Four Months: Ravian (4)

Day 9

Ravian emerges from his tent, his eyes widening as they are immediately drawn to the towering central dome. Bathed in the soft, silvery glow of the moonlight, the structure stands as a testament to his vision and determination. The cylindrical base of recently dried concrete measures 72 meters in both height and width, its surface rough yet uniform, reflecting the meticulous care taken in its construction. "A sight to behold," he whispers to himself, his voice filled with a mixture of pride and awe.

He steps closer, his eyes tracing the curves of the dome that crowns the cylinder. Sixty meters in diameter and 30 meters in height, the dome seems to reach for the stars, its surface gleaming in the night. With the added elevation of 8 meters from the moved dirt, the entire structure reaches a majestic 110 meters. He can almost feel the cool, solid touch of the concrete, and the scent of freshly turned earth mingles with the night air.

Turning his attention to the rest of the area, enclosed by the second wall, he notes the elevation increase of roughly 2 meters. His mind quickly calculates the visibility, and he realizes that a person could see the castle from 42 kilometers away. "The crescent-shaped ridge may block one direction," he muses, his voice thoughtful, "but the castle's grandeur more than compensates."

His thoughts then drift to the noble of the village, a baron whose castle is perched on a nearby mountain. It's barely visible from the village, a distant speck against the horizon. Ravian had never met him, but he knows that a meeting is inevitable once the castle project is complete. The thought brings a sense of anticipation, tinged with uncertainty.

A new concern enters his mind, and he begins to pace, his footsteps echoing in the stillness of the night. "I will need soldiers," he says to himself, his voice tinged with frustration. "But I can't just create humanoids or have Wulfric capture one to be mutated." His brow furrows, preferring to solve this issue now.

He stops, his eyes narrowing as he wrestles with the problem. His morals and virtues won't allow for such actions, and he knows he must find another way. Finally, he shrugs, a gesture of both resignation and determination.

"I'll find a way," he says, his voice filled with conviction. "When the time is right, the solution will present itself." Who knows, perhaps some travelers find this castle and he could recruit them into staying here. He taps at the pouch of gold coins tied to his belt, it might come useful at some point.

With a sense of purpose, Ravian turns his attention back to the castle, his mind filled with the next steps of his grand design. Tonight, a particular task awaits him. He looks up at the dome, his eyes reflecting determination. "Glimmerwing," he commands, summoning the specialized swarm. "Prepare the white brass. The dome is ready."

He ascends to the dome, his body transforming into a swarm of bats, a fluid motion that speaks of his mastery over his abilities. The swarms have informed him that the dome's construction is complete, and the concrete is dry. White brass is known for its resistance to corrosion, thanks to its significant zinc component. 1% Silver was added as well for slightly more corrosion resistance and a subtle shift in color to be more silver-like.

The Glimmerwing moves into action, carrying large clay cups filled with molten white brass. The liquid metal shimmers, ready to be poured. "Steady," Ravian instructs, his voice authoritative. "Precision is key."

He oversees the pouring of the metal, watching as it flows over the dome's surface, guided by the Glimmerwing's careful movements. The white brass, enhanced with silver, adheres to the concrete, cooling into a gleaming shell. "Excellent," he says, satisfaction in his voice. "This will endure."

The dome takes on a silvery shine, reflecting the moonlight. It looks as if it has been coated with pure silver, a striking feature in the night. Ravian's expression is one of approval, his eyes taking in the craftsmanship. "This will serve well," he states, his tone matter-of-fact.

He lands on the dome, feeling the cool, metallic surface beneath his feet. The texture of the white brass meets his touch, solid and well-formed. The lingering scent of molten metal fills the air. "Continue the work," he orders the Glimmerwing, his voice firm. "We have much to accomplish."

With a last look at the gleaming dome, Ravian takes to the air again, his mind already shifting to the next stage of construction. He gestures to the Glimmerwing, his hand moving with precision. "Spread the molten metal evenly," he commands, his voice resonating with authority. The Glimmerwing obeys, its movements meticulous as it guides the liquid over the dome's exterior.

Ravian's eyes narrow as he watches the process, his hands weaving a complex spell. A chill fills the air as he casts a freezing spell, the molten metal solidifying instantly. He inspects the surface, his fingers tracing over the metal, feeling for imperfections. "Here," he says, pointing to a small flaw. A burst of fire from his fingertips welds it seamlessly, followed by another cold spell to set it in place.

Satisfied, he turns his attention to the interior of the dome. "Begin the floors," he instructs the swarms and Carminexes, his voice firm. "Ten meters apart." Ten meter floors may seem gigantic but it provides a great degree of flexibility in creating ballrooms and sub-floors whenever needed. He watches as the steel beams are set in place, his hands ready to weld them with magic.

The Carminexes move with agility, their silk tying the beams together, while the swarms hold them up. "Steady," Ravian says, his voice a calm command as he welds the beams, the flames producing a bright flash of light as metal melds together. The scent of molten metal fills the air again, mingling with the earthy aroma of the Carminexes' silk.

He moves on to the next set of beams gracefully, flying and landing upon them, welding them in place before the Carminexes wrap them in their powerful silk. The beams are set in place, the floors taking shape under his guidance. "Continue," he tells the swarms, his voice confident. "We're making progress."

The night wears on, and the castle continues to rise, guided by Ravian's unwavering vision. His eyes, sharp and focused, follow the swarms and Carminexes as they work in harmony, each movement precise and deliberate. "Steady, now," he instructs, his voice resonating with authority as he welds with his fire magic. "Each piece must fit perfectly."

Floor by floor, the interior of the castle takes shape, the swarms moving with a grace that mirrors Ravian's own. "Eight floors," he murmurs, almost to himself, satisfied as he looks all the way from the first to the eight floor. "Good progress." His eyes linger on the construction, taking in the details, the way the beams fit together, the alignment of the walls.

As the first light of dawn approaches, Ravian turns to the Carminexes. "Begin weaving the red curtains," he commands, his voice firm. "And you, Timberwraith, craft the wooden frames for the windows." Ravian telepathically projected his thoughts into the creature's mind, startling it at first before it quickly understood. He watches as they set to work, their movements fluid and skilled, each creature performing its duty with a dedication that reflects his own.

The swarms move to the floors, applying cement with a care that speaks of their connection to Ravian. He observes them, his eyes narrowed, ensuring that each application is smooth and even. "Excellent," he says, his voice carrying a note of approval. "Continue."

He takes a moment to survey the progress, his gaze sweeping over the castle, taking in the gleam of the white brass dome, the silvery shine of the welded beams, the rich red of the curtains. "We are on track," he tells the swarms, his voice filled with determination. "Our work is not done."

With a final look, he retreats to his tent, his body weary but his mind still alert. As he drifts into sleep, his thoughts remain on the castle, the plans and possibilities that await him.

Unbeknownst to him, as the creatures continue their work in the daytime, a figure flies in circles above the castle. It observes them with interest, its eyes sharp and calculating, before flying away, leaving no trace of its presence just as previous days.

Day 10

As the concrete continues to dry, Ravian's hands move with practiced ease, guided by the knowledge his father imparted to him. The mathematics and architecture lessons of his youth come alive as he directs the swarms, each piece fitting into place with precision. Wooden frames rise, forming the skeleton for the hallways and rooms. The beams are meticulously carved, some shaped into realistic reliefs of deer, each one a work of art that adds to the castle's charm.

While the frames take shape, Ravian's attention shifts to the floor coverings. He creates more sets of swarms, each one tasked with placing geometric planks of wood in specific rooms. The bedrooms come to life with white concrete walls and wooden floors, accented by red curtains and ornate green brass. The balconies are framed by four columns, each gilded with corrosion-resistant brass and adorned with intricate patterns that catch the eye.

The work continues, the swarms moving with a synchronicity that mirrors Ravian's focus. The wooden floors are laid, each plank fitting seamlessly into the next. Square plates of ornate green brass are embedded, their surfaces etched with delicate designs that add a touch of elegance. The rooms take shape, a harmonious blend of color and texture that speaks of careful craftsmanship and attention to detail.

With the interior progressing, Ravian turns his attention to the towers and baroque structures surrounding the central area. He marks the locations, each one chosen with care, and the steel beams are brought forth. The towers rise, their silhouettes adorned with ornamental ironwork that adds to their grandeur. The baroque structures are equally impressive, their facades decorated with elaborate stonework that reflects the castle's opulence.

The night wears on, the castle growing under Ravian's watchful eye. The swarms and Carminexes work in harmony, each movement precise and deliberate. The sound of construction fills the air, a constant reminder of the progress being made. The castle's silhouette looms against the horizon, its towers and domes a majestic sight that promises beauty and grandeur.

As dawn approaches, Ravian takes a moment to survey the progress. The castle's exterior is a marvel of design, its walls adorned with intricate carvings and its windows framed by ornate wooden arches. The interior is equally impressive, a blend of form and function that reflects Ravian's aesthetic. Satisfied with the night's work, he retires, leaving the swarms and Carminexes to continue their tasks, each one contributing to the castle's growing magnificence.