Wheels, not Hooves

KNOCK- KNOCK-

"Come in." Answered Desser.

Magi Cornelius first entered with the blacksmith and engineer following behind him. They rolled a sturdy metal chair with luxurious cushioning and wheels that resembled modern-day car tires.

The engineer first spoke:

"Your highness, we present the first prototype. The wheelchair was built with your specifications in mind. The wheel design was challenging to make. We don't understand the use of 'rubber' as you called it for the tire design. Based on your description of 'rubber,' we used the sap of a certain tree that produces a strange liquid similar to what you mentioned."

The engineer brought the wheelchair closer for Desser to inspect.

"Great work! We can work on the pattern of the tires to create more traction later. For now, this mobility chair is perfect!"

The prince was extremely pleased. Although he advanced their technology by creating the concept of 'rubber wheels.' It was necessary to give him better stability, comfort, and traction when moving. All these would spell the difference between life and death when using it during combat.

"I will reward both of you for your efforts. Tell me what you'd like, and I will do my best to accomplish it." Desser waiting on both of them to decide.

The engineer did not miss a beat and immediately said, "I'd like to be an exclusive engineer for you, my prince! The idea of using wheels on a chair and rubber for wheels is amazing. This wheelchair will help others who struggle with movement. Also, I can imagine the many uses rubber will have in the decades to come. Would you allow this old many into your court of engineers?"

Cornelius had remained silent but was angered when he heard the engineer say something so outrageous.

"A commoner and one that hasn't received Brutreq's blessing? Your greed will be the end of you, Zenof."

"My apologies if I offended either of you." Zenof, the engineer, knelt before Desser and the old Magi.

"Enough, Cornelius. I see no issue with such a request. Why would you be against it?"

Cornelius remembered that the prince lost his memories about court decorum and explained to Desser:

"A commoner is typically not allowed within the court. Only the king and the crowned prince could appoint court members, including commoners. Although you could appoint him, the very minimum requirement is for the commoner to receive Brutreq's blessing."

"And what does that entail?" The prince asked with curiosity.

"That would be going to the temple for your first Talent. Zenof is known to not follow our religion, which isn't a problem in Mogar, as long as they recognize the king and crown prince as the sovereign over their lives. In that way, they are following our first and central teaching.

"Zenof refuses to set foot in Brutreq's hallowed ground, so he had not received his first Talent from Brutreq or our god's blessing!"

Cornelius looked at Zenof with disgust. The engineer stayed silent while looking at the ground without raising his head. The old Magi's harsh words and the engineer's humbled pose frustrated Desser.

The prince saw the engineer that never questioned him and did his best to create his vision being belittled and tossed aside because of tradition. Nothing angered Desser more than stomping on someone's hard work.

It reminded him of how his mother would ignore how he would clean, cook, use his money, and help her when she was incapacitated. He'd do all that and never be recognized for it.

"Who am I, Cornelius?" Desser asked.

"You are Prince Desser Mogar." He answered with certainty.

"No. Who am I?" He asked again with more annoyance.

"You are a descendant of our great prophet, future ruler, and a prophet to your people." He looked at Desser with confusion.

"No! Who. Am. I?" Desser put emphasis on every word.

Cornelius stayed silent, unsure what he was saying wrong. The prince noticed his confusion and proceeded to answer his own question:

"Am I not Brutreq's prophet? Are my words not his words if I say they are? So if I say he will join my court, he has my blessing and that of Brutreq! Now, explain to me why you refute his request on my behalf?"

Desser's cold gaze met Cornelius. The old Magi shuttered, and his hand began to sweat. Very few times had he felt such an indifferent look.

What made him sweat more was the realization that he had insulted the pinnacle of his faith. Cornelius was very pious and would die for his faith. That also includes dying for the royal family that represented the foundation of his cult.

Cornelius knelt before Desser beside the engineer that was there still kneeling.

"Your wisdom has shown me the error in my ways! I meant to offence but accept any punishment to appease your anger."

Desser shook his head. He did not want to punish anyone but to show how ridiculous the situation was and how frustrated he felt.

"Don't repeat the same mistake is enough, Cornelius. You are a great help to my recovery. I could not punish my healer." He sighed.

"Zenof was it? I can't promise you that since I prefer to reward a position that high based on results. However, you have shown me that you are capable, so I will request your assistance in future projects. If you do well again, I will secure you a spot in the court of engineers. Is that satisfactory for you?"

"You honour me, your highness!" Zenof yelled with excitement. Just the fact he will be the engineer for Desser's next project was an exciting proposition. That's all he really wanted by joining the court.

Zenof was exiled from the mainland because of a deadly mistake he had made. It is a fact that haunts him to this day, and it'll haunt him in the near future.

Desser then asked the blacksmith the same question, to which he answered with: "a woman to let loose with a barrel of booze." The blacksmith smiled wickedly.

"You want me to fund a sex worker for you?" Desser asked.

Cornelius cleared his throat at the innocent and confused prince to get his attention. "I believe he means buying a female slave. We don't have sex workers because of our laws."

Desser's mind was spinning. He had too many questions, but he knew damn well he wasn't buying a slave for anyone.

"I won't buy you a slave, but I'll provide you a barrel of mead every week for a full year to make up for it."

"Meh. As long as I can drown in it."