Instead, researchers in Gennemont approached Alana with an idea for something new entirely: the steam-powered cart had inspired them, and they had almost completed planning on something far more ambitious. They aimed to create something like a ship that would levitate magically, while using steam to steer and propel it. Their progress impressed her, and after some back and forth, she elected to bring the team of researchers to Polimnos so they could work on the project together.
When word of this project spread, Adrissu was certain proposals would be submitted for even more new uses of steam augmentation—and sure enough, the next year, many senior theses included steam augmentation to improve or expand upon one thing or another, several of which were adjacent enough to weaponry that Adrissu denied them outright. He would have to keep a close eye on those students, even after they left the academy. Part of him was certain that something as dangerous as Kipp’s steam-powered crossbow would be developed eventually; but while he was here, he had to do what he could to slow its progress, or at least prevent it from happening in his very territory.
Luckily, projects proposed by his students were easy to keep tabs on; and for several years, it did not seem like anything threatening was on the horizon.
But, of course, the memory eventually grew stale; and over a decade later, Adrissu heard the beginnings of such a weapon being developed again. The people of Wintergrove, once cowed by three angry dragons all at once, had again chafed against the red dragon’s continued influence that stifled the growth of their city. A few brave souls were trying to pick up the research from what Granville Kipp and Daiana had left behind, this time with a far more obvious purpose: they called their weapon theDragonslayer. Adrissu knew of the moniker before even the names of the humans working on the project. The absolute gall of it was like poison sticking in his throat.
This time, its development was not associated with the Academy in any way—when he tracked down the names of those working on it, he did not recognize any of them as former students, which surprised him. It was, at best, an unsettling reminder that for all the power he had over his dominion, there was much of the world he had almost no knowledge of, and even less influence over. Regardless, he made an effort to keep tabs on the project; but with no official reason to be involved, it proved difficult to gain any information beyond the observations of others in Wintergrove and the speculation of the teachers and students at the Feld Heslyn campus.
The secondary campus, though, was doing extremely well. Ned, Eris, and their two daughters were thriving there; and every time Adrissu visited, whether on business or pleasure, Ned was excited to see him and had some piece of good news to share. Adrissu would visit at least once a year, usually near the end of the term, so Ned could tell him about how the school year had gone, compare students or grades, and discuss plans for the following year. Eris always seemed glad to see him, too, though sometimes she still seemed a little embarrassed that she had promised him so readily that she would return to her job and never had. But their two daughters kept her quite busy, and with Ned’s career only continuing to grow, she had not taken another job since they’d moved to Feld Heslyn. They always welcomed him warmly, and while Adrissu would not consider them as friends, the time he spent with them was typically more pleasant than not.
Ned was much less concerned about the development of steam-augmented weapons than Adrissu, though, which was often the sole point of contention between them when Adrissu came to visit. He always wanted to know more about what was being developed than Ned could tell him, and Ned usually seemed bewildered at best, and irritated at worst, by Adrissu’s urgent interest in the matter.
“If it’s weapons they want, it’s weapons they’re going to make,” he would sigh, shaking his head. “Not much we can do to stop it, Headmaster. The best we can do is just not get involved.”
His words were never reassuring, so beyond asking what rumors Ned had heard, Adrissu learned within a few years that his trips were more enjoyable if he didn’t ask too much about it.
When it had been about twenty years since Kian’s death, he tried to look a little more closely at the people he encountered, students that walked through his halls, and young men he passed in the streets. He never felt that telltale sense of knowing—of being drawn to someone without knowing who they were—but still he felt the small hope that today might be the day, every time he left Saltspire Tower.
But it did not happen that year, nor the year after, nor the next several years. He wondered if maybe his mate ended up far from him again, the way Braern had, and hoped he would not miss him in that lifetime. It seemed unlikely, however—if Kian’s memories indicated anything, his mate would have some awareness of him even from a young age; and if they ended up far apart, he thought it likely that his mate would come to seek him out anew. But all he could do was hope and wait.
Adrissu was in Feld Heslyn, visiting Ned for his yearly check-in, on the thirtieth anniversary of Kian’s death. He never meant to keep track of these morbid anniversaries, but it was hard not to dwell upon it after so long without his mate.
It was strange visiting them now. Even with his half-elven blood, Ned was beginning to look visibly older; and Eris was an old woman, her face lined and her hair gray. Their two daughters were full adults: their eldest taught illusion classes at the Academy, and the youngest was an artisan, crafting and selling pottery out of a small studio on the other side of Feld Heslyn, so he hardly saw her even when he visited. He had rarely kept acquaintances for so long, so it was strange to have seen their children grow into adults and to witness the gradual changes in their faces, as time took its toll on them in the way it never would on him.
When he and Ned were sitting alone in the half-elf’s study, full of wine and breathing in the cloying smell of tobacco emanating from a wooden pipe they passed between them, he ventured asking his usual question: “Have you heard anything about steam-augmented weapons this year?”
Ned sighed, leaning back heavily in his chair as he took a deep drag of the pipe. He did not answer for a long moment, even after he had finished blowing smoke-rings toward the open window where cool evening air wafted in. It was unlike him to take so much time before answering, which made Adrissu’s pulse jump with anxiety.
“Yes, actually,” he finally said, handing the pipe over to Adrissu. It was nearly empty, but Adrissu took a polite puff before passing it back to be refilled. “And rather recent, too. Just last month, I heard the same group that was expounding on that old steam-powered crossbow design has moved to something more... ambitious. The way it was described to me, it was less like a crossbow, and more like a... a cannon, but handheld. Its projectile was smaller, but could shoot faster than a crossbow bolt.”
“Hmm,” Adrissu grunted in response, frowning. “A hand-held cannon? I can’t imagine such a thing would be safe to handle.”
“It’s much more reliant on warding magic than the crossbow, to my understanding,” Ned said, shaking his head. “I know the mass-production of such things concerns you, so this at least seems like something that would have to be handmade by an enchanter for the foreseeable future, and would be too expensive to get into the hands of many.”
“I still don’t like it,” Adrissu muttered.
“I know you don’t,” Ned chuckled darkly. “Ever the pacifist. But it’s not under our jurisdiction, so not much to be done except monitor it.”
“This is that same group in Wintergrove?” Adrissu asked, and Ned nodded in response. “I can’t believe they’re trying thisthere, of all places. Aren’t they afraid of dragons finding out again?”
“They’re young, Adrissu. They don’t remember the dragon attack, if they were even alive when it happened, so of course it’s not something they’re concerned about. And I think they’re doing their best to keep things under wraps as much as they can, for now,” Ned sighed. “Since this seems so much more dangerous and, really, less accessible to the public. I only know about it because a former student is an acquaintance with one of their enchanters. Actually, you might know him—he’s a full elf, and I know there aren’t many of those this far southeast. His name is Pollux Blackthorn. I only recall because it’s unusual for elves to be so established in Autreth and have translated surnames like that, so I figured he must come from a notable family.”
“Blackthorn,” Adrissu repeated, mentally filing through all the elven families he knew of in Polimnos and its nearest neighbors. Blackthorn was not among them; as Ned had said, it was unusual that any elven family would not have an elven surname. “Pollux Blackthorn... No, I don’t think I recognize the name. You said a former student knew him?”
“Yes,” Ned replied, and his expression soured. “Don’t go getting any ideas, Adrissu. The student isn’t involved. Leave it alone.”
“I’m not planning anything,” Adrissu lied, shaking his head in protest. He would not ask about the student, but quietly he was already planning to make a stop in Wintergrove on his way home. That would have to suffice.
The rest of his trip to Feld Heslyn went well; he made his usual circuit to greet each of the teachers and speak with some scholars, mainly older students on the cusp of graduating, who were always eager to talk his ear off or seek guidance on their future endeavors.
He had dinner separately with Ned’s eldest daughter Shima, who had always been fond of him and called him “uncle”. She was cheerful and always happy to see him, but seemed far less interested in the goings-on of the rest of the world even compared to Ned, so she never had anything to say to him that he didn’t already know. This time, though, rather than telling him about her personal life, she nervously asked if she could come work for him at the Academy in Polimnos.
“Polimnos?” he repeated, surprised. “You don’t want to keep working here, with your father?”
“I’ve been in Feld Heslyn all my life,” she said, shaking her head. “I want to see what other places are like. I tutored before this and I enjoy teaching, but… I’ve just been thinking, it would be nice to see what life is like in other places.”
Adrissu thought it over for a moment. She was only a quarter elf—she might live long enough that he would have to worry about changing her memories of him the way he had with her parents, but maybe not. It would not hurt to have her in Polimnos, all things considered.
