{{At the end of this chapter, there are conversations that might make some people uncomfortable, even those who share my point of view. Still, I wrote them on my own and with the best intentions.}}
Last night, after Hunt and Selene left, I stayed with Durman trying to explain how we make the glass jars. He had already seen how others shaped the glass, and out of envy, he bought sand to try it himself. Although he thought his "creations" were good (I'd say they weren't that great), I couldn't stop thinking they could be much better if he learned from Emiliano. As for our molds, they have imperfections that transfer to the final product, so with the subdimension tools, I fixed those imperfections. (I'm cheating a little, using our tools, yes, but if Hunt doesn't know, it's fine. :P) It wasn't just for vanity—the more beautiful the jar looked, the more it would attract the merchants' eyes, and they'd buy the mayonnaise just for the jar.
Ω ― Ω ― Ω
Today was going to be a very long day, and I knew we would be working non-stop. When we arrived at the workshop, the artisans were already there, ready and eager; you could tell they wanted to finish the printing press and start printing. On Mateo's table, there was a huge stack of paper—more than a pile, it looked like a small mountain—and several large bags of powdered ink. The secretaries, Marte and Otilia, prepared the ink, a thick, dark liquid with a strong smell that filled the air.
Hunt, as always, had slipped away to "manage" the company, though he actually spent several hours teaching the children. Later, he also worked with Emiliano and the glass jars and had the brilliant idea of using the kitchen oven to cool them gradually. Doing it this way, that is, slow cooling, prevents thermal shock that can cause internal stresses and microcracks, capable of breaking the glass almost spontaneously in future use—a disaster for our company, especially for marketing.
The paper, for now, is coarse, rough, and stiff… and extremely expensive. But being so thick has its perks: the ink doesn't bleed through to the other side, allowing us to use a simple yet effective technique. I have eight hours to print as many math and language books as possible, so I decided to work in two-hour blocks. I spent the first two hours on the even-numbered pages of the math book, then hung them to dry like clothes, on long lines stretched across the workshop. Using the FIFO system (First In, First Out), I made sure that by the time I started on the odd-numbered pages, the even sides would already be dry.
As soon as I started, I threw myself into printing non-stop. My goal was clear: to produce one hundred copies of each book… but I quickly realized that would be almost impossible. It takes two minutes to print each page. There are eleven of us on the team. If I prepare the patterns for the next page in advance, I can reduce the model-change time. I could handle it myself, or maybe Sandro could place all the patterns at once. Val would place the sheet, Paco and Hannes would ink the patterns with the pads, already dipped in the ink dishes. Mateo would operate the press, Val would remove the sheet and hand it to Grzegorz, who would hang it. Jean would handle drying. Dome would remove the patterns from the press and, with Varo, clean them so I could reorganize them. Sandro and Fabien could rotate on these tasks.
And still… with all the changes and adjustments, each page still took about two minutes. In two hours for the even pages, with a twenty-page book not counting covers, that's ten different pages. That means in 120 minutes, I get sixty prints. Ten different types… so only six complete copies of the math book by the end of the day. (Damn it all, damn, damn. Six damn books. Damn. With six books, you can't even brag about having a printing press.)
The book, by the way, turned out very well for Hunt. It starts by explaining numbers 1 through 9, then 0, moves on to units and tens, then addition and subtraction, explains negative numbers, multiplication, the times tables from 1 to 10, and in the last three pages, division. Everything is very well structured… though he didn't need to use me as an example in every exercise. (Example: Neo has no gold coins. That is, Neo has 0 gold coins). Very funny.
The food was Hunt's responsibility, and although he acted a bit laid-back, he actually put a lot of effort into it. He prepared fries with rib steaks and some salad. That said, he's never one to complicate things, so his cooking style was simple and straightforward. Even so, the fries turned out delicious crispy on the outside and soft on the inside. We all ate together, in a relaxed and almost festive atmosphere, celebrating the work we had accomplished.
After lunch, we returned to printing, this time with the language booklets, following the same technique: one side first, let it dry, then the other. But it was more complicated. We managed no more than four copies. The letters… everything required more precision, and the ink took longer to dry. Fatigue was starting to show, and with it, a few mistakes slipped in.
By the end of the day, we had produced a total of ten books. Not even half of what we wanted for the marchioness. The original plan was ambitious: one hundred math books and one hundred language books, to give her a complete set and begin spreading knowledge throughout the city. But time ran out, and the clock marked the end of the workday.
When most people had already left, Hunt and I stayed behind alone. We decided to make one last effort: five more booklets, this time advanced math, with concepts from linear algebra. The formulas were a challenge I had to draw parentheses and matrices by hand because we still didn't have templates to print such complex symbols. It was exhausting, yes, but also thrilling.
While we worked, just the two of us on those advanced booklets, we talked about new ideas we could tackle next week, ideas like a slide rule to make mathematical calculations easier. Hunt wanted it made of wood, simple, while I preferred it in metal, more durable and sturdy. But for that, we first needed to make steel plates, and from there start working in heavy industry things like rolling machines, electric or steam engines to power the machines, and planning to create boilers and systems that would distribute power to different tools.
We began dreaming about the potential uses for the Magiston crystals. Especially as a heat source for boilers, to generate steam and start a power cycle, for machines that could multiply our strength and productivity. (I ended the day exhausted, but with my head full of projects and plans. I knew the road ahead would be long and difficult, but I also knew we were taking the first steps to change everything around us.)
I got home very late. Luckily, after finishing the math books, the general girls stayed to bind them exactly as Marte and Otilia had taught them. They had to stay a couple of extra hours to finish binding all the language books, but when we told them we'd pay 1.5 times their extra hours, they didn't complain; I don't think they would have even if we paid the usual rate, but it seemed fair to us.
Well, in the end, I got home super late. Durman and Astrid were already asleep, and Dalia was waiting for me in the workshop, improving her mini-furnace based on mine.
I snuck up behind her, trying not to make a sound, and grabbed her by the waist; she nearly fell off the chair, startled. After a brief scolding, I took a shower and had dinner while watching her study my furnace and take notes.
●― Want some? ― I asked, lifting the plate toward her.
― Dalia — No, I've already eaten. ―
●― Come on, open your mouth… ― I said, moving the fork in circles. ― Look, the little airplane! ― She tilted her head, frowning.
― Dalia — Why are you moving your hand like that and saying those weird words? ―
●― It's… a game my mom used to play with me when I was a kid to get me to eat when I didn't want to. ―
― Dalia — That doesn't make sense. What sense does it make? ― She said, moving the fork away, trying not to smile.
●― I don't know… but come on, try it. ―
She shook her head, but in the end, we shared my dinner. These moments, when everyone else disappears and it's just her and me (and Antón), feel like a true gift from God. Not just for the company, but for the way her hair moves, the way she examines the furnace, turning it around, holding it with one hand while writing with the other—by the way, she's ambidextrous. The subtle way she puts down her pen, and how she occasionally stands up, walks around, comes back, and leaves again. She sits, tapping a foot, reviewing runes, writing them, changing something, combining them into a bigger rune.
― Dalia — You don't get tired of staring at me like a fool. ―
●― No, that's because I'm in love with you. ―
― Dalia — Don't say nonsense. Go to sleep or help me, but don't keep bothering me. ― She tucked her hair behind her ear.
●― I think I'll go to sleep then. ― I stood up and, from behind her, grabbed her by the waist to lift her onto my shoulder.
― Dalia — Wait, I was about to figure out how you did… ―
●― Shh, let's go to sleep. It's late, and you have work tomorrow. ―I set her down on the first step of the staircase leading to the second floor, leveling our heights.
― Dalia — Tomorrow you're going with the marchioness, right? ― She wrapped her arms around my neck.
●― Unfortunately, yes. ―
― Antón — Seeing the marchioness isn't unfortunate. ― He said from behind me, as if he had appeared out of nowhere, just like he has ever since the marchioness ordered him to "accompany me" at all times.
●― Bro, you wretch, not even a minute with my future wife you let me have. ― I complained, turning around to look at him, which Dalia used to climb onto my back piggyback-style.
― Dalia —like in that story of yours, off to the windmills. ― She half-shouted.
I motioned to Antón to go up the stairs first, but he looked at me strangely, as if calculating whether there was an escape through the window.
●― Go up first, come on. ―
― Antón — why? ―
●― Because if you go up behind, you'd be sinning… or could have impure thoughts. ― I said, pressing Dalia's thighs tighter so she wouldn't slip.
― Dalia — What are you two talking about? ― She asked, confused, peering over my shoulder.
― Antón — …I see. ― He sighed before climbing up.
After changing clothes, I collapsed onto the bed, and Dalia settled, as always, half on top of me.
― Dalia — Tell me another story from your world… ―
●― Okay…― I began to tell her the story of a young mermaid princess of the sea. (Mermaids exist in this world.) When I was about to tell her the ending, I noticed she was almost asleep.
●― Just when I was going to tell you that, as the sun rose, her body turned into foam on the waves… ― I whispered, watching her sleep. In that moment, I remembered when she confessed that the sound of my heartbeat and breathing calms her. I stayed looking at her, letting myself be cuddled by the same rhythm that now kept her at peace.
Ω ― Ω ― Ω
Among my many mistakes with the reading book, I have to say I was already tired… and I wasn't even the one working the hardest. The boys started asking me questions, unsure about Tolmas and God.
— Varo — Neo, can I ask you a question? —
●— Did I leave out a letter? — I said, worried.
— Varo — No. — He exhaled while smiling. — Hee… it's not about that, it's another kind of question. ―
●— Don't scare me, just tell me what's going on. ―
— Varo — The other day, when my son came over, before telling us to bring them to study. — The man took a breath. — You said some very strange words that I don't understand. ―
●— Sorry to interrupt, but how are your son and daughter doing learning with Hunt and Marte? Which class do they like the most? ―
— Varo — The older one spends all day practicing the numbers Mr. Hunt teaches him, and the little one corrects him… but that's only when they practice writing the numbers. That was the first day. Yesterday, Mr. Hunt gave them paper and ink to copy everything Miss Marte taught them. ―
— Paco — My daughters are the same, they can't stop talking about what it's like to learn and how hard it is to understand Hunt. ―
— Mateo — Mine fight one says the numbers should stay the way they are and the other hits him, saying that the numbers you teach are better, that they make more sense. ―
●— Fighting is bad, but arguing is fine. When you learn, everyone sees and understands things differently. Sharing what we've learned helps us move forward. We need to replace these old patterns with new ones. ―
— Varo — I'll… — The man said, laughing at the others' stories. After changing the patterns, he sat next to me. — That first day you said something like fortunate adventures belong to the giver, not the receiver. ―
●— Ah, okay, I get it. What I actually said is Blessed is the one who gives rather than the one who receives. It's a verse from the Bible. ―
— Varo — Hand me another sheet, Dome — He said, turning. — Excuse me, Mr. Neo, I just realized we're talking more than working. ―
●— I don't mind. Tell me what's keeping you up at night. ―
— Varo — It's that word… blessed, or however you say it. What does it mean? ―
●— Mmm… you just put me on the spot. It's a strange word for me too. I understand it as meaning that a blessed person is someone you should envy, because they are happy, experience deep spiritual joy, and enjoy life, especially in relation to God and His Kingdom. ―
— Varo — I don't recall seeing that written in Tolmas' tablets. ―
●— That's because it's not from Tolmas, it's from God. ―
— Varo — I don't understand… isn't Tolmas God? Or do you mean… do you believe in another god besides Tolmas? — He said, surprised. — Is that even possible… without getting incinerated by the Parakines? ―
●— What's that about Parakines? ―
— Antón — They're the warriors of Tolmas' temple. They're always armed and super strong. You need at least level 3 mana to get in. I could be one. — (So they follow Tolmas, huh… new workers?)
●— I believe in God… one very different from Tolmas. ―
All the artisans stopped to listen to me, leaving their stamping tools untouched.
●— What's going on, did I say something strange? Why did you all stop? ―
— Grzegorz — Aren't you afraid of Tolmas? ―
●— Afraid of Tolmas? No. ―
— Paco — Not even the Parakines? ―
●— No. ―
— Varo — With how smart you are, it's so reckless to deny Tolmas in front of all of us… ―
●— So? — I said, looking him in the eyes, almost provoking him. ―
— Sandro — Denying Tolmas is punishable by death. Aren't you afraid for your life? ―
●— No, not at all. I only fear God… well, and sometimes my mother-in-law, who would bury me alive if I misbehave. — Everyone laughed. — Seriously, the Bible says that if God is with me, who can dare to be against me?
— Fabián — You're not afraid of living outside the city, not the Parakines, not even Tolmas. ―
●— No. I've already told you, I'm not afraid. ―
— Sandro — Then your God is with you right now… I don't see Him — he said, half mocking.
●— A great teacher, many years ago, said that for a god to be the True God, it must meet three minimum conditions: know everything, be everywhere at all times, and be able to do everything.
— Jean — That doesn't make sense. A god like that can't exist. How could He know what I did this morning? ―
●— It's strange… we, as humans, will never fully understand God. Because if we could fully understand Him, wouldn't that mean we are like Him?
— Fabián — Seen that way, it makes sense that we can't understand Him. ―
— Grzegorz — Tell us more about this god of yours. ―
— Varo — Yes, tell us, what is He like? ―
●— Wait, first help me a bit, I can't do this alone. — They gathered around the printing press to keep working. — God is a mystery to everyone. We know there is only one God, but since we cannot understand Him fully, He is divided into three persons: God the Father, the Son called Jesus, and the Holy Spirit. Or at least that's what I believe. I'm not a priest and I don't understand everything… keep that in mind. ―
— Varo — Okay, you don't have all the answers, but explain to me about these "blesseds"… or whatever you called them. ―
●— There are quite a few, but if I'm not mistaken, there are eight main ones… I think. Like the other day. Let's see if I can remember: Blessed, meaning happy or fortunate, are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed is those who mourn, for they shall be comforted. Blessed is the meek, for they shall inherit the earth. Blessed is those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be filled. Blessed is the merciful, for they shall receive mercy… Wait, pass me another sheet, Varo, this one's done. ―
— Varo — Don't stop talking, I want to hear them all. ―
●— Okay, okay… I think next are: Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God. Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called children of God… and I'm missing one… mmm, of course, Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. And my favorite: Blessed are you when they insult and persecute you, and falsely say all kinds of evil against you because of me. ―
— Fabián — I don't understand… ―
●— If you want to find God, you have to be, or seek, this group of people. ―
— Varo — So we don't have to make sacrifices to be close to God. ―
●— Of course not. God came down to the world as a man that is, He was born as a human being and was called Jesus, and He died for our sins, and on the third day He rose again. ―
— Antón — But everything you tell these men is blasphemy in front of Tolmas. No one can rise from the dead. Tolmas himself says in his commandments: once dead, you shall be dead. ―
— Grzegorz — How can you say that about someone? That's a sin, Tolmas will punish you. ―
●— Maybe so, but I was born of flesh and then of spirit through baptism, so I belong to God, not Tolmas. A few years ago I prayed to God the Father, telling Him to make of me what He wills, that His will be done, not mine. I pray every day, asking Him to show me His path, His will, what He wants from me. ―
— Fabián — And does your God answer quickly?
●— God answers our prayers in three ways He says yes, take it now; or no, wait, and I'll give it to you when you truly need it; or He won't give it at all because He has something better for you. ―
— Jean — Then it's easy if He answers. ―
●— God the Father doesn't speak to us directly like you and I do; it's the Holy Spirit who does. ―
— Antón — And what is that Holy Spirit, that… thing?
●— Jesus, that is, God made man, once told a great teacher… He didn't understand it either, and Jesus asked him again: What do you hear? And the great teacher said: The wind. And Jesus said: Do you know where the wind comes from? No, said the teacher. Can you control it? No, said the teacher. And Jesus said: That's how the Holy Spirit is—you feel it and know it's Him acting. I don't know if I've explained it well, but that's how it is when God acts, you know it's Him, because it's in our nature to understand God. ―
— Varo — And the other day… Blessed isn't in the ones you just recited. ―
●— No, because the previous ones are like a map to find God. That one is another guide, a verse. Wait, we need to change the patterns, and if you allow me, I'll get a little water. ―
— Paco — I'll go. ―
●— I remember now, there's a beautiful verse that goes something like this: Do not repay anyone evil for evil. Try to do what is good in the eyes of everyone. If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone. Do not take revenge yourselves, dear brothers, but leave room for God's wrath, because it is written: 'Vengeance is mine; I will repay,' says the Lord. Instead, if your enemy is hungry, feed him; if he is thirsty, give him something to drink. Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good. ―
— Paco — But Tolmas told us that if someone harms us, we should give them the same harm back… ―
●— So you're saying that if, for example, I step on you by accident right now because we're all gathered here and in the rush I step on you, do you have the right to punch or kick me? ―
— Varo — That would be fair. ―
●— No, dear friends, that is not justice; that is wrong. ―
— Fabián — But the law of Tolmas says: return evil for evil. ―
●— I don't know about you, but I don't like it. Let's leave this topic for another time; we have work to do, and I don't want to make more mistakes than I already have, nor do I want you to hit me for accidentally hurting you. ―
— Varo — I would never hit you, after all you have given me… — The man lowered his gaze and didn't finish the sentence.
The others also remained thoughtful for a moment until Varo broke the silence.
— Varo — And how did you say I should pray to this God of yours? ―
●— It's simple. Lock yourself in your room, where no one can see or hear you. Tell Him about your day, tell God what worries you, what you're afraid of. If you want, ask Him for what you need, because He listens and will never scold you for what you've said. He won't tell anyone, and the best part is that He already knows what you're going to say, when and how you're going to say it… but still, He's with you and patiently listens. ―
— Varo — That easy, huh? ―
●— Jesus once said, come to me, all you who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light. ―
After that, we didn't speak for the rest of the day. Everyone was lost in thought, something unusual for them, as if they were pondering life itself. They spoke just enough to get the work done, but little more, given how chaotic everything always was.