“Have you checked on the six who responded to your invitations, Elena?”

  Demian Silbern took one of the polished crystal spheres from a table and looked at its surface. A smile stretched out of his lips as he felt and saw the undisturbed surface of the red orb. He brought the item to a wall-mounted apparatus that resembled an unused torch holder; the ball was placed above it and started to float.

  “Four of the expected names appeared, as usual. There are two new firms, Father. A coastal works and dikes specialist, and… Oh? One of them is only four years old?”

  “Hmm… an up-and-comer.” Demian walked to an arched desk and took his seat; his eyes still fixed on the young ash-haired wizard holding the documents. “What is this firm’s name?”

  “Severniya Industrie.” The Silbern lady flipped to the next page of the document. “There is nothing impressive about this company based on our sources. They are more into selling raw materials for construction. The only project of note is a reconstruction of the old Connsbruick-Aurelburg mountain path.”

  “While I am not against new players competing for such projects, I cannot help but doubt the intentions of this firm. Have you checked on the quality of their work?”

  “They look like it’s, um... good, Father.” Elena scanned the other pages of the papers; his face settled in its usual neutrality. “Nothing could be said against their work. The road met Imperial standards. It could look better, if I must say anything else.”

  “That is well enough to hear.” Demian stood up and straightened the cloak that crumpled on his shoulders and walked towards the open window inside his study. “We have a day to welcome our bidders, yes?”

  ????

  Demian smiled and closed the door behind him. He looked at the outside, where the ringing of the academy bells sent a flock of birds flying out of the belfry. Eight towers stood in front of the city walls. Blackened lines of crystals wrapped the structures’ exterior; each building looked exactly like the others, though there were places where the masonry gleamed differently in the sunlight. He had read the books about the wonderful yet frightening ability of the ancient structures, and he had finally won the emperor’s approval to reinstate the long-dormant defenses.

  The aging magical practitioner knew for a fact that there was no meaning in restoring a relic that was meant to protect the city from the hordes of monsters it faced years ago. By no means was he willing to watch this part of history remain asleep, however.

  Morning proved too much for the eyes to bear when Demian decided to step out of the Magister's Office; a lack of clouds to buffer the sun made even looking at the blue regions a blinding ordeal. Work at the academy was handled by Elena's staff, which allowed him to go around and survey the city at leisure. His assigned car was parked outside the Academy; the Imperial Seal was half-obscured as the sun struck its surface. He nodded to the awaiting driver, who started the engine before Luminberg's administrator was comfortably seated in the back.

  Demian's vehicle arrived at the third tower after an hour's drive. He noticed another automobile of the Severniya Industrie firm parked at the perimeter; a ramp made a thud to the ground as the people started pulling crates and boxes out of the caravan. It was then that Demian opted to have a look at how the construction was going.

  The yellow and black uniforms of construction firm's personnel moved in and out of the Wizards' Wall's third tower; two or three workers left with crates filled with rusting metal and aged stone. A group of at least five then brought in new components to replace the aging machinery neglected by the city administration.

  He feared that letting a company work on the Wizards' Wall on a budget of almost half the target meant shoddy or unrefined results, but the conduct of these workers was very systematic, almost to the point of being clockwork. Personnel who obviously sweated out much of the jobs in the dawn settled inside galvanized Quonset huts; most of them were stripped of their upper garments. Only very few loud, terse commands could be heard from the foremen who oversaw the operation; Demian barely heard anyone complain about anything related to the tasks. He was about to enter the tower itself when he was stopped by a worker at the doorway, not to berate the magister, but to hand a steel helmet along with a glowing yellow vest. Only then was Demian permitted entry.

  The tower interior stood thirty to thirty-five meters high; a hollow building where a furnace-like contraption stood at the lowest center of the structure. A staircase coiled around the inner wall, while a main pipe constructed of metal encased in what looked to be dark glass went as high as the ceiling would allow it. Two collapsible elevator systems were constructed to allow new materials to be transported to the tower's top floor. Demian heard the crackling of metalwork upon his ascent to the top layer of the tower; the smell of melting metal went along with the heat it generated.

  If you come across this story on Amazon, it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.

  ????

  The journey using the staircase almost tired the magister; he took two minutes of his time observing the ceiling before he lifted his legs to resume the climb. This part of the structure housed the controls that governed the roof-mounted crystal that projected the magical energy to link with the other towers. Almost all of the previous machines installed had to be replaced due to the internals rotted away beyond restoration, so the reports said. Whether this was true or otherwise can be proved once the old machinery is returned to the Academy for further study. He noticed the recently-opened crates that contained the replacement consoles; he could still discern the colored buttons and levers even when the tower's sources of light were dimmed lamps. None of the workers took notice when Demian continued to examine the quality of the jobs being done.

  It was the type of work he expected, but then the lack of raucous interactions made by construction teams was somewhat out of place. Perhaps the clang and bang of tools and the loud whirring of other machines didn't elicit any interest from workers to talk. It would have only made more noise, and even more time needed to finish something. The descent using the staircase was even more challenging than expected. While metal guards and an anti-slip layer were placed over the stairs, there were portions of the stone that remained polished, probably due to the age of the rock the tower was made with. Demian kept his hands on the wall, which made his journey down much longer than he did when going up.

  At the perimeter was a man of iron gray hair and medium build, sporting a trench coat that turned tarnished silver in the sunlight.

  "I didn't expect the esteemed Magister Silbern to take the time to watch us work. We are making sure that things are going smoothly, I presume?"

  "Of course, Mister Faricy." Demian unstrapped his helmet and started removing the vest, both of which were received by the worker standing guard by the tower entrance. "I must say that your men have a discipline of their own."

  "We wouldn't want our clients to think that we have ruffians in our employ, and efficiency has always been a key trait I want my workers to keep."

  "No doubt you are doing well with applying those principles."

  "I am definitely most grateful."

  Trevalyn Faricy reached out with his right hand, and Magister Silbern returned the courtesy. The head of Severniya Industrie guided Luminberg's head to a table where four folding chairs awaited them. Platters of ham, sausages, and bread were revealed, ready to be forked.

  "Have your fill, Excellency." A smile carved on Trevalyn's face, which showed some fine creases around his cheeks.

  "Great timing. I was thinking I have not eaten enough at the Academy." Demian sat down on the left chair facing the third tower. He took a bite of the ham and bread and smiled in return. "These are wonderful, I must say."

  "Mornings should always be greeted with the best food possible." Trevalyn bent down to retrieve a bottle from a bucket of ice. "Quite a good time to spend with 1698 Chateau Strognac, if I may."

  Quite lavish, Demian thought. Those bottles were rarely imported from Frankland, and were even more costly given the state of affairs of the said country. The Empire had yet to mediate between the insurgents and the loyalists, and could only manage to send a small force to guard the seat of administration from further rebel attacks. He watched Trevalyn fill a glass for the magister, followed by filling a second glass.

  "Say, how long do you think the rework will take before all eight towers are completed?"

  "Given that we hardly have interruptions or unfortunate events, we should be able to put the towers in a usable state in the next seven to ten weeks."

  "Quite a fast job, given that we never shared the nature of these buildings with anyone else but your firm."

  "Your magicians were able to inform us properly of the schematics, Magister. It was easier for our engineers to understand the technologies when less 'magician-speak' was used."

  Trevalyn reached out to get another fill with his left hand. There was a sudden trembling of the arm, followed by his right hand holding the bottle from the bottom. It took a few seconds before his grip on the bottle was restored. There was a concerned look on the man's face when he told Demian:

  "I am reminded of my age. This left arm of mine is not as spry as I believe it is."

  "No need, Mister Faricy, no need." Demian took another piece of bread to go with the wine. "You might have been tired of journeying from your previous endeavor."

  "This old body might need a little more exercise."

  "The same could be said for me." Demian's attempt at humor led to an interrupted laugh that shrank back to a faint curving of the lips. "Were there any problems removing the old machinery from the towers?"

  "It was challenging, based on the accounts of my foremen." Trevalyn said, "Much of the metal used has become brittle, but we have not encountered any accidents dismantling the main conduit linking the furnaces to the emitters. I must say that this old technology must have operated better than the closest machines we have. Very precise construction these artificers did, truly."

  "Let us hope what we have learned of their creations can be comparable to the original materials."

  "Indeed." Trevalyn nibbled on a piece of bread. "We should be able to conduct testing on some of the towers in two weeks. We will just have to keep it low enough for the citizens not to be too amazed when we do."

  "I am looking forward to the best, Mister Faricy." Demian looked at the tower's peak; a bluish crystal point was emerging from it. "The Day of the Defense celebrations will definitely benefit from these improvements."

  "Yes, Excellency." Trevalyn faced him with a smile; his glass raised. "To completion."

  "And to the restoration of legacy."

  Demian clinked his glass with Trevalyn's and looked at the tower with smiling eyes.