Ridge's Mineblr

As Zedaph descended the steps, the first thing he saw was a stream of confetti flying into the air. 

Only- it wasn’t confetti. As he got closer, the confetti resolved itself into wooden shavings, flying up from the corner of Keralis’ small workshop. 

Keralis had a place like this in every base he’d ever built- a tiny concrete room with some windows, a mini fridge, and sawdust everywhere. On his large workbench, a speaker was playing thudding Drum and Bass tunes wirelessly from the man’s comm- scarce heard amidst the screams of machinery. 

Though for the moment, the biggest toolroom loudmouths were silent. Keralis’ tablesaw and ancient bandsaw waited patiently, while the mitre saw on the workbench observed a vow of silence. The jointer and planer had no desire to incriminate themselves, and the shop vac kept mum. 

Instead, the loud screech of spinning metal and wood carving came from Keralis’ lathe. 

He was bent over the ancient contraption- a long benchlike shape of blue paint and cast iron. Spinning away at the business end of the machine was a round chunk of wood, and Keralis hummed and tapped his foot to the beat of the song. 

He was wearing a dust mask, and a face shield- with extra eyeglasses underneath. On noticing Zed, he immediately turned the lathe off, and paused the music. 

“Zee!” Keralis said, lifting his dusty face shield, “what brings you to my shop, hmmm?”

“Oh, nothing,” Zed said, “I’m bored. Tango’s busy, my latest Zedvancement needs a few days in the oven-literally- so I’m just killing time, mostly. What are you doing?”

“I’m making a box!” Keralis said brightly, his eyes shining, “want to watch?”

Zed grinned.

“Sure!”

Keralis gestured at the table. 

“Hoodie off. Dust mask and safety glasses, now. Or no shop for Zee!”

Zed grinned, and rushed over to the workbench to comply. Once he had his hoodie doffed and his PPE donned, he wandered back to the lathe. 

At that moment, Keralis had a big wheel of wood pinched between two metal parts. Zed tilted his head. 

“So what’s that?” Zed said, gesturing at the setup, “what are you doing currently?” 

Keralis beamed. From the slit in his back, a few tendrils everted and gave a happy little flick, before crawling back inside. 

“So,” he gestured, “right now, I am rounding my stock. If you look, it’s not running true. See?”

He dropped his face shield and turned the lathe on. The lathe trembled slightly, and as it spun, parts of the wood looked almost transparent. He turned it off once his demonstration was finished. 

“You’re cutting off the excess so it’s running perfectly circular!” Zed said eagerly, “I get it!”

“Yes,” Keralis beamed, “I have it- what’s called “between centres”. See?”

At the top of the lathe sat a large post where all the mechanical force was projected- below that, in a slim steel cabinet, the motor sat. The wood was pinched between that drive, or the headstock, and a separate hunk of metal that had slid along the tracks to pinch the wood between two points. 

“That’s the tailstock,” Keralis explained, as he gestured to it. He cranked a wheel on the back to extend the tailstock, pinching the wood even tighter. 

“And what wood is that?” Zed asked, and Keralis grinned. 

The wood had the colour of milky tea, a rich creamy tone with lovely striations from the tree’s rings. It didn’t have any visible pores, and Zed could see the play of the colours as Keralis spun the workpiece with his hand. 

“It’s a nice little hunk of maple,” He said with a grin, “And now, we make it round.” 

Keralis reached over to his tool pile, removing a long, spear-shaped tool. It had a huge square bar poking from a turned wooden handle, and the tip had a chunk of rounded metal screwed into it. 

“I use carbides a lot,” Keralis sounded a bit sheepish, “I know they are a bad habit, but sometimes, I’m tired, and I don’t want to struggle too much. You know?” 

Zed nodded, leaning against the workbench.

“Yeah, I get it. Sometimes it’s just easier.” 

“I have others, of course,” Keralis gestured to a bank of other tools hanging on the wall, “but I only use them sparingly. Sometimes I am tired, and I don’t want to fight with them.” 

Zedaph nodded his approval. 

“Well? Show me the magic, Keralis. I’m very interested to see how this all works.” 

His eyes shone with curiosity, and Keralis hit the switch. The lathe roared to life, and Keralis laid the tool on a horizontal rest with a clunk. He carefully pressed the cutting edge to the spinning wood, and ribbons of maple flew away from the wood. The piece rattled as Keralis made coarse cuts, the ancient lathe chattering as it did what it was built to do.  

Once the piece was rounded to his satisfaction, Keralis stopped the lathe and put down the tool, grabbing another- this one with a square tip. 

“Since I’m making a lidded box, we need to cut two tenons,” Keralis said, jabbing the cutter at the edge of the disc. He cut down a small section, smoothing it off, making progressive cuts in sequence until there was a little foot carved into the bottom of the box. He then pulled the tool away, repeating the process on the other side- the one closest to the headstock. 

Zed watched in rapt fascination as Keralis did this. 

“So you round it off, cut the feet, and then…?” He asked, and Keralis just smiled. 

He pulled the switch, and the lathe stopped. 

“Now, we change the headstock,” he said, using a hammer and a ramrod to pop the drive head out of the headstock. He handed it to Zedaph to admire as he placed the wooden piece aside, and screwed a chuck into the headstock. 

“And that’s…oh, I see!” Zed said eagerly, “It’s like a set of jaws, right? You tighten it, and it grips around the feet you cut! Right?” 

Keralis nodded, his eyes sparkling. 

“Yup. Here, I’ll show you…” 

He set the piece in the chuck, using the tailstock to centre it, and tightened it down with a pair of keys. 

Zed scratched his chin as Keralis turned the lathe on, carefully cut a groove with a thin tool, and then stepped forward. 

“What are you doing now?” 

“I’m cutting the lid off,” Keralis said with a grin, “You part it off with this tool, see? I might use a saw, though. This is a big piece of wood.” 

Zed nodded, and an idea wormed its way into his head as Keralis’ parting tool dove deeper into the wood. Piles of sawdust and smoke emerged from the cut, and he tilted his head and started rummaging around in his inventory. There. That thing. Why did he still have that thing? Oh well, not like it was a problem, per se.

“Keralis,” He said, “I had an idea.” 

“Hm?” Keralis pulled away from the lathe, stopping it to see what Zed was waving in his face. 

It was a long beaded bracelet that Zed had never gotten around to finishing- he’d made it with all of their faces woven into it. Keralis’ eyes lit up, and he took it. 

“Zee, this is gorgeous! Where’d you find this?” 

“Hmm? Oh, I made it,” Zed said proudly, “I taught myself to use a beading loom a few weeks back. I got bored of my forty-nine other hobbies and I figured there was room for at least seventeen more.”

Keralis nodded eagerly, reaching out with a tendril to grab another tool from his tool rack. This one had a flat head, and was a steel cutter- unlike the carbides he’d been using earlier.

“I was thinking,” Zed said, “We could- maybe- like, I could sew the ends together while you make the box, and…?” 

“We could put it on as a decoration?” Keralis’ eyes were shining, “Zee, I love it! Yes, let’s do that!” 

“Awesome. I’ll go get the glue,” Zed said, only for an ice-cold tendril tipped with a claw the size of his head to gently rest on his shoulder. 

“Sweetface, no. No glue. We don’t need glue for this. Watch!” 

Keralis turned the lathe on, and carefully cut a small groove with his new tool. He cut it to the width of the beaded band- stopping the lathe frequently to check the width. Then, again, stopping the lathe to wrap the band around to check the diameter. Cut, stop, check. Cut, stop, check. Slowly dialling his way down to the exact diameter to hold the band snugly. 

And once Keralis was happy with the fit, he handed Zed the band and gestured at the workbench. 

“There we go. We don’t need glue. I’ll show you the secret in a sec,” He said, “You tie that off, I’ll just get this lid off and hollow, yes?” 

Zed just nodded, pulling a needle and thread out of his inventory and sitting at the workbench to finish up the band. 

He watched as Keralis cut the top off the box with an ancient handsaw, setting it on the bed of the lathe. He pushed the tailstock out of the way, and then rotated his toolrest so it was covering the exposed front of the piece- the rough, raw maple. 

“Now for the tedious part,” Keralis said with a grin.

He turned the lathe on, grabbed a cup-shaped carbide cutter, and started boring into the depths of the wood. Each pass gouged out huge chunks of maple, and as Zed watched, Keralis slowly scooped out the guts of the box. 

True to his word, it took forever. Which gave Zed plenty of time to focus on his current task, of sewing up the ends of his beaded bracelet. He wasn’t sure what had possessed him to make a friendship bracelet with all their faces on it- especially since by the time he was done, the damn thing was long enough to count as a lanyard. He looped the thread a few more times, weaving it into the beaded ends and cutting the tail off with his teeth. 

When he looked up again, Keralis had the box hollowed, and was cutting an interesting feature. Zed wandered over to see him carve a little lip, inset from the edge of the hollowed area. 

“Oh, that’s where the lid attaches!” he said, eyes shining, “I get it.”

“Yup,” Keralis said, “And once I get this all sanded, then it’s time for the magic. Well…then it’s time to turn the lid, make sure it all fits, THEN time for the magic.” 

With that, Keralis turned on the lathe, grabbed a foam-backed piece of coarse sandpaper, and set to sanding. He sanded and sanded, working his way through progressively finer and finer grits, until the box was gleaming inside and out. 

“I like to take it down to 600 grit,” Keralis said fondly, “Makes it smooth under my fingers, you see?”

Zed reached out to touch, nodding approvingly at the smooth feel of the piece. 

“It really is,” he said approvingly, “now, what’s this magic you wanted to show me?”

“Patience,” Keralis said fondly, “patience, Zee. One more thing we need to do first, and that’s the lid.”

Keralis undid the chuck, and put the lid in using the tenon. He turned on the lathe, carving out the lid with a few deft strokes of the hollowing tool. He stopped periodically to check the fit by stopping the lathe and pressing the finished box against the lid. Finally it fit snugly, and with a touch of sandpaper, the fit was much looser. 

“Any reason you’re making it loose?” Zed asked, looking up from where he was sewing the loose threads into the band. 

“Because,” Keralis said, “Wood moves, yes? And since this wood is all one piece, it can bend and flex as the seasons change. And if I decide to base somewhere wet next season, the wood, she could…” 

He giggled. 

“My wood could swell up,” He said, waggling his eyebrows. 

Zed snorted, and let him work.

Once the lid was sized perfectly, Keralis pulled the lid off the lathe and brought it over to the workbench. 

“Now for the magic!” he said with a smile, and he tore a piece of shop towel off a roll and carefully sandwiched it between the lid and the box.

“...A paper towel?” Zed said, “That’s the magic?”

“It is!” Keralis said, “Because now, I can hold the lid in place in the tailstock, and the piece spins as one, see?” 

He put the piece back in the chuck, using the tailstock to pinch the lid in place, and used the new setup to carefully shave down the lid. Smooth it off, and shape the tenon into a handle to open the box with.

“Now what?” Zed said, wandering back over.

“Now? Now we sand, we finish, and we turn off the tenon on the bottom.” 

Zed nodded, and went back to his sewing. The lathe spun in the background, and he continued sewing, deciding to weave a band of thread around the edges of his beading. It looked rather pretty and added some strength, so Zed decided to keep going with that. It took a little while, and by the time he was done with the band, Keralis was walkind back to the workbench with a finished wooden box. 

“Oh, sorry! I must have missed the last few steps,” Zed said, and Keralis waved a hand. 

“They are boring anyway. Just some sanding, and some fun with a jam chuck. And by fun, I mean fun in the same way that PVP with False is fun. So, not fun at all, and actually very stressful.” 

He shrugged. 

“I’d ask what a jam chuck is, but I’ve decided I don’t want to know the answer,” Zed snorted, and he admired the piece. The lidded box was smooth to the touch, with a narrow handle set into the top and a flat base. The notch carved into the side looked a perfect fit for the band, and the whole thing shone brightly. 

“That’s gorgeous. Is it done?” Zed asked, and Keralis shook his head. 

“No. Two things left. Well…three. But I leave the third as a surprise.” Keralis grinned. 

He took the lid off, flipped the box upside-down, and grabbed a small orange box full of rattling metal, plus a tack hammer. Zed watched as he pulled out a few machinist’s stamps- little metal punches with letters and numbers carved into them. 

Keralis stamped the bottom of the box with a K, and then a 1.

“K1?” 

“Keralis1. For me!” He said, “I sign all my work.” 

Zed nodded approvingly. 

Once the tools were put away, Keralis took another shop towel off the roll, and withdrew an ancient tub of beeswax finish. He swabbed a bit from the bottom of the jar, and started carefully wiping it onto the wood. With each rub, the vibrant colour of the maple exploded out of the dull surface. The wood shone with life, the striations and the chatoyance leaping out of the maple. Keralis rubbed the wax finish in, eyes locked on the job, humming to himself as he worked. The shop smelled faintly of beeswax- a truly delicious smell. 

Finally, he placed the slightly-tacky piece on the workbench, and set about waxing the lid, too. 

Zed, curious, slipped his beaded band over the top of the box, and watched with amazement as it nestled snugly into the groove carved for it. 

A minute later, the lid was done too, and Keralis dropped that on top. 

The two men sat back to admire the piece, soaking in its colours and the pretty beadwork. 

“Wow,” Zed said, “That’s…wow.”

Keralis nodded. 

“And now we have it made. And that’s the fun part done. Now what do we do with it?” he chuckled, “I have too many wooden doodads, Zee. I need to find a use for them…”

“You could give them to me?” Zed said with a sly grin, “I’ll never say no.”

“Hmmm. Well, let me think about that. Yes, of course. I hope you brought a shulker.” Keralis said, eyes shining. 

Silence fell in the workshop, Zed still breathing through his dust mask, and a thought occured to him. 

“Keralis, you said there was a third thing. What was that? A third thing we had to do?”

“Well,” Keralis beamed, “I’m so glad you asked, Zee.” 

He gestured at the lathe. And at the giant pile of sawdust and wood shavings covering the bed, the headstock, the floor, the fatigue matting, the tools, and the wall. 

Wood and sawdust everywhere. All over everything. All over Keralis. All over his tablesaw. The mess was absolutely everywhere.

Then Keralis pointed at the shop vac. 

“Cleanup!” Keralis said, eyes shining, “And since I was your entertainment, I sink it’s only fair if you handle that, hmmm?” 

Zed groaned.