The captain gently halted the ship along the bank and ordered the anchor dropped. A few moans and groans echoed across the ship followed by the heavy metallic clinking of a chain toppling through the air.
With a splash, the metal sank and the ramp was extended to the sand below. The architect stood on the beach, his candle still flickering in the moonlight. The crew began gathering the food and assorted supplies, hauling them to the ramp for delivery.
The captain descended first and greeted the architect with a respectable murmur. The man smiled softly, his cheeks pushing his dark glasses up slightly.
"It's always a pleasure, Barthalemeu. I trust you gathered all of the items I requested?" He asked, fiddling with the buttons of his overcoat.
Again, Barthalemeu murmured and moaned.
"Bring them to me. I'd like to see them," he insisted, tapping his cane softly in the dirt. The crew halted swiftly, dropped the parcels they'd been carrying and proceeded down to the lowest deck. All of the babies laid, quietly snoring in their mystical swaddles.
Slowly each bed hovered, bobbing slightly. Row by row in single file order, the babies were hauled above deck and down the ramp. The beach was almost fully covered by them as the architect stood in the center of them.
He extended a hand and grazed the side of one of the beds. The wood was rough below his fingers, and the straw poked the palm of his hand as he slowly felt around. When he found the blanket, he knew he was about to lay hands on the first subject.
Then, he felt it. A small round head almost completely void of hair, and soft to the touch. Two plump squishy cheeks and a tiny button nose. A smile crept along his shadow-covered face, and he retrieved his hand.
"Bring them inside. The ceremony will begin soon," the architect insisted, signaling the phantom crew to follow him.
The inside of the tower revealed more space than the outside let on. The entry way led the crew into a vacant opening, that would be an entryway. A large fireplace crackled in the background as the babies slowly trickled in. On either side of the chamber there were spiral stairways. One led up while the other led down.
The layout of the tower seemed more interesting from the inside. If someone stood in the center of the room and looked straight up, he'd see almost every level to the top. The stairs that led upward led the crew and the children to a library filled with ancient texts, scrolls, and manuscripts.
A wonderfully magical room unto itself. The books were observed studying themselves and taking detailed notes on their content. Feather quills made from the raven feathers scribbled along tables as the crew continued up another level.
The next level seemed to be a lab of sorts. Beakers and viles were spread across various work stations and crude chalk notes scribbled on a black board. The lab seemed to be running itself. On one table near the back of the lab, sat an Intricate resource transfer system. In a large vile were thousands of tiny fragments and shards. The remnants of the vail stones.
There was an odd solvent at the bottom that seemed to dilute the stones. Once diluted they were carried through a pipeline to a burner where the diluted serum was simmered. It would then slow drip into the cooling vat where it seemed to sit for an extra long time.
After cooling it would follow another rail of hoses, and fill a large bottle at the end of the table. A thick glimmering red ooze swirling in the pot like an ominous potion. The architect took interest, for a moment, and lifted the bottle slightly to feel its fill rate.
Content, he corked the bottle, secured it to his hip, and replaced it with an identical, empty vessel. Upstairs one more landing, they had finally reached what looked like a dormitory. A large entrance hall, decorated in painted portraits, antiquities, and odd finds.
Around the cylindrical walls, were three arched wooden doors facing the center of the room.
"This will do," the architect said, halting the phantom crew. With a wave of his hand, and a rapid sketch of a rune along the air, the lanterns burst with light and the doors all slowly revealed a symbol. Each door held a silver crest each with a different symbol. The door to the left held a falcon's crest.
The center most door bore a raven that glimmered ominously in the light. The door to the right was stamped with a wren, sitting atop a barren branch. Each sigil hummed a soft tune, like different sized tuning forks being struck simultaneously.
All of the babies piled into the entryway and the architect grazed their faces with curious fingers.
"That will be all gentlemen. It's been a pleasure," the architect stated, smiling softly and pulling a leather sack from his overcoat. He shook it slightly with an aggressive jingle, and tossed it toward one of the ghostly grunts.
The translucent pirate grumbled his thanks and led the others from the tower. Once the large door sealed with a crash below, the architect pulled a stone from his breast pocket. A palm-sized circular blue gem stone with a golden crusted edge. He fondled it and bounced it around in his hand before leaving it flat in his palm.
His eyes sealed forcefully again as he focused heavily on his perception. Sweat beaded on his brow and his jaw clenched as the stone softly jostled in his hand. A gust of air burst from the gem, flapping his overcoat sporadically as it glowed a bright blinding blue over the room.
The light of the flickering flames were overpowered for a moment making the room somehow seem dark in the gem's powerful glow. The architect fell to his knees softly and panted heavily as the stones glow retreated. He sat for a moment, panting his exhausted breath with a minor wheeze.
Quickly he fumbled in another large pocket and retrieved a bundle of smaller, blaze red stones. He clenched his fist around them tightly. A sound like crunching glass trickled from his palm as blood began to leak down his forearm. Again he focused, this time on his pain. A burst of red light popped in his hand like a small fireball before extinguishing.
The architect's body surged and pulsed with red energy. His muscles tensed and for a brief but important moment, he could see again. He stood swiftly, holding his hands out in front of him.
"Glad to know I don't look as old as I feel," he whispered to himself with a bitter chuckle. Then, like a vignette closing in on a photo, his vision faded. Then for a moment a soft cooing rang out from behind him. He turned around and again, one of the babies cooed this time, right at his feet.
The Architect knelt in front of the toddler. He grazed his finger tips along the boys chest, stomach, and face before rustling his hair.
"A tad ahead of your brothers aren't you little one?" He chuckled, as the boy slobbered and gummed the side of his finger.
"What do you say you go first," the Architect paused for a moment in deep thought.
"Aldric, seems an appropriate name," he finished, patting the boy on the head. He then raised the blue gem to the boys nose. Aldric gazed at it, a stream of drool leaking from his bottom lip. Then, the boy grabbed it firm in his tiny hand. The large gem rumbled softly, startling the boy who nearly dropped it.
The architect felt a warmth graze his face, and he didn't need to see to know the outcome. The stone glowed vividly before again, fading back to its dull state. Then with a masterful echo, the ravens head cawed shaking the temple.
"The aviary has decided. Aldric, the raven," he smiled, gripping the boys hand in his and leading him to the door with the raven on it. He ushered the boy inside, smiled at him once more and shut the door.
"Only one hundred and ninety nine to go," he muttered, hearing the other boys begin to wake as well.