Chapter 4: industry of innovations

Fires in the furnaces were being lit by the stokers as the other workers of the metal foundry began to sift their way into work for the first shift. The logistical needs of the day would be established, and raw iron ore would be melted down and forged. In the case of this steel mill in particular, the steel shaped into the standard-gauge rail to expand upon the fledgling railroad system that began to stretch its way across the continent.

With the advent of the steam engine, work that previously had to be done by hand or with the assistance of work animals could now be done with greater speed and efficiency than ever before — transportation was one of those industries. Rails and trestles were laid at first to connect the major cities and towns to one another for ease of transportation of civilians who did not wish to either walk, ride, or fly.. It didn't take long for the shipment of industrial and agricultural products to follow.

If their production of the rails ceased, then they would slow down progress across the nation because of it.

Derick Atkyn, the owner and supervisor of the steel mill, was currently making his regular rounds, checking to ensure that the plant was working both safely and optimally. Speed was important, but a skilled laborer who was unable to work was a dead-weight on the system. The less accidents, the better the morale. The better the morale, the more productive the workers become.

He could have had a site supervisor do the work, but he saw smiles creep up the beaks of the avians hard at work at the sight of him, knowing that he actually cared for them, unlike some of the other business owners that they read about in newspapers. Once all of the safety checks were made, and the employees checked, Derrick returned to the offices with a positive pep in his step.

Not too long after he entered his office and sat down, preparing to do some paperwork, a knock sounded on his door. "Come in!" he said, not looking up from the papers.

The door swung open to reveal a familiar face to the avian. It was a rough-looking man of similar age to himself, with scars visible on his scaly forearms, streaking through his facial feathers. "Good day," he greeted.

"Good morning, Kelly," Derrick replied, holding out his hand to his guest. Kelly reached out in reply and they shook hands. The visitor took a seat opposite to the manager, and produced a pack of cigarettes and a box of matches from his pants pocket, struck up a match, and lit the rolled tobacco. "You got one of those to spare?" Derrick questioned.

Kelly obliged and passed the still-open pack and open matchbox to the other male, who took a single match and cigarette, and lit it too. Both avians took a draw from their respective lights before engaging in further conversation. "So, Kelly, What brings you here?"

"Eh, just wanted to drop by for a bit before I get back to work myself. Still plenty of orders to fill, ya know?" he answered back.

"Still under that weapons contract? Trying to draw it out to keep getting that sweet, government money?" Derrick asked sarcastically. If he was, it wouldn't be that different from others trying to draw out a steady source of income. Although in the eyes of the public, it was usually seen as a scummy business practice.

"Somewhat," said Kelly, taking another draw off of his cigarette. "We have a lot of orders for guns and a high-skill requirement to manufacture them. It's not like working here where you learn one particular skill in a week, and then you're somewhere in the mill making steel. It takes training to not only operate the machinery needed to mill the parts, but also the skill to assemble all of the pieces together."

"That's understandable. It's easy to become a cog in the machine of this place: coal stoking, feeding the ore, this, that, and the other. Most of it is repetitive, but simple work. There are some tasks that are more complex and require greater focus, but what you are doing, yeah, it's understandable."

"Yep…"

For a moment, they both sat there, taking draws off their cigarettes, not really having much else to talk about. It gave both of them a brief moment of respite from their respective work. Both of them had pushed themselves to meet the expectations that were placed upon them, even at the expense of their personal wellbeing.

The twenty-year-old civilian and military expansion initiative had been started by the late king Dylan, and both businessmen had a stake in both. Derrick, at the moment, produced rails for the railroad that would help connect the kingdom far and wide. Kelly produced the battle rifles that would be used by the military when it was time for the invasion to take place. The success and legacy of the previous monarch fell on their shoulders, determined by the ability of either of them to produce their products.

Even with two years remaining, it was hard to ignore the pressure that was placed upon them, even though both were operating as fast as either of them could output.

"Well, I think I'm gonna go back to my shop," Kelly announced, standing up, taking one final draw off the cigarette before leaving it in the ashtray to smolder out. The visiting avian stretched his arms and wings out, then let out a satisfied sigh. "I'll see you around." Kelly left, leaving Derrick alone in the room of wispy tobacco smoke.

Left alone, he got back to dealing with the paperwork that was involved with the overall operation of the business. Quite some time would pass before another knock sounded on the door, and the avian welcomed in the visitor. Unlike the grizzled gunsmith and manufacturer, this fellow was more refined. He stood a little shorter than Derrick, but seemed to have a stockier build. His feathers were well kept, and his avian scales were treated with similar vanity.

What would make this Buteo stand out was the clothing that he wore. It was a very particular dark overcoat, with shined metal buttons. The pants were of the same dark color; his boots looked as if they were just recently shined, and he wore a fine leather satchel that appeared full with its contents. If his occupation wasn't already obvious, the officer's cap gave it away.

"What can I help you with, sir?" the forge owner spoke, greeting the man with respect and dignity. There was no need to disrespect a service member.

The guest politely nodded, and replied. "Good morning, Mr. Atkyn. I've come bringing papers regarding your son, Lyle." His hand reached down into the satchel and a moment later he procured an envelope tied up with twine. Right on the envelope, Lyle's name and address were printed on it, and the return address was the local recruitment office. "I've tried your home, but there was no one there to receive these documents. I've heard that this was your business, and have brought it by here."

Derrick shook his head. There had to be some kind of mistake. There was not a draft going on, and he never mentioned the idea of enlisting in the first place. It left him more confused than anything. "This is completely unlike him!" he protested. This was not how things were meant to be. Lyle was the one that he would pass down the business to when he himself would become too old to run it, not be some cannon fodder on the front lines when the time came.

"The paperwork says otherwise," the messenger affirmed to him. "All of the papers have been properly filled out and he signed it himself. He's eighteen, and can legally make that decision to enlist without the permission of a parent."

All of this left the metal-worker completely bemused. It just didn't seem like it was possible for his son to have done what he did, especially when so much had already been laid out for him to live an easy and comfortable life at the expense of some hours in the office, and doing his inspections to ensure the plant was running safely and smoothly. What was going through his son's mind?

"As his father, I entrust you to deliver these documents to him as soon as possible regarding his recruitment," the messenger said, laying down the parcel and sliding it to him. Derrick was still in denial about it, so much so that the package felt so surreal to him.

"I'll… I'll see to it, sir…"

"Good, thank you for the cooperation. I've heard from the recruitment office that he has some great potential," the visitor said, reaching out his hand for Derrick to shake. He reluctantly shook it. The messenger got back up, and exited just as promptly as he entered.

"Lyle… what the hell have you gotten yourself into…?" Derrick mused to himself distantly. What had caused his son to make such a decision? The answer to that question eluded him no matter how much he thought about it. Perhaps he didn't know his son as well as he thought that he did. Hell, he didn't even know where he was or what he did more than half the time.

/\/\/\

Later that day at the palace, the two leaders of the avian kingdom ambled around in the gardens. Among the various well-kept flowers were fresh vegetables for the kitchen cooks to use in their meals. For Bevan and Jadney, it was a well-needed relief to the stressors that came with the life-long job of ruling the kingdom. Advisors helped to ease that load a lot, allowing the level of micromanagement that they would be incapable of achieving. The monarchs wore light and airy clothing in the late spring, and a light breeze helped to keep them cool on the warm afternoon.

The aroma of the flowers was something that Jadney was fond of, and it was thanks to the master gardeners who took note of her preferences. Bevan on the other hand, wasn't all that fond of flowers and their scents, as he found that they had a habit of overloading his nostrils and giving him headaches. How Jadney was able to tolerate it was a mystery to him.

While the lady was thoroughly enjoying the pleasant walk, Bevan's mind was elsewhere. Two more years remained before the plan would be put into play, and the invasion of the Dragon Realms would be undertaken. Already, they had made great advances in their technology and ability, yet uncertainty still welled up within him. His face was long and foreboding, and his eyes were unfocused. Had it not been for them walking hand in hand, he would have been like that all afternoon.

It was not long before Jadney took notice of his grim mood, and gave his hand a gentle squeeze. "What's wrong? You seem out of it…" she pointed out, showing concern for him.

His eyes came back into focus, and turned to look into hers as he spoke back to her. "My mind is a little troubled, that all," he understated. There was nothing little about what the kingdom had been planning.

"You're not a good liar, you know."

He breathed out a prolonged sigh as he gave her hand a squeeze in reply. It was great to know that he always had some form of company that kept him functioning. "It's the plans again; I'm just thinking about —"

"Bevan, hun, there's no need for you to worry about that right now. There's still time before that has to be done."

"I know that… but —"

No sooner than when he tried to object, he found that she had put a finger across his beak and shushed him.

"I know the stress that you are going through — trust me, I go through it too. But worrying about it will turn you into a grey-tailed hawk," she reasoned with a bit of humor. "This is a military matter, why not let all the worrying lay on O'Brian?"

The rough-legged hawk had a good point. There was no real reason for why he was truly worrying over it as much as he was when it would be the Field Marshal, Parker O'Brian, who would be the one at the top of the operations.

Another sigh left his beak. "I… I don't know…" he admitted. Yes, there was some degree of anxiety that came with war that everyone, not just those in charge, faced. Yet, it seemed that he was shouldering much more of that burden.

Jadney slowly pulled herself closer to him and gave him a reassuring hug, resting her head against his chest and allowing for his head to rest upon hers. It was those little, affectionate actions that helped to relieve the stress and tension in his mind. And slowly, his arms wrapped around her waist, grateful for the support she gave.

"I guess it's that I'm afraid… afraid to fail…" he whispered softly.

"Whatever happens, know this..." The female avian pulled away slightly, looking up into his vibrant, golden eyes. "...You will never be a failure to me…"

Her words left him with a fuzzy feeling in his chest as he softly cooed back to her. "Thank you, Jadney… I don't know what I would do without you."

A feeling of pride swelled up within the female avian as she worked her magic to help her husband out of his rut once again. "So, what do you say that we put this whole invasion stuff behind us for now and let us finish or walk?"

"Yeah… I think that I'd like that…" Bevan replied back softly, slowly pulling away from her embrace, his mind now in a better place, even if it was only for the moment.

With that, his Queen returned to his side, slipping her hand back into his, and both of them continued to walk through the palace gardens. The Queen had successfully put the King's mind at ease. While the relief was only temporary, it allowed for the both of them to enjoy their little outing. There would come a day where the war would be all that would be on his mind, but today would not be that day.

/\/\/\

Meanwhile, a magician from the basement laboratory began to journey home. It was becoming increasingly clear that more and more of his time was spent away either working or assisting with an ongoing project with the magicians, or locked away in his office where he would ponder over the many things that went through his mind. The workload was large, and with a lull in their assigned tasks, it allowed him the opportunity to go to his home and take a break.

Bradan made sure that his office was tidied up and ready to get back to work whenever he got back, before procuring a set of keys from his desk drawer, standing up and walking out of the private space. He locked the office doors, and made his way to exit the laboratory, giving smiling waves and nods to the other magicians that toiled over their respective projects. Once all of his silent passing remarks were made, he left the lab and made his way up to the lobby.

Inside of the palace, there was always some form of activity going on with a lot of people moving in and out, from place to place. Because of that, there were frequent security checks by the royal guard, an elite contingent of the Royal Quillian Army, whose order came directly from the king or Queen, and served as their personal security force. Their numbers were small, but their proficiency in combat showed that they were capable of handling anything.

The head magician went through such a check, and once identified and approved, exited the châteauesque style manor. Once outside, he unfolded his wings after a running start, and took to the air. He beat his wings until he got to a manageable altitude, allowing himself to passively glide towards his residence. After a few miles of flight, his humble residence — compared to where he had just come from — came into view.

Technically, he lived on the same estate that the royal family did, which was a gracious opportunity they provided. The dwelling in question was a two-story house that had a wrap-around porch on the first floor, and a wrap-around balcony on the second floor. From the onset, it was evident that this was a former large servants' house. The dairy farms were not that far away, giving credence to its origin. Newer dwellings were constructed in better quality and closer in proximity to the farms, making the older one redundant to the servants.

His wings tilted a little, and a slow descent was made towards the house, circling over it a few times before the avian's shoes touched the ground — another smooth landing. From there, he went to the front door, finding it locked. Procuring his keys from his pocket, he unlocked the door and made his way into the large dwelling. "Katrine, I'm home!" he announced, closing the door behind him.

He ambled further into the home from the foyer, heading towards the living room. Sitting there in a rocking chair with her feet up on the ottoman was the person in question. The plumage on her neck was white with sprinkles of grey, transitioning to grey with sprinkles of white beginning at her brows and wrapping around the top of her head and down her back. Hiding under her clothing, her striking red feathers would show their brilliance, all blending near seamlessly.

Her vibrant blue eyes, an uncommon trait for hawks, were darting back and forth on the pages of the large tome in her avain-scaled hands. Bradan's arrival drew her away from the book — having a bookmark readied and soon afterwards placed in the pages. She sat the book aside and looked at him with a discontent expression. "For a while there, I thought that I would have to sneak into the palace just to spend some time with you," she began in a slightly scolding voice.

Bradan began shedding his formal layers, taking off the trench coat he wore around the lab, and removing his shoes, casting both of them off to the side. He knew good and well that she had every right to feel the way she did, considering that, especially with his new side-project, he spent much less time at home and much more time in the laboratory, or out doing research in the field.

"Because as of late, you've been staying more and more nights over in the palace basement. And I know that the Raemes' have built little dorm rooms for all of the magicians to stay there if they so choose..." Katrine continued on while Bradan sat in the chair nearest to her.

By the end of it, she had put up some decent arguments, ones that a bookworm like herself could do so with confidence. Meanwhile, the greatest magical mind of the kingdom was having a hard time trying to justify claims that were up against him. He earned it though. In the balance of life spent at home or at work, his scales went way in favor of work over his wife, and his soon-to-be family.

"I'm sorry, Katrine. But there's just so much to do…"

"Then why not recruit more magicians? I know that you have a stash of those green gems hidden away and you could easily recruit more."

Hidden away in the palace vault, there resided a collection of green gems that had been down there for eighteen years. When the dragons of the dark army left, the gems no longer seemed to generate. What they had stored was all that they had left. "That's something that I have pondered before… but it wouldn't be that simple, and those are the last green gems that we have. The rest of us have experience; we'd have to pull resources away to train the new recruits... then again…"

Her expression began to peak up a little as the gears in his mind began to turn. All he needed was a little push. "Then again…?" she inquired.

"While it would kill our productivity while they are being trained, the added help of extra recruits would make things a lot easier on everyone else."

"See? You just weren't thinking in the long term. I understand that with all of the tasks that you have to do, it's hard to see things in the long run, but the more people that you have, the better off you will be."

The frown on Bradan's face began to grow into a timid smile. "Yeah, I suppose so… I'll keep that in mind and will see what I can do, alright?"

Katrine slowly stood up from her chair and mosied her way over to him. He looked up to her, and her head reached out for his. Naturally, he took it, and rose to his feet. "I'm worried about you," Katrine murmured. "We're gonna be a family soon, and you need to be a part of it. I know you are passionate about your studies, but I don't want to have to go through all of this alone."

"I'm sorry, Katrine…" he hugged his arms around her.

"I forgive you, Bradan… Promise me that you'll do better next time, alright…?" she whispered into his ear softly.

"I will do the best that I can…"