The moment I finished penning Stormbound Ambush, I turned my attention to the second image selected for the month’s image-based story, seen below. The vibrant purple gears caught my attention, bringing the scrolling to a stop. Instantly, I had a flashback to a series where magic and engineering collided. While this particular series segregated the abilities between the mages and the engineers, the image made me wonder what would happen if a tinkerer could wield some amount of magic.
It didn’t take long for me to take that spawned idea and craft a fun tale. Tucked between a tanner’s shed and an old apothecary, a pair of places where most people would never bother to look, lies a hastily constructed workshop sitting unacknowledged. Its walls are built from scavenged lumber, its shelves bow beneath the weight of forgotten metal, and its lanterns flicker with a stubborn glow. If you listen closely enough, you can hear the soft ticking and clinking inside.
Elara Finch has never been one for crowds or conversation. The world beyond her workshop is loud in all the wrong ways. It’s full of careless voices, quick judgments, and people who laugh before they understand. But here, amidst the quiet hum of gears and copper, she finds a peace the city can’t offer. Here, metal obeys her and magic answers her pleas. And she pours her skill and imagination into creations that never break promises or betray her trust.
Today, she stands on the cusp of her most ambitious work yet, a project shaped from discarded armor and stubborn determination. A creation built not just from gears and sheets of steel, but from the quiet resilience of a girl who would rather build something extraordinary than wait for the world to treat her kindly. What begins as another day in her hidden workshop will soon prove that even the smallest spark of magic can shift the balance of power.
Elara’s fingers danced across the components arrayed before the mismatched suit of armor. Her gaze flicked from the collection on the table to the exposed section of the suit’s chest. She selected a medium-sized gear and held it up to the gap in the array. She ran her tongue across her lips and switched it out for a larger piece.
With a grin, she leaned into the cavity and inserted the gear. Then, she covered the space with her hand and closed her eyes. Vibrant purple light spilled out from her fingers, bathing it, making it grow to connect with its neighbors, clicking into its final position.
Once settled into place, Elara glanced at the remaining components and gathered them up. With a broad smile, she scampered across the tiny chamber and stashed the spoked rings into their box.
She always preferred the quiet hum of gears over the meaningless banter of people, let alone those closer to her age. The simple things she created never broke their promise, disappointed her, or teased her. No, her creations protected her. And they did it without growing tired or complaining about their burden.
With a smile, she rubbed her shoulder, then her gaze flowed across her makeshift workshop. While this space wasn’t on any official maps, she’d cobbled it together herself. Despite her constant efforts, the telltale scents of the abutting tanner’s shed and apothecary hung thick in the air, overpowering the aromas of metal polish, hot oil, and the hint of ozone from the magic she coaxed from her fingertips.
She patted her recent project, her lips curling into a smile. The collection of armor lay across her workbench. The gaps in the humanoid frame were filled with copper bones, brass joints, and several gears. She wiped the sweat from her brow as she closed the armor, sealing away the mechanisms. And with that, her latest creation was poised to take its first steps.
Elara brushed a strand of auburn hair behind her ear and closed her fist. A soft glow washed over her hand before she plucked the ornate stone from the workbench. As she squeezed it, the illumination seeped into the rock. As it leached the light, the runes etched into its surface pulsed like fireflies trapped beneath a sheet of glass.
“Almost there,” she said as she closed her eyes. While the academy’s mages possessed unbound skills and knowledge, her arcane abilities were limited to a narrow aspect. She could animate parts, shape metal, fuse gears, or even create power sources. Most everything else, including creating a spark to light a candle, was beyond her reach.
As the last shred of the glow was transferred to the stone, a creak pulled her gaze to her crooked door. Elara’s expression soured as three boys filled the haphazard doorframe. She recognized the trio from around the city, despite them being older. Each child expressed cruelty born from boredom’s influence.
Garron’s smirk mirrored the skewed entrance as he peered about the workshop. “Look what we’ve found. Little Finchy’s pretending she’s some kind of tinkerer.”
Elara groaned, shoving the rock into its home before she sealed off the cavity, protecting the imbued stone. “Why are you here? I don’t want to deal with your nonsense.”
Hoarse laughter filled the cramped space as one of the trio seized a wrench from her wall. “What’s this for? Is this how you fix your broken toys?”
“Put that down!”
“Or what?” Garron’s chuckle joined the mocking amusement of his friend. He mimed fluttering fingers before knocking over a tray of gears and springs. “Are you going to command your creations to attack us?”
Elara’s gaze fell on the debris lying on the floor like metal snowflakes. Her face tensed as her features pinched to a point, and her palms flared white-hot. “Leave.”
The boys eyed her glowing fingers, unease flickering under their calm. But Garron shook his head as he knocked over another pile of gears, creating a metallic waterfall. “Make me.”
Elara slammed her hand onto the chest plate. The hidden rune burned with a glow leached from her skin. Instantly, the misshapen suit lifted its eyes as grinding metal filled the workshop. It hopped off the bench and rose to its full height, challenging the ceiling. The borrowed lenses glowed a sinister smoky white as a low thrum-like growl emanated from deep within its body.
The boys took scattered steps away from the armor.
Garron’s gaze flicked to Elara as he shrank back. “What is that?”
“My latest creation.” She stepped to the side as she extended an arm toward the trio. “And he doesn’t have much patience for those who tease, taunt, or otherwise bother me.”
The suit of armor strode forward with a speed that its form belied. The constant whirring gears and steam releasing from the armor’s seams made it more menacing than the misshapen plates should have conveyed. In a matter of heartbeats, her creation towered over the shrinking Garron, its brass-tipped fingers wrapped around his shoulder, lifting him like a child brandishing a sheet of paper as a make-believe weapon.
He kicked the metallic suit and cursed as he reached for his pulsing toe. “Put me down!”
It carried the boy outside of Elara’s space and stuffed him inside an empty rain barrel. Before the other boys could flee, the automaton snatched them up and shoved them into flanking barrels. After securing them like dirty laundry, it marched back into the workshop, reclaiming its place on the bench.
Her heart raced as she traced the runes glowing on the chest plate. “That was amazing work.”
The click of the suit’s internals changed a degree for a moment before resuming their normal cadence. Elara tapped the automaton’s side as she smiled. “Was that a little pride?”
The internal gears adjusted again.
“I’m surprised that you’re feeling pleased,” she said, placing a hand on its warm metal arm. “Let’s tinker with your gears and see what we can enhance.”