Sra reviews her schematics and flowchart, making sure everything lines up and is accounted for. She stands alone in her workshop, a suite of unfamiliar tools surrounding her, apparently meant to aid her efforts. She thinks.
Sra begins her labor, not sure where to begin or where to end. She forgetfully proceeds and is soon absorbed into her work.
Grains. The Orb would require thousands. Some would be composed of pure light, the other of immaculate glass. The border of the Orb is to be atomically smooth, each glass particle at the surface of the orb possessing the exact same distance from the center of the orb as every other Orb. Somebody has probably made such a thing in the past, but Sra is fumbling forward, blind, doing whatever she can on her own to achieve this apparent fantasy. Sra continues working, only pausing to cast her vast assortment of spells to renew herself in the face of her restless endeavor.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Some time later, Sra finds the time to take a visit to the Court of Cruel Suns.
The court of the Duchess of Cruel Suns appears to be a magnificent structure of white marble, polished to a high shine. The walls and pillars of the throne room channel hundreds of rays of sunlight to surround the throne, causing a nimbus as bright as the sun to surround the Duchess when she sits upon it. The Duchess is holding court today, allowing those of her subjects who believe they have a grievance to bring them forward. The line is short, as the Duchess has a habit of banishing - or executing - those who waste her time with trivial matters. Today, however, she is also providing time for the visiting craftspersons to address her; though none of her underlings have given any indication that her tolerance for trivial matters will be any higher for the crafters.
Sra makes sure her yellow dress is tasteful and appropriate for the setting. She'll have left her sword at home, though that doesn't really affect her combat ability barring Undead being about. Her Serene Tattoos shed light nicely around her, which she hopes the Fey will appreciate.She gets the attention of a nearby Fey outside of the proper court and, after apologizing for being a silly mortal tourist, asks if the court is Seelie or Unseelie, if applicable.
The fey laughs at the mortal. "Seelie, Unseelie... I think those are just words you use for how pretty you do - or don't - find us. Fey is fey."
"It is definitely a distinction that can be made, even if Fey don't observe it. I um...
...
What was I asking? I guess, while I have you here, is this court a good place to go on vacation? Or, uh, its surrounding realms?"
The fey laughs again. "Every place is a good place to go on vacation. Some of them might see you dead before long though.. or worse. The court of our lady is not a forgiving one."
Sra sighs.
"Alright, thank you."
Sra goes ahead and enters the queue.
The queue moves quickly. The Duchess is a decisive being, and does not ponder intangibles for lengthy periods. Within a short time, Sra has moved to the front of the audience chamber. The shining white marble makes everything bright and difficult to focus on finer details.
Sra is used to being swathed in light, so she has little difficulty in adjusting to the luminosity. She takes a breath and asks,
"You majesty. I ask if there is another craftsperson that seeks to shape a sun for you."
The Duchess arches an eyebrow. “You are asking whether anyone has tried to craft a sun for me? My person, the Duchess of the Cruel Suns? I assure you, none have been so presumptuous as to attempt to craft anything like a sun in my name.”
"The fixture can't go without a sun, it would need one to be complete. What do we know about what the, storms guy, what is he up to?"
The mention of the Duke of The Monsoons obviously disgruntles the Duchess. She sets back in her throne and steeples her fingers. “That fool has managed to lure enough folk to his banner that rumors are spreading over the masterwork he is creating. The gall of the man, to attempt to outshine his betters! He will find himself alone in the dark before long, with even the lights of the cruelest suns refusing to shine upon him!”
"Okay, that could be a thematic victory though. Like, if your piece is well lit, it would be suitable to be placed where it could be seen, but if his is enshrouded with clouds and dark, it would be better be hidden from sight? I only ask because I am not an artist."
” The Duchess leans forward and offers a cruel smile. “Oh, it will be more than a thematic victory. His pathetic attempt to best me shall be erased from the timeline, never to be referenced again.” Seemingly in a better mood for having dwelled upon the destruction of her enemy, she smiles at Sra. “Now tell me mortal, do you mean to say you have actually attempted to craft a sun for me?”
"... Yes, maybe. It is a perfect globe that sheds light. I do not have it with me, however, as it is quite unwieldy in size. The lack of direction with regards to where I may put things within the fixture you are making has me uncertain, but I imagine it would be held highly somewhere, lighting the piece."
The Duchess nods slowly. “Something too large to carry does indicate at least the potential for a worthy impression. If it is as wondrous as you indicate, we shall provide a fixture to shine it brightly upon our treasure. If it disappoints… you shall pray to whomever you worship that it does not disappoint.”
Sra almost licks her eye as she thinks to herself, though manages to catch and halt herself before the possible faux pas.
This is what I get for not letting Akkonaa handle the glassworking.
"That should be all then. But before I go, I want to ask a question of you. Later, when I deliver the globe."
The Duchess will wave her hand indicating acceptance of Sra's parting words. Sra is guided out of the throne room, and summarily "encouraged" to return to their workplace. However, there will be a fixture added to the structure supporting the Treasure Sink being crafted that will work very nicely to support Sra's globe.
Sra takes a deep breath. Maybe she's bitten off more than she can chew here. Maybe she should have let Akkonaa help her..
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Sra quietly enters into her palace upon her isle within the Immortal Ambulatory. She stands still within her partially open foyer for some time, before whining out loudly,
"Huuuuuuuuusband...!"
"Oh crimeny! What trouble did my wife get herself into now?"
Akkonaa is soon within the foyer as well, accompanied by Sra's clone, who wriggles her brow nefariously to imply that the non-clone Sra is a troublemaker.
"Husband, the fey lady that runs the Court of Cruel Suns is expecting me make a sun for her art thing..."
"Why does she think that...?"
"... I told her that I was thinking about making one... she is very menacing about it. She says I'd better live up to her expectations..."
"Blood and ashes. I need to keep a closer eye on you. I can make the sun—"
"I want to make it though..."
"Don't interrupt me!"
"Yeah, don't interrupt him."
"You hush. Sra wants to make the sun thing. By all means, go ahead. But if this Fey lady gives you a hard time—as you probably should have expected that she might considering the name of the company that she keeps—you will be on homekeeping duties for a month."
"... Yes husband."