Discordant Note: Crescendo | TBATE

Chapter 265.5: Christmas Special 2024

Thank you to my beta reader and editor, GlassThreads!

Seris Vritra

The sound of celebrations and rising glee flowed around us, the mana itself alight with life and light. Yuletide preparations rumbled through the great cavern of Burim, one of the oldest Dicathian festivals giving a bit of new life to the beleaguered dwarves.

I found it truly strange, the idea of Yuletide. It was an old Dicathian tradition. During the coldest months of the year, no matter the race, the people would gather together, giving gifts to those they cared for.

We Alacryans had no such holidays. Even in Sehz-Clar, where I had worked to foster communal support and responsibility over the decades, the idea sat strangely. To give without expectation of receiving? To give for the sake of giving?

Toren had laughed when he'd heard of the upcoming festival, his eyes alight as they usually did whenever he found something he thought particularly amusing. After some prodding, he'd revealed that his previous life had had a concept much the same: a season for giving gifts and fellowship.

It is still quite illogical, I mused, staring down at the blueprint I'd delivered to the burly smith in front of me. If one truly cared for their fellows, one would gift things truly needed. That would be true selflessness.

My eyes flicked to a young dwarven child as they scampered past, toddling on little feet. They spared me no mind, instead racing after their parents as they shouted their desire for certain toys.

The greatest gift should be simple currency, I thought with a hint of irritation. Such would give the most freedom to the receiver. To be able to purchase whatever they wish is a greater good than a restrictive item.

I'd said as such to Toren, and he'd been puzzled for a time. For all his virtues, he did not know his way around logic as I did. And I'd made a solid point: for a season supposedly about selflessness, it seemed quite selfish to me. Granted, I had only ever granted gifts out of pragmatism, hoping for the best outcome. Toren's saber and dagger, Caera's blade, and a dozen others... I could not fathom granting a gift for selfless reasons.

"I don't know about that, miss," the boulderish dwarven merchant muttered, stroking his beard. The lavaducts cast him in a low haze as he stared at the design I'd laid out in front of him. His beard was bound by cords, and there were no few gaps where sparks had tunneled their way through his graying hair. "I don't think I can do this."

The man's words cleared my head of earlier contemplations. Thrumir was one of the foremost fire mages in Burim, a master artificer of the dwarves. So talented was he in his craft that he could match some of Alacrya's Instillers. Without spellforms, runes, or formal training in the extensive sciences of my home continent, this singular smith still excelled.

I frowned down at the blueprint I'd presented to the smith. "Is it a matter of funds?" I queried, clasping my hands in front of me. "That should be no problem. I am not limited monetarily, and I have always been generous in my commissions."

Thrumir shook his head. "Apologies, Lady Shorn," he said carefully, "but this isn't like the fire puzzle I created before, or the craft of interlocking blocks after. These designs are more complicated than those, true, but it's more than that."

I let out a sigh, brushing a lock of raven hair behind my ear. I'd donned my age-old mask of Renea Shorn for this outing, and I already felt somewhat foolish for trying this at all. Despite this, I still felt a measure of disappointment. "Explain it to me, then," I said, knowing that I sounded more disappointed than I wished to let on.

The dwarf laid a meaty finger on the design, tracing the small gates with an inquisitive look. He traced the rigid pathways and strata of the design. "I can recognize some of these. Makes me think of the passageways for the lavaducts... When some of them are close to overflowing, channels will trip and divert the flow across the city."