Machinist of Mana

I was only fourteen, and all the things I'd managed astounded me. Over and over again I thought this as I looked at my newest creation. Perhaps it was cheating, calling this my own doing, I'd certainly cribbed a lot of notes from my old world, knowledge that would prove useful in the coming years as it already had, but it was still a lot of hard labor. Before me sat my newest and best creation, one of the first major things grandfather Darksky and I had really built from scratch together. We'd made copies of things before, small toys and the like, but nothing like this, this was a masterpiece.

The machine was small, far too small for me or anyone else to sit in it, let alone steer it, but that wasn't really the point, the point was to prove the concept. Wings stretched out from the sides, the angles and shapes probably weren't ideal, but they were close enough that they should work. The makeshift design reinforced as well as we could make it.

“I want to learn how to make that engine,” I said, frowning; the enchanted engine was one of the few things I didn't understand.

“You're about at the age to start forming a core aren't you my boy?” grandfather observed as he rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Have to speak to your mother about it, though they may offer it in your school.”

“Already did, she dislikes the idea. Said physicals don't normally make cores.” I frowned at the mention of school, it was one thing I knew I couldn't avoid.

In this world there were a number of different types of schooling, but real official academies didn't take people until they were a bit older. It was the equivalent of high school back from Earth, and I wasn't looking forward to it. High school had been tiresome the first time around and I really wasn't interested in a repeat. The fact that it was going to be an all boys school didn't help either.

“She'll come around. Ready to get it started?” he asked, trying to distract me from my thoughts.

“Ready as I've ever been,” I answered with a small smile.

He nodded to me and I stepped forward, placing my hand upon the craft. Slowly I focused on my mana, the power in my body that fed my physical abilities and all magic. Learning to do this had been a bit odd, but there was a trick to it. The sensation of moving mana was difficult to describe, like a tingling sensation that could be pushed and shoved forward and into whatever it was you wanted to put it in. If I had an item on me now it was almost natural to trigger it.

There was a small dinging sound as the tiny magical engine finished filling up and I stepped back. The whole operation was almost silent, an effect of using mana rather than liquid fuels and a magical item rather than propellers and jets.

Our 'engine' was an incredibly simple magical item. It mostly just made a kinetic force pushing itself, and the attached craft, forwards. There were a few additional functions for this test, but the forward push was what we needed it for most. It wasn't something that could be instituted on very large scales, but for this test it would serve.

“Here it goes,” grandfather said, almost in a whisper.

The little toy plane sped up down the field we were using for the test and bounced, once, twice, thrice, and then it flew. It wasn't fast, it wasn't particularly high, but it flew. With patience it gained altitude, achieving about fifty feet in total before the second part of the magical item kicked in. A small flap on the tail turned and the plane started a large, lazy circle, first to the right, then to the left. It finally straightened back out and the tool powered down, it lost velocity and altitude slowly.

Then it plowed straight into the ground. I'd sort of expected that to happen, with nobody onboard to manually control the descent, and myself honestly not knowing exactly how it should go I just gave the magical program my best bet. I watched as the plane crashed, going end over end.

“Landing needs work,” grandfather observed.

“Yeah, if I had to guess I overestimated the angle it should come down at. It flew though,” I answered.

“That it did my boy, that it did.”

We quietly gathered up the pieces, putting them in a box. It looked a lot worse than it was, with one wing definitely needing replacement and the tail snapped off. All of this could be repaired with ease now that we knew what to make.

“I think we need to order a full sized one,” I said as we finished.

“What about getting a working model first?” he said with a laugh.

“The model works, just need to adjust the procedure. Getting a sized one made will take time though.”

“Months and months if we want it done right, and we decidedly do. Ah, just about the amount of time you'd need for your yearly school break isn't it Percival?” he teased.

“Just a coincidence surely,” I replied, waving it off with a smile we both understood.

He was right of course. Schools here had a weird system, with something akin to a spring break in the summer, and large one in the winter so that none of us missed The Season, how thoughtful of them. I was hoping to time this so that I could come home, say hi to my parents, and then get a first flight in a real plane we made.

Grandfather and I slowly walked back to the house. We'd been using one of the fields near his estate that was currently fallow, something they owned but rented off to others most of the time. It was one of the way nobles nowadays made money, buying land and then renting it to others, a tried and true strategy.

“You're back already?” grandmother said as we ended our walk across the lawn. “And here I thought you'd be out all day.”

“Things went well,” I informed her.

“Did they now?” she replied with a raised eyebrow, looking into the box I was carrying. “Are you quite sure?”

“It did,” grandfather said with a bit of a harrumph. “The machine flew stunningly, you should have joined us.”

“Perhaps next time dear, assuming you can get it put back together from your 'successful' test. As it stands though I'm glad you returned early, there are a number of tools the local mayor brought by hoping you might look at and charge.”

Of course the other main source of income for nobles was dealing with magical tools and artifacts. It took magic to do it, and while there were some commoners with magic, there were never enough. Magic was the oil of this world and there was a ceaseless hunger for more, more tools, more solutions, more spells. It filled too many niches to be anything else.

“Well, let me get this downstairs and send Percival off,” grandfather began.

“Nonsense,” his wife answered. “Let the boy help you. He's old enough for that and many hands make light work do they not? I've already filled what I can for the moment, now you two need to stop playing with your toys and get to work.” Her piece said she shooed us off.

“Was she always that pushy?” I asked once we were out of earshot.

“She's only that way when you kids are involved. When it's just the two of us she's quite fun. Don't judge her for it, she really does want the best for you Percival.” I briefly wondered what he considered 'kids' being that he'd lived for quite some time already.