Chapter 134 - Dhampir Knight

"Oh, my god..." Cylea gasped, in shock.

"You created this?" Mymesia whispered, visibly confused. "But why... I-I mean, then why did they...?"

"They took it," Theora gritted her teeth. "Those assholes stole my design and rejected me. I handed it all to them. The plans, the miniature, everything, and they had the balls to reject my application, telling me it wouldn't work!"

She had started raising her voice, and now several eyes were turning to them. Cylea grabbed Theora's wrist, pressing gently.

"Theora, don't," she whispered.

"Why not?" Theora hissed. "Those assholes stole my work! I made that very miniature! They can't-"

"Theora, they can. I believe you, of course I do, but can you prove it?" Cylea asked in a rushed whisper. "Theora, can you prove to everyone here, right now, that you made this?"

"I... I know I did," Theora said, although her anger was deflating quickly. "I recognize my own work-"

Her cousin gave her a sorry expression as reality dawned on Theo.

"You might, but people won't believe a young girl so easily," Cylea said. "That guy is just a speaker representing the Guild. Even if you call them out on it, you can't prove it; you'll only cause a scene."

That cooled Theora's anger a couple more degrees. She was still angry, but another cold, dark reality crept in on her. If she caused a scene, she might get arrested for causing trouble or something like that. She hadn't forgotten Kleis' words; she couldn't draw too much attention to herself right now. She might have behaved very differently if she hadn't had a very recent and brutal awakening about how closely she was watched without knowing and how much risk she was really at. This was precisely the kind of commotion someone looking to harm her would be looking for.

"But it's so unfair!" Mymesia exclaimed from Theora's other side, echoing her thoughts.

"I know, and I'm sorry," Cylea said, looking genuinely sorry. "But that's... that's just how it is, Theo. You're a young woman. Even if you brought up your own copy of the schematics or something, they'll deny everything. I'm really, really sorry. This is... This is just how the world works."

She had said those last words in a whisper, but Theora heard the words she didn't say; that was how the world worked for women. And it angered Theora even further. Her design had been good. It was so good that, just a few months later, the Guild was ready to mass-produce their own to sell at a fair, which meant that she had likely been rejected because she was a young woman, and they could just take the creations of young applicants and stamp their names on it while they destroyed childhood dreams in their wake. It was so unfair that Theora was shaking with anger. If it weren't for Cylea, she would have definitely spoken up or, worse, broken something. The speaker's nose, or the stall. She kept thinking about how long she'd spent on her application, the days and weeks agonizing over how to present her project best. She had chosen something that would appeal to the greater public and be helpful to many while making sure it showcased her technical talent. This mowing spider wasn't just her creation; it had been her love letter to Wordin Valley. And now it was displayed at a fair by a money-hungry guild that would never bother to reach out to isolated villages like her home.

"Theo?" Cylea stirred her away from her thought, her feet already turned toward the nearest street out of the plaza.

But Theora tightened her fist, glaring at the speaker, and Cylea's expression fell.

"Theo, don't-"

"I won't make a scene," she simply whispered before clearing her throat and crossing her arms.

If there was one lesson she'd learned from her mom, it was that some fights could be won without violence. Theora's eyes were riveted on the speaker, and a vicious grin formed on her lips. She heard Cylea sigh and felt Mymesia straighten on her other side.

"Hey!" she interrupted the speaker, getting the crowd around her to look her way as well. "May I ask a couple of questions?"

"Of course, young lady!" the speaker smiled. "Go right ahead!"

His confidence almost got Theora excited for what she had coming; he definitely didn't think she was about to cause him some trouble. Theora was a poor actress, but she did her best to act genuinely interested, raising her eyebrows and tilting her head.

"This miniature is interesting, but how would bigger models work? This one is just moving around on some already fresh soil! What about dry soil, or rocky ones? Would the metal be solid enough to dig the ground?"

The man's expression fell noticeably before he regained his composure, aware of the many pairs of eyes on him.

"O-of course! The feet of our mowing spiders are strong enough to dig even the toughest grounds!"

"Really? Then what would happen on wet grounds or sandy ones? Wouldn't it damage this automaton?"

"Absolutely not!" the man said, sounding offended. "Our engineers have prepared the mowing spiders for any conditions!"

"Really?" Theora smiled. "How about we see it then? Should we wet this miniature's soil or put some sand down to see it? I'd rather see it used in the toughest conditions!"

The man seemed to deflate a little, glancing down at the miniature spider, visibly weighing the chances of it malfunctioning. Unfortunately for him, there were many eyes and ears around, now waiting to see how he'd react to the challenge. He cleared his throat.

"What a brilliant idea!" he exclaimed.

He grabbed his cup of hot water from his previous demonstration and poured it over the mowing spider, which was still moving around in its tiny square of soil. Then, after a few seconds of tense silence, as it became clear the mowing spider could still do its work around wet soil, he beamed triumphantly.

"See? No issues!"

"...What about sand?" Theora grinned.

The man glared at her for a second, visibly annoyed but high on his previous victory, looked around, grabbed a pouch of sand he'd used for an earlier presentation, and doused the spider in it.

"See! It works just fine! In any conditions, rain or shine, this wonder of an automaton will-"

"You sure about that?"

Theo's words made the man frown and look down, finally noticing what everyone else was witnessing. The mowing spider was in trouble this time: as it was previously wet, the sand was now sticking to its gears, and its movements were chaotic, digging itself in the same spot instead of moving around. It looked stuck, making jerky movements and creaking sounds, visibly protesting against the wet sand ruining its gears. Theora smirked. She had a vivid memory of an argument she'd had back in Wordin Valley when a mowing spider had been forgotten outside overnight. The machine could handle being wet, but being put on sandy ground when it was still drenched was sure to render it useless. She had spent half a day cleaning and repairing the mowing spider that had encountered that issue, berating the owner about letting it get in this condition. Anyone with the most basic knowledge in engineering knew better than to allow wet sand near perfectly oiled gears. The speaker was a great orator, but in the end, he was just a moron reciting his lines.

"Put it on bumpy, uneven ground, and it will be rendered useless, too," Theora added. "You'll have to replace parts every month. If left in a field without a high enough enclosure, it will get out of bounds. It might be perfectly fine on completely flat, enclosed ground with gentle soil, but it will be useless if not in the perfect conditions."

Theora had identified those issues in her initial speech and even devised solutions: for each type of soil, she recommended different types of dents for the spider's legs and various types of metal alloy to last longer in different weathers, depending on the region they'd be sold to. The south needed an alloy resistant to the breezy, wet, and salt-saturated winds, while the north needed one that would work even in the cold, dry winter. But the miniature spider was the one she'd sent, with the cheapest alloy and the basic dents at the end of its legs. Those people only cared about selling a significant number to the masses without catering to specific issues the buyers would encounter; it was a recipe for disaster that would arise in the weeks following the sales, but by then, it would be too late. Theora refused to let those money-hungry bastards rob farmers of a single credit with her stolen design.

"We... We will have solutions on the bigger models for all of that!" the man said, but he didn't sound convinced himself.

"Really?" Theora frowned. "Didn't you say this was an exact copy of the bigger ones? How will the Guild cater to the needs of each farmer then?"

"It's... It's up to the buyer to determine their need for this machine!" the speaker scoffed. "We're clear about its use, so people should understand the ideal type of soil for which it will work or not-"

"What the hell?" exclaimed a woman a few steps away from them. "You expect our lands to all be on even terrain, with gentle soil? Have you stepped foot in the countryside, you moron? Those things will be useless in most fields! No more sore shoulders, my ass! Your fancy gears would be more useful in a museum than a grain field!"

"You're just trying to rob us with your overpriced shiny piece of junk!" someone else shouted. "You think farming is easy? I'd like to see your shiny nails in the dirt!"

"Let's go," Cylea whispered, pushing Theora and Mymesia.

They quickly escaped the upset crowd, but not without Theora giving one last satisfied smirk toward the panicked speaker. The three of them quietly took off to the first street leading out of the plaza, waiting until they were a bit more alone to talk again.

"That was so satisfying," Mymesia grinned, slapping her hands together excitedly. "Well done, Theo!"

"Are you alright with what happened?" Cylea asked. "You just ruined your own design..."

"I'd rather kill my own creation than risk having it used to rob the people I wanted it to serve," Theora replied. "...I'm not happy about it, but I'll make my peace with it."

"If you say so..."

"It's still so horrible that they just used your machine without telling you!" Mymesia said. "It sounds like a villainous plot from one of my DaisyNovel! Is there really nothing we can do?"

"I can decide never to work for the Guild or hand them one of my designs again," Theora scoffed. "That's it, I guess. Cyl's right, there's... nothing I can do to get my design back. I handed it to them like an idiot."

"You couldn't have known," Cylea said, gently side-hugging her cousin.

"No, but now I do."

Theora made a silent, personal vow never to be so trusting again. She didn't want to show how upset she was to her cousins, when it was their last time together before she went back to the north again, but she was. She had never forgotten the cruel bite of rejection. It had sat in the back of her mind like some scar she was trying hard to get over, but right now, the wound was freshly opened and painful again. At the very least, now, she knew her talent had never been an issue. Her rejection wasn't due to anything she lacked, but rather, to some fragile egos and backward mindsets. She refused to let them win. They might have stolen her creation, but now, they would have trouble selling it at all due to her intervention. She had spoken up when their stall was crowded, and the word would hopefully spread; Theora had spent enough time with farmers to know that word of mouth would prevent many from investing their money in her creation, or so she hoped. It had her wondering how many more submissions from applicants they had stolen in the past. Were there other creations introduced at this fair that someone who wasn't in the Guild had created?

"...Do you think something could be done about this?" Cylea whispered, in tune with Theora's thoughts. "I mean, not right away, but... Since, you know, you have friends in high places now..."

"I'll think about it."

Theora had thought about it, but she felt a bit awkward going to the King to complain about her project being stolen. She felt like a helpless child who couldn't help but run to a higher authority the minute she was in trouble. She knew she had no power herself to stop or expose the Guild's misdeeds, but she would at least try to think about it. With the King sick, there was no reason to let him know right away, anyway.

Trying to push the gloom to the back of her mind, Theora appreciated her cousins' efforts to distract her. Cylea was obviously trying hard, while Mymesia didn't take long to forget about the incident and be distracted by the shopping again. Perhaps because of the earlier event, Theora felt the need to let loose a bit and, exceptionally, indulged in some retail therapy. She and her cousins happily refueled their stock of stationery items for their future letter exchanges, and Theora even let her cousins drag her into a clothing store to buy a couple of new shirts; even she had to admit the ones she'd bought before had been already quite used and damaged. They spent time checking out the new items from the spring collection, and Theora even bought a new hair ribbon for Mymesia as an engagement gift.

They didn't stay late shopping, however, as Theora's aunt had insisted they come back early for dinner. Theora was curious as to why her aunt and cousins seemed so excited about having dinner, and much to her surprise, it wasn’t Herise that greeted them at the door. Instead, it was none other than her aunt Gevenia who let them inside, and after the door was closed, suddenly wrapped Theora in a hug without warning.

"...Auntie? Is everything alright?" Theora asked, suddenly worried.

"Everything is fine," Gevenia said, taking a step back. "I was tasked to give you a big hug from my brother."

"...From Dad?" Theora blinked.

"Yes. He's sorry he cannot be here tonight, but he asked me to give you a big hug on his behalf and wish you a happy birthday."

Theora froze. Her birthday. She'd almost forgotten all about her birthday date being all wrong, and how she'd learned from her aunt that she was born in the same spring as Cylea, not in the fall over a year later like she thought. Her aunt gave her a sorry sigh.

"It isn't the exact day, but I didn't want you to go back without celebrating your birthday at least once. I'm hoping you'll be here for Cylea's, but I couldn't not do anything for my niece. It's not much, but I thought a nice dinner-"

"It's great, Auntie," Theora interrupted her with a little smile. "It's very kind of you. Thank you."

Theora had mixed feelings about celebrating her birthday in the spring, but she knew her aunt meant well. And if her dad had known they were doing this, that meant he probably approved of it as well. Maybe it was time to let go of that secret about her real birthday.

"Good," Gevenia said. "Well then, you girls should go wash your hands and get ready for dinner. I would have ordered a cake at the bakery, but your cousins insisted you love Herise's baking, so she made you a nice lemon cake. Oh, and I have letters for you."

"Letters?" Theora asked, excited.

"From Wordin Valley. Your dad and friends all wrote for your birthday."

Theora's heartbeat picked up a wild rhythm. She couldn't wait to read them all. It felt as if it had been far too long since she had heard from her hometown.