The conqueror from a dyi.., p.6
The Conqueror from a Dying Kingdom: Volume 2, page 6
“I’m awful fond of mechanical devices. I tinker with timepieces as a hobby. Take a look.”
Lilly gestured toward her desk. She’d set up something resembling a little workbench with lots of dainty metal parts on it.
This looks amazing.
I approached to see it better. There were cogwheels of various sizes along with other components on the desk. The smallest parts were stored inside something that looked like a makeup box with tiny compartments.
These are all clock components?
In the middle of her workbench was a clock with the panel removed. Unlike the pendulum one we had at home, this one was a portable device small enough to fit in someone’s palm—a pocket watch.
I’d seen my mom carrying one of these before, and it had immediately sparked my interest back then. But when I’d asked her if I could try taking it apart, the color had drained from her face, and she’d said, “No. Absolutely not.”
“It must be very delicate,” I said to Lilly.
“Sure is.”
“It’s amazing. I’d love to see how it works.” I never did learn how my mom’s had operated, and I’d been curious ever since.
“I don’t expect you’ll learn much by lookin’.”
“Can I take a peek, at least?”
“Sure thing,” Lilly agreed.
I examined the pocket watch closely and found that most of the parts were still in place. The face, hands, and the cogwheels that moved the hands had been removed and put in a little box nearby, but all the parts that made them move were still assembled.
I already knew that it was possible to store energy inside a pocket watch like this one using a mainspring. The core workings of such a clock had to somehow release that energy in a useful way. If it simply came down to that, though, the mainspring would unleash a driving force the moment it was released, causing the hands on the clock to rotate rapidly before eventually coming to a halt. Getting a hand to move one-sixtieth across the face every second required some sort of pace setting mechanism that regulated the driving force.
With all that in mind, the way that the assemblage before me combined these numerous functions into such a logical and compact manner struck me as a thing of beauty.
Who thought up an arrangement like this? There must be some really smart people out there.
“Did you learn anythin’?” Lilly asked after a while.
“I can’t grasp the fine details, but I understand the overall mechanism.”
“R-Really?”
“Huh? Well...not all of it...”
Did she want me to understand the whole thing?
“Why don’t you tell me what you’ve figured out?”
I guess I’ll tell her.
“There’s a small spring used in the place of a pendulum that ensures the supply of driving force from the mainspring is isochronic. It’s a very interesting idea. I’d have never thought of using a spring that way.”
It was possible to make the clock move in a precise manner using a separate mechanism that, with a fixed rhythm, repeatedly halted the rotation that provided the driving force. In other clocks, the mechanism achieving this effect made use of the properties of a pendulum.
Lilly looked a little surprised. “Y-You can tell by lookin’? Have you seen this mechanism before?”
“No, but...I took a pendulum clock apart at home once.” I’d done so with Yuri.
“Sure, the mechanisms are the same...but you wouldn’t know by lookin’.”
“I’ve been thinking about the way clocks work anyway because I’m curious about them. A pendulum clock’s mechanism won’t function correctly if you change its orientation, so I couldn’t understand how any clock could maintain isochronism while being carried. It turns out they use the contraction of a spring.”
If someone bent a spring, then let go, it would oscillate back and forth. That movement was a periodic motion that could be considered isochronic. This delicate little mainspring likely made use of a similar mechanical property within the body of the clock. I could imagine engineers using repeated trial and error as they experimented with this excellent design before eventually settling on this particular arrangement. In a sense, this clock was a beautiful crystallization of the engineers’ findings.
Still, this clock lacked the permanence of the stars. Friction meant that it would always need oil, and even then, it still wouldn’t keep working forever. It was nothing more than a tool that informed people of the time. It was certainly beautiful and also very interesting, but I had no desire in devoting time to learning all of its secrets. It fell just outside of my true field of interest.
“Well, umm... Have you studied machines, Sham?” Lilly looked at me like she was confused.
“Not really.”
Back when Yuri and I had dismantled the clock, it was so he could teach me about a pendulum’s isochronism along with the principles of vectors. We knew we’d get in trouble if we were caught, so the two of us had secretly taken it apart late at night to look at its insides. Under the faint glow of a nightlight he explained to me how the pendulum’s vectors changed with its movement. You could say that I’d only learned the mechanism behind clocks incidentally.
“What have you studied?”
“I’m not sure you can really call it studying, but...math, celestial mechanics, and physics.”
These were the things I was interested in that Yuri had told me a lot about.
“C-Celestial mechanics? That’s a subject?”
“It’s the study of the motion of stars.”
“O-Oh... You sure are interestin’... Now I can see why Yuri was worried.” Lilly gave me a pained smile.
Huh...?
II
Carol came back while I was playing a leisurely game of togi against Myalo.
“Yuri, I’ve done what I could for Sham.”
I’d asked Carol to be something like Sham’s guardian while she was new to the academy. She seemed to be taking the duty seriously.
I couldn’t imagine anyone bullying Sham now that she’d been introduced to the dorm by Her Royal Highness herself. I felt confident that everything would go smoothly for her...except maybe her studies.
“You two have something arranged, don’t you? You can go and take care of it. Don’t worry about me,” Myalo said from across the togi board.
“You’re sure? Sorry.” I felt bad about leaving the game.
“Hold on. You’re playing togi?” Carol approached us and leaned over the board to get a better look.
Carol wasn’t a strong player. To put it another, less polite way, she sucked. Much like Rook, she loved the game, but she was the unfortunate type who never got any better despite her passion. She’d even studied the standard moves, but it hadn’t been enough—she was still one of the more mediocre players here in the dorm.
“I don’t mind waiting for your game to finish.”
“You can watch, but that’s it.”
A short while later I placed my hand flat on the board. “I concede.”
Myalo simply smiled.
A certain idiot, however, reacted with disbelief. “Huh? You gave up too quickly. Keep playing.”
“He has checkmate in seven,” I said.
To demonstrate, I made another move. Myalo reacted instantly, as if he’d known what I’d do. After we’d repeated that same process four more times, it was clear to see that I was in check. He had me in a corner.
“Oho. I’m surprised you noticed that.” Carol sounded impressed.
It was an understandable reaction. Few people would’ve seen the checkmate coming from seven moves away.
“I was already caught in Myalo’s trap by the time I noticed.”
He was good at luring me into traps. Although that sort of ploy was obvious against most other players, I could never tell with Myalo. He’d let me take a few of his minor pieces, only to pave the way to seize my major pieces. It left me so paranoid that my own offense was weakened, which just made it easier for him to keep up his attacks.
In this game, I’d realized I was just five moves away from walking into checkmate. When I’d tried to maneuver out of it, though, Myalo had simply trapped me into another checkmate through a different sequence of moves. All the while, the state of the board made it look as though it was a close game. I understood why Carol thought I’d given in too early.
“I hate to run off before we’ve had a chance to talk about how the game went, but I don’t think I’ve got a choice,” I said. There was no way I could ignore my arrangement with Carol.
“Very well. I’ll put the board away,” Myalo replied.
“Sorry.”
“Please ensure Her Highness has an enjoyable afternoon.”
Wow, he’s really got the wrong idea.
“We’re not heading out to have fun, you know.”
“Aren’t you? I could have sworn you were going on a date,” Myalo teased.
What a stupid thing to say.
“Don’t be stupid,” Carol told him with an astonished look. For once, we agreed on something. Then she looked to me and asked, “Is today some sort of holiday where everyone says stupid things to each other? It’s just someone else said a similar thing to me in White Birch.”
I’d never heard of a strange event like that.
“It’s just how the situation looks,” Myalo noted with an evil smile on his face.
“No, it doesn’t. Come on, we’re going,” Carol grumbled as she grabbed my hand and led me away.
Myalo watched with great amusement while waving us goodbye.
✧✧✧
In exchange for Carol introducing Sham to the academy, I’d agreed to let her ride my kingeagle. It was barely any trouble at all.
I’d brought my own eagle to the academy, and Carol had gotten it into her head that my skill as a rider was down to my eagle’s good training.
There was no shortage of would-be sky knights, but not all of them had their own kingeagle. Keeping one wasn’t as simple as taking care of a chicken. They were also expensive birds, so the Knight Academy simply couldn’t afford to raise hundreds of them. That was why it was common for anyone from a family wealthy enough to keep kingeagles to have their own personal bird at the academy. For every person using their own bird, one less student would be kicked out of the sky knight course. Because of these reasons, the academy didn’t simply encourage those with birds to bring them—they practically mandated it, barring exceptional circumstances.
The truth was that students who didn’t bring a kingeagle would face many problems. The eagles owned by the Knight Academy endured rough treatment each day, which took a physical toll. The impact this had on the bird’s health increased the chances of an accident.
I hadn’t ridden one of those birds myself, but I knew they couldn’t be pleasant to ride. The academy lacked the time needed to periodically retrain the birds and fix bad habits they’d gained from their unskilled riders.
In addition, a shortage of birds meant students had to take turns to practice. Students without their own bird were slow to improve because they only got about half as much training. The time limit imposed by their increasing body weight often meant that they’d have to give up on becoming a sky knight unless they advanced quickly.
Another thing I’d learned after entering the Knight Academy was that half of the students who mastered the skills necessary to gain a sky knight qualification wouldn’t actually have much to do with kingeagles afterward. It was easy enough to ride them regularly while studying at the academy, but after graduation, many wouldn’t get another opportunity for decades, making them sky knights in name only.
A family like mine had no reason to deny me a kingeagle. I’d been given one by Rook. His name was Stardust—Sham had chosen it.
Rook had hand-reared him from an egg, which was a rarity for him these days. Although Rook’s ranch continued to produce eagles as always, rearing and training birds was no longer his main occupation.
There were exceptions, of course. When I’d seen him a while back, he told me he planned to raise a new kingeagle because his was getting old. He’d soon be raising a bird from an egg once again.
Carol had entered the sky knight course and was turning out to be a skilled rider. Her eagle’s name was Mountain Haze; a name chosen by Her Majesty the Queen.
Mountain Haze was the bird we’d delivered during my very first visit to the royal capital, so I’d ridden her myself that day. She must’ve been pampered and spoiled rotten in the royal castle’s birdcage though, because she’d grown badly behaved since our last meeting. She now had a habit of pecking at the caretakers’ heads.
Naturally, she didn’t peck her rider, Carol, but even just one eagle in the birdcages with this bad habit meant that the caretakers all had to wear iron helmets. The bird’s sharp beak could easily draw blood, and might even leave a bald spot after the wound had healed.
The moment I stepped into the birdcage, Stardust noticed and hurried down to me.
“Kurrrrr.” Stardust made a low, purring sound to greet me. He came close and held out his beak.
“Good boy, Stardust.”
He made the same content sound when I touched his beak.
His eyes—black pupils set against yellow—narrowed with satisfaction. I continued to pet him for a while before picking up a saddle and leading him outside. Carol was waiting for us.
“Here you go. Some food.”
Eagles, much like dogs, grew friendly toward people who fed them.
Carol held a fish that resembled a cod just below Stardust’s beak. A kingeagle could swallow these whole. Stardust gripped the fish’s tail in his beak and tossed it up into the air. When it came back down, it disappeared into his wide-open mouth.
Their natural habitats were fjords on the far side of the mountains. Wild kingeagles still existed, and they mostly preyed upon land mammals such as deer. They had a unique way of hunting that involved swooping down and catching the prey in their talons, then carrying them up into the air before dropping them from high above. The birds would either feed on the carcass where it had landed on the ground, or they’d take it to their nest for their mate and chicks to feed on.
Kingeagles rarely attacked humans, but since they instinctively dropped their prey over open ground, deer would sometimes come crashing through the roofs of village homes near their habitats.
They also preyed on marine mammals, which meant they also consumed fish when they ate the mammal’s entrails. Although they didn’t hunt for fish specifically, they had no qualms about eating them, and saltwater fish here were generally free from parasites.
“Good boy.”
Rather than shrink away, Stardust presented his beak when Carol reached out her hand to pet him. She used her narrow fingers to stroke his beak and fine feathers.
“Keep feeding him. I’ll put his saddle on,” I said.
When I moved to put on the saddle, Stardust willingly folded up his legs and sat down on the ground.
What a good boy you are.
I threw the saddle over his back and then began securing the fasteners. Stardust was used to this process and didn’t protest. I finished securing the saddle while Carol continued to toss Stardust one fish after another. He gulped each one down greedily.
“Go on. Get on,” I said.
“What? Right here?”
It wasn’t normal to get on a bird right next to their cage. Normally, students took their bird over to a takeoff and landing area first for safety reasons.
“I want him to get used to you before he tries to fly. I’m sure he can walk just fine carrying your weight.”
Stardust regularly carried one child and one adult with a combined weight of close to eighty kilograms—quite a burden for a kingeagle—so Carol alone was nothing. He was rarely made to walk while carrying heavy loads. Although Carol was lighter, Stardust would still be wasting energy by carrying her over to the takeoff area. Still, it was worth it because it meant he was less likely to panic over the unfamiliar rider while midair.
“It’s an honor to have a royal princess on your back. You be good,” I whispered to Stardust too quietly for Carol to hear.
Stardust couldn’t understand me, but he gave me a “Kurrr, kurrr” in response regardless.
“Safety restraints, all secure.” Carol announced her safety checks out loud like a true honor student.
You’d think we were in class... But that’s fine, I guess.
I was just about to pull on the reins, but before I could, Stardust guessed what I wanted and stood up. He was such a well-trained bird. Rook had been thorough. I’d come to understand why his birds were so popular among sky knights.
I continued to lead with the reins until we reached the takeoff point.
The area was a flat piece of land that wasn’t as well-tended as the rest of the academy grounds. Although the trees and rocks had been cleared, there were still some weeds scattered about. An eagle didn’t necessarily need a runway, but an area like this was crucial for inexperienced riders because sometimes they’d fail to take off at all.
A rider could use the reins to instruct the kingeagle to take off and the bird would handle the rest. But some riders got so spooked when they began to ascend that they’d pull the reins tightly toward themselves, causing the bird to pitch back and forth before crashing.
In such cases, crashing into a piece of ground cushioned with thick grass was less likely to cause injury than crashing into a tree, a building, or other areas of the academy grounds that had been hardened under footfall.
I tossed the reins I’d been holding up to Carol, and she caught them in midair.
“He’s a good eagle,” I told her, “but he’s learned some bad habits from me. Watch yourself.”
“I know, I know.”
“Off you go.”
Carol tugged the reins close to herself, causing Stardust to lift his head. His wings sprung open and began to beat powerfully, causing him to ascend. He continued traveling forward and upward.
It hadn’t been long since Carol and I were given permission to fly without an instructor, and it had been even more recently that we were given permission to practice unsupervised. Myalo was also trying his hand at the sky knight course, but he hadn’t been given permission yet. He didn’t have a kingeagle of his own, so his progress was much slower.
