Norio took Akio by the arm, leading him to the remains of the arch.
“Why do you think each apprentice is required to build an arch? What’s so special about an arch that the High Builder thinks it’s the best way to test your skills?”
Akio sighed. “I know, Father.”
“Tell me again.”
“Stone handles compression stresses but not tensile stresses. An arch provides a structure that eliminates tensile stresses while spanning an open space.”
“What else?” Norio demanded.
“An arch can be constructed in many different ways. It can be made tall or strong, span a wide space or a narrow one. The apprentice has a chance to demonstrate his skill.”
Norio picked up one of the smaller stone blocks. He turned it over in his hands to display the carved petals of a flower. “Tell me, Akio," Norio said, holding up the stone. "Where does it say that a good arch is one that was decorated with beautiful designs on the stones? They are pleasing to the eye, yes, but remember: You are building an arch. Not decorating one.”
“Yes, Father.”
“Building isn’t just about beauty. It’s about function, and form, and stresses, and forces.”
“Mathematics,” Akio scowled.
“Yes, my son. Mathematics. And lore. Your designs are pretty to look at, but where are the runes? The runes are there to help you – so use them! The runes make the stones stronger, or lighter, or resistant to heat, or bond better to the other stones. The runes, like the arch, are practical things.”
Akio finally raised his chin. “That’s not true. Not every structure is practical. What about the Long Bridge in Sarostar? Or the Terra Cathedral in Ralanast? In Torakon itself, in our capital Sakurai, what of the Pillars of Minoru, the Cathedral of the Sky, and the Akita Theatre? Even the earth temple in our village is a work of beauty.” Akio paused to take a breath.
“Akio, Akio,” Norio shook his head. “Yes,” he agreed, “they are beautiful structures. But,” he glared at his son, “first they were made to stand. Only after you have given your work both form and function, then can you make your mark in tiny letters on a block of stone that no one will ever see, but that you will know is there.” Akio’s father looked into the distance. “My mark is hidden in the walls of the house you live in, and the stones of the new spire on the village temple. One day you too will make your mark.” He gripped Akio's shoulders. “Persevere, my son. Persevere.”
~
Akio was on his way from the village workshop back to the quarry when he saw her. Rika. He murmured her name, feeling pleasure in the way it sounded on his lips.
She wore a lilac tunic, belted around the waist. It was the same style as the other village girls wore, but because her father was guild master and one of the most important men in the village, she wore a golden ribbon in her hair and the belt she wore was of yellow silk from Altura. Her hair was dark and long, with curls at the end past her neck. Curved eyebrows framed soft brown eyes, and her nose was regal, long enough to give her face character. At first, Akio had thought she was haughty, but then when they’d become friends he realized she was lonely, and for some reason he could make her laugh. She hadn’t yet seen him and Akio felt his heart ache. She was so beautiful. How could he ever hope to win her?
“Rika!” Akio called. He crossed to her side of the road.
Rika looked around. “Akio,” she took a step back, “you can’t be here! Someone will see us and tell my father.”
“Please, Rika. I just wanted to talk to you.”
“I mean it. You must go. But tell me, quickly, how is your work going?”
“It goes well,” Akio said. He looked at Rika's sympathetic eyes and sighed. “Actually, it isn’t going very well at all. My father’s frustrated. I know what I want to do. I want to make works of beauty. But the logic of it, the equations and the calculations… they sometimes escape me.”
“You’re too modest,” Rika said. “I’ve seen your work. It’s beautiful. You’re too hard on yourself.”
Akio shook his head. “You’ve only seen my carvings. You’ve never seen me build.”
“Have you heard the news? Prince Masaki’s coming to the examinations. To our village! Don’t worry, when my father sees how good you are, with Prince Masaki looking on, he won’t be able to refuse your license.”
Akio wished he shared her confidence. He didn’t know what to say next, so he simply stood, looking at Rika, memorizing her features: every strand of her hair and line of her chin, every curve of her lips.
“I need to go now,” Rika said. She glanced around, and then gave Akio a swift kiss on the cheek. “Good luck.”
~
“No, Akio. That’s wrong! Didn’t you hear what I said? Use your oracle. The artificers don’t sell those gadgets cheap, you know.”