Trinity of Magic

“Thank ye for yer visit, Mr. Ezekiel,” the apprentice said politely, his tone measured. "I’ll make sure to pass yer offer along to the master."

Zeke nodded, keeping his frustration well hidden. It was clear he was being dismissed. “That would be appreciated,” he replied. “I’ll be on my way, then.”

The apprentice gave a small bow before returning to his work, leaving Zeke to find his own way out of the smithy. Not intending to linger, Zeke headed for the entrance. As he stepped outside, a weary sigh escaped his lips.

Gunner had been right—it wouldn’t be easy to secure a deal with the more influential dwarves. Even the few who agreed to meet with him showed no interest in his proposals. It didn’t seem to matter what he offered; the dwarves remained indifferent, as if all the gold in the world held no value in their eyes.

It was as vexing as it was incomprehensible.

Somewhat dismayed, Zeke made his way back to Gunner’s place, mulling over his options. He had been hesitant to place all his hopes on the Brewers Festival, but it now seemed like his best—and perhaps only—chance to strike a deal.

He had spent the past day gathering information about the festival, learning everything he could. Despite his initial doubts, he had to admit that Gunner’s suggestion had merit. Dwarves, it seemed, had a penchant for blending business with revelry. Many famous dwarven pacts, including some of the most enduring brotherhoods, had been forged over mugs of ale in drunken camaraderie.

The real question was, could Zeke achieve the same?

After taking the elevation platform nearly to the top, he once again found himself outside Gunner’s smithy. The dwarf had generously offered him temporary lodging, an invitation Zeke had readily accepted. While Gunner wasn’t among the most celebrated craftsmen in the city, he still had valuable information that could prove useful.

Stepping inside, Zeke found the dwarf exactly as he’d left him that morning—hunched over the partial schematic of the Gondola, utterly absorbed in his work. Gunner didn’t even glance up as Zeke entered and settled into a chair nearby. His intense focus was almost palpable, his eyes locked in what seemed like a staring contest with the parchment.

Zeke couldn’t decide whether to be impressed or exasperated. On one hand, the dwarf’s dedication and concentration were remarkable. On the other, his complete lack of awareness made his shop an open invitation for thieves. It was hard not to imagine how easily someone could walk out with half the workshop without Gunner noticing.

Zeke stepped behind the dwarf and leaned over to get a better look at what he was doing. The schematic Zeke had left had undergone significant changes, now adorned with dozens of annotations and additions. Most of them appeared to be Gunner’s deductions about the functions of various components and their interconnections.

From what Zeke could see, the dwarf had deduced that the design was part of an airship, though he hadn’t pinpointed it as a Gondola. That wasn’t particularly surprising—after all, the luxurious aircraft was predominantly used in Tradespire, far removed from Stonehearth’s culture.

What truly caught Zeke’s attention were the numerous attempts to improve the design. Each modification was meticulously sketched, only to be scratched out and accompanied by notes explaining why the changes wouldn’t work.

Zeke nodded in approval, genuinely impressed by Gunner’s level of insight after such a short time. Perhaps the dwarf might just prove capable of earning the hefty reward Zeke had promised.

“How’s it going?” Zeke asked, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.

Gunner flinched at the sudden voice but quickly composed himself, responding with a grunt. “Bit o’ a challenge,” he admitted after a pause. “…But I’m still confident.”

Zeke stepped back, giving the dwarf some space. “I’d be very pleased if you could manage it,” he said. “But there’s no rush. The offer stands indefinitely.”

Gunner sighed and finally turned to face him, studying Zeke's expression before breaking into a knowing grin. “And how did it go for ye, lad?”

Zeke let out an annoyed grunt. “Pretty much as you said. Nobody was willing to commit to anything.”

“’Cause they don’t know ye,” Gunner repeated for what felt like the hundredth time.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

“That’s a stupid reason…” Zeke said before he could stop himself.

Gunner chuckled, his laughter rumbling like distant thunder. “Aye? I reckon it’s downright wise, meself.”

“Care to explain that one?” Zeke asked, half mocking half genuinely interested.

“The logic’s plain enough, really,” Gunner said with a shrug. “A man o' character’ll never let ye come up short, no matter what’s been agreed. But a weasel? They’ll always find a way to cheat, no matter what was promised.”

Zeke blinked, momentarily stunned by the blunt yet airtight reasoning. It struck a stark contrast to the way business was conducted in Tradespire. There, negotiations often felt like verbal chess matches, each side maneuvering to trap their ‘partner’ while avoiding being ensnared themselves. It was a game of wits where trust had no place, and self-interest ruled supreme.

But the dwarves operated by a wholly different mantra.

In an instant, Zeke realized his earlier missteps.

No wonder everyone had dismissed his offers without a second glance. To the dwarves, words on paper meant little. Contracts, no matter how meticulously crafted, were secondary. What they valued was the integrity of the person standing across from them, not the promises scribbled in ink.

It was a better safeguard against deceit, Zeke realized. Instead of relying on legal jargon to enforce honesty, they simply chose to work with those who didn’t need enforcing.

Zeke nodded slowly, finally beginning to grasp how the dwarves conducted their business. “...At the festival then,” he said after a pause, deciding not to approach anyone else until that time.

Gunner grinned, his teeth gleaming beneath his thick beard. “Aye, laddie. That’ll be for the best.”

Given this unexpected break, Zeke suddenly remembered the other reason he’d come to the city. Reaching into the folds of his robes, he pulled out an object he’d been puzzling over for far too long. “Say, Gunner, do you know what this is?”

In his palm rested a peculiar artifact: a perfectly spherical cube. Its surface was inscribed with faint symbols that spiraled along its sides, yet it felt unnaturally smooth, as though crafted from a single, seamless piece of material. At first glance, the object seemed unassuming—plain, even—but Zeke was certain it held secrets far beyond its mundane appearance.

It was the mysterious cube he had acquired from the Giger ruins all those years ago, hailed as one of the holy treasures. Its significance had eluded him ever since.

At first, Gunner’s gaze skimmed over the cube with little interest. But then, he did a double take, his eyes narrowing as they studied the intricate inscriptions carved into its sides. “By the Forge,” he muttered, his tone shifting to one of cautious reverence. “Where’d ye get that thing, lad?”

“From Arkanheim,” Zeke replied, his voice even. “Any idea what it is?”

Gunner didn’t respond immediately. His eyes remained fixed on the glyphs, his expression growing more intense with each passing second. With a flick of his hand, he deployed several magnifying lenses from his headgear, each one clicking into place like a jeweler inspecting a rare and valuable gem.

“Not exactly,” he admitted after a long pause, his voice quiet and thoughtful. “But these markings... they remind me o' an old script I've seen before. Could be dwarfen, but if it is, it’d be ancient—older than most records we’ve still got.”

Zeke’s brow furrowed. “Can you decipher it?”

Gunner shook his head. “This be the kinda thing ye’d need a proper scholar to make sense of. But I can tell ye one thing, lad…”

“What’s that?”

The dwarf’s gaze met Zeke’s, his tone solemn. ”Whatever this be, it ain’t just some common trinket. I can’t even tell what blasted material it’s made from—an' that don’t happen often, let me tell ye.”

Zeke wasn’t surprised. He had known for a long time that the cube held secrets, but he still hadn’t been able to uncover any of them. This might be his first real chance to learn more. “Looks like I’ll need to visit one of those scholars soon,” he said.

Gunner snorted at the thought, but when he saw the seriousness on Zeke’s face, his amusement quickly faded into a tired sigh. “By the forge, yer serious,” he muttered, rubbing his forehead with one large hand. “Listen here, laddie. Folks with that kind of knowledge are rarer than the coins in me pocket. Even a dwarf o' high standing would have a hard time getting a meeting with one of ‘em.”

Zeke sighed. Of course, it couldn’t be that easy. “Do you have any names, at least?”

Gunner waved his hand dismissively. “Aye, I know 'em all, I reckon. But that ain’t gonna help ye. I told ye, those aren’t folks ye can just waltz up to.”

Zeke motioned for Gunner to write the names down, and within moments, he had a list. There were fewer than two dozen names on it, and none were familiar to him. Despite their apparent prominence in dwarven society, these scholars had little fame outside the kingdom. It made sense—other races wouldn’t have much use for scholars focused on ancient dwarven history.

At a closer look, Zeke noticed something. Toward the bottom of the list, the second-to-last name seemed vaguely familiar.

Thoren Ironhide.

Zeke hadn’t heard of Thoren himself, but the Ironhide family was one of the few he had considered as potential trade partners. His mind immediately began to race. If he could make an impression on someone from that line, he might kill two birds with one stone.

At the very least, it would give him a chance to ask for a meeting with the scholar once they were on better terms.

But that also added more pressure. It would be much easier to make a good impression on any of the powerful dwarven families during the festival than to target one specific family. After all, it was possible that the representative from Ironhide simply wouldn’t like him, for reasons entirely unrelated.

However…

If—and that was a big if—he could find an angle, a clear path to impress the Ironhide family, it might be worth pursuing.

With renewed determination, Zeke began questioning Gunner about the Ironhide family, digging for every detail he could. He asked about their members, relationships, skills, business dealings, rivals, politics—everything.

With only two days left until the Brewers Festival, Zeke was determined to make the most of every moment.