Mihel sighed contentedly as he leaned back in his chair, the ledger before him filled with numbers. The bottom line contained impressively many digits. Considerably better than his initial expectations. Which was a novel sensation in itself. As a merchant with a storied past, Mihel was not a stranger to seeing his expectations fail to pan out as well as he had hoped, but this was probably the first time the end result surpassed even his wild fancies. Very gratifying, and the trends showed no indication of a slowdown. In fact...

He unlocked and opened a drawer in his table, his thumb brushing against the inset opal to authorize himself. The new system was... well. On one hand, he still retained the memory of his son helplessly convulsing on the bed after a brush with the original. On the other, Marceu had recovered without any consequences other than a LOT of fresh caution and begrudging respect towards anything Gillespie-related. And the security was really top-notch, as the question on whether the drawer would open or give the opener a brief but thorough introduction into the joys of lockjaw was wholly dependent on of the opener was Mihel or not. No keys, no passwords, no secret gestures, you blatantly had to BE Mihel van der Klaas to open the drawer. Everyone else would get the shock of their life, as one cat burglar and two corrupt clerks could attest to. It was well worth the commission commanded by Inquisition to protect all the vital document storages with the enchantment in question.

Which, he mused idly, was another odd but in retrospect quite brilliant move by maiden Gillespie. Your average enchanter or merchant would have balked at the idea of passing the license to Inquisition. Most people he knew of would rather develop and sell the scheme themselves instead of satisfying themselves with just a tithe from Inquisition. And, as he had confirmed much to his shock with paper and quill, would garner less. Inquisition was, for all intents and purposes, Champagne-wide organization, and giving them the control and the duty of promulgating the enchantment had achieved coverage no singular artisan could possibly attain. True, it also took the control of whom would gain the benefits of enchantment out of maiden Gillespie's hands... But she was now married into the royal family, odd as the marriage have been, which meant that Inquisition as a whole answered to her father in law anyways... So if she truly wanted to exclude someone from the benefits of enchantment, all she had to do was write a letter to sir Malachi.

Pulling the letter out of the drawer, Mihel cracked the seal carefully. It was delivered this morning with a courier, and the sender was the lady in question. The only reason why Mihel had postponed reading it in favor of tallying up the autumn quarter was the fact he did not want to redo the whole quarter summation in a hurry. So whatever instructions were in the letter, they would be enacted in the freshly starting winter quarter. Which, he would presume, lady Gillespie would be well aware of. She was a stickler for proper documentation, after all. Maybe even more so than the guild themselves. Mihel had personally reviewed her accounts after the whole fiasco with the impostor and picked a number of tricks from the way she noted her financial movements. Any merchant who handled reselling was familiar with the concept of double-entry bookkeeping, of course, but compared to the tables she produced, regular ledgers were ridiculously clumsy. Unfortunately for Mihel, constructing such tables required an uncanny grasp of mental mathematics or laborious effort with the abacus. Feasible enough for internal guild use and wealthier merchants, but a little beyond the competence of your average peddler.

He was not prepared for a slate of metal to clatter on his desk. The envelope was thick, sure, but what he expected was a sheaf of papers containing the instructions and tables, not a magical device. Thankfully, there was also a letter which hopefully contained the explanations for what did he just receive. Adjusting the window blinds to let in a little more light, he kicked back in the chair and started perusing the letter intently. ...How very very curious.

___

Marceu knocked on the door. Waited. Cracked it open a little. "Father?" - he inquired as the knock on the door failed to evoke any response - "It is dinner time. Would you prefer dinner to be brought to your study?"

"...Marceu. Come inside, and close the door well." - Mihel croaked. That was... alarming, Marceu surmised. And very likely, Gillespie-related. If it was just bad news, his father would be ranting about the simpletons and thieves under his employ. If it was just good news, he would grunt and grin a lot. Sitting in a state of stupefied shock, however? Yeah, that kind of behavior was exclusively Gillespie-related. He did as requested, slipping into the cabinet and closing the door behind himself, turning around and jigging the handle a little to ensure the door latched properly.

"...So. What revelation fell out from under White Witch's hands this time, father?" - he inquired ironically.

Mihel snorted. "Oh, nothing too much." - he retorted - "Just a patent license for a magical device that calculates and tabulates and keeps double-entry records. And alerts you to any inconsistencies as soon as they occur. And a note that those are just the basics for a much more elaborate system. The higher tiers are... well. Remember the copperphones? This is the next iteration. Gives up a bit of security in exchange for being able to select which devices would connect. Oh, and it permits not just to talk but to instantly send written records over any distance. And an additional device that permits one to instantly capture a picture of what one sees and store it for further perusal. Oh, and it also can be passed to any other such device you connect to. She calls it Tablet."

Well. That. Uh. Very... uh. Marceu fumbled mentally more than a bit at the very idea of something so fundamentally useful for a merchant. Good gods, instant access to books kept at every branch office? Instant messages? Ability to take a look at a remote problem without having to leave your cabinet? He flopped down in the chair and covered his face with his hands, considering the grand implications of something THAT impactful.

"...And the cost?" - he croaked, as his mind whirled over the untold opportunities. The sheer value of such a device would be... Good grief. The best-known example of remote communication before copperphones was the Far Sight Gems that the Sultanate retained the secret of. What was NOT a secret, however, was a fact that enchanting those was an equal exchange. One mage's life for one Gem. Gillespie's devices, on other hand... Copperphones were ridiculously cheap in comparison. At the bottom, a pair of them was just three d'ors. At the top, an octet was priced at ten d'ors. Granted, they were less flexible than Gems - one could only speak through them, not see through them. And unlike Gems, copperphones were permanently linked and could not be reassigned. But, as his father just said, the Tablet had none of those drawbacks. In fact, it provided all the functionality the Gems offered AND bookkeeping services at the same time. And knowing lady Gillespie, the cost would be stupidly low for something so groundbreaking.

"...Fifteen gold for one tablet. Twelve if you buy at least twenty at once." - his father confirmed his worst suspicions. No merchant worth their salt would pass up on those. The combination of supreme utility at the asking price was just...

"We're buying." - he did not ask as much as stated the fact. Mihel nodded, smiling crookedly.

"We are. I have drawn the order for two hundred for Guild's internal uses and a request for reselling license. We want those in the hand of every guild merchant in good standing as soon as possible." - he agreed - "I also placed an order for something she calls Network Node. It's not cheap, at four hundred gold per artifact, but..."

"Network... node." - Marceu mused thoughtfully - "Network. Something that, well... serves as the keystone to all those Tablets, I surmise?"

"Precisely so." - Mihel confirmed with the same crooked smile - "An artifact that takes over the duties previously performed by our scribes entirely. It assembles incoming information from the assorted Tablets, aggregates it into a grand book and provides detailed records of every transaction without delay."

"A bit of revenge for the hassle with the impostor, I imagine." - Marceu chuckled ruefully - "Kinov's grace... Only she could envision revenge by showering one with wealth and opportunities. Gods and stars, what a twisted genius she is..."

"You think that's all?" - Mihel chuckled - "Turns out, the roads she's already laying aren't good enough for her." He paused, fumbling with a slate of metal, then turned it around to let Marceu see.

"Wait... THAT is the Tablet?" - Marceu yelped, taking in the picture of... something - "And what in the name of Argyl is this contraption?"

"She calls it steam Locomotive." - his father answered pensively - "A mechanism that, presumably, can convert the heat of burning coal into movement. If the numbers she furnished are correct, and I have little reason to think they are not, then this mechanism will be capable of pulling the load equivalent of over a thousand horses. It requires a specially constructed metal road to achieve this, but... Apparently, lady Gillespie is more than ready to invest in the construction of such roads between the major cities."

"...Thousand?! What kind of loads could possibly justify that much power at once!?" - Marceu boggled - "...Oh gods and stars, I see... She intends to sell dwarven metal far and wide! Does she intend to pave that metal road..."

"...Through Ashenvale? Yes." - Mihel finished for him with a nod - "And we get a headstart on this. Now, to brass tacks, Marceu. I need you to travel to Kraut kingdom as expeditiously as possible. You have been introduced to Gustaf Munchausen before, I do believe. Seek him out in Berlinger. He will be our primary contact over at Kraut kingdom. Apparently, he has some kind of personal ties to lady Gillespie, though I would not even begin to fathom what they are. Find out if you can, but discreetly. If he tells you, then fine, but do not press if he is not keen on sharing. We need his cooperation much more than satisfying idle curiosity."

"...I might not get back before the Academy semester starts." - Marceu hedged.

Mihel just waved his hand. "That is fine, I will settle things with the dean." - he shrugged - "It's not like you're going there to learn, anyways. And if we get on top of this, coming to Academy fresh from achievements is going to earn you a lot more friends than simply being there on time."