The morning sun had barely warmed the windowpanes when a knock came at my door.
"Young lord," came Gareth's voice. "A message for you. Your order is ready. They're waiting."
I was already out of bed. Finally.
I grabbed the small iron cube from my desk, the one Mnex and I had etched a new power rune onto last night. It was still faintly warm, and I could feel the mana pulsing inside it. Back in the day, I would've had to concentrate hard to sense it, but now… now I felt it without even trying. If things went right today, this thing would become the heart of every machine we'd ever build.
Tucking the cube under my arm, I stepped into the hallway and practically jogged to the door.
Tilda's Temper was in the blacksmith district to the west of the city. I walked briskly toward the stables, practically a speed-walking contest in my head then mounted my horse and galloped off. Dust kicked up around my boots as I dismounted in front of the smithy. The heavy doors were wide open, hammering sounds echoing from within.
They were waiting for me.
Tilda stood at the anvil, arms crossed. Soot smudged her cheeks, and her eyes sparkled with anticipation. Rastlin leaned against a nearby bench, arms folded, wood shavings clinging to his shirt. Both of them looked like they'd just reinvented the world.
"Took you long enough," Tilda said with a faint smile.
"I came as soon as I heard," I said, lifting the iron cube. "Our power source is here."
"Then let's see if your magic device does what you claim," Rastlin muttered.
The gear sat beside the forging bench like a challenge waiting to be answered.
A simple wooden frame cradled the solid metal cogs, the side-mounted assembly gleaming faintly in the forge light. It wasn't built for beauty, only to see if the spinning mechanism would obey. No production yet. This was just the trial run. If it worked, the grinder would be next.
I stepped forward and placed the iron cube into the power slot. The runes lit up, one after another.
The gear trembled. Shifted.
But… didn't spin.
Mnex's voice chimed in immediately.
"Not enough torque. Told you. The structure's too small. This won't generate the force needed for crushing or grinding. You need more power and a bigger lever."
Tilda raised an eyebrow. "That was it?"
"First test," I said, eyes narrowed. "We're just getting started."
Mnex chuckled.
"Welcome to the Industrial Age, Henry.
Also known as: The Era of Eternal Mechanical Failure."
Two days later, when I returned to the forge, the atmosphere had completely shifted. The excitement on Tilda's face had given way to steely focus. Rastlin was drenched in sweat, his clothes soaked in oil, soot, and metal dust.
The moment I stepped inside, I spotted the massive thing dominating the workshop.
A new gear.
At least three times the size of the original. The teeth were thicker, the body forged from sturdy Tildalium alloy. It had been mounted with wooden supports and looked like it could knock down a castle gate.
"If this one doesn't work, you owe me a good bottle of wine, young lord," Tilda said, exhausted but proud.
Rastlin shook his head. "Not making another one of these. If I do, I'm charging double."
"You're working for free right now," I said, grinning.
"Knowledge isn't free, Henry," Mnex rumbled.
I pulled out the same iron cube. This time, we'd etched extra runes on its surface, several layers of the same primary source runes, stacked in series. Hopefully, it would be enough.
Everyone held their breath.
The runes activated.
Mana flowed.
The gear... didn't budge.
Then it shuddered, just a bit.
Then silence again.
Mnex sighed. "There's movement, but no momentum. Too much friction. The inertia from the weight is swallowing the rune's output. In simple terms: you're trying to kick a whale into motion."
"So... it's useless?" I asked.
"Have you ever tried kicking a whale?"
Rastlin sank onto a stool. "This plan of yours isn't genius, it's cursed. I'm telling you… this thing is cursed!"
Tilda laughed. "We went too big. The first was too small, and this one... too much."
"Somewhere in between is the perfect size," I said.
Mnex agreed. "Exactly. And that gear will be the one that annoys you most, because it'll work… just not right away."
"Meaning?"
"Meaning we'll need to give it a manual push. Like winding a clock."
I rolled my eyes. "Why didn't you say that earlier?"
"Because it's more fun watching your dreams rise before I crush them. Builds character, don't you think?"
Everything changed with the third design.
Tilda said nothing. Rastlin didn't complain. They just worked… quietly, efficiently. We'd all learned from our failures. The new gear was half the size of the previous one, but much smarter in design. Better balanced. The cogs were made of lightweight alloy, the internal bearings carefully polished. And this time, following Mnex's advice, we added a small hand crank next to the gear. Once the rotation started, the runes would take over. All we needed… was that initial spark.
"This one's going to work," I said, slotting the cube into the rune socket.
"I'm not even betting anymore," Tilda said softly. The disappointment from before had been replaced by cautious hope.
Rastlin stepped to the crank. "Say when."
"Now."
He grabbed the handle with both hands and turned. The gear didn't leap into action, not immediately. First, there was a low groan. Then, slowly, it began to turn. One full rotation. The second came easier. On the third… the runes kicked in.
The system was live.
The hand crank disengaged, and the gear kept spinning on its own.
"It worked," I whispered. "It actually worked."
I stared at the machine. "So... why did this one succeed?"
Mnex answered.
"The runes were flawless. Push and Pull triggered each other in a loop. Flow, Stabilize, and Bind transferred the force forward, step by step. But the system lacked natural momentum. It's like a train, rails set, fuel loaded, but without a nudge, it stays still.
You gave it that nudge. And now, the loop sustains itself."
He paused.
"At this point, it's self-propelling. A perfect energy cycle."
The gear's turning echoed across the workshop, the scrape of metal teeth against the wooden frame, the breeze it stirred, even the faint tremble of stones beneath our feet. It was more than an experiment now. It was a milestone.
Mnex's voice hummed in my mind.
"The gear is spinning. Power is stable. Friction under control. Force transfer successful. Henry...
I might be getting ahead of myself, but this setup... could be the foundation for at least five different machines."
"A crusher?"
"With the right head, yes. A grinder? Easy. Dough mixer? With a small tweak. A churner, rotary sieve, even..."
"An ice cream maker?" I asked.
"...Seriously? That's your first thought? But yes. It would probably make damn good ice cream."
Tilda stared at the gear like she was watching a dream come to life. "We could use this for other things."
Rastlin chuckled. "Leave the dreaming to the young lord."
I smiled. Relief flooded me. But more than that, there was a spark, a hum of something bigger. This was only the beginning.
The gear kept spinning, steady and sure. Everyone's faces lit up, but my mind was already racing ahead.
Then it hit me.
If we built the mixer at the factory like we'd planned, by the time the wet cement reached the city, it would be halfway to becoming a useless rock. Moving that much weight fast enough? Not happening.
I glanced at the gear again. Smaller. Portable. If we could mount a version of this on a cart, we could bring the mixer to the construction site instead of dragging half-solid concrete through the city.
Mnex hummed.
"Ah! God dammit! I was about to crush one of your dreams again… but you beat me to it."
"Shut up," I muttered.
This wasn't a setback. This was an upgrade.
If one gear could turn, so could another. And another. Hundreds. Thousands. Across the city. Across the kingdom.
"Mnex," I said quietly. "What's the next step?"
The reply came without hesitation.
"Mass production begins."