartments around the chest plate and the shoulders and some were in the thighs.

After connecting them up, I began to design the cockpits and their buttons, attaching them to each main network that was placed in the chest of the mecha. There were multiple grass plants networked inside the mecha. Which had helped tremendously when incorporating them into the twisted grass fibers. That we then connected into the musical instruments arrayed in the center.

The chest interior of the mecha had two platforms. One at the base atop the waist, which held a second cockpit. The second was below it within the pelvis regions for the legs. This is where I had Peb store up all the elemental stones we had stockpiled in our laboratory compartments. It was now Peb’s place for him to bind and store. For extra room, we had the thighs also for him. So he could add and create more of the dangerous stones which would then be stored into crates. They would be placed in interior platforms of the thigh, which could be easily scaled through with ladders.

When all the wiring was done, and the buttons were knitted. We then created grass leaf platforms around the interior for the brave grass and stone folk’s living spaces. A bedroom compartment for each shoulder joint, and a wide and tall hall in the waist; big enough for a toddler to sequester in when needed.

I had ideas one what I could use the wicker basket the baby was huddled up in, but that would be later, after my first test turn of the Knight Mecha. Now for the hallowed name for this prototype build.

It was the first of its generations, for Goddess Iris will know I will build more than one human size mecha. I deliberated for a moment with my company below, then I had it. It was fitting and just.

Amelia Mark 1.

For this Knight Mecha's only duty is to protect her former owner’s baby child. It was poetic in all its aspects, for a mother’s armor will continue to protect her child until the steel turns into rust.

As my family huddled before me, awed by the towering form of the human-sized armored mecha above us. I had pondered the legacy I will leave this world when I turn into dust. Of this, I have no doubt. One can only hope that one leaves behind a lasting legacy. But so often the legacies we leave behind, are not the ones we had intended.

I wonder if Amelia had felt the same notion as she left her child in my small green hands. She was a song in the wind, whispering to me to move forward, as I looked on at the towering frame before me. An armored colossal tasked with something bigger than life, bigger than me. Protect this child.

I looked back at the huddled baby sleeping in his wrapped cloth with a hard smile on my face. For this will be my legacy, my start, and end.

Suddenly, the crushing sounds of leaves beneath small sols began to interrupt my musings. We all turned to the disturbance. It was my friend Wink, who then gave us a wink with his exhausted and frightened expression.

“Wink what's wrong?”

“The Mushroom Kingdom is attacking our grove!”

I then heard a cling from above inside the Knight Mecha, the breeze of wind had flexed its might to shake the mecha to respond. The cling kept on it’s chiming, drumming me into war. For what is the sound of war but the sound of metal drumming.