“I think he wants to test out some theory of his, but he has not yet told me what it is about exactly. So for now I am just focusing on making a Graphein with this stone. Besides, my own curiosity has been piqued as well.”

I have to admit I am getting kind of intrigued too. I mean, is this stone truly incapable of directing any magic?

“How far along are you with the creation process?”

“Not that far. When you walked in I was just about to begin with the sculpting of the gemstone.”

Suddenly the twinkle in his eye starts to burn even brighter.

“Hey kid, what do you say… do you want to lend your old man a hand? It will be a good opportunity as well to see if your crafting skills have improved since the last time I saw you work.”

I can feel the corners of my mouth curl up to form my first genuine smile of today.

“Always,” I beam at him.

Ever since the invention of the so called Magical Technology most Grapheins are mass produced in huge factories owned by various corporations. However, my grandfather still makes them by hand which is a very intricate and time consuming process. I naturally developed an interest in this as well whilst watching him work as I was growing up.

When he gifted me with my first crafting tools on my tenth birthday I was over the moon with excitement. And I have to say that since then I have gotten pretty skilled at it. I mean, I am not near as good as him, but still better than most people I know.

But that, to be honest, doesn’t say much.

I mean, how many people nowadays even have time to spend on stuff like this when they are busy enough with other things like school, work, and having a social life.

But in my life that is all I have. Nothing but time, and time, and even more time.

However, even if people do have the time not many are interested in dedicating it to the making of items by hand anyways, because these days you can just buy everything you want for cheap in any regular shop down the street.

My grandmother often expresses that she has no clue why my grandfather decided to dedicate his life to something that has no future, that soon probably will fade away from this world.

He always gives her the same answer.

“Because it’s fun.”

This never fails to infuriate her even more. “That can’t be it!” she would reply. “That is far too simple. It just doesn’t make any sense.”

I don’t know what he exactly means either with ‘fun’, but I do know that in those moments, whenever I am creating something with my own hands, life seems to hurt just a little bit less.

I wonder, if I continue like this… will there come a day where I do will understand the meaning of my grandfather’s words?

Will I see what he sees?

I don’t know.

For now I will have to make do with moments like this, where my grandfather lets me borrow his eyes and, for a bit, I get to belong to his world.

For the next couple of hours, underneath the watchful eye of an astronomical clock, we keep working on the Graphein together, with still nothing but the candlelight of those two overhanging pendant lamps to guide us through the rest of the evening.

And with every tick of the clock I keep telling myself the same thing over and over again.

I am okay as long as those flames are burning.

I am okay.

I am okay.

I am