Konos was sitting in the dimly lit workshop, savoring his evening tea. The scent of roasted leaves mingled with the faint metallic tang of grease and machine oil, remnants of the day's work. He traced the rim of his cup with a finger, eyes half-closed as he allowed himself a rare moment of calm.
A sudden knock at the door broke his tranquility. Konos frowned, glancing at the clock on the wall. "Hmm, at this time?" He set his cup down, his movements slow but purposeful. His joints creaked as he got up from his chair, the years of labor finally taking their toll.
He swung open the heavy wooden door, and there stood Fornos, looking as sharp and determined as ever. The young man's coat was slightly dusted from travel, and his usually pristine hair was a bit disheveled.
"Master Fornos," Konos greeted, giving a respectful nod. "I thought you were coming back a bit later."
Fornos stepped inside, his eyes immediately darting around the workshop, assessing the state of things. "I needed some upgrades for the Brassheart. Also, do you have a spare frame that can be readied in two weeks?"
Konos raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. "Two weeks, you say? That's rather short notice."
Fornos didn't miss a beat. "I know. But it's necessary. Do you have one?"
Konos stroked his beard thoughtfully. "As it happens, I do have one frame left. An older model, but sturdy. It's been sitting in the back, waiting for someone with the right idea."
Fornos nodded approvingly. "Good. For now, help me with the Brassheart. After that, I need you to prepare that frame. I'll need the frame reinforced for increased impact resistance and flexibility."
The old craftsman gave a knowing smile. "You're going to that Nevera gathering, aren't you?"
Fornos hesitated, just for a moment. "Yes. It's more than just a party. It's a move. If they're inviting us, it means they're either testing our resolve or trying to assess our influence. Either way, I won't go unprepared."
Konos chuckled, moving to the workbench and gathering his tools. "I should have known. You never do anything without a reason. Still, bringing Brassheart to a formal gathering? Planning for trouble?"
"Always," Fornos replied, his tone serious. "It's not just the Neveras I'm wary of. If they've invited other families, there's a chance of tension. I want Brassheart in top condition—both as a deterrent and as a statement."
As Konos set out the necessary tools, Fornos handed him a check. "Here is the funding for workers. I'll need help getting everything done on time."
Konos took the check and raised an eyebrow. "Generous, as always. But tell me, why the sudden push for upgrades? Brassheart is already formidable."
Fornos leaned against the wall, crossing his arms. "Formidable, yes, but predictable. It's designed for straightforward combat and defense. I need it to be more versatile—able to adapt if things go sideways. I've been thinking of incorporating macular strands into the joints for increased flexibility."
Konos paused, visibly impressed. "You've been studying the macular system on your own?"
"Of course," Fornos replied casually. "If I'm going to make improvements, I need to understand every component. Besides, if we're aiming to solidify our place among the major players, we can't afford to lag behind in golem advancements."
Konos couldn't help but admire Fornos's dedication. Despite his youth, the young master carried himself with the ambition and foresight of a seasoned strategist. Konos resumed his work, carefully inspecting Brassheart's joints. "I'll need to reinforce the core structure if you're adding macular systems. Otherwise, the strain will tear it apart."
"I figured as much," Fornos replied, pulling up a stool and sitting next to the old man. "That's why I came to you. You know how to make complex designs work without sacrificing durability."
Konos smiled softly, the compliment warming his heart. "You flatter me. But I suppose I should feel honored to be entrusted with your ambition."
They worked late into the night, adjusting the Brassheart's internal structure, recalibrating the gear ratios, and weaving the steel strands for the new macular system. Fornos's hands were deft and precise, guided by both knowledge and intuition. Despite his seemingly cold demeanor, Fornos's passion for golem crafting was undeniable.
After a few hours, Konos paused, wiping his forehead. "You know, most young masters your age would leave the dirty work to someone else."
Fornos adjusted one of the steel strands with a delicate touch. "If I don't understand my own tools, I can't expect to use them properly. Besides, this isn't just work—it's progress. Every upgrade, every small change brings me closer to my goal."
Konos chuckled, shaking his head. "You truly are your father's son."
They worked in companionable silence, broken only by the hum of the forge and the rhythmic clanking of metal. Finally, as dawn crept through the workshop's windows, Brassheart stood gleaming with new components, its frame stronger and more resilient.
Fornos gave a satisfied nod. "That will do. Now about that frame—get it ready. I want to be able to test it before the gathering."
Konos nodded. "Leave it to me. I'll make sure it's up to your standards."
Fornos gave a slight smile, rare but genuine. "Thank you. I'll come back in a few days to check on the progress."
With that, he left the workshop, his mind already working on potential strategies for the gathering. Konos watched him go, shaking his head. "That boy... ambitious doesn't even begin to describe it."
Two weeks and six days later, the Dag family arrived at the Nevera household for the gathering. The estate was grand, its marble pillars gleaming in the afternoon sun, and the gardens meticulously arranged to reflect the Nevera family's wealth and power.
Fornos adjusted his coat, feeling the weight of the Brassheart controller hidden in his sleeve. Voss glanced at him, giving a subtle nod of encouragement. Mary, dressed in a deep green gown, maintained her usual poise, her eyes scanning the crowd for familiar faces.
The Nevera servants greeted them with rehearsed courtesy, guiding them through the grand entrance. As they walked, Fornos couldn't help but feel the weight of the stares from other guests—noble families sizing up the merchant family with a mix of curiosity and disdain.
He didn't mind. Let them underestimate him. It would only make his moves more unexpected. As they approached the main hall, Fornos whispered to his father, "I'll keep an eye on who approaches us first. If they're trying to gauge our influence, they'll send someone neutral before the real players show themselves."
Voss gave a small smile. "Good thinking. Stay sharp."
Fornos nodded; his eyes gleaming with anticipation. He could feel it—a storm was brewing, and he was ready to seize any opportunity that came his way.