~
Akio was in a daze. His heart was hammering and he felt suddenly light-headed. He looked for his father in the crowd, but couldn’t see him. Norio had always been good to him, and made many sacrifices for him, including paying for his tools and his admission to the guild, even at the expense of his own career. Akio couldn’t blame him for staying away.
Part of Akio was aware enough to notice Builder Kazuki, Rika’s father; Michio Saga, the High Builder; and a handsome young man that must be Prince Masaki moving from one apprentice to the next. Each time they reached a new apprentice, the youth would nervously remove his cloth to reveal the arch he had made. Meanwhile the townsfolk looked on and the men made comments to each other about one feature or another while the women discussed the marriage prospects of the young man in question.
Some of the arches were tall and thin, and the crowd made sounds of appreciation when they saw how the runes enabled such a thin support to hold such a tall and graceful structure. Others were wide and sturdy, with indomitable strength build into every crevice, and runes chiseled into the surface that, when drawn over with essence, would make the arch last for a thousand years.
Then suddenly the three were standing next to Akio.
Builder Kazuki frowned when he saw who it was. “Apprentice Akio, please meet High Builder Michio Saga.”
Akio mumbled something.
“And Prince Masaki Rolan.”
Akio stuttered as he tried to speak a formal greeting. Prince Masaki smoothly interjected.
“It is a pleasure, Apprentice Akio. What do you have for us today?”
Akio looked stupidly from one man to the other, and then realized that this was his cue to reveal his work.
Akio stepped back, pulled on the cloth, and in one great sweep it was revealed.
It wasn’t an arch. There were no runes on it at all. There were no principles of strength, or compression, or lightness, or resistance to the elements, utilized to create this work.
Akio had made a statue.
The statue was of a woman, a young girl really, and was breathtaking in its detail. She had been carved out of a single block of marble, a large as life, in a pose that was both innocent and sensual. The essence of her being had been caught in the stone, her expression thoughtful and playful, endearing and sweet. She looked into the distance, smiling, as if seeing an old friend approaching. One of her hands was raised in welcome. The folds of her dress fell around her shoulders, her breasts, and her hips. She was beautiful.
At the foot of the statue, on its base, Akio had made his mark: a stylized version of his initials. He had been so proud when he'd finished, and remembering his father’s words, he had made this one final touch. A statue had no blocks, no inner surfaces to hide the mark away, so there was no other place for his mark. It made sense at the time, yet now, it just looked impudent.
He knew it was good. Surely they could see it?
But it wasn’t an arch. In his frustration, he hadn’t used the oracle once. Akio hadn’t made any calculations, or inscribed any runes. He looked anxiously from one man to the next, and immediately he knew he had done a foolish thing.
Builder Kazuki was stunned, his mouth agape, and looked to the High Builder to take the lead. Prince Masaki had a strange expression on his face, contemplative and pondering.
High Builder Michio was the first to speak. “This is no work of lore,” he said, looking at the statue. His gaze turned to Akio. “You are no builder.”
Kazuki looked from one man to another. “We cannot even waste our time pretending to judge this.” He frowned. “The entry is invalid.”
Akio’s spirits fell at Rika's father's words.
Prince Masaki tore his eyes away from the statue, appearing to require an effort to do so. He directed his attention to Akio. “She is beautiful. Tell me, Apprentice, who is she?”
Kazuki answered, scowling. “She is my daughter, Rika.”
“Bring her to me.” The prince looked up at the statue again. “Please.”
Soon Rika’s mother emerged from the crowd, Rika in tow, and she brought her daughter over. Shy and uncertain, Rika put her hand over her heart and dipped her head.
Prince Masaki looked from the statue, to Rika, and then back again. He shook his head in admiration. “Your daughter is beautiful,” he said to Kazuki.
“I… I’m honoured you think so,” Kazuki stammered.
Rika’s mother scowled at her husband, picking up the cue. “Perhaps you might like to dine with my family tonight, Prince Masaki?”
“It would be my pleasure.”
Rika’s mother bowed, and after a glare from her mother, Rika bowed again.
Akio looked on in horror. He had never expected this. Prince Masaki was giving suit to Rika!
“You have a remarkable talent,” Prince Masaki was talking to him. “Akio, is it not?”
“He is no builder.” The High Builder said again, scowling.