Celestial Hymn 33 (Patreon)

Celestial Hymn
Chapter 33

-VB-

I winced as the Celestial Forge reached out and pulled down two separate motes of power onto my soul.

The first of the two was Pale Ore. It was a physical ore of … not quite mythical properties but certainly magical ones. Any weapon or armor I made from it would possess edge and strength would only be matched by other magical tools.

Clunk.

I also got a shipment of it every week that would just magically appear, but it was a small box of only a few handfuls of the stuff.

‘Actually, Forge, can you hear me?’

I heard nothing back.

‘Is it possible for me to designate a location where all of the new things you pull will appear at? I don’t want to sound ungrateful, but it would be awful to wake up if I get married and a box slams into my wife’s face in the morning.’

I got no response back.

I’ll know the answer when next week came around.

The second gift, Antimatter Manipulation Principle, came in two parts: one part direct gravitonic manipulation and one part knowledge on how to make technology that emulates the ability. The first was the ability to manipulate gravity in such a way that I would never ever take fall damage as long as I was awake and lucid enough to handle the power. The second part was the knowledge necessary to make hovering platforms or giant planetoids within Earth’s atmosphere if I really wanted to.

I got up on my bed and then jumped forward.

It took me three seconds to gently glide down, and by the end of it, I was giggling like a little kid.

Ideas formed within my head. Building a floating city would be hard, but using AMP would actually help me with making a Mass Effect warship and vice versa.

… I needed to start building. I have all of this political and financial capital now. I didn’t need to dilly dally any longer. I was ready. I have been ready for some time: a base of operation, a will, and required manpower and resources.

Why was I delaying?

I stood up from where I landed after my brief gliding and sat back down on the bed.

Why did I hesitate?

I hesitated because … I was unsure about the process. I had the bare basics of an organization, but my trust in that organization was not as complete as I liked. Building what I wanted would also require such a large quantity of resources that bottleneck becomes a real possibility for iron and and and -.

I’m just delaying. I just don’t want to commit because I’m scared that … I’ll fail.

Because building a warship of that scale will be the first true challenge I would have.

My arms, which had risen up to grasp my hair in frustration in my inner tirade, fell away and slumped by my side.

I hesitated because the prospect of failure scared me. That’s why, even after months of being in Kings Landing, I busied myself with politics, intrigue, and charity work because … because they were easy.

I WAS STILL HESITATING! STILL NARRATING INSIDE MY HEAD ABOUT MYSELF!

I shot up. My heart pounded, I felt sick, and I wanted to stop.

Instead of following my body, I surged forward, grabbing whatever clothes I could throw on without looking shameful, and burst out of my room in the Red Keep.

“Steward!”

-VB-

“Milord?” Wilhelm spoke up after entering his lord’s office in Kings Landing.

Thanks to the portal Lord Marris made between his Kings Landing manor and Brownspear, Wilhelm could travel back and forth Stormlands and Crownlands with ease. It was a wonderful method of transportation, only marred by its uniqueness and the milord’s unwillingness to open it to maesters and other nobles, not even the king.

“Come take a seat, Wilhelm,” the young lord greeted him with a smile.

He closed the door behind him and sat as his lord instructed.

“Here is your new order,” Lord Marris said as he handed him a parchment. Wilhelm took the order and skimmed it.

His eyes nearly popped out, and looked up in shock. “Milord-!”

“It’s just a statue,” he shrugged as if he hadn’t just ordered one thousand tons worth of iron to be imported and for his own foundry to mass produce another thousand tons. “We have the money and resources for it.”

“It is frivolous!”

“It’ll serve as a defensive measure.”

Wilhelm paused when his lord said that. “... Will it be another one of your tower, milord?”

He nodded. “It will be a stationary tower on the other side of the town,” he replied. “Iron is necessary for the magic I am considering.”

“Very well, milord,” Wilhelm sighed. He trusted the young man. If he said it was needed, then it really was (to an extent). “Do you have preference as to where the iron is imported from?”

“I do,” he replied. “The Vale is known for its mountains, and I am sure that the number of knights and soldiers the Vale’s knightly houses and lords employe surely mean that they must have some source they get their iron from. If it is possible, I want you to buy iron ore from them. If it is not possible, then put us in contact with Braavos. I’m sure many of their rich and powerful will appreciate fine art. I want this project within the year if it possible.”

Oh.

Oh, that’s gonna be hard.