Early the next morning, William parted ways with Malora on the steps in front of the main tower. Shella and Minisa would accompany her on a tour of Harrenhal, while William headed to the West Tower to meet the Warlock and continue their unfinished conversation from the previous day.
Looking at the billowing black smoke from the steam engine and listening to the machine's roaring din, William felt not a shred of guilt about the environmental damage. His steps were light as he entered the West Tower.
The guards spotted and recognized him immediately. He instructed them not to alert anyone else and made his way upstairs towards the top floor, where the Warlock and his apprentice resided. Officially, they were there to maintain the steam engine; in reality, they were covering for the secret chamber.
As he walked and observed, William felt a slight disappointment. Compared to a few months ago, aside from repaired windows and walls, the West Tower hadn't changed much. Of course, he understood that given the productivity level of this world, the changes at Harrenhal were already considered astounding. Since Walder and the others didn't know war was imminent, feeling satisfied was a normal reaction. He quietly set a small goal for himself: to at least double the production scale before the war broke out.
The Warlock's apprentice, Mokken Rota, was sitting at the entrance to the top-floor corridor, intently reading a thick book. He also had pale skin and blue lips, though his face still showed some flesh, unlike his teacher, who resembled a skeleton covered in skin.
Seeing William reach the top floor, Mokken quickly put down his book, greeted him respectfully, and went to inform the Warlock. Once the two men were seated in the room, Mokken prepared to excuse himself.
"Stay a moment, Mokken," the Warlock called his apprentice back. "There's something I need to ask you."
William knew that aside from helping him research the runes in the secret chamber, the Warlock and his apprentice had considerable responsibilities at Harrenhal. They not only maintained the steam engine but, due to their knowledge of Valyrian, often acted as translators, assisted in managing workers from Essos, and dealt with merchants from across the narrow sea.
He was curious. The matter he and the Warlock were about to discuss involved machinery. Could Mokken have insights into this as well?
The Warlock saw William's puzzlement. "Mokken often helps out in the textile workshop, so he's quite familiar with Maester Mollos's apprentices. There's one apprentice named Ravender who might be of help regarding the matter that concerns you, Ser."
Mokken's eyes shifted thoughtfully, and he sat down next to the Warlock. He then began to share some details about this Ravender.
Ravender was the son of a farmer from the Crownlands. He had been an apprentice for many years, but his academic aptitude was somewhat lacking. After four years, he had only managed to earn a single chain link, the white steel of metallurgy.
When Maester Mollos needed to bring apprentices to Harrenhal to build the hydraulic workshops, most were unwilling to leave the Citadel with him. Ravender heard that by going for just a year or two, it would be easy to obtain the black iron link representing mechanics. So, along with a few other underachievers eager to get their links, he came to Harrenhal.
Once there, he discovered his talent for machinery. He quickly became one of Maester Mollos's key assistants, sharing much of the repair workload, and had recently earned his black iron link. Unlike other apprentices who constantly thought about returning to the Citadel after earning their links, this particular apprentice had expressed a desire not to go back.
Here, Mokken hesitated slightly before continuing, "He feels that even if he returns to the Citadel, it will be difficult for him to earn more links and advance to become an acolyte, let alone a maester."
The Warlock looked at William, the corner of his mouth twitching into his unique smile. "Ser, what do you think? Is he the person you need?"
Noticing the expectant look in Mokken's eyes as he watched him, and realizing that Mokken seemed quite familiar with Ravender, William understood that the two must be on good terms. He smiled genially and said, "I am very interested in this Ravender. Mokken, would you please ask him to come here? I'd like to speak with him face-to-face."
"At once, Ser!"
Although Mokken tried to contain himself, he couldn't hide his excitement. Almost as soon as he left the room, the sound of running footsteps echoed from the corridor.
William and the Warlock couldn't help but laugh. The Warlock seemed somewhat emotional. "In Westeros, there aren't many willing to befriend a Warlock."
"Don't worry, Glop. Isn't this a good start?" William replied.
While waiting, William and the Warlock discussed the steam engine. The Warlock first reported on its operation and maintenance, then brought out some blueprints. They were improvement plans for the current steam engine. William examined them carefully and immediately decided that the second steam engine would be built according to this new design.
Next, the Warlock produced another set of blueprints. Surprisingly, it was for a modified steam engine that used runes as an energy source, which made William exclaim in admiration. The Warlock regretfully stated that in this current age of diminished magic, without magical power, this design was likely just a castle in the air, impossible to realize. William, however, merely smiled without speaking. *Come next year, when the stars bleed and the dragon eggs hatch, mystical forces will revive. By then, this design will naturally find its purpose.*
After finishing their discussion on the steam engine and just as they began to talk about magic, Mokken entered with a tall, thin young man. The young man's grey robe had faint stains, his short hair sat on his head like a cap, and his eyebrows were thick and heavy.
"Ser William, Master Glop, good morning," Ravender greeted them, his demeanor simple but not dull.
'This is a practical, hardworking person.'
William's first impression of him was favorable. He stood up to welcome him and warmly invited him to sit down.
"Speaking of which, I arrived at the Citadel a year before you did. You could say you're my junior, Ravender."
It was probably the first time Ravender had heard the term 'junior' used this way, but he understood that William was showing him goodwill and seemed somewhat flattered. "Yes, Ser."
Seeing he was a bit nervous, William started with a lighter topic. "I heard you're from the Crownlands?"
"Yes, my home is in Sow's Horn, near the border of the Crownlands. It's quite close to Harrenhal as well."
"What a coincidence! I passed by there just a few days ago and met Ser Roger Hogg. He was most hospitable."
"Lord Roger is a good man."
This wasn't entirely flattery. The Crownlands had fertile soil and abundant resources. Lords could have sufficient income even with lower tax rates, and consequently, the lives of the smallfolk were somewhat easier.
After learning a bit more about his family situation, William couldn't help but ask, "It seems your family is fairly well-off. Why did you go to the Citadel to become an apprentice?"
Apprentices couldn't marry or have children, and they couldn't leave as they pleased, somewhat similar to the Night's Watch. Generally, unless a family was in dire straits, no one would send their child to become an apprentice.
"I didn't want to be a farmer like my father for my whole life."
Ravender's answer surprised William. He hadn't expected this seemingly straightforward young man to also have aspirations beyond his station.
William expressed genuine appreciation for this. "Very good. A person should have dreams."
However, when the conversation turned to the Citadel, Ravender became somewhat reticent. So, William shifted the topic to the hydraulic workshops and machinery. The previously somewhat reserved Ravender opened up. Not only did he answer fluently, but he also became confident when discussing technical matters.
After their conversation, William confirmed that Ravender was precisely the talent he urgently needed: proficient in mechanics and unwilling to return to the Citadel! Best of all, in the eyes of the Citadel, Ravender was just an insignificant underachiever; poaching him wouldn't attract much attention.
William tentatively asked, "I heard you wish to stay at Harrenhal. Why don't you want to return to the Citadel?"
Ravender's eyes flickered momentarily. When his gaze swept past Mokken, he saw Mokken give a slight nod.
He clenched his hands tightly, his voice trembling slightly. "Yes, Ser. I spent four years at the Citadel. I know very well that with my talent, if I stay there, I'd probably be stuck running errands and doing odd jobs for life. But here at Harrenhal, working with these machines, I can feel my own value and the meaning of my life."
"Excellent, Ravender," William said, a bright smile spreading across his face. "House Whent welcomes you."
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