Zeus

A soft bluish light cast shadowed constellations throughout the room. The electric crackle of lightning and thunder within the Stormcatcher’s Domain sounded more comforting than threatening to the Banescale who thought about the number of positive and negative electrical charges needed for such a phenomenon to occur. Zeus knew the intricacy of how things worked together like no other dragon in Sornieth. To disentangle his overly analytical mind, one would need to invent new numbers, letters, likely even new sounds and scents. To Zeus, there wasn’t an idea that was set in stone, an invention that hadn’t been modified or reimagined in some way. The world worked around clocks that could be dismantled and cables that could be rerouted, buried in the silence of a carefully crafted circuit board.

Zeus’ lab looked more like the aftermath of a chaotic painter’s canvas than a room for engineering. Exposed utilities, coils of copper, and buckets of steel littered the metal worktables where several unfinished inventions rested. Except for the occasional thunder, all was silent as Zeus watched a small Nocturne frantically rush about the room in a frenzied blur, mumbling to himself as he juggled sprockets, multicolored wires, steel pieces, metal disks, and an array of broken receivers.

“You need to disconnect the joists from the rectangular beams under the eave lines,” Zeus said flatly. “Because you’ll be attaching two different materials, it won’t hold unless you can recalibrate the voltvolley.”

Zeus circled Starkindler like a predator, his mind racing with new tasks to give the Nocturne that would last long into the night. At the mention of the voltvolley, Starkindler dived for the instrument only to be knocked aside by Zeus’ tail. Dropping everything he’d been holding, Starkindler looked on in weary confusion, eyes glistening either from lack of sleep or inevitable, frustrated tears. One couldn’t be certain.

Swiftly, Zeus flew over, knocking over contraptions and half-finished projects, and yanked the voltvolley from Starkindler’s talons. Under the glow of the luminous stars, Zeus could’ve been a mad scientist closing in on his undead creation, the gleam of metal reflected in his eyes. Starkindler slid next to the Banescale as he worked, simultaneously awed and a little frightened at Zeus’ sudden concentration.

“What are we building exactly?” Starkindler asked as nuts and bolts flew.

Zeus avoided his gaze. “If you don’t know what we’re building, you don’t belong here,” Zeus said, cranking something into place.

“Oh, it’s for the storage, isn’t it?” Starkindler perked up.

“What use will this invention be in storage?” Zeus snapped.

“Well, see the two pulleys here? I thought that’d make a neat device to pull the shelving down. And now see how you’re drilling that gable into the side here, like you’re making a double-sloped roof? Well now it has the structural strength to hold three times its weight. If we built a secret space that receded into the walls, we could…”

The more Starkindler spoke, the harder Zeus gripped the piece of steel he was holding until he threw it against the domed walls, shattering panels in an echoing burst of glass—the start of demolition, the start of reworking the storage space into something new and untainted. An understanding passed, and as soon as Starkindler turned to begin tearing apart more materials to use, Zeus’ expression softened just the slightest. It was as fleeting as a lightning bolt captured in a swirling raincloud, yet some might say his fondness was as powerful as a storm. Starkindler’s idea wasn’t bad, not at all—just needed some finetuning, some guidance. Zeus said nothing as he soundlessly rearranged a few tools so Starkindler would notice. When the Nocturne came over, Zeus glared in disapproval, but Starkindler just smiled and continued working.
Written by LostGirl!