“So, how's it look?” Corco asked his apprentice as he wiped the sweat off his brow.

“...I'm not sure.” Addressed by his big brother, Brym put down the leather tube in his hand. Only after some hesitation did he answer the question.

“What do you mean you're not sure. Can you see or not?” With a frown, the crown prince stood up from his work station and walked over to his ward. All the while, he cleaned his hands with the same rag he had used for his brow before.

“...it looks... a bit crooked?” Careful, determined not to disappoint Corco, the short merchant boy tried to hide the tube away from him by taking it behind his back.

“Let me see.” Annoyed, Corco went around and snatched the instrument without much effort. Brym's training had been going pretty well, but the kid had only been a cultivator for a year and a half now. Plus, he was still a brat, not even fifteen years old. Once the crown prince had seized the telescope, he gave the instrument an inspection of his own.

A look through revealed the other side of the large warehouse, a place they had transformed into their testing area. Through the rays of sunlight from the glass windows and the dancing flecks of sawdust, his view fell onto their other 'inventions' on the other side of the hall. Sandpaper, rulers, spirit levels... all simple little inventions, most only a means to an end. The telescope was supposed to have been one such end, but the results were disappointing. Although the view was enlarged as desired, the image was completely distorted on the left.

“Aaah, crap. What went wrong?” In the end, he was just as disappointed as Brym had feared. “How much time did we spend getting these lenses polished right? They worked perfectly before we put them inside, didn't they?” As he stomped up and down the hall, he thought for a bit, before he turned back over to Brym, just to get some confirmation.

“They were. Maybe the lenses moved when we put them in. Something must not be aligned right.”

“...well, shit.” An awkward silence fell over the two, as Corco tried his best to find a shortcut out of his dilemma. In the end, there was none to be found, so with a sigh, the prince turned over to his workstation and sat down once again. He grabbed a knife and began to take apart the string which held the thick leather together. Without another word, Corco had gotten back to work again. Brym, meanwhile, sat down to Corco's side. Knees on his stool, the apprentice swayed back and forth, with his forearms leaned on the table.

“Why don't we just... get a leatherer or a tailor to do this for us? I mean, you can do so much bro, but in the end you're no expert.” Careful, Brym brought forth the idea he had been having for a good while now. Corco, focused on his task, reacted much calmer than the boy had expected.

“Nope. Not gonna happen. We've already had to get these lenses specially made in Whiteport, since there's no one else making clear glass, at least not in Arcavia. Having them make just the lenses alone is already the limit of what I can endure. I'm not handing the secrets to one of the great navigational tools over to some random tailor.”

At last, Corco's efforts paid off and the strings came apart. As the leather opened, it revealed the felt-covered inside, on which the two glass lenses soon dropped. The imprints in the felt showed clearly that one of the lenses had set at an angle, the cause of their troubles.

“There ya go, that would be the problem, huh?” Corco mumbled, “I thought we had it all measured out. How did this even happen?”

“I just meant... since cousin will be back soon we need to get this done. Once he comes back from his trip our ship will be ready,” Brym said with worry.

He was right, so Corco decided to look up from his work and properly face the issue.

“For now, we still have some time. Their ship is gonna lead them past the southern coast all the way around the continent. It's the farthest they've ever gone, and I've even convinced Devaerter that he'll get a good position to train him up as a captain.”

“Devaerter has no problem with us taking over his business? I mean, once we start our own fleet he'll be cut out of the deal, won't he?”

“Nah, not a problem. We've agreed on shares.” With great care, Corco put the glass lenses to the side. These things were expensive, so he would rather not waste any more of them.

“Ah, so he bought a piece of our new ship?” Brym asked. After almost two years of schooling, the kid had begun to understand some more modern concepts like shares, at least when it came to moneymaking.

“Yup. He'll pay for a third of the ship's cost. A third of the running costs too. The oldtimer really liked the idea, obviously.”

“Makes sense. You can spread your assets over a larger fleet and make the same amount, but at the same time you minimize the chance of a total loss if one ship sinks. Really a smart plan that is.” Brym raved. However, only a moment later he became serious again, reminded of the ship which was being fitted in Etra's port.

“Still, how will cousin sail if he doesn't get the equipment in time? We got the compass done, but what about that... sextant, was it?”

With another frown, Corco looked down onto the gutted telescope.

“We're not gonna get a sextant made, not anytime soon. For that, we'd need a precision we just can't manage at the moment. The telescope might be our limit for now.”

“Then we should get proper craftsmen after all.”

“We're not talking about this again.” Corco replied with a stern voice as he bent down under the table. Somewhere down here he had stored the rest of the felted leather. Should be more than enough for some more trial and error. “We'll get this done ourselves, even if it costs us some extra materials. That's still better than giving the Bornish the navigation tools they'll need to sail to the Medala Empire. I won't have my country invaded with my own tools.” Though bornish merchants had already reached Medala's shores even before his exile, for now their journey was long and dangerous. There was no reason to make their lives easier.

In reaction to Corco's rebuke, Brym lowered his head. “All that precious glass,” he mumbled, before he headed under the table as well to help Corco look for that leather.

“It's not like the tools are needed in the first place. Atau has been at sea since he was little and our new ship has a fantastic, modern design. Would be nice if we could get these done by then. But even If we can't, it still won't be the end of the world.”

“Found it!”

Through the mess under the table, Brym's happy voice called out. Corco got up, careful not to bump his head into the table, not again. Once his view was clear, he saw Brym stand before him with a big smile on his face and a long piece of leather hanging down his arm. Just as the prince was about to take the material for another attempt at leather work, he heard a bang from the large front door, followed by shouts and curses.

“What's going on?” Brym asked as he turned around.

“Let's find out.” With a frown, the prince moved past the kid, ready to find out who would dare make such a ruckus on their property. He really didn't like noise while he was working. His people should have known that already, so the remaining options all spelled trouble. On his way over to the large gate of the warehouse, he picked up his axe and a matchlock pistol he had bought only two weeks before.

As he took a knee by the door and filled the pistol with powder, the noise outside rose to greater and greater heights. In utter confusion, multiple voices were shouting over each other, all the while closing in on their position.

“Big Bro...” a worried Brym said.

“It's fine. You stay inside. I'll handle this.” With a nod, Brym disappeared back into the depths of the warehouse, where he proceeded to pick up several blankets to cover all the inventions they had made over the past few weeks. Nice of him to think ahead like that. Relieved that the equipment would be safe with the kid for now, Corco finished his own preparation. With the help of a candle by the side, Corco lit the lute of his matchlock pistol and cocked the hammer.

Ready to fire.

Pistol raised to make sure none of the ammo would drop out, Corco shoved the door open with his shoulder to scout the outside. Sunlight blinded him the second he left the room, but he could still see his own men, hired helpers from outside the city, as they held off a group of shadows in his front from storming him before he could get his bearings. With squinted eyes, the prince did his best to identify the attackers. Finally, the shadows turned back into people, most ordinary people at that.

Unlike what Corco had believed, the attack wasn't another assault from the Duke or a criminal organization, here to demand a cut of his profits. Instead, the crowd consisted of mostly children, with a few women and older men mixed in. The angry mob spat and cursed in his direction, held back by the wide arms of Corco's workers. Still, they were no more than a dozen, and wouldn't be much of a threat.

Since he wouldn't need the pistol any longer, the prince was free to resolve the conflict quickly. With a bang, the gunpowder ignited and fired the loaded lead ball into the cloudless sky. The dangerous noise of gunfire was something the people of Etra had become well familiar with over the years, so the single action was enough to end the uproar. With a frown on his face, Corco lowered the pistol and stepped forward, closer to the crowd.

“What is going on here?” The prince looked over the crowd, no one willing to meet his gaze.

“Traitor!” Someone shouted from the back. Soon, the entire mob was riled up again.

“Heathen!”

“Slaver!”

“Shut. The fuck. Up!” Corco enunciated each word as he pointed the gun towards the rambling masses. Though the weapon had been fired empty, he still achieved his desired effect. Once again, quiet returned to the front yard of the Fastgrade's harbor warehouse. Unconcerned by their numbers, Corco stepped forward, past his men and through the crowd, until he reached in front of a haggard youngster with dirty hair.

“You were the one who called me a traitor first, weren't you? You're not gonna stay hidden in a small crowd like this. You'd need more people.” The prince accompanied his advice with a friendly smile.

“So what,” the young man answered with clenched jaws. Though his face looked determined, he began to step back as Corco closed in. “It's true anyways. Everyone in the city is a Reverer, or soon enough they'll be. You're the seer, or so you say. The mouthpiece of the lordships, impious filth, here to take our freedom.”

Despite the man's slander, Corco still retained his smile. He wouldn't play games today. As the rabble-rouser stepped back, away from Corco, the prince followed along, until the attacker's back had hit the door of the warehouse all the way across the street.

“You want to silence me, but you can't silence the truth!” the sweating man shrieked.

“Your name is Olec, right? I know you, you're a worker over at Trellban's company.”

Rather than answer, the man just stared at Corco again, so the prince turned the questioning into a monologue. “You're here, the employee of a competitor, and you would slander me, and willingly put all these people here in danger, just so your boss can make some extra coin? Now who lacks proper piety?”

Finally, the murmurs in his back started up again, but this time they were confused rather than angry.

“Nonsense! Where's the danger in teaching a traitor a lesson?”

“You're trespassing on my, a member of the merchants union's, private property. According to Etra's laws, I could have shot everyone here dead, that includes you, and I would have received not even a slap on the wrist. Though of course, at that point Trallban could make trouble for me at the next union meeting, which seems to have been the goal. The only reason this didn't turn into a bloodbath is because I'm in a good mood from today's lovely weather. So how about you scram and tell your boss: Next time he tries something like this, he can look for a new errand boy. Understood, friend?”

Corco watched as the idiot pawn who had been sacrificed by his boss stumbled over his own feet while he rushed back into the city. Slowly, the prince's smile transformed into a deep frown. This time the conflict had been cleared up, but this sort of trouble would continue. By now, the Fastgrade Merchants were too big a target and with the spread of the new faith, there were more than enough excuses to accuse him. If they wanted to deal with the increasing problems, they'd have to hire some extra muscle. Corco thought of Atau, on his last trip on a foreign vessel. Right now, he would be trapped on a ship manned by nothing but Reverers. He just hoped his cousin would make it home safe.