Two years ago.
Inside the long closed Hartwell Workshop, in Westwyn's Northern District.
Clink! Clink! Clink!
Steam hissed from the brass piping overhead as twenty-year-old Raveena Hartwell lay sprawled on the dusty floor beneath a half-assembled metal frame. One gloved hand held the wrench; the other wiped sweat from her brow with the back of her sleeve.
"This bolt… is making fun of me," she muttered under the machine.
The project above her looked scrappy, but it was promising. It was her own design for a second-gen steam-powered nebulizer. Compact, more stable airflow, easier valve control. Medical tools were always in demand, and if she could just get it working, she might actually win the innovation contest next week.
And with it? A prize purse large enough to cover two months' worth of zennies and maybe… repay her mother for once.
She rolled out from underneath the chassis and sat up, adjusting her goggles. She had tied her black and red hair back messily, and her ears and tail reeked of oil and sweat.
The prototype still needed tubing. New pressure-tested tubes that wouldn't melt after five minutes of heat compression. Which was the one thing she specifically sent someone to go outside and get.
Raveena let her wrench clatter to the worktable as she stood, stretching her sore arms as she mumbled under her breath, "Sable, you better not be off charming the store clerk for gossip again."
She turned toward the back door, half-expecting it to creak open with a panting mouse-folk girl entering with a triumphant "Found them!"
She waited a few seconds… but no such luck.
Raveena groaned softly and leaned forward against the edge of the bench. "She said that it'd be a quick trip. Tubes. Just tubes. How hard is it to find—"
"Where'd Merinn run off to?"
The familiar voice startled Raveena just enough to make her flinch.
She turned around to find her mother, Aldra Hartwell, leaning against the narrow doorway that led to the house proper. Her panther-folk ears flopped down in that very specific tired way they did when she was running on fumes, and her tail barely twitched behind her.
She was still in yesterday's clothes as well. Her slacks wrinkled, sleeves misaligned. Her crimson hair, usually tied back into a ponytail, was now half-undone, and the bags under her eyes?
…Worse than yesterday.
Raveena furrowed her brows. "Mom… did you pull another all-nighter?"
Her mother chuckled, then spoke with a voice raspy and worn. "Well kiddo, lecture plans don't write themselves, do they?"
Raveena opened her mouth to protest, then faltered. "…I mean. That's not wrong. But still. You could've let yourself get at least some proper sleep."
Aldra ignored the comment with grace, stepping into the cluttered heart of the workshop. She made her way to the side table where their prized treasure lived.
The copper coffee machine.
A vintage, clunky beauty with dials like airship controls. Second-hand. Broken when they bought it. It took Raveena three months to get it running again, mostly because she had no idea how coffee machines worked and had to teach herself from dusty manuals and ask very enthusiastic strangers in the old market.
By now, the pitcher held only a small amount left, as Raveena and her friend Sable had already wiped out three cups between them.
Aldra poured herself what remained and took a careful sip.
"Hhnn… stars, that's bitter," she sighed. "Got to catch the Southwyn train in about an hour. Figured this would help keep me upright."
"And you were just gonna run off again without sleeping?" Raveena asked with crossed arms.
Her mother shrugged, sitting down a stool nearby with a small grunt. "If I sleep for less than two hours, I get a headache anyway. So, I figured I'd just push through it."
"Mom, you know that's not a good—"
"Look who's talking. You've been out here since moonrise, fiddling with that little machine of yours."
"At least this fiddling might actually help us both," Raveena grumbled, brushing a strand of hair from her eyes. "Not that your lecturing job's bad or anything, but… it's still half a month 'til your next pay."
"Your point being?"
"The contest's in three days, and it has prize money. If I can get this thing working by then…"
"Hey, don't you have school later?" Aldra interrupted gently.
Raveena blinked, then looked toward the wall clock. "Yeah. In four hours."
"And Merinn's fine with suffering through that with you?"
Raveena shrugged. "Sable owes me for that nightmare we called our last project. She said helping me with this thing was 'the least she could do.' Plus, she got weirdly excited about fixing medical stuff. I didn't ask questions."
Aldra chuckled into her coffee. "And now back to my first question. Where'd she run off to, then?"
"Oh, the hardware store," Raveena replied, wiping one hand on a rag. "I sent her out to get new tubes. The pressure valve's too strong for the old set."
After hearing that, Aldra gave her a long, long look over the rim of her coffee mug.
Then spoke with the driest tone imaginable. "For someone so gifted with engineering… you somehow say the stupidest things. And you're my daughter."
"What? Why?"
Her mother simply nodded toward the wall clock. "Just because you're awake doesn't mean the rest of the world is. It's five in the morning, kitten. The hardware store doesn't open until eight."
Raveena turned to look at the clock again, and then she stared.
"…Shoot," she said to herself. "So what's taking Sable so—"
"You even consider that Merrin was too tired and just ran home to sleep? Hmm?" her mother then asked.
"No way that mouse would ever ditch me…" her voice trailed off as she realized something, while her mother simply kept her eyes on her daughter, albeit with a less tired and much more amused face now.
"…Actually… yeah, she would," Raveena said.
Because vanishing to nap halfway through a project? Sable can do that.
It wasn't malicious or anything, like it wasn't out of dislike for Raveena or the other animal-folk she worked with. It's just… her thing. She wasn't even an Arcane Tech student by nature. She just somehow got into the program through a very generous scholarship, and most of her usefulness came from running around, fetching tools, and occasionally making excellent coffee during late-night work or study sessions.
Raveena groaned, rubbing her face. "I'm gonna give her an earful for ditching me again."
Aldra laughed, sipping the last of her bitter coffee before standing up. "Give poor Merrin a break. She's doing her best just trying to keep up with the rest of you overachievers."
Raveena huffed and tugged off one of her gloves, tossing it onto the bench beside her.
"Whatever," she grumbled. "I've still got a few days left. I'll just grab the remaining parts myself later. Get this done. Test it. Fine-tune it. Finish in no time."
Aldra set her empty mug down by the coffee machine and stretched her arms overhead, groaning as her joints popped. "That's the spirit," she said, already turning toward the house.
Then she waved lazily over her shoulder as she shuffled through the doorway. "Well, good luck with all that, kitten. I'm rooting for you. And if you'll excuse me, I need a bath, and then a train to catch."
Raveena smiled faintly, already moving back toward her workbench. "Yeah. You too, Mom. Love you."
"Love you too," her mother answered back.
Once her mother's footsteps faded down the hall and disappeared behind the creaky bathroom door, Raveena let the silence settle for a moment before she turned back toward the machine.
The half-assembled nebulizer sat there, hissing softly from its last pressure test, bronze casing half-polished, wires and steam valves still waiting to be aligned.
Raveena approached it slowly. Then, she ran her fingers across its still warm and flawed surface.
"Don't worry, Mom… I'll pull my weight soon."
She pivoted toward her worktable, and her fingers found the sheet that had been pinned under a pencil and a half-drunk coffee cup.
It was her contest submission form.
Most of it was filled in. Model title. Category. Project overview. Design logic, and her signature.
But one box remained empty.
"Affiliation," which was just their way of asking: who's backing you?
Her eyes lingered on it for a moment as she revisited her initial thoughts.
She couldn't write Hartwell, that much was obvious as that name's influence was long gone. Not to mention, she didn't need that name anyway.
So, there's only one option. Which, if she made sure the nebulizer was flawless, like, unquestionably good, then the academy would have no reason to turn her away.
They'd vouch for her. Back her. Maybe not proudly, but at least officially.
Raveena nodded once, then smiled.
"Easy," she whispered.
And if there was anything that should be easy for Raveena…
It should be being good at her thing.
Right?