18 TOURBILLON

As the waves foamed on majestic ridges in front of the Medeia, crossing the Perseic Sea towards the west, Glax listened to the rhythmic singing of the rowers, thoughtfully.

He couldn't really stay on the bottom deck, where they rowed. The ship in general didn't smell well, but as the voyage progressed, he pondered that one of humanity's greatest inventions had been the 24-hour deodorant.

Rasmus had returned to the ship, only to say that he would meet him at Athios. Jolla was not well to travel alone!

Glax understood Rasmus, he had been there, done that before. Friends don't compete with wives... And he also wouldn't let his wife board a ship alone _ while he had completely stupid plans to spend the first few days of his wedding...

Except that was what he was doing right now, of course.

Glax looked again at the objects in his bag, after discreetly checking that the officers and the captain were distracted. He had the ampoule with ichor he found in Armorion, and the grenade launcher the god had given him. He was sure he had two very useful things in his possession, but he already had confirmation - he was carrying items prohibited by the Empire.

However, what he found in Glax's belongings was as interesting as those items.

In the palm of his hand, there was a pocket watch.

A small analog clock, a jewel, and a 3-in-1 mystery, actually.

The delicate mechanism sounded with an almost imperceptible tic toc. Its exterior, encapsulated in a crystal box protected by vselys steel and gold, was made with a finesse that demonstrated the virtuoso of the artisan.

When Glax opened the lid, he came across a dial showing the earth and the moon, two ingeniously cut gems, revolving around the sun, a resplendent yellow diamond. A tourbillon* and a clock also spun around the sun. The fascinating object was perfectly accurate.

Glax knew what was there, driving that little mechanism forever _ ichor. A tiny amount pulsing steadily until the end of time.

There was a message embedded on the metal box, but unlike the 'Stygian' he could read, this language was unknown to him. Was it the language of the vselys?

He was sure that this was an object of great value to him. Maybe it was more valuable than anything else he found among Glax's things. As a metal plate guaranteeing an Imperial Family Favor, with the same symbols that he saw in Medeia. He could assume that this wasn't just some kind of worthless plaque of merit, but some kind of blank check.

He needed to know more about this Favor, and how he could use it. Glax was sure that if it was what he thought it was, it could be very useful at some crucial time.

Still, Glax, who in his previous life had never been an engineer or even a fan of weapons, thought he needed to balance things out on his side.

After all, he no longer felt like a warrior just because he woke up in the body of this Stygian.

Glax actually realized that if he had an advantage in this world, because of his ill-scheduled isekai, it was that he had this strange ability with mechanisms.

Unfortunately, that put him against the law.

And if he wanted to take advantage of his knowledge, and even discover everything about mechanisms in Stygia, he would have to be discreet. Chriseis had already hinted at that.

But he could use some of that sea voyage to not only find out more about Stygia, but perhaps to get some tools. Medeia should have tools to deal with more advanced mechanisms, since it had all those gears and differentials. And these tools should be in Malko's possession.

He waited until he saw Malko go up to the upper deck, and sit beside the taffrail, to enjoy the sea breeze on his face.

Glax approached,

"I imagine you get a lot of questions like the one my wife asked."

Malko snorted, feigning indifference and still looking at the horizon.

"It is her choice to remain ignorant, and to be proud of it."

The deep thought didn't surprise Glax, but he pondered the words. "But her situation is not her fault."

"I can blame the individual, and the people. But I can also blame myself for staying in that situation. Ahhh…" he showed displeasure and raised an eyebrow. "What bothers you exactly? Or is that just a way to start a conversation?"

"Erm… Both, I think. I understand you are a prisoner of war, with a special permit. But…" he searched for the right words to look like he knew what he was talking about. "The wounds are still open. So your situation is not clear to me."

Malko finally turned to Glax. "There's nothing you can or should do about it now, champion. Thanks for caring, I think. Do you want to talk about your wife's arm? If there's a problem with it, I don't know if I could fix it. My knowledge is limited."

"Well… I don't think she and I are close enough that I can ask if she wants help. I think it will come with time. But… I'm concerned."

"Uhum." Malko shook his head, showing he understood. Glax was quick to say,

"Well, you know what's in there, don't you?"

The slave sighed. "I suppose you do. She has quite a relic there. A work of art, I would say. It would be interesting to know the history of that artifact."

"What I mean is that... the energy source..."

"We better not talk about the energy source, Glax. Many powerful people today would do their best to destroy all those involved in machines, even the simplest ones. This absurd hatred has a solid base of supporters and not even some more open-minded factions dare to discuss it openly…"

"Yeah, I think I got the message. But you know... I was in Armorion and took a souvenir from there. Do you know what's in there?"

"I didn't know until we came here. I had never strayed too far from Pharys, not even during the war," said Malko, suddenly opening up.

Glax figured it had to do with him going through his bag and revealing that he had something of Armorion.

"Would you lend me tools if I asked?" He smiled.

"You know I won't."

Glax decided to show the ampoule, but not the gun.

"Do you know what this is?" he asked. At least it would be a measure of how much Malko really knew about it.

"Ichor, that's what they called it. My old master said that this was the source of the gods' immortality. That's what he discovered according to all the time he was here…"

"Are you… are you a vselys?" Glax deduced just now, when Malko handed him back the vial. So far, Glax wasn't sure.

Malko looked at him with a strange gleam in his eyes and the shadow of a smile on his lips, but he nodded. "But I'm not the only one on this ship, am I?"

Glax swallowed, remembering the words written on his face. Was he the son of someone like Malko?

"You can't be that surprised. It's not exactly a hidden fact that you were born in Valya. At least, that's what Laertes told me. I think that makes you technically a vselys, doesn't it?"

Glax hoped his mask would at least hide his surprise at the direction of the conversation. Strong suspicion washed over his mind.

"Well, yes. Everyone knows it. My Mom and Dad were on the expedition to Valya."

"Yes, your mother was one of the Prince's bodyguards, now Emperor of Stygia. It was quite an event. Too bad that, right after the expedition's return, the Sanction hit all resident vselys by surprise..."

Malko couldn't hide the bitterness in his voice, even though he was smiling and shrugging. After all, he was now an imperial slave.

"Oops. Dude, I don't know what to say. Only that the ban is something I don't understand and that doesn't make a lot of sense."

Malko sighed, seeming not to want to discuss it either. "Well, Champion, just don't get into my shop again, okay? We don't want to be upset with each other, do we?"

"No..." Glax saw Malko get up to go back to the lower deck, but stopped him with a rush. When would he have the opportunity to know what was written on that watch? There weren't lots of vselys out there. Although he could not fully trust Malko, what could he do? Buy a dictionary?

"Hey listen. Don't go just yet! I... I need to know something. Do you know how to read vselys?"

"If I know how to read… Mors*! Did you take the day to offend me, champion? Just because I am a slave, do you imagine I am uneducated as an Echelian of the mountains?" This time, taken by surprise, Malko showed his irritation. Furthermore, every time he spoke the word 'champion', there was an implicit condescension in his voice. But this time, curiosity was easing his offense.

"Excuse me." Glax ignored the offense. "My bad. I'm elated to find someone who might be able to... Well, see. What is written here?" He opened his palm, showing the back of the watch.

And Malko leaned over to look, curiosity plastered on his colorless face.