Chương 80: Chapter 77 - Magical Insulation

Alric rushed over to Stromni's forge, his security detail, the adventurers, falling into step behind him as he crossed the bridge. The guards at the bridge had been insistent that they couldn't enter the nobles quarter, which meant they had been just as insistent that he not go anywhere alone. Alric had entered the nobles district alone which left the adventurers with the important task of glaring at the guards.

Now he was back, he heard his guards huffing and puffing behind him under the weight of their equipment, a steady rhythm that suggested urgency was not a shared quality. Normally he would have slowed down. He did not. His mind was racing too much for that, redesigning the brewery in his head as he walked, pulling it apart and rebuilding it in cleaner lines that refused to stay clean once reality was allowed back in. He pushed open the door to Stromni's workshop and strode inside.

He set the heating stone down on the countertop. He was about to call out, then stopped, waiting instead, impatience tightening his posture. Stromni glanced over from the grinder, squinting over at Alric. He wiped his hands on a rag.

"Something break again?" he asked, voice flat.

"Not yet," Alric said, resting his palm lightly on the edge of the table.

"That's the problem. It's coming." That earned him a pause. Stromni set the rag aside and stepped closer, leaning in to inspect the stone Alric had put down. He hovered his hand over it, not touching, just feeling the residual warmth.

"Looks fine," he said after a moment.

"Ya want me to tell me that?"

"They're burning out early," Alric said.

"They always burn out, lad. It's—""Earlier than they should," Alric said, pointing at the stone. Stromni's brow creased slightly. That shifted something. He straightened a little, then picked up the stone and turned it slowly in his hand, watching how the light moved across the faces.

"Dunno much about these, don't get hot enough for forging. Ain't it normal?" he said.

"No," Alric said. Then, after a brief pause, "Well… I'm not sure. The magery doesn't use them much either." He drew a breath, choosing his words carefully.

"They're losing energy faster than expected. Not just through use. I think they're leaking it. Into the air, into the housing, into anything they touch." Stromni snorted softly, folding his arms.

"So you think they're… what? Bleeding heat out the sides?"

"Not heat. Mana. Although heat too I think." Alric straightened to think about it.

"And ya plan to stop that how?" Alric tapped one of the stones with his finger.

"By containing it. Wrapping them in adamantite" For a heartbeat, nothing happened. Then Stromni let out a short, incredulous laugh, shaking his head as he turned away.

"Ya want to wrap a heating stone in adamantite?" he said, as though repeating it might make it less absurd. Alric nodded with a grin. Stromni reached out, picked up the stone again, and held it up between his fingers.

"Ya seen what happens when you drop one of these, haven't you? They crack. Sometimes they shatter. And now ya want me to hammer metal around it." Alric thought about it for a moment before saying "Carefully."

"Carefully?" Stromni echoed, turning the word over with clear scepticism. He set the stone down with a small tap.

"Metal tightens when it cools. Ya put pressure in the wrong place and this thing splits. Then ya got nothing but expensive shards." He gestured toward the stone, frustration already creeping into his tone.

"And even if it didn't crack, look at it. Angles. Edges. No two faces the same lad. Ya wrap that in any metal, you're only touching a few points. The rest is air." Alric nodded once.

"I know."

"So it won't work."

"It might," Alric said, meeting his gaze.

"with your skill." Stromni's eyes narrowed slightly.

"And my skill fixes all of that?"

"Hammer it very thin and we wrap it by hand as best we can." Alric explained, he would have liked it close to tinfoil but he knew that was impossible. Stromni didn't laugh this time. He didn't respond immediately either. His gaze dropped back to the stone, then flicked to the scrap racks along the wall, then back again.

"You're serious?" he said at last.

"Yes." Alric said nodding "the other thing to try is build a housing and fill it with an adamantite powder." A long breath left Stromni's nose as he began studying the stone again, turning it slowly, this time with a measuring eye. His expression shifted, the earlier amusement gone, replaced by something more focused.

"How thin would it need to be…" he muttered, almost to himself.

"Too thick and it won't shape. Too thin and it tears." He crossed to a shelf and picked up a piece of leftover adamantite, weighing it in his hand before setting it on the anvil. His fingers traced the edge, already imagining what it would take to work it down.

"It doesn't like being shaped," he said.

"Ya know that."

"I do."

"It fights you. Ya don't bend it. Ya convince it. Ask it nicely." Alric said nothing, letting him think. After a moment, Stromni nodded once, sharp and decisive.

"Alright," he said, reaching for his hammer.

"Let's see if it listens today." Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions. The metal did not listen. The first strip refused to take the curve Stromni wanted, springing back just enough to leave a visible gap along the crystal's surface, as though it had considered the suggestion and decided it was more interesting to point the other way. The second attempt tore when he pushed it too thin.

By the third, Stromni had stopped commenting on each failure and simply worked, his movements growing slower, more deliberate. The ringing of hammer against adamantite was sharper than iron, each strike carrying a tight, unpleasant edge that lingered in the air, like a complaint that had not quite found the right words. Stromni adjusted his grip, turned the piece, struck again, each blow measured rather than forceful.

"Ta stiff," he muttered, bending the strip against the stone. It resisted, then settled into a shape that still left gaps along two faces.

"Won't sit." He held it up for Alric to see, tapping the points where the metal made contact.

"Here. And here. That's all you get. The rest is nothing." He flattened the strip again and tried a different approach, working smaller sections, folding them inward, trying to coax the metal into something closer to the crystal's irregular shape. Time stretched. Scraps accumulated on the floor. Several pieces warped beyond use. A few came close, only to reveal their flaws when tested against the stone, which seemed to take this as confirmation that it was, in fact, perfectly fine as it was.

Eventually, Stromni set the hammer down and flexed his fingers, rolling his wrist with a quiet grunt.

"This is the problem," he said, nodding toward the stone.

"These faces. They're wrong. All wrong. If they were cut properly, you could match the metal to them."

"Cut," Alric repeated.

"Aye, Smoothed en shaped. Made ta fit something other than themselves." Stromni picked the stone up again, turning it under the light.

"Ya'd need a jeweler for that." Alric leaned slightly forward.

"Do you know one?" Stromni snorted, the sound short and dismissive.

"In this city? No. If we were in Dracken Hold you'd throw this thing and hit two, but not here. Not for something this fine ya know."

"What's wrong with the jewellers here?" Alric asked more as a curiosity than anything. Stromni gave him a look that suggested the answer should be obvious.

"You think people are cutting these things for necklaces?" Alric didn't reply.

"Exactly," Stromni said.

"You hand this to the wrong person, they ruin it. Or worse, they start asking questions. I don't like either of those." The idea of a clean solution faded with that. Stromni reached for another strip of adamantite.

"So we work with what we've got," he said.

"No cutting. No perfect fit." Alric nodded, he had nothing to lose.

"Still want to try?" he asked hesitantly.

"Aye. We wrap them," Stromni said.

"Badly. Pack it with scrap where we can't." Later, when one of the stone had been enclosed as well as Stromni could manage, Alric carried it back to the brewery and set it into a small test housing. He waited until the stone was active before examining it. The usual glow was gone, swallowed entirely by the dull copper grey of the adamantite casing. He crouched slightly and held his hand near the surface. He shifted his hand, moving slowly along the metal.

Hotter in places, cooler in others The difference was subtle, but it was there. He traced the variations again, mapping them out in his mind. The heat wasn't spreading evenly. It concentrated in certain areas, faded in others, as though the stone had simply found new unhelpful ways to be inconsistent. Stromni and him had discussed alternatives but none came up properly. Apparently the sap from an ent was resistant to mana. Stromni had used some once when to polish armour, but it smelt awful and would melt.

This was the best they could do right now. They went back to work the next morning. This time, Stromni abandoned the idea of a clean wrap entirely. He cut smaller pieces, thinner strips, working them into place in segments rather than trying to force a single sheet to behave. He folded edges inward, pressed corners down, adjusted each section individually. The result was inelegant, but it fit more closely than before. It was still slow. Each piece required attention. Too much pressure risked cracking the stone.

Too little left the metal loose. Stromni's frustration showed in the set of his jaw, in the way he paused between strikes to reassess rather than rushing forward, as if speed might somehow convince the metal to cooperate. Hours passed before they had completed four. The finished stones were uneven, their surfaces marked by overlapping seams and slight ridges where the metal met itself. None of them looked like something meant for precise work. Stromni picked one up and turned it over, examining it critically.

"Ugly," he said.

"It is ugly, as long as it works, I'll like it." Alric replied.

"Bit like me then?" Stromni asked. That got a short laugh from both of them. The next morning, they installed them. Hal leaned over one of the open housings, frowning as he peered inside.

"Can't see it," he said. Alric nodded.

"It's covered." Hal straightened, looking unconvinced.

"How are we supposed to tell if it's running?"

"Uhh… You feel it?"

"That's not the same." It wasn't. Without the faint glow leaking from the stones, the boilers looked inert until the heat began to build. It made judging their state harder, slower, less certain. They lit the first batch anyway. Steam rose gradually, then more steadily as the water approached a boil. Alric watched the timing closely, marking each stage in his head, comparing it to what he expected. At first, nothing seemed different. Then the expected drop didn't come. Hal glanced at him.

"They should've gone by now."

"It hasn't." They waited longer. Still nothing.

"Check the others," Alric said. Henry moved along the line, checking each boiler in turn.

"They're going out," he called back. A slow breath left Alric's chest. They kept watching. By the end of the first cycle, the pattern was clear. The stones were lasting longer. Not by a small margin, either. Hal let out a low whistle. Alric nodded, agreeing with whatever sentiment the whistle carried, though his gaze remained fixed on the boilers. For a brief moment, the world narrowed to that success. The theory had held. The material had done what it was supposed to do.

The problem, at least in part, had been solved. It was three boiler cycles later that they noticed one of the boilers dip. It was subtle. The rolling boil softened slightly, the surface losing some of its agitation. Hal noticed it first.

"That one's going." That was three times their usual duration.

"Find the one that's gone off. Keep an eye on the others." Hal nodded, beginning to remove the stones to check them. One by one the stones slowly turned off. One pushed closer to four cycles. Alric's attention sharpened, tracking each variation as it appeared. The differences were small at first, then more pronounced.

"They're not matching," he said.

"But we expected that." By midday, they were collecting the unwrapped stones. They had only run one boiler with wrapped stones. Stromni would need to wrap the rest. The boilers would be out of sync, he knew. Some would hold steady while others failed early. The staff adapted instinctively, swapping stones mid-cycle, adjusting flows, delaying certain batches to compensate for others. It would keep things running. Barely. The predictability, however, was gone.

Hal wiped his hands and looked at Alric, unease clear in his expression.

"This will be worse," he said. Alric didn't answer immediately, because it would be. Before, the stones failed early, but they failed consistently. You could plan around it, schedule it, control it. Now they lasted longer but they couldn't be trusted.

"I'll think of something. If they last three times longer, means we can make three times as much beer with the same mana" Alric explained the upsides. His mind turned the problem over again, piece by piece. The variation comes from contact. Contact comes from shape. Shape can't be fixed without cutting. Cutting needs a jeweler. Which we don't have. So what's left? We could try make a fine powder from metal shavings, build a bigger housing maybe? He exhaled slowly.

If each stone behaved differently, then you didn't force them to match. You sorted them. Tested them. Grouped them. Matched similar ones together. It would work. It would have to. But it meant more stones. Far more. Enough to test, to compare, to group the outliers and keep only those that aligned. Enough to build sets that behaved the same.

"That's expensive," he said quietly. Hal glanced over.

"What is?"

"A solution." Hal didn't look reassured. Alric straightened slowly, his gaze returning to the boilers, to what would be the uneven rhythm he had introduced into his own system. The adamantite had worked exactly as intended. And it had introduced a number of new problems that were, in their own way, just as interesting. I should 'probably' start learning magic at some point.