• Next Chapter

The next day, Arista found Nettle at her workshop, a small, carefully drawn sketch in hand, and set it down on the table without much preamble.

"...What do you think?"

Nettle studied it for a long moment, a small, simple fly, rendered with the same careful detail as everything Nettle's own merchandise line had once used for its Beelzebub-adjacent branding, but fitted with a tiny, unmistakable dwarven mining helm, lamp and all, perched neatly atop its head. And instead of the ordinary, translucent wings any real fly would have, six delicate, feathered wings spread from its back, small, iridescent, clearly modeled after Michael's own.

"...Is this the project emblem?" Nettle asked, delighted.

"I was thinking so, yeah," Arista said, a little sheepish. "Something that actually represents all three realms in one image, instead of just picking a neutral symbol that doesn't mean anything to anybody. Beelz's flies, Gorthruk's mining heritage, Michael's wings, all combined into one small, slightly ridiculous, genuinely affectionate design."

Nettle turned the sketch over, studying every careful detail. "...Do you think they'll like it?"

"That's what I'm asking you," Arista said. "You know Beelz's sense of humor about this stuff better than almost anyone, given the entire Baby Beelz plushie empire. Does this land as endearing, or does it read as making fun of him?"

Nettle considered the question seriously, tracing the fly's tiny mining helm with genuine appreciation. "...He bought his own keychain. He commissioned an accurate plushie of his own baby form. I think Beelzebub has made his feelings on affectionate teasing extremely clear, repeatedly, over all this time."

"And Gorthruk?"

"Gorthruk will probably pretend to be unbothered, then quietly mention it to every single dwarf who visits his forge for the next decade," Nettle said, grinning. "Same energy as the vault inspection. He acts stoic. He is, secretly, delighted every single time you actually think of the Republic."

Arista relaxed slightly. "...And Michael?"

"That one I genuinely don't know," Nettle admitted. "I haven't met him. But from what you've told me, six wings, countless eyes, existing since presumably the dawn of this world: I'd guess he's either going to find it charming in a way he doesn't often let himself express, or he's going to have absolutely no reference point for silly branding and simply not react at all."

"...That's not entirely reassuring."

"It's honest, though," Nettle said, handing the sketch back. "For what it's worth, I think it's genuinely lovely. It's not mocking any of them. It's combining them, a fly, a helm, and a set of wings, none of which cancel each other out, all of them just... existing together, the same way the actual roller coaster does."

The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

Arista studied her own sketch again, feeling a little more confident in it now. "...That's exactly what I wanted it to represent, honestly. Not one realm's symbol dominating the others. All three, combined, equally present."

"Then I think you've got your emblem," Nettle said, already sketching some rough merchandising ideas of her own in the margins, pins, patches, maybe a small flag to fly above the terminal entrance. "Want me to start production once you've got final approval from all three?"

"Please," Arista said, relieved. "Same as everything else, I'll bring it to them properly, ask before assuming, and if even one of them hates it, we'll workshop something else."

"They won't hate it," Nettle said, confident. "You've spent all this time proving to every single one of them that when you make something that references who they are, it's never once been unkind. I think they'll trust that pattern by now."

Arista smiled, tucking the sketch carefully away to bring before all three rulers in turn. "...I hope so. I really do like this one."

"Let me know once you've got their approval," Nettle said, already reaching for thread and a fresh scrap of sturdy fabric, entirely unwilling to wait for confirmation before at least starting on something. "I want to get a proper raised-embroidery badge going regardless, something with genuine texture and depth to it, not just a flat printed patch. A sketch only tells half the story, actual stitching shows how the details read once they've got real thickness and shadow to them. Worst case, I've wasted an afternoon on a design that needs revising."

"You don't have to start now."

"I want to." Nettle was already sketching the emblem's proportions directly onto the fabric, adjusting the scale, marking where the mining helm's tiny lamp would need the most careful stitching. "I like seeing a design through properly before I lose the shape of it in my own head."

Arista lingered, genuinely curious, and settled onto a nearby stool to actually watch instead of leaving the way she usually did once a request had been handed off. She realized, somewhat belatedly, that she'd never actually seen Nettle work on anything artistic in real time before, only ever the finished result, appearing days or weeks later, fully realized and polished.

Nettle worked slowly, meticulously, testing the mining helm's proportions against the fly's tiny body three separate times before committing to a final scale, discarding one attempt entirely when the lamp's angle looked, in her own words, "structurally correct but emotionally wrong."

Once she'd settled on the final proportions, she climbed properly onto her own workbench, sitting cross-legged in full tailor's fashion, three needles pinched carefully between her lips, and set to work with an absolute, unwavering precision that felt almost at odds with the casual, scruffy way she'd perched herself.

The contrast pulled a small, genuine smile out of Arista before she'd even realized it. "...Sometimes you remind me of a goblin, you know that?"

Nettle glanced up, needles still in her mouth, and grinned around them. "Coming from you, Straw, I'll take that as a compliment."

She turned back to the badge without missing a beat, needle already threading through the fabric again, precision fully restored the instant the joke had passed.

"...You take this seriously," Arista said, quietly delighted, watching her adjust the same small detail for the fourth time.

"Of course I take it seriously," Nettle said, not looking up. "It's going to represent three actual people. I'm not slapping something together and calling it close enough."

Arista watched a while longer, genuine warmth settling into her chest, seeing for the first time just how much care lived behind every one of Nettle's finished, effortless-looking creations.

If you find any errors (non-standard content, ads redirect, broken links, etc..), Please let us know so we can fix it as soon as possible.

Report

Use arrow keys (or A / D) to PREV/NEXT chapter