hazilnut
Junior Member
Eager for our new journey
Posts: 52
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Post by hazilnut on Nov 7, 2019 18:31:33 GMT -8
07 - Festival Fallout “Keiran has trained tirelessly to become a provider for Mekhanikos,” recited Princeps to the villagers, who had gathered under the crisp autumn moon for the celebration. At the head of the food-laden table Keiran glowed brilliantly at eir mentor sitting right beside, who in turn squeezed one of eir stones. “Today we honor eir passion and dedication which, along with the expert tutelage of Cultor, have propelled Keiran’s growth into a farmer, and golem, ei should be proud of.” As Princeps slid their notecards into the breast pocket of the suit jacket they wore for the occasion, the table broke into uproarious applause.
“Go Keiran!” cheered Aoife, arguably loudest of all. Amicus, who sat next to fem, echoed with an ear-splitting screech. A cascade of good-natured laughter quickly filled the subsequent pregnant pause. There would be no silence tonight.
“Now lets enjoy the bounty Keiran has given us- let’s eat!”
After all had eaten their fill, or more than it, the table was cleared away to make room for dancing. Tonus whipped out their bow and began to saw out a lively tune that moved stone, metal, and flesh alike as well as any magic could. Caught up in the moonlit euphoria, Custos clapped their hands and warbled wordlessly to the melody. Lumina appeared to be performing some kind of complex acrobatics in time with the young apprentice’s clapping, causing them to beam all the brighter. Ackerley’s movements couldn’t be called graceful but they compensated with such enthusiasm that Keiran had to laugh and attempt to follow suit.
Off to the side of the dance floor, Aoife was swaying gently to music. They wondered idly why the tune Custos harmonized sounded so familiar, but brushed the thought away when Amicus broke away from dancing with Ackerley and Amicus to approach fem.
“Good party, huh?” Aoife greeted Amicus with a forced-neutral tone. The rapid thudding of feir heart, or the golem approximation of it anyways, could only be attributed to the driving beat of the music to a certain extent. Fa only hoped feir emotions weren’t blindingly obvious on feir horns.
“///yes///“ replied Amicus, just as passively. For a moment the pair just stood there together, watching Keiran and Cultor wriggle out of time with the beat and Lumina challenging Ackerley to a limbo contest which the mechanic lost pitifully. Then, in a whirr of clockwork, Amicus extended a segmented hand to Aoife. “Will yuuu dance with meee?”
Aoife felt feir horns glow so brightly fa would have sworn they outshone the harvest moon. “I-I’d love to!” Still glowing like an idiot fa put a stone in Amicus’s palm and let femselves be pulled onto the dance floor.
Cultor’s knee joints had begun to ache from the strain of unfamiliar movement, and so they had gracefully excused themselves from the dance floor and gone over to sit by Princeps. “Looks like the party’s gone off without a hitch,” Cultor greeted the head chief warmly as they sank onto the bench, letting out a sigh of relief at finally being off their feet. “You should be proud.”
“Oh I am,” replied Princeps sincerely. They took a slow drink of cider as they watched Cultor’s eyes light up. “Don’t think me foolish- I do good work and I know it. If I was not proud, I would not be satisfied I had held myself to a high enough standard.”
Cultor let out a loud laugh and pushed the brim of their sun hat out of their face. “Self-confidence is a good look. Can’t say I don’t have my fair share of pride myself.”
“As well you should. Keiran’s success can be much attributed to you.”
Again Cultor laughed, this time a softer buzzing chuckle. They gazed out across the dance floor where Keiran had stopped line dancing with Custos and Lumina to giggle and gesture at Aoife and Amicus who had fallen into some form of slow dance. For a moment their eyes caught on the hunched form of Quaide scowling at the ground; even the shadows of newly-bare trees couldn’t disguise the bitterness of keir expression. Cultor turned back to look at Princeps, what Quaide was dealing with wasn’t really their business. “Em’s an especially bright kid- I really didn’t do all that much.”
“Is modesty now the fashion?” asked Princeps archly, arms folded easily over their chest.
“Even great minds like we need occasional humbling. Say- do you dance?”
Princeps thought back to the Festival of the Perceived Self earlier in the year, and then back to the number of festivities they had organized before that. They couldn’t remember ever doing more than swaying to the music during the rare occasion dancing was arranged. “I haven’t yet and don’t plan on breaking that record.” A sinking feeling filled Princep’s chest cavity as Cultor’s eyes lit up dangerously.
“Perfect.” Cultor extended a hand. “Come and get humble with me.”
“What?”
“Oh come on dear Prince, let loose a little.” Before Princeps could come up with any proper excuses Cultor was already dragging them onto the the dance floor and into a modified samba.
In the shadow of an ancient proud oak, now barren and exposed to the harsh moonlight, Quaide forsook the festivities. Kai were tired, oh so very tired, but kai couldn’t find it in kemselves to pull away from the scene.
“Frustrating, isn’t it.” Quaide startled as Genaine emerged from the forest behind. It was incredible how easily the golem blended into the night, even one as moonlit as this, only becoming more than a splash of softly glowing red against a dark background when ai made aimselves heard. “To be unable to pretend that everything is fine; that nothing has changed. Especially when the evidence is your own child.”
“Go away, Genaine,” Quaide rumbled, eyes still locked on the dance floor. “I don’t want your poison.”
Genaine, undeterred, slipped around in front of Quaide so that kai were forced to look at aim. “I was too harsh last time. You were stupid, but I cannot afford to loose my only ally.”
“Well you’re off to a wonderful start this time around.”
“Sarcasm is unbecoming,” growled Genaine. Air horns, a matte red for the prior part of the conversation, suddenly flashed dark crimson and Quaide found kemselves afraid of Genaine’s raw anger. “For once in your life listen.”
“Genaine-“
The glow of the golem’s antlers slowly dulled as Genaine regained control of aimselves. The cold fury that laced air subsequent rumbling was no less terrifying though. “I’m about to say something big, Quaide, something important- especially to you and Aoife. I suggest you heed my revelation and start worrying less about internal breaches of culture when we face an external threat to our existence.” And with that Genaine slipped away as silently as the past.
“I have something I wish to say,” rumbled Genaine, standing atop the oaken table. The cacophony interrupted the circle dance the majority of the population had been partaking in and Aoife glanced up at aim, intrigued, and then back around at everyone else to gauge what was going on. Tonus had stopped playing, reluctantly. While Ackerley and Cultor exchanged confused glances, Amicus and Lumina’s face plates were characteristically unreadable. At some point Quaide had sidled up besides Aoife. Upon noticing this fa shuffled pointedly away. Princeps looked on disapprovingly at the golem’s choice of podium but motioned for aim to speak. “Thank you for your permission. Custos, Ackerley- would you help me with a demonstration?”
Custos practically bounced onto the table, buoyed by a cheerful “Good luck!” from Keiran. Ackerley clambered up with less grace but their smile was easy and bright. The momentary tightness in Aoife’s chest relaxed at the sight of the pair of them beaming; Genaine mending bridges was a good thing.
“What kind of demonstration are we doing?” Ackerley laughed. “I’ll warn you I didn’t prepare anything.”
“Were we supposed to come up with something beforehand? I mean I can show off what Amicus’s been teaching me I guess?” Custos’s clumsy punches and kicks grew more confident and centered as the crowd began to cheer, Tonus improvising a quick ditty to underscore the apprentice's performance. Giggling, Custos gave a bow.
Having shifted away from feir composer to Amicus’s side, Aoife gave feir friend a quick shoulder bump. “You’ve done well with them,” fa whispered around vines.
Before Amicus’s face plate could display any response, a crash from Genaine brought all attention back to aim. “I notice that you've been singing all night tonight, Custos. A lovely voice, and lovely wings-” Genaine made the ‘turn around’ motion with a fist-like stone and Custos happily obliged, ruffling their feathers for good measure. “Ackerley must have worked hard on you.”
“Thanks, I think,” chirped Custos. Ackerley, too, looked pleased at the compliment- chest puffed out slightly despite running both hands through their hair.
But something felt wrong. Turning around, Aoife noticed Quaide staring past fem with rabbit-wide eyes. Well, business as usual then, but when fa turned back to watch the demonstration a sinking feeling lingered in feir gut. Fa tried to tune it out by focusing on Ackerley’s chatter on the finer parts of Custos’s inner mechanisms. “Each feather is actually composed of three seperate parts, well, four for the flight-”
“Fascinating,” interrupted Genaine roughly, “but what makes Custos go?”
“Pardon?”
“What powers it?”
The warning bells blaring in Aoife’s mind drowned out Ackerley’s hesitant rundown of “revolutionary power cores” and “highly advanced wiring”. Fa glanced frantically at Amicus, whose attention was focused solely on Genaine’s stock-still form, their fists the only thing betraying the tension in their metal body.
“Lies!” Aoife’s attention snapped back to Genaine, who had drawn aimselves up to air full height to tower over Ackerly and Custos. “This creature runs on stolen power and I will return it!” With an inhuman screech of stone against stone, Genaine whirled on a cowering Custos and lunged at them. Custos’s shrill shriek of alarm mingled with the horrible crunching of metal. Something red and glistening fell to the ground before Aoife.
Amicus was on Genaine in a second, wrestling the golem off of their apprentice and onto the dirt. There the pair rolled and floundered, forcing everyone to step away for fear of flailing limbs. By the time Ackerley found enough voice to choke out “Birthright!” Amicus’s visor had already been broken in half and several of Genaine’s smaller boulders lay shattered across the floor. “Stop it!” commanded Ackerely. “Stop it!” And just like that, the fight stopped.
But the noise didn’t. Custos wailed high soprano, collapsed on the table- arms around knees. Now devoid of its scarlet capstone, their power core pulsed and hummed brilliantly. It was a song Aoife knew well. Fa should; fa wrote it. In the back of the crowd Quaide keened for a different reason. Kai too had recognized the song. In the middle of Custos’s chest pulses Aoife’s fractured antler tip.
Genaine stewed in silence beneath Amicus’s weight as the village struggled to take in the significance of what had been revealed. “I said I wouldn't use it if you didn’t try to kill anyone,” Ackerley stuttered, more to themselves than anyone else. “But you-” They trailed off, glancing plaintively around at the gathered faces.
Finally, Quaide broke through the silence that had fallen, save for the soft crying of Custos. “Let Genaine speak. We deserve to know what you’ve done.”
“I haven’t done anything! I’ve- I- oh. Just speak Genaine.”
Still pinned by Amicus and the force of air word, an unnatural voice- an actual human voice, emanated from Genaine, dripping with unrestrained malice. “Ackerley has broken our fragile trust by stealing Aoife’s life force and using it as an extravagant battery for this unnatural monstrosity. If it can take Aoife’s voice, what else can it take? What else have the pair of them already taken?”
Aoife knows that all eyes are on fem, and yet fa can’t find any words. Fa can’t even find any feelings- just numb disbelief. Is fa hearing right? Did Ackerley power Custos with a shard of feir discarded antler? What did that even mean? Feir force, the core of feir very being, is now in someone else? Aoife doesn’t know what to think, let alone what to say, and so fa turns and walks away- away from Ackerley’s desperate eyes, Quaide’s horror, Genaine’s unreadable still body, and away from all the questions.
“Iii will prot-t-tec-c-c-t-t-t yuuu,” Amicus promised as they took the still-shaking Custos up in their scraped arms. Slowly, so as not to jostle their precious cargo any further, the warrior carried Custos to the little watchtower they had claimed as their own. Laying them down on Amicus’s own untouched cot, Amicus began to inspect the apprentice for damage. A number of Custos’s feathers were dislodged or dented and there were a few minor scrapes across their torso. Most notable, of course, was the gaping hole where Custos’s capstone had been. Tomorrow morning Amicus would have to try and find it, but until then they couldn’t do much about their apprentice’s physical ills. They couldn’t do much about their apprentice’s physical ills period, only Ackerley could, and well- “Yuuu will beee okaaa.”
Custos rolled over to face the wall, knees tucked up against their chest. “What am I?” they whispered so softly it was barely more than a breath. Amicus sank onto the cot and rested a hand gingerly upon their apprentice’s shoulder, heart twisting as Custos flinched at the touch.
“Yuuu are yuuu and that-t-ts all that-t-t matt-t-ters. Rest-t-t.” And Custos did rest: fitfully and for short bursts at a time. But every time they awoke, Amicus was sitting over them, guarding them as they promised they would.
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hazilnut
Junior Member
Eager for our new journey
Posts: 52
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Post by hazilnut on Nov 7, 2019 18:37:31 GMT -8
08 - A New Song It had long since stopped being a surprising sight: Ackerley sitting under the table in Princeps’s office, fiddling with a spring or scrap of metal. With a mental decry that their joints were really too old for this, funny for the fact that they were only going on five years, Princeps eased into a sitting position on the packed earth besides Ackerley. The head chief had brought down a clipboard of tasks to work on if Ackerley didn’t feel like talking and, avoiding looking at the mechanic as one might avoid looking at a skittish cat, began to meticulously print the following week’s to-do list.
The scratching of metal on metal grew more agitated as Ackerley worked the spring into a useless knot, and then gradually grew quieter before the mechanic sighed and put the scrap metal down. Hugging their knees to their chest, Ackerley whispered “Keiran wouldn’t talk to me today.” Princeps set down their clipboard and turned to face Ackerley, trying to look as attentive as they could without actual eyes. “I had an idea for sprinklers, so the gatherers wouldn’t have to spend all day hauling water, but ei wouldn’t even look at me when I came to the field- just kept weeding.”
“Cultor?”
“Said I should probably come back later. But when’s later?” Growing more audibly distressed, Ackerley had tucked tighter and tighter into themselves until their soiled shirt collar muffled their cracking voice.
Princeps let out a sigh of hot steam. “It’s only been a few weeks. Everyone needs more time to reconcile what happened; especially the golems.” Evidently this was not what Ackerley was hoping to hear.
“I don’t know where I went wrong.” Their voice cracked pathetically around parched lips. “I don’t understand. The crystal wasn’t even being used.”
Tugging the jacket they had taken to wearing more frequently tighter around their torso, Princeps took a moment to settle into a better position before speaking. “It’s more than cultural, I think. Golem force isn’t like hair or teeth- it keeps living after being separated from the body. I just don’t think anyone knew how much so.”
“How could I have known?”
“I don’t know. But what happened, happened and we’re all just trying to figure out where to go from here.”
Ackerley swiped a hand roughly across their eyes, sniffling. “Then what can I do?”
Slowly and deliberately, Princeps placed a hand on top of Ackerley’s and squeezed. “Wait.”
—-
Custos had been fairly certain they were alone in this particular clearing of the woods. Amicus had watched them like a hawk for several weeks following the incident but more recently had been spending more and more time with Aoife, and time with Aoife and time with Custos couldn’t overlap. So feeling more put out by the isolation of waiting for their mentor in the watchtower for hours on end than scared of what Genaine might do, though the terror was still sharp, Custos had gone off to mope in the woods.
They hadn’t expected to find another person in the clearing they had chosen as sanctuary, let alone hear music. So caught up in the moment was Custos that they didn’t notice the end of the ancient stairs that wrapped the hill they were descending.
Upon hearing Custos’ yelp of surprise at a drop-off larger than they expected, Tonus abruptly stopped fiddling and turned around. Deft movements retuned the instrument as Custos checked over themselves to make sure nothing was broken, turning the instrument into an approximation of vocal cords.
“Hello Custos,” Tonus greeted them warmly, beckoning the apprentice over. Feet dragging, Custos inched their way out of the shadows and into the pale sunlight. Tonus patted a spot in the grass beside them and Custos gingerly kneeled down. “What brings you out here?”
“I was tired of being cooped up in the watchtower all day.”
Tonus nodded sympathetically, though the motion seemed empty to Custos. What exactly had this robot gone through in their one and a half years of life that enabled them to relate to Custos? Fortunately the apprentice was too morose to voice such a question. Instead they scrutinized Tonus’s instrument. “Nice isn’t it? Songs, words, arrows- this baby can do it all.”
“Have you killed anything with it?” Custos supposed the hunter was probably deeply disturbed by their morbid question, but Tonus’s painted on eyes didn’t give them the means to display incredulity so Custos didn’t particularly care about how they felt- only their answer.
There was a mournful edge to Tonus’s response: a lingering low note. “Yes, but I don’t like to.”
“Good.” The tension in Custos’s body released a little and they slid into a fully seated position.
“I’d rather play music with it. I’d rather play music than speak honestly. There’s something magical about song.” Custos nodded in agreement. “You have such a nice voice so of course you know what I mean. Shame not to hear it more often.”
Turning away from Tonus’s empty eyes, Custos took to tearing out strands of grass and tearing them lengthwise with great concentration. “S’not my voice.”
“Of course it is.”
“It’s not! It’s Aoife’s and fa won’t even talk to me.” The high-pitched protest in Custos’s voice quickly became a pathetic squeak. They scrubbed at the corners of their eyes, where tears shouldn’t be able to come. “No one will talk to me.”
Tonus sunk back into the grass. “Talking’s overrated. Adults like to talk-talk-talk but they never say anything.”
Custos’s mouth opened and closed like a fish. Finally they sputtered out an accusation. “Aren’t you an adult?”
Shrugging, Tonus went back to tuning their fiddle. They played a few notes, adjusted, and played a few more. They began to coax a melody out of the instrument, yearning and visceral. Custos let the music wash over them as they watched the sun creep ever closer to the canopy, and slowly they began to hum.
—-
The cats twisted around table legs, purring wildly as Keiran and Aoife cleaned fish. Every so often Keiran would toss a scrap of meat behind eir head to keep the three beasts satisfied, but didn’t glow with amusement as ei usually did when Calpras and Hehimm started wrestling for a fin. In fact, the golem was gutting a salmon with such intensity that Aoife physically leaned away from eir cutting board despite not having any fleshy limbs to endanger.
“Keiran, are you alright?” asked Aoife when Keiran was between massacring fish.
Keiran thrust the knife down with a splattering of fish juice. “How are you not angry?”
Aoife didn’t ask: “angry about what?” because fa knew exactly what feir friend meant- what everyone meant when they avoided Aoife’s gaze or rescheduled feir hunting trips. What people wouldn’t say. “I am angry,” fa insists but a pebble skips and uncertainty enters feir rumble. “I’m just, confused I guess?” Fa didn’t want to see Ackerley, or Custos for that matter, but was that anger? Past experience said that anger was heavy and hot, but right now Aoife felt more empty than anything. “I don’t know what to do. I just need space.”
“Okay.” Keiran picked up eir knife again and grabbed another fish. “Okay. I’ll try and keep people away from you then.”
“Thanks.”
Alas, Keiran wasn’t around the following day when Aoife was down by the river lining a set of old baskets with fresh clay to extend their lifetime. The burbling of the river reminded Aoife of old times, in a way that was peaceful rather than overwhelming as was oft the case, and in this new-found calm fa had taken to flexing feir magic.
Hey ho willow on a hill, cat in the kitchen licking up the spill Hey ho shadow in the brook, pot on the campfire heating up to cook
The words the golem sang were not meaningless, however silly the ditty might seem to an observer. Rather, they suggested the shape the clay should take- the properties it should cultivate. Aoife sang of holding and cooking, binding and storing, lasting and guarding and the clay took on its shape in turn. It was nothing fancy or world-shattering, just simple magic for a simple task, still singing never failed to lift Aoife’s spirits and the golem was glowing by the time fa had finished feir first set of pots.
As fa was setting aside the half-dozen baskets fa had brought down in the first trip to dry in the sun, a peculiar sound intertwined with chuckling brook and rustling branches.
In the garden, flowers bloom Quiet where none can see In the garden, children play Laughing for all to hear In the garden you scrape your knee Shocked to tears you run to me I pick you up and sing this song And hold you tight where you belong
Looking up, Aoife saw the violet-covered limestone of Quaide hovering just where the forest bled into the riverbank. The words kai sang were soft and unsure but reached Aoife with terrifying clarity. Fa wasn’t sure whether the pressure on feir chest was from wanting to cry or scream.
“That’s a new song,” said Aoife thickly as feir composer’s lullaby trailed off. Quaide evidently took it as an invitation to come closer; Aoife could hear the soft shifting of sand as kai approached.
For a while the pair just watched the river, but the activity that had been so peaceful only moments before now only furthered Aoife’s sense of trepidation. In some ways Quiade’s silence was worse than when kai spoke because in keir silence Aoife could imagine thousands of expressions of disappointment: half-way sighs and chastising utterances of feir name. But when Quaide speaks for once it isn’t to lecture.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you.”
“You’re sorry?” The words don’t feel right between Aoife’s stones. They’re too fragile; the slip of one pebble could crush them to dust.
“Everything that’s happened, I-I’ve been bad at adjusting.” Quiade flinched under the weight of Aoife’s guarded gaze, turning keir attention to the river instead. “What Ackerley did isn’t your fault.”
“I know that,” murmured Aoife, but kai can’t quite disguise their surprise at Quaide saying so.
Quaide went silent for a moment, and Aoife had to fight down that familiar rush of guilt at upsetting feir composer before kai spoke again. “Hunting and Amicus- I don’t understand it. But I guess I haven’t been trying too hard.” Kai laughed, a soft shushing of violets. “I want to be someone you can turn to when you’re hurting, Phe.”
This time, it was Aoife who turned away from Quaide. “Like you said: you don’t understand. How am I supposed to come to you when all you’ll do is make judgemental comments?”
“Oh Phe,” sighed Quaide, but Aoife refused to be baited. Fa remained quiet and still until Quaide was forced to fill the silence. “I do want to understand, I do. Aoife- please will you help me?”
And now Aoife turned back around to meet Quaide’s gaze, holding it evenly. “If we’re going to have a relationship I cannot carry you up that hill. Find your feet and meet me at the top.”
“When did you grow up?” Though Quaide didn’t adknowledge what Aoife said, there’s a tenderness to keir voice that makes fa hopeful that maybe, just maybe, the message had sunk in. But for now fa was exhausted.
“I have a lot of work to do.”
“Of course. I’ll leave you to it” For a moment Quaide looked as if kai might try and give Aoife’s force a comforting squeeze, but kai thought better of it and opted for a small wave before departing, leaving Aoife alone with the river, the trees, and feir thoughts.
---
Cultor wasn’t supposed by Genaine’s reaction to the trio’s arrival: a snarl of “Hasn’t one human caused us enough trouble?”, but what was unexpected was Keiran’s muffled rumble of assent. Cultor didn't have enough time to ask their apprentice what the matter was when the trio of humans, escorted by Amicus, reached the center clearing of Mekhanikos.
“I am Hanna,” the tallest human, to whom the two smaller ones stay close to, announced. They were probably around Ackerley’s age, though Cultor wouldn’t be the one to ask about human life cycles. They did possess a commanding aura that led them to appear far taller than the mechanic who stood besides Princeps to greet the newcomers.
“I am Princeps, leader of Mekhanikos. What is it that you seek?” After the voice of Hanna, Princep’s own sounded especially monotone. How much of that was in comparison, Cultor wondered, and how much was due to discomfort at acting out unfamiliar formalities?
“We seek refuge. A civil war tore apart our home region and we’ve been looking for a peaceful place to stay ever since. My cousins Rowan and Ezekiel-“ Hanna gestured to the larger and smaller children in turn, “are tired of wandering. We want to build.”
Cultor didn’t believe Ackerley, who had perked up considerably at the mentioning of building, noticed that Hanna’s attention was focused almost entirely on them rather than Princeps. The head chief, though, did, and took a step back to let Ackerley and Hanna converse.
“Do you mean build as in build a home, or build as in build things?” asked the mechanic curiously.
Hanna glanced around the gathered robots and golems, nodding appreciatively. “A home mainly, but I would enjoy learning from a master of mechanics such as you. Amicus-“ they tested the name out on their tongue, “said you made them? Did you make everyone here?”
“Most,” acknowledged Ackerley with a bashful twist of their hands. “The golems I only found.”
“I’m a bit of an inventor myself.”
“Really? Oh you guys have to stay! Mekhanikos is a great place to make your home.” The pleading face Ackerley gave Princeps was not unlike those Keiran would give Cultor when a cat or two would sneak into eir tent on long gathering trips: a little guilty but not enough to stop.
Princeps gave a ticking, steam-filled sigh. “Well we can’t really turn away refugees.”
“Wonderful.” Hanna smiled and bent down to be eye-level with Rowan and Ezekiel. “This is going to be our new home. Go get the cornerstone will you?”
The children nodded seriously bur couldn’t help but scamper as they went over to retrieve a large velvet bag that Amicus had been holding. The robot helped steady the pair as they brought the bag back to Hanna and revealed a homely rock carved with symbols that Cultor couldn’t make out.
“This is the cornerstone,” Hanna explained, “it was the first stone laid when in our grandfather’s house. We were hoping to start our own home with it.”
“Of course! Pick anywhere you like.”
Princeps quickly undermined Ackerley’s generous generality and began to explain good possible building sites, and the crowd of assembled synthetics gradually began to disperse as details were worked out. Cultor wasn’t sure the implication of the addition of the three humans, but they weren’t going to lose any metaphorical sleep over it. Not when there were plants to be tended to.
---
“This is amazing!” Ackerley couldn’t help the smile that split their face as Hanna ambled around the workshop, peering at half-started projects and peaking in drawers. They had been concerned she would laugh at the mess the place was in, but they supposed even a workshop overflowing with springs and sheets of rusting metal would seem special after wandering in the woods for months. “Is this where you made all of the robots?”
“Yeah!” Grasping Hanna by the hand, she didn’t seem to mind, Ackerley gave her a tour of all the various desks and lathes that they had drafted, prototyped, welded, wired, and assembled the mechanical denizens of Mekhanikos, eagerly answering questions as they arose. When it came time, Ackerley practically dragged Hanna over to where they had carefully constructed the AI of their friends. It was far from the most modern set up, given the limited resources Ackerley had to work with, but they still believed that the glowing and beeping patchwork that filled half the room was the most beautiful thing they had ever laid eyes on. “Everything starts out as these cards punched with holes,” Ackerley explained as they pulled open drawers upon drawers of pockmarked cards. “The computer translates the patterns of holes into information, and that information becomes Amicus or Cultor!”
“You make people out of punch cards?” Hanna was staring, transfixed, but at Ackerley rather than the computer. Suddenly nervous under the weight of her attention, the mechanic laughed awkwardly.
“Sort of? I’m honestly not entirely sure why those I build here developed free will and full personhood when those I built back at home up north never did. I do have theories-“ Ackerley had begun rustling through papers to find the notebook they had dedicated to the subject when Hanna interrupted their train of thought.
“Does it really matter?”
Ackerley stared at her, dumbfounded, papers spilling from their hands. “Of course it matters! Actual AI, people AI is revolutionary.”
Sensing Ackerley’s distress, Hanna took the mechanic’s hands in her own and murmured apologetically. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to imply it wasn’t. It’s just-“ she seemed to be looking past Ackerley for a moment, “after witnessing civil war, it makes me wonder whether free will is worth the pedestal we place it on. Robots with actual minds of their own seem more trouble they’re worth in some ways.” Ackerley pulled their hands away to run them through their hair, turning away from Hanna to stare at the computer’s mesmerizing light show. Thoughts of Custos and Genaine’s word and Amicus who was still avoiding them came to their mind, unwanted.
“I-“
“I’ve upset you,” Hanna noted sadly, “I apologize. Sometimes I philosophize too much for my own good.”
Ackerley turned back around to read the genuine disappointment in Hanna’s eyes. They couldn’t bare that look, not after seeing it in countless eyes for the past months. “No, no it’s okay!” They assured her, not at all sure of that themselves. “You’ve been through so much. I can’t blame you for your ideas.” Relief flooded the mechanic as Hanna’s sad smile grew more genuine.
“I won’t bother you more today. You’re still okay with Zeke shadowing you though, right?”
“Oh yes of course!” And after just a moment of hesitation: “You’re welcome back too you know. It-it’s good to have someone who likes creating around.”
Hanna’s smile bloomed and Ackerley felt the uncertainty that had wedged itself in their chest give a little. “Thank you.” Her tone was warm and genuine. “I’ll be back tomorrow then.”
“I’ll look forward to it.”
---
Custos’s habit of slinking around the forest was a recent development, born of the warring of continual boredom and fear. It had been several months since the incident and the human’s recent arrival had taken some of the lingering heat off of Custos, so the apprentice had grown more bold in their explorations away from Amicus’s watchtower. Sometimes they hung out with Tonus, others they just picked their way through the overgrown remnants of Caling, trying to imagine how grand the terraces and temples must have looked before losing the fight to time and nature. Custos liked to think they had a worthwhile aesthetic sense, though today the beauty that had captured their imagination was not of the architectural variety.
They had just wanted to catch a glimpse of the humans whose arrival had stirred up so much interest, so Custos had jangled their way through the underbrush towards town in the hopes of seeing what the fuss was all about. Custos had paused at the outskirts of the farm, hovering just within the treeline. They watched two of the humans train on a bit of land that had been recently cleared but not yet tilled. The taller human, who could only be Hanna by Amicus’s descriptions of the arrivals, paced around the smaller, Rowan, Custos believed, observing and making minor corrections to the apprentice’s form. They spoke too softly for Custos to make out the actual words of the lesson, but that didn’t stop them from mirroring Rowan’s practiced movements with clumsy imaginary strikes. At least, until a particularly overshot step that sent the robot scrabbling for balance caught the attention of both humans.
Custos stood very, very still as Hanna retrieved her polearm and strode towards the woods. If Custos had any breath to hold as the warrior poked around the treeline, drawing ever closer to the robot’s hiding spot, they would have gone blue in the face with holding it. Before Hanna found the apprentice and ended their life before it had really begun, a deer came crashing out of the woods, catching her attention. Rowan gave a greatly relieved chest-laugh as Hanna muttered something about city life, shaking her head as she wandered away from Custos’s hiding nook and back towards Rowan. What she told Rowan before slinging her polearm back over her shoulder and starting back to town was lost on Custos, partially due to distance and partially due to the robot’s preoccupation with being unexpectedly still alive.
Gradually Custos calmed enough to watch as Rowan, now alone, continued to train. They didn’t have any frame of reference to tell if the other apprentice was any good at what she did, but that didn’t prevent them from drinking in Rowan’s every move like she was a nymph dancing on air. So glued to the scene was Custos that they failed to recognize anyone was behind them until a delicate hand tapped them on the shoulder.
With a high-pitched yelp, Custos whirled around to find a pouting Lumina, arms crossed and shaking their head. “You’re really no good at this hide and seek thing are you?”
Custos pressed a palm to their throbbing power core, trying to slow their racing pulse. “Lumina! I, uh, I didn’t know we were playing?”
Lumina just tutted as they scampered easily back up the tree they had presumably come from. “If you’d known I’d have been doing it wrong.” And before Custos could say anything back about that not being how games worked, Lumina’s and their tell-tale blue glow had already vanished into the canopy.
Custos didn’t have time to process exactly what happened before another presence made itself known to them. “S-state your business,” demanded a trembling voice which, as Custos learned upon slowly turning around, hands up, belonged to Rowan, who brandished her training spear at the robot. Custos just blinked at her, too surprised at being spoken to to be particularly threatened.
“I live here?” they managed finally.
“Oh. You’re one of the robots Ackerley made?” Rowan kept the spear trained on Custos’s chest.
“I’m Custos.” When Rowan didn’t respond Custos gave up trying to keep their attention on the human’s weapon. It was a fruitless effort when Rowan’s clothes and hair were so bright and distracting, especially up close. “I like your-” Custos struggled for the right word. “-shirt?”
“Dress,” Rowan clarified. She let the spear droop and scrutinized Custos. “Do you not have dresses here?” She sounded genuinely curious and a little indignant.
Custos shook their head. “Princeps has- a jacket I think you call it? We have hats though, two kinds! The round kind and the kind that looks like a duck’s bill.” Rowan laughed and Custos felt like they were glowing; not that they could of course, not being a golem and all. The human planted her spear in the ground and leaned against it, swaying slightly. Custos couldn’t take their eyes off the swishing green silk and Rowan, noticing, laughed again and offered a sleeve for the robot to feel.
It wasn’t as soft as they had expected. The cloth was coarse and damp with sweat and wrinkled from when Rowan had cuffed it for training, but that didn’t stop Custos from stroking it as gingerly as fine silk. “It’s wonderful,” they breathed.
“I had a really lovely velvet gown back at home. My papa had is custom made for me because I didn’t fit the department store women’s sizes.”
“What’s a department store?”
Rowan’s eyes lit up and she began to animatedly describe the wonders of the department store in the city where she grew up: the perfume department, the seasonal displays, the rows upon rows of hats and stockings. Custos thought it sounded like heaven.
“Do you think,” they asked finally, “if I went to a department store I could be like you? What’s the word- feminine?”
“Oh!” Rowan exclaimed, clapping her hands. “Oh! You don’t need a department store for that- you can just decide. And Hanna and I can make a dress for you and you can look at the the jewelry I bought and oh!” She grabbed Custos by the hands and spun the pair of them around. “This will be so much fun!”
---
If there was one thing Genaine was good at doing, it was making people uncomfortable. A newly resurrected piece of Keiran relished in it, even if the more sensible bits of em winced at just how much ei was enjoying seeing Ackerley skirting around the menacing coal golem and Hanna herding the little humans away from air accusing gaze. But the spring rain was washing away valuable topsoil and eroding Keiran’s body and patience alike. A few days of downpour ei could have handled, could have been grateful for even, but weeks? Keiran was going to go mad if ei had to stay indoors any longer!
At least the golem wasn’t pouting alone. Sheherr, Hehimm, and Calpras were also forced to shelter from the weather in the ramshackle barn and were just as displeased about the whole thing. Keiran’s only comfort was the fact that Cultor wasn’t doing very much without em. The robotic farmer wasn’t much more waterproof than Keiran was and had been spending most of the recent days going over infrastructure with Princeps. Still, ei would much rather ei and Cultor were out in the fields, or at the very least reorganizing the barn together. Winnowing grain and pickling carrots alone was terribly boring and tending to Velox, who Keiran was ninety-percent certain maintained a grudge about the one time ei had switched horse duty with Lumina and something unknowable but obviously horrible had gone down that had left Velox a shell of his former self, was terrifying, but what was infinitely worse were the long stretches of time with nothing to fill them. There could not possibly be, in Keiran’s humble opinion, a worse hell than sitting idly in a barn.
Keiran had changed eir mind. There was a worse hell and it was home to a demon with bright red hair splattered in mud up to the armpits. Keiran had bribed Ezekiel to quit his game of “how much hay can I sprinkle on Velox’s rump until he decides to kick my teeth out” with the jerky ei had been planning to snack on. Perhaps it would be more correct to say Ezekiel blackmailed Keiran, pointing out that the golem couldn’t taste anyways so wouldn’t the jerky mean so much more to a poor starving little boy? He had flat out refused to help air out the chaff or look for a leak because Keiran was, quote, “Not his dad or his papa nor even Hana”. Keiran wanted very badly to wipe the smirk off the kid’s snotty face at using ‘nor’ correctly and thus obviously proving his superiority.
When Ezekiel wandered off to poke his head in every cobwebbed nook and dripping cranny, Keiran had been grateful for the peace. Ei hadn’t had enough experience with children to learn that when the obnoxiously loud were suddenly quiet they were in the eye of the storm. It wasn’t until a sudden caterwauling split the current of rain like lightning that Keiran’s metaphorical heart dropped out of eir metaphorical chest.
Damp clay thudded against the floor of the barn, straw sticking to the bottom of Keiran’s boulders as ei thundered towards the sound. Within one of the stalls stood Ezekiel dangling Calpras by a tail fluffed up to thrice its size. The wildcat wailed loudly as Sheherr and Hehimm hissed and spat from the corner of the stall, looking more electrified beaver than feline.
“Drop her!” Keiran bellowed, drawing up to eir full towering height, and Ezekiel did just that. After collapsing rather inelegantly to the ground, Calpras wasted no time in scoring a deep mark in her tormentor’s exposed leg and scampering off before Ezekiel could grab at her again, tail dragging uselessly behind her. The boy let out a cry of shock at the sudden pain, collapsing to the floor and hugging his bleeding thigh. Utterly devoid of sympathy for Ezekiel, Keiran leered over him practically shaking with anger. “What were you thinking? You horrible child! You absolute beast!” Whether Ezekiel was crying from pain or terror it was hard to say but tears and snot streamed pitfully from every orifice.
“I want Daddy!” he wailed. “I want Papa! Hanna!” The boy’s cries were ear-splitting and obtained the desired result. Within a few moments a soaking-wet Hanna and an assortment of other villagers came crashing into the barn to see what the fuss was about. Amicus just barely managed to restrain Hanna, who was armed with a polearm that she seemed extremely ready to drive through Keiran.
“What did you do to him?” the human demanded, struggling ineffectively against Amicus’s unrelenting metal arms. “Let go of me! Zeke is hurt!”
“It’s just a scratch,” snarled Keiran. “Less than he deserved for breaking Calpras’s tail. Do all you humans insist on ruining everything you touch?”
“Tail? Ruining? It’s just a stupid cat! Zeke needs medical attention- let me go to him!”
“Amicus-” Keiran hadn’t even noticed Ackerley was in the room until they stepped out from behind the armored robot, a pleading hand on their arm. With a small nod Amicus let Hanna go and watched stoically as she pushed past Keiran to scoop up her cousin and rock him against her chest.
“I want Daddy,” he sobbed pitifully into Hanna’s shoulder. “I want to go home.” Hanna shushed and rocked him, murmuring what sounded like a song into Zeke’s hair until his breathing sounded more human and less like a suffocating fish.
The other villagers in the barn shuffled awkwardly in the aftermath of the scene, not exactly sure what they should do. For eir part, guilt had begun to sneak up on Keiran as ei listened to Ezekiel cry for a home and family he couldn’t return to. Ei didn’t like the tide of sympathy and eir own repressed feelings on the subjects of family that was rising in eir chest so, excusing emself to whoever was close enough to hear, they shoved their way through the crowd and out into the still-drizzling rain.
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hazilnut
Junior Member
Eager for our new journey
Posts: 52
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Post by hazilnut on Nov 7, 2019 23:53:37 GMT -8
09 - Playing Music a Step Out of Count “Were you lonely?” asked Hanna one day. “Being all on your own these past years?”
Ackerley set down the charcoal they’d been sketching with and glanced up at Hanna with a quizzical expression. “I wasn’t alone.”
Hanna sighed and shook her head, laughing lightly as if Ackerley had told joke that wasn’t quite deserving of a full belly-laugh. “I meant without any people around.” With a few expert flicks of her wrist Hanna revealed the wings of the little duck she had been carving, bringing more of what had been hidden in an unremarkable block of pine to light.
“I don’t think you understand.” Ackerley frowned as Hanna laughed again.
“Maybe I don’t,” she acknowledged with a placating smile. Half a dozen deft movements exposed the beginnings of a beak, longer and sharper than mallards typically sported. Hanna clucked her tongue and leveled it off. “Force of habit.” Ackerley had to wonder what habit but Hanna gestured at their paper with the tip of her whittling knife, distracting then from the thought. “You’re smudging.”
Glancing down, Ackerley sighed at the sight. What had been the beginning of a prototype lance Hanna had requested was now a mostly indistinguishable cloud of grey, rubbed out by the side of a stray sweaty hand. “I really hope Princeps manages to trade for some ink or graphite. This do-it-yourself charcoal isn’t really working.” Hanna chuckled and offered Ackerley her finished duck. They turned it over in their hands, admiring the improbable smoothness of the unsanded wood. It wasn’t a particularly detailed carving, no feathers or feet, but it was unmistakably a duck.
“No, keep it,” Hanna insisted when Ackerley tried to return the duck. “It still feels kind of silly to make knickknacks like that- a waste of resources.”
“Things don’t have to be useful to be worthwhile.”
“You might be right.” But Hanna didn’t seem particularly convinced. “Actually, give that here a second.” Hanna took the carving and charcoal from Ackerley and scribbled two beady black eyes on the duck’s face. “There. Perfect.”
Laughing, Ackerley slid the duck into their pocket, adjusting it so it’s little head stuck out among the various tools. “Perfect.”
—-
Rowan sat with Lucerne and Deborah, watching Aoife and Amicus spar in the muddy field. A week or so ago they had arrived at Mekhanikos with a grumpy red-headed man who brought with him so much luggage one might think he was a rich tourist rather than a refugee. Rowan didn’t recognize Adam, as he was introduced, but she did know Lucerne and Deborah immediately.
Lucy and Hanna had been in the same detachment during the war, and had trained together even before political tensions had escalated. The knight, that was probably the best word to describe Lucy, was a bit of an enigma but Hanna trusted them and that was enough for Rowan. Rowan knew even less about Deborah, in a different way. She had only really met the older woman once, when she helped her, Zeke, and Hanna get out of Neomiltis, but from what her cousin had said Deborah had a great deal of influence back in the city.
“Tell me what you see,” Deborah commanded, gesturing with a wrinkled hand towards the sparring synthetics. Rowan squinted, leaning forwards to get a better look at Aoife and Amicus’s clashing blades. Both fought as if their weapons were extensions of their own bodies, and that was quite possibly true. Amicus’s sword was forged of the same polished metal as their armor and Aoife’s weaponry was integrated into feir force. Fa deflected Amicus’s blow with the metal guard strapped to one of feir larger boulders, sparks and the keen of metal on metal filling the air and making Rowan wince. The golem took the opportunity to return a blow of feir own, striking at Amicus with feir hiltless blade and driving the robot back a few steps. Pressing feir advantage, Aoife forced Amicus onto the defensive with a series of quick strikes.
“Aoife’s got the upper hand,” ventured Rowan, turning to read Deborah’s expression. The older woman shook her head and cupped her veined hands around Rowan’s shoulder, pulling the apprentice so her spine was flat against the chairback.
“You need a wider perspective; the battle is not in the blades. Look at their stances.” Rowan did as instructed, forcing herself to turn away from the flashing blades and view the fighters as complete units. And there it was.
“Aoife’s off balance.”
Deborah smiled warmly. “And?” “Even though they’re on the defense, Amicus is the one in control of the battlefield. Aoife’s spending way more energy trying to drive Amicus back but Amicus is a better fighter so they can take the hits without tiring. Sooner or later Aoife’s going to-” As Rowan was assessing Aoife finally overshot, giving Amicus just the window they needed to knock the golem’s blade away and ram fa squarely in the chest with a shoulder, knocking Aoife to the ground. “Yup. Just like that.”
As Amicus helped Aoife back up and the pair began to check over both themselves and their equipment for potential damage, Deborah turned back to Rowan and asked “What can you tell from the battle as a whole?”
Rowan twisted her fingers through her hair, thinking hard. “Most of the blows were glancing with no lasting damage. They might have been pulling them at the last second?” She wracked her brain for anything else but couldn’t come up with any particular insight. Hanna had mostly taught her about military formations and basic polearm technique; swords and one on one combat was a bit out of Rowan’s wheelhouse.
“That’s good enough for a start. Soon you’ll learn how to interpret what the pulling or not pulling of blows means. For example, I know from watching these two spar that they’re highly protective of one another. There’s probably some buried feelings and uncertainty lingering that’s preventing either from going all-out and trusting the other can take it- they’re not sure where the limit lies.” Rowan nodded along with Deborah’s explanation. It seemed in line with what Custos had been telling her about the pair. “Amicus is the more practiced fighter as you noted, but that is mostly in comparison to Aoife. Against Hanna or Lucerne you would be able to tell how inexperienced it really is. Without anyone with actual combat experience to spar with it has simply stagnated. I hope this has given you a taste of how vital it is to size your opponents up before entering combat.”
“It has.” Rowan nodded seriously, eliciting a small grin from Deborah. “Though I hope I won’t have to use it anytime soon. Surely we’re safe with Vercia so far away?”
“Better to be prepared,” replied Deborah cryptically. She stood up and brushed off her knitted jumper, which made Rowan feel as if she were overheating just to look at it. “Now come. I’ll show you the best ways to use the land to your advantage.”
---
Princeps had spent much of the afternoon checking on the construction of an addition to the home Hanna and her cousins shared. It had seemed the ideal place to house the new arrivals, at least until more permanent arrangements could be made. The question of what to do if more refugees turned up unannounced still plagued the head chief as they meandered back to their office. The rising tension among the occupants of Mekhanikos had not gone unnoticed by Princeps. When they had approached Aoife that morning to request more aid with construction after fa had done so well with other building's foundations, they were met with shifting eyes and hesitation.
“I’d like to help,” Aoife had insisted, “but the way some of the humans look at me- I don’t know. Using magic around them feels like a bad idea.” Though a little miffed at the refusal Princeps didn’t press the point that constructing a wooden house didn’t necessitate any magic. Getting an actual multi-syllable answer from Aoife was progress enough given how much they had retreated in the past year or so. Broadening their search for aid had yielded everything from ridiculous excuses, Tonus was apparently of the mind that houses stifled creativity despite the fact that they slept in a bed just the same as everyone else, flat out refusal from Keiran who wanted nothing to do with “that animal abuser or any of his relations”, and what Princeps would have sworn was a death glare from Genaine except for the fact that ai always wore the same expression, which didn’t necessarily rule out the death glare theory. The point was, between running all around town on a failed recruiting mission and spending the rest of the afternoon doing far more manual labor than they were designed to do, Princeps was exhausted. Missing lunch hadn’t helped, though it wasn’t as if village-wide mealtimes were commonplace anymore.
Princeps couldn’t wait to collapse into their chair and relax with some mind-numbing paperwork, but to their surprise, swinging open the door to their office revealed a very different scene from the one they had left that morning. Leather briefcases rested in a pile in the corner, the previously-empty trashcan was now overflowing with the trade agreements Princeps had been stewing over for weeks, and an interloper with bright red hair sat behind their desk.
“Can I help you?” asked the man in Princep’s chair with the icy tone of voice that suggested he was really asking on what grounds he was being disturbed on. As if the self-entitled git wasn’t the one who waltzed in uninvited when Princeps wasn’t even home.
“What are you doing in my office, Adam?” More importantly, what was he doing in Princep’s chair? Adam just set down his fountain pen and rested his chin on his hand, unperturbed.
“I wasn’t pleased with the housing arrangement. Sharing a room with five other people? I think not. So I’ve decided to put myself up here instead.”
“You can’t just do that,” Princeps sputted, trying and failing to maintain their composure in the face of such ludicrous circumstances. “This is my office.” Adam arched a perfectly-manicured brow.
“I’m sure you and Ackerley have had a lovely time playing pretend,” droned Adam. Princeps was reminded of the noise summertime wasps made, dull and loud and meaningless. “But really, putting a robot in charge of a village?” The human covered his mouth to muffle a laugh of the same buzzing pitch. Mistaking Princep’s blank expression for fear Adam continued, “Don’t worry, I’m not interested in scrapping you. Maybe I could put you to work sorting or transcribing- might as well make some use of your bureaucratic experience.”
“Excuse you! I am not some glorified mechanical filing cabinet. I don’t know who you think you are sir but I am the leader of Mekhanikos and it is well within my power to throw you out.”
Adam leaned back in the chair, steepling his fingers and regarding Princeps curiously. “What that boy was thinking, giving tools personality, I just don’t get. Certainly doesn’t make you more efficient. More interesting perhaps.” Adam gave another droning laugh. “Maybe he’s just a mad scientist, driven crazy by isolation and scummy water.”
Enough was enough. Princeps went from still as a statue to slamming their fists on the desk and sending paper flying in a matter of seconds “Get out,” they growled, “Before I change my mind about letting you stay in Mekhanikos at all.”
Adam leaned forwards on the desk, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. “I don’t think I will. I sat at the same table as the leaders of the greatest political factions of our day and age and came away with deals that made me richer than many kings could dream of.” An edge entered Adam’s voice in sharp contrast to his previously monotonous tone. “So please, if you really are a leader like you claim to be, make me leave. I look forward to seeing you try.”
Even though Princeps had no visible eyes, they very clearly lost the staring contest. Adam just laughed as they turned and left the room, and jeered something that Princeps was too mad to process. They were even denied the satisfaction of a solid slam as they flung the door shut behind them; curse their need to keep its hinges as well-oiled as their own!
In the lengthening evening shadow of the building they had worked in for the past half-decade, Princeps stood in disbelief, rhythmically clenching and unclenching their fists as they tried to process what had just happened. What were they to do? They weren't a fighter- Princeps would just as likely break their own fists as they would Adam's nose, and no rational arguments would reach a man who was so dastardly as to steal another person's chair. As the head chief mulled over their increasingly limited options, a familiar jangling and buzzing touched their audio sensors.
"Hey Prince, you okay?" Hovering over Princeps was a familiar sunhatted face. Cultor was wearing the same neutral expression they always did but there was a note of concern in their static-y voice. How odd it was that the flat drone that had so easily gotten under Princep's skin when Adam was the one speaking became suddenly comforting when instead the speaker was Cultor.
"Adam has stolen my chair," they muttered darkly, and when Cultor didn't reply, realized that they weren't being particularly clear. "Physically. And metaphorically. He kicked me out of my own office." Cultor's mouth never wavered from its flat slit, but Princeps could practically feel their friend's expression darkening.
Cultor offered their hand to Princeps, who took it despite not having been sitting down and thus not in need of help getting up. Their touch receptors were more advanced than some's, needing fine motor control to do paperwork, and the dings and notches that pockmarked Cultor's otherwise smooth metal had a grounding effect. "Keiran," the farmer called over their shoulder to the golem who had been hunched over, petting Calpras and checking that her tail-stump hadn't gotten infected. At the sound of keir name Keiran gave the wildcat one last stroke and stomped over to the two robots.
"What's up?"
"Adam- the human with the half-shaved head, and I are going to have a chat. Care to back me up?"
"Oh would I!" The way Keiran's horns flashed at just the offer unnerved Princeps a little. This wasn't going to get out of hand was it?
---
By the time Amicus arrived to the scene, things had gotten wildly out of hand. Someone had dragged Adam out of Princep's office, and with him what seemed like half the contents of the room. Keiran and Cultor, armed with towels and rakes, were engaged in a stand off with Lucerne and Hanna who brandished much more threatening polearms. Adam was yelling something foul as he scooped up his belongings as Deborah looked on and laughed, though her hand rested on the knife she wore at her belt. Rather predictably, Genaine stood in the middle of it all, jeering the two sides on.
"Not even Ackerley's pets are safe from the ambitions of these humans," the golem snarled. "Either we cast them out or they will pry away at everything we hold dear until nothing remains. First our words, then our force, now our power- what's next?"
"Who're you calling a pet?" It was Lumina's voice, but there was no Lumina attached.
"Oh, would you prefer abomination?"
Custos whimpered in the corner. Rowan put an arm in front of her protectively, leaving her with only one shaky fist with which to swing her training lance in the direction of various perceived threats.
"Genaine stop it," Ackerley pleaded from where they stood in the simultaneous fringes and center of the battleground. "Hanna please put down your arms. We can work this out I'm sure."
Keiran spat out a pebble, causing Lucerne to flinch slightly and nearly break the deadlock. “Choose a side Curly. Battlelines are being drawn.”
“Keiran-” Cultor warned.
“Don’t be ridiculous- there’s no sides!”
"You drew them the moment you dared insert yourself into something you-"
"That's enough!" Before Amicus had to intervene, Aoife's cry interrupted the argument, drawing all eyes to the brittle slate golem in ill-fitting metal plates who suddenly felt very small under the weight of all those eyes. Amicus gave their friend's boulder a gentle squeeze and fa found feir voice again. "I said that's enough. I don't know what the problem is but this won't solve it. It's late and everyone's exhausted. Let's just all go to sleep and deal with it in the morning." Lifting feir head, Aoife met the host of eyes- the angry, the tired, the terrified, and watched them break away one by one. It would be a moment before the crowd began to disperse into their own little groups, but when the first person broke eye-contact Aoife knew it was going to be okay.
The golem would have collapsed the moment everyone started dispersing if Amicus hadn't been there to catch fem. Leaning on feir friend's shoulder, Aoife found femself looking up at Amicus's face plate, which was blank for what felt like years. "/U did wel/" the robot finally flashed, and Aoife, suddenly aware that fa had been staring, straightened up with feir horns glowing brighter than the setting sun.
"I don't know what came over me," fa admitted in a fern-muffled mumble. "But hearing Genaine and, and Keiran- are we all really filled with that much hate?" Amicus didn't have a reply, and frankly Aoife hadn't been expecting one, but fa took their silence as a go-ahead to keep talking. "This past year and a half has been awful. I've only been able to talk to you- not that I don't love talking to your of course! But I can't hang out with Keiran without em getting all riled up, or even see Ackerley about these chafing guards. I can't even talk to your apprentice, Amicus. Custos hasn't even done anything!" If golems could cry, Aoife looked as if fa was about to. Feir boulders trembled as if the force keeping them together was coming loose and feir horns glowed an unnatural dark color. "I don't want to end up like Genaine."
"Pheee," Amicus keened, wrapping an awkward arm around their friend's approximation of a shoulder and positioning themself so Aoife was forced to look at their face plate. "/U wont. Ur bdy is to smll fr such h8t/"
Aoife laughed a stuttering, pebble-skipping laugh. "Thanks I think?"
/"ts true/" Amicus insisted, continuing their uncharacteristic teasing. "/Ur harts to bg fr ur bdy. Mchanic sys so/"
Aoife sighed with the brush of vine against vine. "I haven't been acting it lately. I should talk with Ackerley tomorrow; things shouldn't go unsaid for so long."
"/No thy shldnt/"
"Amicus-" The robot cocked their head expectantly at the sound of their name. Aoife tried to find feir words but this time not even the comforting touch of Amicus could help fem find them. In fact, the feeling of feir friend's warm metal on feir cold slate only rendered Aoife even more helpless. "Nevermind me, I'm just tired." Fa embraced the dopey glow feir horns were emitting and let femself enjoy the simple feeling of being close to Amicus for just a bit longer.
---
Rowan had pulled Custos into the dining hall once things had deescalated outside enough for her to feel comfortable exposing her back. She sat the younger girl down in the corner and curled up next to her, feeling Custos's brow before remembering that what worked on Zeke and other human kids wouldn't necessarily mean anything to a robot. Talking, though, was probably universal.
"Are you okay?" Rowan asked of her friend, even though the answer was pretty obvious by how Custos shook and pulled her arms tight around her chest to guard the light source which just faintly glowed through the scarlet fabric of her dress. The combination of color and glow made Custos look as if she had been stabbed in the heart and was bleeding out, Rowan thought, but she kept the observation to herself.
Custos remained silent and shaking for a few more moments, nervously glancing between Rowan and the door until she was absolutely certain no one was going to bust in and beat her up. "Not really." The rise and fall of the robot's whisper had a song-like quality to it. That was another thing Rowan had noticed about the robot that fascinated her. "No one's going to find us in here right?"
Well Rowan hadn't exactly snuck them inside but she nodded anyways. Sometimes you just had to tell a kid that they were safe so they didn't freak out and alert the actual threats to your location. "You're safe with me. Promise."
"O-okay." The flickering in Custos's chest slowed to a steady throb and she slowly loosened her death-grip on her opposing elbows. Her wings shrank too, becoming more streamlined rather than sticking up in all angles out of fear.
"Can I ask what happened?" Rowan dared venture.
Custos slowly met Rowan's gaze with her own uncertain one. "I told you that Genaine had hurt me. Left me with this." She pointed at the exposed glow in her chest. "Because Ackerley had given me something that they weren't supposed to take. I don't think they meant to do anything wrong, really, but they powered me with part of Aoife's force and fa wasn't happy. No one was."
Rowan squeezed her friend's hand and gave her a slight smile which didn't scratch the surface of how quickly her mind was whirring. "And so Genaine hurt you, because ai was angry?"
"Maybe ai was trying to take it back. Maybe ai just wanted to hurt someone- I don't know. But I've been on edge since and tonight just reminded me of when it happened, with everyone divided and yelling and-" Custos shuddered before looking back up at Rowan with an expression that was almost melting. "Thank you for protecting me."
"Of course." Rowan smiled. "You should stay at my house tonight, if you still feel unsafe. It'd be fun! Like a sleepover."
"A sleepover?"
"Yeah! Have you never heard of one?"
Custos shook her head. "No, but I think I get the idea. I don't really sleep though you know."
"I know, but it can still be fun! And I'll watch over you when you shut down and ensure no one hurts you." Rowan crossed her fingers over her heart in another expression Custos didn't know but could guess the meaning of.
"That does sound nice. Okay- yeah let's do it."
---
"Are they asleep?" asked Lucerne as Rowan tiptoed back into the main lobby where Lucy, Hanna, Adam, and Deborah had gathered. She gave a quick and decisive nod, mouth set in a determined line.
"And you're sure about this?" Hanna looked up from sharpening her polearm to fix Rowan with a serious stare. The apprentice just sighed and nodded as she had the last ten times her cousin had asked the question.
"Very sure. Custos is my friend, and she's been hurt by the other synthetics before. She'll understand why we had to do this."
"And if she doesn't?"
Rowan looked down at her feet, nails painted with a haphazard coating of ink that she had taught Custos how to do earlier in the evening. Before she had convinced the robot and her little brother that it was time for bed and walked them through the little rituals she always did before sleeping. On Zeke they worked like a charm and he was out like a light within ten minutes. Custos lingered just a little bit longer to thank Rowan before powering off. Her resolve strengthened. Rowan looked Lucerne right in the eye. "She will." The living enigma nodded, satisfied with her answer, and returned to making specific arrangements with Hanna.
Deborah pulled Adam off to the side to speak with him. "You're not going to pull anything tonight like you did this afternoon, right peacoat?" She didn't ask so much as command in an acid-laced drawl. Though Adam, who had sat at the tables of the greatest sinners and saints of this century, towered over her, Deborah's tone still made him a tinge uneasy.
Not uneasy enough to let it show in his face, which was all sculpted wax as he replied, "If you have done your job well then I have no doubt it will go off without a hitch."
"There's always a hitch. Just don't let it be you."
Adam gave a stiff nod and Deborah just gave a raspy laugh, yanking on the lapel of his jacket as she pushed past him to ready her own supplies. He scowled as she retreated and straightened his clothes, feeling for the dagger concealed in one of his inner pockets. One day that old hag was going to learn she wasn't in charge any more. But not tonight, no, let her relive her heydays once more. Maybe she'd get the rest of them out alive one more, just like back in the city.
---
It was a moonless night. The only reason Adam knew he was heading in the right direction was the dull clanking of Lucerne's armor, muffled for the occasion by wads of dried moss. This was the kind of night that Adam would have used for sending out shipments; moonless nights brought with them far fewer chances of raids from any of the factions in Neomiltis. Some folks would have told you there were only two sides to the civil war, but Adam knew that such people were dead wrong and most likely dead. There were as many factions involved in that war as Adam was contracted to supply, just as there were as many factions in this war as there were people and non-people. Adam didn't need Deborah's experience to see the stress fractures in Mekhanikos- they glowed as brightly as Custos's exposed core.
And, evidently, as brightly as the interior of Adam's future office. A faint light shone through the crack under the door and the spots where the window shade didn't quite cover the whole pane of glass. "Lucerne," he whispered, gesturing at the building, but he needn't have bothered. The soldier had already changed course from the intended path around the outskirts of the village to the backdoor of the office.
The fight began not with a bang but with a click. No one bothered to lock their doors here, so quite frankly they deserved what they got. Anyone who didn't make arrangements for their own safety ought not to be surprised when that safety was compromised by a blow to the back. The first swing of Lucerne's polearm sent Princeps flying forwards into the desk. Adam wrenched the chair out from under it before it could recover, sending the robot sprawling to the cold earthen floor. Its movements were slow and dazed, no match for the rain of blows Lucerne brought down on its patchwork back, a resounding crack accompanying each hit. Something rattled around inside the robot's shell as Lucerne flipped it over, driving the butt of their spear into its chest with another satisfying snap.
Adam went for Princep's head where he presumed the important mechanisms would be located. Glasses frames twisted and broke as he brought his brass knuckles down on the robot's face. The tool was crude but had served Adam well, the fading bruises on his hands attesting to its past success. Princeps shuddered, a dull clicking emitting from it's shell as if it were trying to speak but had been robbed on the means. A smile twisted its way onto Adam's lips. "Silent. As all good tools should be."
Suddenly the silence was broken by Adam's own scream as tearing pain ripped through his shoulder. A musical scale hung in the air for a moment before being silenced by the sure strike of Lucerne. Adam whirled around, clutching where the tip of a crossbow bolt stuck out through the fabric of his jacket. Lucerne stood over the lime green body of Tonus, which clutched its signature violin/crossbow combination which was loaded with another bolt of the kind that had struck Adam. The soldier's spear was planted firmly in the robot's chest, and judging by the effort it took for Lucerne to pry their weapon out from Tonus's body, it had gone straight through to the floor. A cursory glance at Princeps told Adam that it had stopped twitching too. Even as Adam eased his way to his feet, teeth clenched with the effort of not crying out as the bolt twisted in his flesh, the would-be head chief did not move.
"Let's get out of here," he hissed to Lucerne, who was investigating the shaft of their spear for any breaks or compromises.
"Do you need medical attention or can you still fight?"
"I've been better but I've made it through worse. Let's just get this over with-" A crash that shook the earth beneath Adam's feet interrupted the pair's conversation. Peeking out the window Lucerne frowned and waved for Adam to follow them outside. Gingerly so as not to aggravate his wound further, Adam picked his way over the obnoxiously green husk and slipped into the night after Lucerne.
---
Hanna glanced over her shoulder to ensure that Rowan was still tight on her flank. She wasn't particularly happy about dragging her younger cousin into a fight when Rowan couldn't even hold a polearm of the full weight and length but she hadn't had much choice when it came to timing. At least Zeke was tucked up in bed fast asleep. And even armed only with a training lance, Rowan would be okay- Hanna would make sure of it. With any luck there wouldn't even be a battle tonight. Only victory.
"This is the house?" she whispered to Deborah as the small party paused in a copse of trees next to their target. She didn't need to ask- of course it was, Hanna had watched the golems trail in and out of the shadowed building before them for over a year. But now the fight was finally here, finally real, and she didn't want any mistakes.
"Of course," Deborah replied, as breezily as if she had ordered such strikes on a daily basis. She had, of course, but that was besides the point. Sending soldiers into potential danger should never be so easy, but that was precisely Deborah's job. And following plans was Hanna's.
With a short wave Hanna signaled Rowan and Deborah to follow her into the golem's residency. She stopped in front of the first door in the short hallway and waited for the others to get into position further down. It was a tight squeeze for a broad-shouldered human and Hanna could only imagine how it would be for a golem. If Deborah's intel was on the money, bad.
Hanna kicked open the door to reveal a closet-sized room lined with pillows and containing a floating collection of boulders. She aimed first for the orange crystals that branched out from one of the boulders, shattering the tips of one of the antlers with the steel-reinforced butt of her spear. Dark ruby eyes flashed open as Genaine let out a wordless roar of stone on stone, pulling aimself together to leer over Hanna who only grit her teeth and brandished her spear. Down the hall, two more cacophonies of tumbling stones told Hanna that the real fight had begun.
With the practiced confidence of a trained solider, Hanna fended off Genaine's flurry of blows. The shaft of her spear groaned under the force of living coal but it still held and so did she. Most of Genaine's strikes flew wide of Hanna, striking door frame and wall with the wild fury of a corned animal. The golem was clumsy, off balance from being awakened so suddenly, and unused to fighting in such cramped corridors against a creature that could actually defend itself.
"Not quite the same is it?" grunted Hanna as one of her adversary's smaller chunks caught her in the side. "Facing a soldier instead of prey." Genaine didn't reply. Hanna doubted ai had the energy to. The golem was taking blow after blow and landing none of air own, though launching plenty. Hanna didn't dare turn around to see how the others were faring but judging by the fact that nothing had struck her in the back of the head yet she presumed the position was holding.
As another stray stone struck Hanna, causing her to wince and drop her lance just slightly, Genaine let out a thunderous rumble and tried to push past her. Clutching her lance with both hands so tightly that she could feel blood start to pool in the creases of her palms, Hanna forced the golem back and regained her stance. Genaine raged against the walls that had turned against aim, causing them to shudder and creak with each strike. Splinters began to rain down on Hanna's hair, as well as bits of planks that sheared off the wooden ceiling. Cracks spider-webbed the chinked walls, mortar tumbling to the floor and dancing as the house's framework shook.
"Everyone out, now!" Deborah snapped. Hanna broke away from Genaine without a second glance, looping her arm around Rowan who was hesitating, confused, and dragging her clear of the house just as Genaine crashed through the door and into the hallway, finally undermining the structural integrity of the building to the point that it surrendered to the laws of physics and collapsed with a mighty crash.
---
Cultor watched the scene unfold in horrifying slow motion from the entrance of the building that they had been the only one occupying. They had awoken to the screams, first human and then those of stone on stone, and rushed through the processes of booting up in time to step outside and watch a house collapse on top of their apprentice.
Hanna, Rowan, and Deborah stood off to the side, looking each other over for injuries, but Cultor did not pay them mind. Neither did they notice Lucerne and Adam crossing over from Princep's office, or even the bodies they had left in their wake. Cultor only had eyes for the immediate tragedy, running over to the shattered tiles and splintered planks and beginning to shift through the debris with strength they should not physically have. A black shape shifted from under a dusting of pine and mortar, red horns pulsing gently. Across the way Quaide reared keir head up out from beneath a pile of bricks, antlers cracked down nearly to the stone. Kai shoved weakly at the rubble surrounding kem, but kai was clearly too drained to actually free kemself.
Finally Cultor spotted the figure they had been so frantically searching for, the brown curvature of Keiran surrounded by shattered glass and crystal. Cultor kneeled down besides em and began brushing debris off of eir body, or what little they could given how much had embedded itself in the golem's soft clay. "It's going to be okay," they soothed, cupping Keiran's cheek with a smooth hand.
"Cultor-" the golem hummed weakly. " I'm 'kay, but you 'eed be 'areful. The humans-"
Something akin to a shiver ran through Cultor's wiring as they turned to look at the gathered humans that Keiran was referring to. They were armed, the robot realized, they hadn't noticed that before. The humans were armed and Adam was clutching the base of one of Tonus's crossbow bolts. Where was Tonus? Where was Princeps? Ackerley?
As if summoned by Cultor's thoughts, Ackerley stumbled out of their workshop and into the disaster zone, hair disheveled and eyes wide with deer-like fright. "Hanna wha-" But before Ackerley could finish their high-pitched question Hanna had rushed up to them and pulled them tight. Something glinted in her hand.
"Don't you come any closer!" Hanna snapped, voice shattering the frozen shocked silence. One of her arms was wrapped around Ackerley's waist, pinning them tight to her body. The other held a small dagger, glinting in the pale imitations of light that emanated from the gathered synthetics' sensors and buttons. She pressed the blade to Ackerley's throat, piercing just the slightest bit of skin before the mechanic stopped struggling. Dark blood tickled down the silvery edge of the weapon.
Cultor eased their gaze away from the scene that froze the current in their veins, forcing themself to not make any sudden movements as they craned their neck to follow Hanna's gaze. It had landed squarely on the pale yellow and red glow of Aoife and Amicus who must have been at the watchtower when the attack had begun. Cultor watched as the screen of light that made up Amicus's face bobbed slightly in the dark before freezing when a faint gurgle escaped Ackerley.
"I'm serious," warned the solider, whose face could not be made out in the dark but whose stiff hands said all that needed to be said. "I think the situation is clear. The synthetics will leave this place immediately and not return. Mekhanikos is not for you- it never was. You were placeholders until the real citizens arrived, and now that we have your presence will not be tolerated."
"Our presence will not be tolerated!" Genaine laughed a raspy, choking laugh of coal on wood and brick. "The thieves steal from thieves and we, who are as old as the land itself, are to give way for the inheritors of the earth. Did I not warn you?" The fervor in the golem's speech was mitigated somewhat by the last standing support beam crumbling atop aim, cutting aim off mid-laugh.
A squeaking sigh, like air escaping a balloon or the last drip of water squeezing from a tap, breached Ackerley's lips as Hanna pressed her dagger tighter. "I said stand down. Stand down or I'll gut your leader and the rest of you will surely follow." Cultor became suddenly aware again of the other humans who raised their weapons once more in corroboration of the threat. None shook save for Rowan, but without being able to make out her face she could just as easily have been trembling under the weight of her lance.
The silence dragged on. Time stilled. Then the creaking of Amicus's armor brought life back into the deadly night. The final resounding thud of sword hitting earth. "Stand Down," the robot commanded, the toneless keen in their voice resounding as clear as any grief-filled cry throughout the clearing. "Stand down!"
Cultor dropped to their knees, hand resting limply on Keiran's cheek. The golem had stopped shifting when it had become clear that Hanna was willing to slit Ackerley's throat as easily as one would thresh a sheath of wheat. Now Cultor could feel the warm but empty energy of Keiran's force wrapping around their hand, squeezing for just the confirmation that there was someone there.
---
They weren't given time to look for Princeps or Tonus, Lumina or Custos. They weren't given time to pack. As soon as Amicus had laid down their arms the humans began to push the synthetics out. Cultor helped Keiran to stand, Aoife pulled feir composure free. Genaine surfaced on air own and stared dead-eyed and darkly glowing as Lucerne and Rowan blocked the way to Hanna with crossed polearms. Ackerley watched, with the special horror of being forced to stand completely still and stiff, as their friends, dented and cracked, were escorted out of the village they had built together. Rowan, Adam, and Lucerne trailed the departing exiles into the depths of the forest and out of sight. Out of their life forever, as far as Ackerley knew. Their very shortly ending life, they imagined.
As the citizens of Mekhanikos disappeared into the trees, lights winking in and out of view before being snuffed out for good, Ackerley waited for the end. Their neck was already sticky with blood, face with snot and tears. The mechanic screwed their eyes up tight and held their breath, waiting for a blow that never came.
Instead, the pressure on their neck disappeared and Ackerley could breath again. They collapsed to their knees, grabbing at their stomach and emptying its contents into the dirt. Even when there was nothing left to choke out but air and the horrible feeling of a blade at their neck that wouldn't leave no matter how much Ackerley gagged into the dirt, they continued to be so violently sick that they barely registered what Hanna said.
"It's okay, they're gone. You're safe now."
"Safe?" Ackerley swallowed the bile rising in their throat; this word was far more bitter. Their lightheadedness did not fade but Ackerley was able to roll back onto their knees and meet the eyes of the woman who had left their home an empty shell.
Hanna had the gall to smile. "Yes. No more tension waiting to boil over. No more wars hovering just beyond the horizon."
"Just the one you brought with you."
Hanna's chilling grin morphed into a just as unnerving thin line. "I eliminated the threats to our home."
"You eliminated my home!" Ackerley hadn't the strength the stand so they just clawed at the hem of Hanna's bloomers. "You drove out my friends! You were going to kill them!"
"Your friends?" Hanna's violet eyes flashed an inky, light-devoid purple in moonless night. "Those things are not your friends," she spat. "Those things are accidents waiting to happen. Factions waiting to form. Give a tool free will and six months later you'll find an enemy in your home. Maybe not for months, maybe not even for years, but sooner or later you'll slip up and your little soldiers will turn on you and everything you love. They'll decide that your way isn't good enough- and it isn't. It's never good enough. So you have to squash all those ideas before someone gets to thinking that maybe their way is somehow the exception to the rule and they start challenging your power and starting unrest in the streets and getting civilians all caught up in petty squabbles over city names and the prices of bread and-"
"Shut up!" Ackerley screamed. They tore at the cuffs of Hanna's pants, clenching the cloth so tight it dig into their already raw hands. "The only one abusing free will here is you!" Ackerley's head snapped to the side under the sudden force of Hanna's palm. They grabbed at the the red paled mark that burned like fire, words and breath shocked out of them.
Hanna, too, could not find the words to speak, just stood above Ackerley panting like a dog. "You just don't get it," she growled finally when her breath returned, cold and biting as the air that had begun to seep into Ackerley's bones as the shock wore off. "But you will. You'll see things my way, one way or another."
---
Even though Rowan didn't think she'd be able to sleep, Hanna sent her to bed as soon as she returned from escorting the synthetics out of Mekhanikos territory. The adrenaline that had kept her alert during the fight had begun to wear off, and the handful of bruises she had sustained from fending off Keiran and wielding her own weapon wrong smarted with a dull throbbing pain. She was bone tired and her feet dragged all the way home, but her mind still raced.
Finding oil lamp in her room to be lit didn't do anything to alleviate Rowan's hyper-awareness. Rather her heartbeat sped up as she kicked the door open and brandished her lance at the first figure she saw: her little brother Zeke hovering over the sprawled body of Custos, cudgel in hand.
"Zeke!" Rowan cried, tossing her weapon and caution aside the scoop the boy up in her arms before immediate dropping him because she was far too sore to pick him up. She checked him over for bruises or cuts and, finding none, just kept her hands on his knees to remind herself that he was still there in one piece. "Are you alright? What happened?"
Zeke rolled his metal club over in his hands and glanced up at his sister. Though he tried very hard to hide it, his voice shook. "Custos n' me woke up to the screaming. Or, I woke up and she turned on super slowly. I didn't know where you were, or Hanna was, or anyone! But I knew something was wrong so I got my club like you said to and knocked Custos out."
Rowan's attention turned to the unmoving body of her friend. "You hit her?" Pressing her hand to Custos's chest, Rowan's heart didn't stop racing until she felt the familiar throbbing of Custos's core and saw that it was still glowing through the fabric of her nightgown. "Zeke why would you do that? Custos is our friend."
"I'm not stupid," the little boy responded, lip quivering. "I knew something was happening tonight, between us and the robots. I did what Hanna said to do- strike first."
"Yeah," Rowan breathed. "Yeah she always does say that." She glanced between her brother and the unconscious robot she was beginning to doubt, just little dandelion doubts, would be thrilled when she awoke. "Help me get Custos back on the cot okay? Then you need to go back to bed."
"Will you explain in the morning?"
"Yes," Rowan promised. Everything would get cleared up in the morning. She just had to believe that.
---
The rag-tag band of synthetics would have wandered until morning broke, had Keiran not been too weak to continue moving. Genaine was convinced the humans were still following them, preparing another strike. After all, why would they weaken a threat and then not take the time to follow through and eliminate them? Perhaps the humans thought they were not worth the effort, or that some misguided sense of loyalty would keep the synthetics from reengaging for fear of Ackerley being harmed. Well Genaine was ready to prove them wrong on both accounts, but not immediately. Even ai was aware that the group needed rest before they could consider any kind of counterattack. Still, that knowledge did not soothe air nervous energy, so while the others settled down check over their injuries and meditate, Genaine scouted the perimeter.
Ai had managed to convince Amicus, who also insisted on checking the surroundings, that they should split up in order to cover more ground. Perhaps there was merit to the concept of safety in numbers, but Genaine knew that Amicus lacked the resolve to properly deal with any potential attackers when Ackerley was on the line. What ai stumbled upon when exploring only served to justify air decision.
The dolostone figure was immediately recognizable, even when sprawled in the corner of crumbled ruin that cast looming shadows over the fiddleheads that framed the golem's face. "You're lucky this building collapsed outwards, Eli," Genaine chuckled. Ai squatted down and, brushing the ferns out of the eyes of air old friend, peered at ser face. "I can't very well leave you here now can I? Lucky for you I'm okay with dirtying myself, unlike your partner. Quaide would just as likely let you rot out here. But what was it kai said? It's a new world- we can't maintain our old way of life."
Genaine pulled away from Elisedd and stood up, brushing mortar from air boulders. The dust seemed determined to stay but no matter, Genaine could be just as stubborn. "What's say you and I play guess the word? Speak up if you object." Elisedd was, predictably, silent and Genaine nodded in a self-satisfied manner. "Now that I have your blessing let's begin. Clay. Pot. River. Willow-" And on and on Genaine went, well into the morning and the following day, and many days beyond that, slowly working air way towards Elisedd's word.
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hazilnut
Junior Member
Eager for our new journey
Posts: 52
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Post by hazilnut on Nov 11, 2019 22:10:54 GMT -8
10 - [Bridge; Repeat] The barn was the only building with a cellar so it was logically the building where they would put Ackerley. For long stretches of time the mechanic sat all alone in the dark damp earth, listening to the braying of Velox and occasional skittering of mice. Ackerley wasn't particularly scared of the dark or of cramped spaces but they desperately wished they were confined practically anywhere else. Without a window to the sky, it was impossible to judge time and thus determine how long they had been left alone. Had it been days since Hanna had last visited or did it just feel that long? The prospect of not knowing whether they had been left to starve in the dark scared Ackerley a lot more than the prospect of actually starving. At least if they knew they were left for dead they wouldn't be torture themself with false hope. But Hanna returned some unknowable time later, bearing an oil lamp and the same request as always.
“Give me a word Ackerley.”
“Traitor.”
Hanna glared. The mechanic refused to meet her gaze. Instead, Ackerley set their bruised jaw, squared their shoulders, and leaned back against the cold earthen wall. It wasn't possible to look intimidating when covered in the rotting purple and dingy mauve of bruises and dried blood, but at least they could appear to not be intimidated.
“A word with power,” Hanna repeated, stressing the 'power' as if Ackerley were some troublesome child who didn't understand the severity of the occasion.
“Screw you," they snapped back.
“One word. I’ll let you talk to Custos.” Conflict darkened Ackerley’s expression for a moment. They didn't believe anything that came out of Hanna's mouth, but the suggestion of being able to see Custos, to check on her and apologize for everything and promise it would be alright, was almost too much to bear. But then, if they did give in, how could they face Custos? Ackerley had already wronged her once by not thinking about the consequences of their actions, they couldn't do it again.
“One word: no.”
-
It had been nearly a week since victory, but for some reason success seemed to ring hollow. Ackerley refused to speak to Hanna when she brought them food and requests. They seemed to think that by not speaking at all they could avoid giving Hanna what she wanted to hear. Hanna had nearly forgotten what Ackerley's voice sounded like when it wasn’t twisted into worldless sobs.
She tried once more to get something, anything, out of them. “It doesn’t have to be a word. It can be a weapon. You can have your workshop back.”
She got no reply but silence. Fine. They’d try a different form of communication. Deborah was renowned for a reason.
-
Ackerley made weapons now: spears that delivered powerful electric shocks. Burns covered their hands from the work; eventually they remembered to wear gloves. Hanna had helped them move back into the workshop personally. Sometimes Ackerley needed help holding parts in place when tremors shook their body. Their soldering was no longer neat ridges like the ranks of trained soldiers, but rather wavy and haphazard like a civilian army. It held, but it wasn't ideal. Hanna helped them when it got too frustrating to watch, holding pipes and connecting wires. It felt hauntingly familiar to how they used to work. They even spoke a little.
“And because you have the power, you get to decide personhood?” Asked Ackerley one day when their conversation turned to the night attack as it always did.
“That’s right.” Hanna confirmed.
“And if someone else was in charge and said you weren’t a person anymore- then what would you do?”
“Then I’d take power from them.”
“What makes you right and them wrong?” There was heat to Ackerley's question, a rare occurrence. Usually they just sounded defeated or on the brink of tears. They met Hanna's eyes for the first time since the decisive night.
The warrior didn't manage to keep from shifting uncomfortably under the mechanic's unexpected stare. “I never said I was right.” She didn't care to elaborate, and so she didn't.
-
How strange it was that philosophy, Ackerley’s least favorite class and the dinner conversation which they would avoid at all costs, much to the disappointment of their father, was now their only respite. Debating with Hanna was like talking to a brick wall, but at least when this wall talked back Ackerley didn’t have to doubt their sanity.
Additionally, days when Hanna was present were often days when Deborah was not. Conversations with the old woman were a minefield, but even when Ackerley refused to step foot into the trapped land something beneath them would blow up. Ackerley didn't trust their ability to pick their way around the mines so they just took the inescapable. That way, at least, no one else would be harmed.
-
This time Hanna brought coffee, which Ackerley didn't touch. She asked if they wanted to go for a walk. Ackerley just kept fitting sheets of metal to one of their shoes, a brace for their swollen foot, until Hanna got the point.
Angry for reasons she couldn't put into words, Hanna tore the window shade from it's hangar and let the midday sunshine flood in, leaving Ackerley blinking and rubbing at their eyes. “Why do you choose to isolate yourself?" she snapped. "You were alone before, but you don’t have to be now.”
Ackerley clipped the set of shades they kept for welding over their glasses to cut the glare of the sun. “I wasn’t alone.”
“You were."
Ackerley flinched and nodded slightly to themself. “I-I was alone because of a mistake I made," they admitted, but their voice grew steely as they spoke. "I won’t make another and damn myself like you did.”
“Everything I’ve done has been for my family. I’m not alone.”
“Then why are you here so often?”
"I-" Hanna gaped like a fish for a few moments before shutting her mouth firmly. She seemed to consider her options before picking up both mugs of coffee and stomping out the door, leaving Ackerley alone again.
-
Nowadays only Hanna visited, and she only came once a day or so and only ever to bring supplies or ask again, in a tone that indicated she hadn't much hope of getting the answer she wanted, whether the mechanic was ready to cooperate. Mostly Ackerley was left alone. There was still something maddening about isolation, but at least without constant oversight they had more time to sabotage the weapons they made. It was a small rebellion: limiting the amount of current a spear could conduct before needing to charge again, making the wiring connections just haphazard enough that they'd occasionally come loose and render the whole thing useless, over-welding plates together so that uncomfortable ridges would dig into the user's hands.
Parts of the shoddy workmanship were not, however, intentional and could rather be attributed to the occasional tremors Ackerley suffered. It was because of one of these shaking sessions, along with other concerns such as the lack of glimpses of Custos they had been catching out their window, that Ackerley was awake when Lumina dropped in from the ceiling.
The robot had the foresight to announce themself verbally before suddenly appearing and causing Ackerley to drop dead on the spot of heart failure. Their whispered "Hey it's me! Lumina! Up here!" still frightened the mechanic though, as did the lowering of two bodies though that quickly became depressing rather than stressing.
"You were the one who- I mean Hanna told me I couldn't see the bodies but I assumed she was just-" Ackerley trailed off, gently brushing the tips of their burned fingers over the cold metal shells that had once housed their friends. They didn't have any tears left to cry or strength of voice left to shout so their sorrow just sat like a rock in their chest.
"I came back too late to help, but I was able to get Tonus and Princeps away while the humans were distracted. I've spent the last couple months trying to figure out where you and everyone else were. They have a camp now, in the north, they're doing okay."
Relief made Ackerley woozy and they had to sit back down. "Could you take me- oh." They glanced down at their still-swollen foot. Its angry red puffiness had eased over the past weeks but if Ackerley put any weight on it, they still felt as if their whole left side had burst into flames. "Could you take Custos?"
Lumina shook their head, horns buzzing lightly with energy. "Multiple extractions is too risky. Custos seems to be doing okay from what I've seen, maybe better than before since no one's trying to hurt her here." Not seeming to notice how Ackerley flinched at that comment, Lumina segwayed smoothly into their next bombshell. "Besides, you need the equipment here if you're going to fix everything."
"Fix everything?" Ackerley blinked dully at Lumina and then frowned, voice softening. "Lumina, you know they're gone don't you? I don't keep backups of AIs and even if I did I couldn't bring Tonus or Princeps back from that."
"I know that," Lumina responded tartly. They squatted down besides Princeps's body and pressed their head against the late head chief's chest cavity, motioning for Ackerley to do the same. As Ackerley awkwardly crouched and followed suit, Lumina remained silent for a moment for the mechanic could hear what they wanted them to: a faint ticking of cogs. Ackerley looked up at Lumina with amazement. "These guys have been with me for a while so I, well I took a look at them when I had a chance. Tonus's processor was destroyed but Princep's looked mostly intact? I'm not an expert but I figured you might be able to do something." The jerkiness of Lumina's shrugged betrayed that they weren't quite as level-headed about the whole situation as they were trying to play it off as.
Ackerley didn't even bother to try and hide the sudden hope that filled them. They were basically tripping over themself as they hobbled around, gathering the equipment and notes necessary to run a diagnostics check. Amicus was okay! Custos was okay! It was more than the mechanic had hoped, and now that they had allowed themself that hope, they weren't going to let Princeps slip away. "I'm going to bring you back," they promised Princep's still form as they hauled it onto the workbench alongside Tonus's fiddle. "I'm going to bring everyone back where they belong."
-
Deborah was plaiting rope when Adam approached her. The man still had his arm in a sling but the removal of the crossbow bolt from his shoulder had bolstered his mood back to its regular level of self-important smugness. It was really too bad, Deborah thought as Adam sat down besides her all obnoxious cracking of joints and loud sighs, that he had not yet shown any signs of infection. While she was not above orchestrating another's death, Adam simply wasn't worth the effort. If nature wouldn't do its damn job then Deborah supposed she would just have to endure.
Endure such comments as "Still nothing from the mad scientist huh? I expected more from the Orchestrator."
Deborah huffed and continued to twist twine into string and braid string into rope with practiced, deft movements. "That title is a misnomer. The only ones who orchestrated the war were politicians who couldn't stand not having everything their way."
A knowing smile spread across Adam's face as he shifted into a more comfortable position. "People like us just profited from it." Deborah made a noncommittal hmm-ing noise as she continued to pleat. It was only when Adam let out a low whistle and a droning laugh that she glanced up at him, interested in what gave him the idea that he had the upper hand. "I think I've figured it out."
"Pray tell what wonder you've discovered," prompted Deborah dryly.
"Why the kid didn't cry mommy and spill all his secrets the moment you walked through the door. You're going easy on him!"
"Oh? And why so?" Though she played it off easily, Deborah knew from Adam's growing grin that he had noticed her moment of hesitation. She hadn't actually expected anyone to call her bluff, though she supposed Adam had a much better understanding of her reputation and skill set than anyone else. She would almost be impressed if he wasn't so damn smug about the whole thing.
"The same reason you pulled your punches back in the war." Now Deborah's eyebrows upwards and she was forced to reexamine Adam and what she had believed him to be capable of. "If your side had won, you'd be out of a job at best and disposed of at worst. We're pretty similar, you and I. Everyone knows there's no use for arms dealers or commanders of martial espionage in peacetime, at least not the proper peacetimes everyone's so concerned about. Same goes for here. You get Hanna Ackerley's full cooperation and suddenly you aren't necessary anymore."
"Very astute," Deborah admitted. "Perhaps I've underestimated you."
"You should be more worried about underestimating Hanna. What happens if she figures out that you're playing her for a fool?"
The old woman flashed a winning smile of crooked yellow teeth. "A threat. How cute. But you're missing a crucial part of the puzzle, peacoat, Hanna and my goals are aligned. She doesn't want Ackerley badly hurt; every time she comes out of that workshop she looks wears this peculiar conflicted face."
"You think she's going to let him go?"
Deborah laughed at the very thought. "No. Her doubts won't mean anything in the long run. That girl has too much soldier in her to take an 'imperfect' peace." Adam joined in with his droning chuckle, pulling a small flask of brandy from inside his coat. He took a swig and then offered it to Deborah, who declined.
"To soldiers without a battlefield," the man cheered quietly. "May they always create their own."
-
Custos didn't recover. Yes, she had woken up the day after Ezekiel had beaned her over the head with a club and appeared to have only added another scar to her collection of dents and cracks, but that wasn't the kind of recovery that kept Rowan up at night just watching the robot's still form on the cot across the room. Custos always slept with her limbs tucked tight around her core. She spent most of the day in a similar position too.
"Come train with me," Rowan would ask her friend every morning, and each morning she wouldn't get a response. She could feel Custos's indifferent eyes watching as she changed and primed her weapon- now a real lance designed by Ackerley themself, preparing for morning lessons with Hanna. The robot's gaze still lingered on the small of Rowan's back when she finally gave up waiting at the doorway and left, locking the door behind her.
"What do you think of this dress?" she'd try again after coming back to change out of her sweaty workout clothes. The lighter exercises that Hanna had arranged for them to do so as to avoid aggravating injuries sustained in the battle weeks prior still had Rowan sweating through her clothes in a matter of hours. She would pull out grasshopper green gowns and cobalt blue shifts, rustling the eye-catching fabric in hopes of inspiring some reaction from Custos, but the robot would just roll onto her other side and stare at the wall.
"I heard Laila is making venison stew tonight. You should come with me to dinner so you can get some while its hot," elicited the same response as "I was talking to Zacchaeus earlier about you. He didn't believe me when I told him we had a robot with wings hanging around. I might bring him around tomorrow to see- that would be interesting right?": apathetic silence. The only thing that confirmed for Rowan that Custos was still, in fact, alive were the moments late at night when Rowan would awaken to the sound of her friend crying over a bowl of gelatinous soup. No tears fell from the robot's artificial eyes, but her shoulders shook with just as much violence as a human's would as she tried to muffle her wracking sobs.
Rowan was no longer sure she had done the right thing. This made her mad, a trait she shared with Hanna. She grew more reckless in her training, snapping half a dozen of Ackerley's shoddy spears in nearly as many days, and even snapped at Zeke on one occasion. He had wanted to know why he had to have his own room after twelve years of constantly having his family by his side.
"How come Hanna's sharing a room with Lucy instead of me?" Zeke had demanded. Rowan had struggled to find the words to quantify her cousin's relationship with Lucerne because it was a rather recent development she herself hadn't seen coming. And here Rowan had been thinking that Hanna always confided in her- the aftermath of the battle was supposed to mean they could be a proper family without fear of safety but instead the subsequent months had only highlighted the divisions in their piecemeal domesticity.
"They like each other very much, and when two adults like each other they sleep in the same room."
Zeke scowled and kicked at the dirt. "I know that! I'm not a kid." But despite his angry retort, Zeke's stomps gradually slowed to a dragging pace and his voice grew soft and squeaky. "But she's gotta like us better right? So why room with them instead of me?"
"You're being immature," Rowan snapped because she too had been thinking along the same lines and didn't like having the opinion voiced- it somehow made the whole thing more real. "Rooming doesn't have anything to do with liking better."
"Is that why you still room with Custos even though she hates you?
Rowan stopped crushing a clod of dry earth with the sole of her booth to shoot her brother a helpless look that quickly morphed into a glare that would wither the crops had they not already died under the summer heat. "Shut up and grow up. You're nearly twelve so stop getting up in other people's businesses to make a lame excuse as to why you can't sleep alone 'cuz you're still afraid of the dark." Immediately after barking them, Rowan regretted her words. Zeke's eyes filled with tears and his frowned wobbled with the force of keeping them from falling.
"You're mean! It's no wonder you can't even keep a stupid robot as a friend!" And that simple sentence cut Rowan far deeper than the hoe that Zeke flung down at her boot, which bit into the soft leather before rolling aside to stop in front of the dried husk of a blackberry bush.
-
At first, when the lock clicks and the door swings open, Custos doesn't bother to turn around and see who entered. The desire for self preservation that had motivated Custos ever since Genaine's attempt on her life two years ago had abandoned her months ago, now she no longer cared if the squeak of the door heralded Rowan returning to try yet again to coax her out for sparring or the vengeful ghost of Genaine there to finish the job. As it turned out, the answer was neither.
"Custos?" came a familiar lilting mechanical voice that was momentarily rendered unrecognizable by the tone of concern that Custos had never heard enter Lumina's speech before. But when the robot turned around, there the petite scout stood, real enough to reach out and tap Custos between the eyes. "Boop!"
"L-lumina I-" Custos winced at how grating her voice was from weeks of disuse. Lumina's horns hummed as they caught the vibrations, almost sounding like soft laughter. "You're alive! Is everyone else-"
"Okay," Lumina confirmed without their usual crypticness. "Except for Tonus. They didn't make it." The scout fell silent to allow Custos to process the information which she did by swinging her legs over the side of the cot and attempting to stand for the first time in a week. She almost immediately feel forward and Lumina had to surge forwards to catch her.
"Thanks," Custos breathed as they clung to Lumina, "My balance calibrators got damaged when Zeke hit me, I think. But everyone is alive? And safe? Besides- besides Tonus I mean." A lump formed in Custos's throat just at saying their name. The fiddler had been an odd one but they had helped Custos to sing when she never thought she would again. But for everyone else to be alive? She had long since given everyone she knew up for dead, except for herself and Ackerley who she viewed as walking corpses anyways. It was as if her core had started pulsing again after months of silence.
"They have a camp in the north. I can't take you," they added before Custos could ask. "Even if your balance was perfect I couldn't take you. We'd be leaving Ackerley and Princeps to the mercy of the humans unless we all left together, and that's impossible given the current state of things."
"Princeps is with Ackerley?"
:Lumina nodded and flexed their nonexistent muscles, drawing a rusty laugh from somewhere inside Custos that she had forgotten about. "Brought them to the workshop myself. Ackerley will fix them up and then they'll fix everything." Sensing Custos's guarded hope, Lumina helped her sit back down on the cot and squatted down so they could look up into her eyes with all six of their own. "We will fix everything. We already have a plan, we just need faith."
Custos shuddered but nodded. "Okay. I can do that. What else do I have but hope?"
-
How quickly the world changes, Quaide thought to kemself whenever kai had a moment to rest. Such moments were less frequent now as most waking hours were spent gathering food or tending to the wounded. Constantly keeping an eye out for potential human threats afforded little time for feeling sorry for oneself. Perhaps it was this inability to get stuck inside keir head that was enabling Quaide to finally see things for how they were. Strangely, kai felt as if kai was paying more attention to the world now that kai was constantly busy than when kai had the time to sit and observe.
Quaide noticed, for the first time, a multitude of little things. How Aoife always looked directly at Amicus during group discussions over future plans and potential allies, even if someone else was talking. How, in strange contrast, Amicus was almost never looking in Aoife's direction but constantly scanning everyone else. That they always positioned themself just a little bit in front, between the golem and whoever fa was speaking to. How the warrior never took both hands off the pommel of their sword, even when sleeping, which they did infrequently and while standing up, except for when they and Aoife were alone and deep in conversation.
Kai noticed, too, how Cultor had been gradually slowing down as dirt and detritus worked itself into the robot's joints and stayed there because there was no Ackerley to thoroughly clean them. How Keiran was by eir mentor's side almost always, offering support even as ei emself limped. That in the few moments when Keiran wasn't glued to Cultor, ei was asking Elisedd about eir parents and hanging on every word. How Elisedd's words weren't words as kai had come to understand them over the past few years.
It had taken Quaide a few days to realize that keir partner still spoke the old tongue, the kind that earthquakes and landsides sung in- meaningless to modern fleshy species but as natural as the force ebbing in their stones to the beings of earth. When Elisedd had emerged from the past where Quaide had resigned to burying sem, kai had been too filled with indescribable joy and wonder to look any deeper into why ser voice sounded like home- was it not enough that it was keir name in Elisedd's rumble? A rumble Quaide had resigned kemself to never hearing again? Elisedd could have spoken dragon for all Quaide cared.
Only after the exhilaration of Elisedd's return had dulled from a coursing river to an ambling stream and Aoife and Quaide were working to fill sem in on what had happened did Quaide learn of the language barrier. Amicus had wanted to know what was being conversed because the rumbles of the three golems had meant nothing to them. A check in with Cultor confirmed the robots' inability to understand Elisedd and Quaide finally recognized the language kai had slipped into so easily kai hadn't noticed the shift.
Genaine thought it was because Elisedd had woken up the proper, natural way with no humans involved- only aim. That was another thing Quaide had noticed- no matter the occasion, Genaine was always lurking in the background.
"How exactly did sa wake up again?" Aoife had asked when Genaine had proposed the theory one night as the synthetics huddled around a dead fire pit. It was a perfectly cloudless night, and everyone had agreed to only light fires during overcast weather to limit the chances of the humans seeing the smoke. There was accusation threaded into feir otherwise innocent question, which Quaide only recognized after having been on the receiving end of it for a half-century.
"As I told you, I was patrolling the area when I came across Elisedd's body in one of the ruins. As I approached, ser horns started glowing and sa woke up," Genaine responded with the patronizing air of one talking down to a child while trying to make it seem like one was not, in fact, talking down. Ai spoke pretty much entirely in the old tongue after the discovery, for reasons Quaide hoped went beyond ostracizing Cultor and Amicus. Kai had grown surprisingly fond of the pair of robots over the past month or so of being forced into perpetual close quarters with them.
Quaide tried to calm Aoife's skeptical glower by adding placidly "This is a good thing. If the others are waking up naturally then we don't have to worry about Ackerley knowing everyone's words." A familiar awkward silence descended over the crowd at the mention of the mechanic's name, but Quaide felt even worse about mentioning the whole thing when the silence was broken.
"They've certainly sold us out at this point, if they didn't leap at the opportunity as soon as we were out of earshot," Genaine gnashed in the modern tongue just to make air displeasure wider known.
"Genaine." But Aoife's gaze was firmly on Amicus, who from Quaide's perspective appeared as just as stoic as ever, rather than the golem fa scolded.
"Ai has a point," Keiran mumbled miserably, flashing under the sudden weight of Aoife's attention. "I don't mean they wanted to betray us," ei amended quickly, "but we have no idea what's going on back at home! Ackerley could be- I mean it's possible that they're- I mean-" the golem trailed off, unwilling to put into words what all feared.
"Dead?" The voice came not from around the ashy pit but from up in the trees. Out from the darkness dropped Lumina, waving their empty hands in surrender before any of the on-edge synthetics could slice them through. "Ackerley's not dead. I saw them myself earlier today."
"Lumina! You're okay!"
"Better than okay actually," the scout replied with a hint of smugness. "I'm the hero! Put those frowns away for another day fellas and gather around. Ackerley, Custos, and I have a plan, concocted by yours truly, and we need your help to put it into action. We're going to get our home back."
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hazilnut
Junior Member
Eager for our new journey
Posts: 52
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Post by hazilnut on Nov 28, 2019 1:42:04 GMT -8
12 - Crescendo The warrior wouldn't be a replacement for Tonus, that Ackerley had decided when still in the designing phase- a series of stolen moments of scrawling on paper in between weapons work and the more pressing private project of repairing Princeps. Ackerley was thankful for the perpetual mess of their workshop that made it incredibly easy to hide two and half bodies that would stick out like a sore thumb anywhere else. No, they had promised to the growing steel skeleton that they would not be a walking corpse. Not after Custos. It was difficult, though, to keep their mind off Tonus, and Ackerley imagined it still would be even if the fiddler's body wasn't stashed in the closet under several drape cloths, so the mechanic stopped trying to fight the memories or scrape green paint off of scrap metal. Instead, with the now groggily-awake Princep's encouragement, they picked up a pot of magenta paint and added flowers: daisies, roses, lilies- everything they couldn't see from their window but desperately wanted to glimpse once again. Everything they wanted this new being to see. Everything Tonus had died to protect.
"Tell me if its silly," Ackerley had asked of Princeps one late night when they felt secure enough in the safety of the new moon to invite the head chief to view the fully assembled body of what would hopefully be their salvation. "Or weird or ill-thought, but I was thinking of naming them Voluntas. It means wish or desire and occasionally last will. Is that a morbid name?" They asked so tentatively, as if their words might break something, that Princeps took especially long to choose their words.
"I think," they whirred, "that Voluntas is a good name. You are not naming them for a loss but rather for a possibility. Voluntas. Yes, I think it's a very good name."
--
Ackerley's knuckles were sore and raw under the cold metal rings. What appetite had returned over the past few months ever since Lumina had visited, stress had eagerly stolen. Princep's solemn remark of "It's time" that morning hadn't been necessary; Ackerley had already been counting down the days to when Lumina said the synthetics had arranged to meet with the humans. They had awoken with their stomach twisted in squirming knots and the looming knowledge that however the day panned out, the future of Mekhanikos would be decided before the sun set.
"It will be okay." Ackerley looked over to find Princeps lifting up the sheet they hid under just enough so they could look across the room at the mechanic and fix them with their most reassuring eye-less stare. Ackerley smiled wanly and stopped sliding the metal guards on and off of their fingers.
"I appreciate the sentiment, Princeps. I just wish I knew you were saying it because you believed it and not just to coddle me,"
"Who said anything about coddling you?" replied Princeps cryptically. But before Ackerley could ask what they meant by that they heard the sound of footsteps on brittle grass. Princeps quickly let the sheet settle back over their now still form and Ackerley stood to face the opening door.
Hanna stood in the doorway, one of the spears Ackerley had designed by her side. She looked thinner than Ackerely remembered her being, paler too. Her bruises from the night's attack so many months ago had healed and faded, but something else had also faded. Her eyes were nervous, darting around the room before fixing on Ackerley, who stood tall in the middle of it all the clutter. "You've heard then?" Her voice was steady with a slight accusing lilt. Her hands tightened around the bumpy shaft of her spear.
Ackerley's flinch was genuine. It was difficult to keep their voice from shaking as they stuttered out an "I don't know what you mean?" Whether Hanna bought their ignorance or not they didn't know, but either way she strode inside and grabbed them roughly by the arm and marched them out of the workshop.
They blinked owlishly in the harsh sunlight, stumbling just as much from a lack of depth perception as their lame foot as Hanna pushed them onward. She didn't give the mechanic any time to regain their footing, just half-dragged them along the road towards the watchtower. Ackerley was able to snatch small glimpses of the scenery during the march: the half-rebuilt shell of the building where the golems used to stay, the curious eyes of a heavily pregnant woman and a boy who looked much like her as they watched the sorry parade, the fields that were Keiran and Cultor's pride and joy now more full of weeds and wilted scrub than crops. But there was no time for them to process yet again all that had been lost with Hanna pulling them towards the group of humans gathered behind a barricade on the road.
Lucerne waved Hanna over to where they and Rowan were kneeling behind a collection of overturned crates and chairs. Their armor glinted in the sun, as did their skin- wearing so much metal in the middle of summer could not be pleasant. "Any sign of them?" Hanna demanded once she and Ackerley were by the soldier's side. Lucerne gave a stiff-necked shake of their head.
"Nothing yet. Deborah thinks the representatives will be here before noon though."
"They'll be here within the hour," the old woman confirmed. Deborah sat on one of the chairs in the barricade, loading bolts into her crossbow as she scanned the forest outskirts for movement. Her wool sweater seemed bulkier than it should be, and when she shifted Ackerley caught sight of the leather breastplate she had fitted on underneath.
"What's the plan for when they do show?" Rowan piped up anxiously.
"Then we hear what they have to say-"
"-and put an end to the threat as we should have a year ago," finished Adam with an all too easy smirk for a man with one arm still in a sling. Ackerley could feel the eagerness for a fight radiating off of him- it was sickening. They tried to shift slightly away from Adam but Hanna's grip was tight. She twisted the mechanic's forearm with such force they couldn't help the small whimper that escaped them.
Hanna quickly shut down Adam's grating bark of laughter. She turned to look at the hunched Ackerley, the height she had appeared to regain upon meeting up with her compatriots gone once more. "Last chance. Give us the golems' words and we can end this without a fight." Though Hanna's grip on their arm was still painful, Ackerley was able to meet her gaze evenly. They were scared, petrified even- they'd be a fool not to be, but they were not scared of her. They were not scared of this little girl so caught up in playing soldier and savior that she didn't realize that she was the one bringing war. Perhaps Ackerley pitied her, but pity was an emotion that could only be afforded to those out of stabbing range, so they concentrated on steely resentment and resolution.
"May your true self ever wander the earth," Ackerley spat. Before Hanna could reply verbally or physically, Rowan gave a cry of alarm and gestured to to forest where the outlines of Cultor and Amicus emerged.
"Hold your fire," ordered Lucerne, not that anyone needed telling when Adam was one arm short of hoisting any weapon. "State your business!" they demanded of the approaching synthetics, stamping the butt of their spear on the ground to draw attention to the fact that they were the one in possession of power in the situation.
Watching their friends approach the proverbial wyvern's den unarmed and outnumbered made Ackerley's heart catch in their chest. Fear for Cultor and Amicus's safety warred with pure excitement at seeing them for the first time in over a year. Only Hanna's fingertips digging into their skin kept Ackerley from fidgeting with nervous energy. Cultor spoke for the pair, shouting to be heard from where they had stopped, ten yards away from the barricade. "We have come as promised to discuss terms." Without their sunhat and hoe, the robot seemed especially small and fragile. How they limped when moving didn't help the impression of weakness.
Hanna had regained her voice, and as she spoke she pulled Ackerley deliberately closer. "The only terms we are interested in hearing are the terms of your surrender."
"Which are?"
"Unconditional but not unfair. Surrender now and all of your party will remain alive and intact. The golems will surrender their words, the robots will agree to a reprogramming by Ackerley to limit their free will. We can live in harmony."
Cultor exchanged glances with Amicus. "A generous offer," they buzzed in their monotone way. "But we'll have to pass. Are you certain there are no other ways to resolve this peacefully?" Amicus had turned to face the woods as Cultor continued to speak with the humans, the armored robot's face plate flashing a dull series of red lights that could not be seen by the blockade-dwellers behind them.
"No. You abandoned your right to peaceful exile by returning. Troop- ready positions!" With one arm Hanna pulled Ackerley into a choke hold, with the other she signaled the gathered humans to ready their weapons. Rather than aim her crossbow at Cultor, Deborah dropped her sights and whirled around to look at Hanna, the wrinkles around her eyes forming large O's as they widened.
"Hanna wait-"
Before Deborah could issue her warning, Ackerley twisted their chin towards Hanna's armpit and slammed the side of their skull into her nose, hard. Taking advantage of the soldier's momentary shock, they grabbed Hanna's arm with both hands and pried themself free just as Lumina had them practice over and over. They elbowed her in the chest and, using their momentum, twisted Hanna's arm around her back. The flick of a switch activated their bronze knuckles, which began to hum as they warmed up. Ackerley drove their fist into the base of Hanna's neck, sending her reeling and leaving a large red welt where steaming metal came into contact with flesh.
Hanna recovered in about as much time as it had taken Ackerley to execute their escape but they had successfully winded her, and surprised her allies, for long enough that they were able to fling themself over the barricade and start crawling away, ribs smarting from a sharp blow from the corner of a chair. Amicus had covered the distance to Ackerley and scooped them up before Deborah could get off a shot from her crossbow. The bolt thudded into the non-vital metal of Amicus's back.
From the forest, other shapes began to appear. Keiran, Quaide, Aoife, and a golem Ackerley didn't recognize came barreling out of the trees armed with working versions of the weapons Ackerley had made for the humans. Aoife tossed Amicus their sword and the robot caught it with the hand they weren't cradling Ackerley with.
"Sit tite." Amicus set Ackerley down gently at the forest's edge, hovering for just a few moments to make sure the human was unharmed.
"Thanks for coming back for me," Ackerley gasped, still winded from both the activity and excitement of their escape.
"Of corse I came bak. I luv u. C u after I take our home bak." And with that tender buzz Amicus whirled back around to join the fray. Almost immediately they locked blades with Hanna, who had been lining up her spear for a strike at an Aoife who was engaged with Lucerne. "Don't touch fem!" they screeched, the sound causing Hanna to spin around and set her sights on Amicus instead. Despite their dramatic entrance, Hanna still had the upper hand over Amicus. The robot was unable to get close enough to strike at Hanna with the barricade between them, but the reach of the human's spear allowed her to retaliate. A slight shock ran through Amicus as Hanna's spear glanced off their breastplate, but the electricity feature Ackerley had designed did not deliver nearly the punch it should have and neither did the softer than normal tip of the spear. Amicus shrugged off the blow and pushed forwards into the barricade, shouldering crates out of the way. Doing so left the robot vulnerable and Hanna's next strike was clean, catching Amicus in the jaw. They staggered, disoriented, but righted themself in time to redirect the next attack with their blade so that it only swiped their shoulder. Suddenly Hanna surged forwards, collapsing against the blockade.
"Need some help?" quipped Lumina easily, spinning the wrench they had struck Hanna with as if they weren't in the midst of a fight for their life. Reality quickly ensued as the scout had to duck and flip out of the way of Lucerne's attacks. The soldier had driven Aoife back and was now covering Hanna's flank as she recovered. "Voluntas, Princeps- now would be a great time for reinforcements!" the robot yelled as they scurried away from Lucerne.
---
At the other end of the barricade, Keiran and Cultor were working in tandem to push back Rowan. Both were armed with their familiar hoes, retrieved by Lumina at some point during the past month. Rowan, though well trained, was slipping under the dual pressure. She was unable to land a clean shot while avoiding being caught in the skull by a weaponized farming implement. Cutlor was in the midst of prying a chair out of the barricade when a rock hit them squarely in the forehead, sending them staggering back a few steps. The bright red hair of Ezekiel distinguished the boy as he popped out from his hiding place to slingshot another pebble at Keiran. It thudded into the golem's clay body and stuck there, but ei winced under the force of the impact.
"You're going to hurt something with that thing," Cultor chided the boy.
Keiran grunted as another stone lodged itself in eir cheek. "I think that's the point!"
"You need to get away from my sister!"
"And you need to get away from my friends!" A familiar feathered figure that Keiran had not noticed approach, grabbed Ezekiel around the waist from behind and hauled the flailing boy off of his feet.
"Zeke!" Rowan broke from her position to rush after her brother, leaving a gap in the defenses for Keiran and Cultor to work on clambering through. The young warrior turned her lance on Custos, whose ragged scarlet wings caught the noon light and cast translucent red shadows across Rowan's face. "Put him down, he's just a kid!" Fear warbled Rowan's voice. She glanced around desperately for Hanna, only to find her engaged in combat with a number of robots, too far away to help. This was her worst nightmare come true.
"I need to know-" Custos winced as Ezekiel thrust his heels into her shins but she did not drop him. "I need to know why. Why did you do this to us, to me?" Between the clear defeat in her voice and how her arms trembled, not only under the weight of Ezekiel, Rowan knew that Custos was not a threat to her brother. The realization banished fear and another, more complicated, emotion took its place.
She gaped openly at Rowan, barely aware of the enemies pushing their way through the barricade. The lance in her hands, her first real lance and yet such a cheap trinket- already twisted and broken, suddenly seemed extremely heavy. What was there to say when all the choices, maybe wrong and maybe right, had already been made? "Because I needed to protect what I love." Her answer seemed to drain Custos of certainty. Ezekiel finally kicked his way free just in time for Keiran and Cultor to be upon Rowan, hoes in hand. This time, without a barricade to provide cover, Rowan was at a significant disadvantage, but she pulled her brother behind her and faced all three foes head on.
---
This was not how this battle was supposed to end. After the hoe-wielding maniacs had breached the barricade, their companions quickly followed. Now it was the humans, including Adam, who found themselves pressed up against a wall. Adam had switched out his knife for a reinforced baton that he swung brashly at the ghost of the robot he had killed himself. "You're supposed to be dead," he snarled at Princeps.
"And you're supposed to be the most dangerous mob boss to cross. Seems rumors of both of our positions have been grossly overstated."
"If I can't fix mine, I can at least fix yours!" Adam lunged at his attacker, cracking his baton against the approaching robot's side. It winced, but the one-armed swing hadn't had enough power behind it to dent metal or break circuitry. Scambling backwards, out of range of Princeps' hammer, Adam tried to maintain control over the situation even as his back brushed against the rough hewn wall of the watchtower. There was nowhere left to go, save turning his back to a dangerous enemy and running through the raging battleground. But Adam still had his words. "You really think you can take me out? Maybe I was wrong- you're not a filing cabinet or a ghost, you're an aberrant! That mad scientist has gone and made the instruments of his own demise. An undead killer. Untrustworthy. That's what you'd be."
The pathwork robot paused, hammer still and resting in both hands. It looked at Adam with a blank face; he imagined it hanging its head slightly in defeat. Then the creature spoke in it's ticking voice. "You really don't think before you speak. I can't say I'm surprised given I've never seen you think before you act either. Monologue, pollute this air with your lies if you wish. You have no sway over anyone here." The robot hefted its weapon and Adam's eyes filled with fear, darting around for any promise of aid. He locked gaze with Deborah, perched partway up the watchtower and shooting down at a silver golem. She smiled at him, a placid simpering smile, and turned away. Adam was completely alone.
"Now hold on we can come to some understand-" A heavy thud and an awful crack and Adam didn't speak anymore.
---
"What of the wandering earth is going on here?" When Laila had whisked her family out of city it had been to escape the civil war, maybe find a nice homestead to tend where she could Zacchaeus the appeal of country living. The last thing she had intended was to put her son and unborn child in danger again because some adults wanted to solve their problems with their fists. Laila wasn't stupid, she knew that there was something definitely wrong with Mekhanikos from the very beginning, when Lucerne had warned her away from the building where an important political prisoner was being held. No, Laila wasn't dumb and she wasn't deaf, but she could block the screams out well enough, at least until Victoria could meet up with them. As soon as her sister arrived Laila had planned to hightail it for another more stable village, but talk of meetings and possible clashes between Mekhanikos and a group of synthetic beings had forced her to move her plan forwards. And then Zach just had to know what was going on.
The scene she found was as gruesome as any that had painted the streets of Neomiltis and Laila's heart was lodged firmly in her throat. The crumpled body by the watchtower wasn't her son's. He wasn't one of the children surrounded by towering steel figures. Hanna's desperate cries as she wailed against solid stone with the broken end of a spear weren't yet Laila's own. If Zach wasn't yet lying dead in the street then where was he?
"Mama!" The scream that made Laila's blood run cold came from within the watchtower. Zach's face, drained of blood and contorted in fear, peaked out from a window higher up the tower. Two beings of rock were throwing themselves at the base of the building, causing it to shake and crack. Zach's sharp cry of terror was echoed by by a grunt of effort from Deborah, who had nearly been shaken off her perch on the tower.
"Zach! Stay right there! I'll be right there!" How she planned on doing so, Laila didn't end up having to figure out. Upon hearing her cry out, one of the rock creatures stopped flinging itself at the watchtower and turned it's attention to her. Suddenly all Laila could see was a wall of speckled grey stone dotted with curling fiddlehead ferns as the being leered over her and let out a wordless roar. She scrambled backwards but, unbalanced by the swollen melon of her belly, tripped and landed hard on her back. Breath stolen by the impact, Laila could only choke out the shape of "I love you," before she squeezed her eyes shut to her imminent demise.
But the bone-crushing impact never came. Instead, another wordless rumble of stone against stone caused the creature to stop mid-swing. It called back, confusion clear even though its speech was so far removed from human; the sound was as unnatural as if a rockslide had stopped tumbling when it was half-way down the mountain. Another crash answered it, from a different being than the one that had halted Laila's attacker, it's sub-words were brisk and raspy and inflammatory. But Laila's attacker had already pulled away. She opened one eye to find the being of rock that had previously blotted out the sky had compressed itself and now looked down at her with a gaze that was almost concerned. The crystalline horns on its head pulsed softly.
"I sorry," it rasped out in a rough approximation of human words. "I think not composer you. Child?" It pointed at Laila's stomach and she nodded stiffly, still not sure what was going on. "Child too?" This time Laila nodded faster as the rock creature pointed up at the trembling, splotchy-faced Zach.
"My son. Please, we don't have anything to do with your fight."
"You're humans. That's eno-" The raspy voice was cut off as it's owner, a creature of black stone, was struck by one of Deborah's bolts. It let out another wordless cry and rammed into the tower, sending it shaking to its foundation. Zach screamed as splintered boards began to rain down; Laila's terror-struck cry echoed her son's as the tower began to sway and twist dangerously. The rock creature who had just been about to kill her now shielded Laila's body with its own, letting shingles and mortar bounce harmlessly off of its back. When it stood up again, Laila could just make out through the dust a darker grey being of stone propping up the tower with flickering strength. Besides it, a body in a wine-red sweater lay splayed at an awkward angle, but Zach still clung to the central pole of the watchtower.
"Down the stairs," rumbled the stone creature weakly. "Hurry!" Zach did as he was instructed with one last rabbit-eyed glance at his mother, disappearing into the center of the tower. Laila's heart jumped once more as the being of black stone leaned against the tower, but instead of crashing into it the creature took some of the weight off of its fellow. The being that had stood over Laila followed suit and helped hold the tower steady, the magical energy that kept its boulders together reaching out to hold the tower as well. Laila's heart didn't stop thrumming in her chest until Zach's face, pale from both terror and mortar dust, peaked out of the door. The boy barreled out the tower and crashed into his mother, nearly knocking her over once more. He clung to her like he was once again five years old and desperate not to leave on the first day of school. Laila held him tight in turn, planting a hard kiss on his forehead, his cheek, his nose- anywhere and everywhere she could reach to assure herself that he was here and he was safe. She wasn't sure which of them was shaking more.
"Thank you," she was finally able to gasp out to the creatures who had saved her son. "Thank you so much."
---
Viewing it from the other end of the fight, the result seemed inevitable.The synthetics had the numbers, the weapons, the surprise, and the righteous fury. This didn't stop Ackerley from being giddily weak-kneed shocked when Hanna collapsed to her knees, hands bare above her head. The mechanic had limped over as soon as the sounds of conflict had stopped, only to fall right back into Amicus's bone-crushing hug. The robot swung them around and Ackerley let out a high-pitched laugh that bordered on tears.
"/You're safe!/" sang the warrior, screeching keen as sweet as any melody.
"You're here! We're here! We're free!" Ackerley had to lean on Amicus for support after they set them down, dizzy from both the spinning and shock of survival. They watched their other friends share similar embraces. Keiran practically tossed Cultor in the air, only letting them down when they cried mercy for their joints. The farmer pulled Princeps into a hug and then turned to introduce themself to Voluntas, one arm still over the head chief's shoulder. Aoife wrapped Keiran up and held em tight, both golems' horns glowing brilliantly. Quaide and Elisedd watched from the side, contentedly entangled. Genaine wore air characteristic grimace but it softened when Elisedd reached out and squeezed air force.
A dull pain in their arm brought Ackerley's attention quickly to Lumina, who had gotten close enough to slug them in the shoulder without their knowing. "Ow," they complained, the impact somewhat lessened by the fact that they couldn't stop grinning.
"Nice job out there," praised Lumina. "Looks like all that practice paid off."
"Thanks. I had a good teacher."
"The best," the corrected. "Don't worry. We'll make a spy of you yet."
Ackerley wasn't entirely sure if that was a compliment or a threat, but their concern over what Lumina was planning had to be put on pause when Aoife approached. "Oh Aoife," they stuttered out. They had spent so much time in the workshop thinking of things to say but now that they had the chance, Ackerley's mind was completely blank. "I never got to say how sorry I-" Before Ackerley could trip over their words any more, Aoife pulled them into a hug. The golem's force was a warn and the slightest bit ticklish, like the hum of electricity through a copper wire. When they finally broke apart, Aoife was glowing softly.
"I forgive you."
"I-" Ackerley started to say something but then stopped, lips closing to form a soft smile. "Thank you."
---
In the time it had taken Aoife and Ackerley to have their brief, but no less important, heart to heart, Custos had been dragged into Amicus's fussing. "I'm okay," she promised as Amicus traced the new dent in her skull. "Really. I'm just really glad you're here."
"How's she doing?" Custos stiffened under Aoife's voice. She stared at the ground like an abashed child as Amicus updated Aoife on her status, until finally her curiosity grew too big and she looked up at the golem whose force ran through her. The same soft light that Custos knew intimately, pulsed in Aoife's antlers. "Hey," rumbled the golem, and Custos took comfort in the fact that she wasn't the only one who felt incredibly awkward.
"Hey," she replied.
Amicus looked back and forth between their apprentice and their friend. "We fot a war n al u cn say 's hey?" The robot shook their head but Custos got the distinct impression they were smiling, which coaxed a small smile out of her in turn.
"Give us a bit," she protested. "We did fight a war."
"We have plenty of time to figure things out. But, well now's as good a time as any I suppose." Custos traced Aoife's gaze back to where it lingered on fer family. Quaide was talking civilly with a woman who was presumably Laila, something Custos never would have imagined happening. Seeing a human, though not hostile, sent a shiver down Custos's back and reminded her that their work wasn't finished,
"Maybe not now, now though. We still have clean up to do."
---
They had marched the surviving humans, save Laila and Zacchaeus, to where the forest bled out into the plains. Genaine hadn't been happy with Ackerley's decision, arguing that they should save themselves the trouble of a future threat by eliminating the humans now, but ai were overruled. Most everyone was tired of fighting, even Hanna who stewed in silence the entire journey and made no attempts to break through the flimsy escort guard. She held Ezekiel and Rowan close as Princeps announced their face, staring past them directly at Ackerley. The mechanic, leaning against Amicus, kept their eyes on Princeps.
"Hanna. Lucerne. Rowan. Ezekiel. As you have tried to do to us, now we in turn bring down on you. You are to leave Mekhanikos lands and all surrounding territories. If we see one of you again, well no one has any interest in holding Genaine back."
The golem in question laughed. "As if you could."
Ignoring aim, Princeps continued. "You are no longer welcome here. Leave and don't come back." Custos strode forwards to cut the human's bonds, brushing off Amicus's attempts to help. She hovered for a moment over Rowan, glancing up at the woman who refused to meet her gaze, staring only at Hanna. Then, with one quick movement, Custos cut Rowan's ropes and the humans were freed. With one last solemn stare, Hanna rubbed her wrists and grabbed one of Ezekiel and Rowan's hands each. She didn't look back, not even once. Not even when Ackerley opened their mouth to say something and then closed it again, unable to.
"I wanted to say goodbye," the would tell Amicus later. "In the way that my countrymen do. But I couldn't bring myself to do it. I don't know if I'm angry, or sad, or just tired honestly, but I do know why I couldn't say goodbye like that. I share no culture with them anymore. My home is here with you."
---
"Always early to the party, huh Mochan?" Genaine leaned over the still body of the golem Amicus and Lumina had returned with a few days ago. Ai, with the support of Elisedd and Quaide, had convinced the others that Ackerley should not try and guess Mochan's word but rather they should first try exposing mem to other golems since that had been what brought Elisedd back. Genaine was by Mochan's side pretty often, but the golem still got meir fair share of visitors that limited the long stretches of uninterrupted time Genaine needed to put air plan into action.
Ai patted the golem's cheek, glowing affectionately. "Look at me, spending precious time talking to your shell when I could be bringing the whole you back. We really don't have that much time you know. If anything, dealing with those humans only makes the importance of my mission more obvious. No time for moral stipulations when the other side's proven to have none." Genaine hummed to aimself, an odd murky sound unlike Keiran's high pitched ringing or any of the other golems' unique vibrations. "What're the odds you're a bird, huh Lark? Well let's catch some worms."
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hazilnut
Junior Member
Eager for our new journey
Posts: 52
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Post by hazilnut on Dec 1, 2019 1:10:02 GMT -8
12 - Second Verse Same as the First "You're amazing you know?" Cultor had remarked. "When I thought I had lost Keiran I was a wreck for days, yet here you are, dragging this village back into working order after two years of being incapacitated." The farmer's tone indicated that they had meant it as a compliment, but Princeps felt no glow of pride upon hearing it.
"Thanks it's a facade," they responded dryly, not looking up from the papers they were transcribing. When the silence dragged on, Princeps realized what they had said aloud and quickly backtracked. "Sorry, bad joke."
Cultor had set down their basket of hopniss to come stand over Princeps's desk, forcing the head chief to either look up at them or act like there wasn't a large shadow obscuring their work. "In all my years of knowing you I have never heard you make a joke, bad or otherwise."
Realizing that any objection they might raise regarding their sense of humor would be unsupported, Princeps sighed and set down their pen. "I'm old, Cultor, or at least I feel like I am. I don't have much opportunity for large displays of emotion, even if I were so inclined."
"So am I," Cultor shot back. They brushed a few papers off of a chair and dragged it over so that they could sit eye-to-eye with Princeps. Settling in with the loud creaking of unoiled joints, they looked over at their friend expectantly. "I'm not asking you to break down crying, I just want to know what's up. If you tell me it's nothing I won't believe you, but I will leave you alone."
Princeps was silent for a spell, but when they finally spoke it wasn't to ask Cultor to leave. "Maybe this will make no sense, or maybe you're the only other person in the world who can understand. You know how when you're out, you're still sort of aware? It's like you're in a room with a thin enough wall that you can almost hear what's happening in the next room over." They waited for Cultor to nod before continuing. "I was aware in that way the whole time. I heard Tonus die, the building collapse, Ackerley wailing when everyone was forced out. Lumina hid Tonus and I in the crawlspace under the workshop and I lay there in the dark, pressed up against a corpse and hearing everything that went on above, for nearly a year. Adam scrambled my processors badly enough that I couldn't really understand what was happening but I still knew that Tonus was dead and that Ackerley was very, very hurt and that I could do absolutely nothing about it." Throughout their story, Princeps's tone was perfectly level, but the several long pauses before more troubling bits betrayed the subject's difficulty.
Cultor took one of their friend's trembling hands in their own and squeezed it tight. "I understand, and I'm sorry," was all they said. The pair simply sat in silence for a long stretch of time, drawing comfort from each others' presence. A heavy weight still sat on Princeps's conscience, but ignoring it was possible so long as they were leaning against Cultor.
---
Playing happy family with Amicus and Aoife was still weird to Custos, especially since she wasn't actually sure what the dynamic was. Was she technically Aoife's daughter? Did that make Quaide her grand-composer? Ackerley wasn't her dad- that would make them everyone's dad and that would be weird. The fact that Amicus and Aoife weren't officially together, though they were definitely together, only made everything more confusing. Custos should really just stop trying to equate her relationships back to human concepts of families, especially since doing so inevitably made her think of Rowan and caused her heart to start aching on top of her already pounding head. Familiarity was doing its due diligence though and Custos was no longer quite so surprised when Aoife inserted femself into most parts of her daily routine.
Just past dawn Amicus would drag Custos out of bed for early morning warm up. The first few weeks after the deciding battle between humans and synthetics, Amicus had let their apprentice set her own routine and decide if she felt up to training on any given day. They had shut her down fast, though, when it became clear that Custos was using the time for moping rather than recovering. Left undirected, she had gone back to spending all day in bed, this time imprisoned by her own mind rather than any enemies. Being forced to spend hours hacking and striking at training dummies from the moment the sun came up probably wouldn't have helped everyone out of their funk, but the routine and continuous motion did wonders for Custos. While she wasn't initially thrilled at Aoife joining the sessions, she came to enjoy and even look forward to watching Amicus and Aoife spar, even if in part it was because it meant she got a break.
Usually, Aoife would join Amicus and Custos for breakfast, though occasionally they would spend the meal with feir composers. Quaide and Elisedd had tried to join the trio on one or two occasions but it had been highly awkward, and not just because of the language barrier. Keiran was a more frequent dining companion; ei seemed to have forgotten eir previous animosity towards Custos in favor of complaining, loudly, about how hopeless Amicus and Aoife were. Custos quite frankly agreed and, after being privy to too many tense sparring matches and moments of quiet confidence she was very sure weren't meant for her to witness, she matched Keiran's volume on the matter.
"What if we locked them in the barn?" Custos suggested one morning, leaning conspiratorially over her eggs and stage-whispering at Keiran. The golem nodded appreciatively at the idea.
"Weee c-c-can heeear you." Amicus brandished their fork accusingly. Besides them, Aoife looked as if fa wanted to crumble onto the floor and not pull femself back together again.
Keiran waved them off, horns glowing in the pattern that Custos had come to associate with cheekiness. "I sure hope you can. We're not orchestrating your confession obnoxiously loudly for our own benefit you know."
"Could have fooled meee." At Amicus's squealing retort, Custos couldn't hold in her giggle.
"Keiran please-" Aoife glanced at feir friend beseechingly, only to find no mercy in keir shining eyes. "-we're adults. We're capable of talking things out between us on our own." The clay golem harrumphed softly, like ei were daring eir friend to prove it. "On our own" fa emphasized.
"Fine, fine. I can take a hint. Come on Custos, let's go see if Princeps needs a hand setting up for the festival. Maybe they'll appreciate our matchmaking skills." Keiran grabbed Custos's hand and pulled the robot out into the warm spring air, leaving Aoife and Amicus to laugh bashfully over the remains of their meals.
---
"There's no way they have control over the weather," Aoife protested as fa and Amicus trudged through the muddy fields, newly furrowed and eagerly sucking at stones and metal feet. Amicus let loose a high-pitched laugh of static as their friend jumped at a rumble of thunder. Mud had found its way into every joint and crevice below Amicus's knee and Aoife's ferns were plastered to feir facade like the fur of a bedraggled Sheherr after a much needed, but equally hated, bath. They looked nothing like the stoic sentry and ancient being of stone that they were supposed to be, and Amicus found themself oddly enjoying testing the waters, hah, of this new decorum-less relationship.
"Iii'm willing to beeelieeeve it at this point," they admitted with a shrug that creaked in the manner that almost guaranteed rust spotting come morning.
Aoife's horns flashed darkly because fa too knew what the sound meant, but quickly they were glowing once more. "I hate it when Keiran's right, but it looks like it's time for shelter. To the barn?"
"Miiight as well."
The pair brushed off mud and water as best they could after entering the barn through the smaller side doors. Aoife leaned against Velox's stall door as fa waited for feir friend to finish toweling down their legs. "We're going to need to wash and restock the wet supply closet soon. The rainy season's far from over and we're running low on picks and clean towels," fa noted.
Amicus folded the towel they were using and set it with the other used cloths before closing the closet behind them. "Better get Custos on it whiiile Iii can still order her around."
"How soon are you promoting her?"
The robot turned so Aoife could read the words off their screen. "Probly @ the festvl. Princeps said they wanted to do sm frml rank stuf."
"That fast huh?" Aoife's softly glowing horns gave off most of the light in the barn so fa had to lean close to see more of Amicus's features than their pulsing face plate. No matter how close they got, though, they wouldn't be able to see the tight frown that would have been evident in Amicus's voice if they weren't speaking through text.
"She's smrt. She shld hve graduatd last yr but-" Amicus didn't have to fill in the "but", Aoife remembered all too well the time that had been lost. Funny how two years could really mark the end of an era nowadays. Time meant something now, fa remembered thinking that very same thing several years ago. Aoife hadn't really known what time had meant back then, but fa did now. Time meant little moments like these: stolen manure-scented oases, sparring, strategizing at night in not-quite-empty ruins, watching for dragons with steaming hot cider, breakfasts, singing a mourning song. Moments with Amicus, always with Amicus. Whenever Aoife thought of feir past in Mekhanikos, it was always with Amicus. When fa brought femself to think of the future, Aoife found fa wanted nothing different. Fifty years of these little moments would be well worth fifty thousand years without.
"Amy, I am so in love with you." The words escaped Aoife like a whispered sigh, conjured by the barest brushing of wet stones. Fa almost didn't realize that the words that had been rattling around inside them for so many years were now verbalized. In the silence that hung between moments, Aoife just watched the glow of feir horns ripple over Amicus.
"Oh Pheee." Amicus rested their forehead against Aoife's. The red incandescence of their face plate mingled with the pale yellow of Aoife's horns, producing a welcoming sunset orange light that bathed the pair in warmth. They didn't need to say it, for Aoife knew it very well, felt it in the core of feir force, but they said it anyway for the feeling of the words in the air. "I love you too."
---
"I don't want to hold the festival inside." Custos must have realized how childish she sounded as soon as she spoke, because she glanced down at her shoes in embarrassment immediately afterwards.
"Even I can't control the weather," Princeps deadpanned from behind their clipboard.
Sighing, Custos bent over to pick up the wreath she had knocked over in her outburst of immaturity and placed it on the head chief's desk. "I'm sorry Princeps. I know you're doing the best you can." To their credit, Princeps didn't seem to hold it against her. They adjusted their glasses and finished a note they were writing before setting down their pen and looking up at Custos.
"It's alright," they assured her. "I know Tonus's day is especially important to you. You're right that they'd like it better outdoors, but spring weather is unpredictable and most of us do poorly in the rain."
"It's just, this is the first time so it needs to go well, right? That way we can do it again next year." Custos busied her hands by brushing a petal off of Princeps's papers. She was surprised when the head chief caught one of her hands and squeezed it comfortingly.
"Even if this year's event doesn't go off without a hitch, we will celebrate Tonus's birthday again. I can assure you of this. They were important to more than just you and they touched our lives in many different ways. We will not forget them."
Custos swiped at the corner of her eyes with her free hand, though for what purpose it was difficult to say. Robots didn't exactly have tear glands. "Thanks Princeps," the apprentice warbled. "You're right, of course, it's just-" She shrugged helplessly, trailing off. Voluntas figured this was as good a time as any to step in.
"Hello!" The robot called out to the pair as they flung open the door with own set of hands, the other sets carrying large trays of floral arrangements. "It's me! Voluntas!" they clarified upon seeing Custos's startled expression and figuring her shock was in regards to Voluntas's new four-armed body. "Ackerley made me another body so I'm taking it for a test drive, sorry if scared you!"
"No, no. It's all fine." Princeps got out from behind their desk to meet Voluntas halfway. They helped the warrior set the trays down on another table without spilling decorations all over the already messy floor. Voluntas was still getting used to the proper balance of having four arms so they quite appreciated the help. Disaster averted, Princeps brushed their hands off and looked Voluntas up and down admiringly. "I figured it was you when you spent the last ten minutes hovering outside the window. You're the only one who bothers to wait when I'm busy instead of barging on in."
"The pink flowers are pretty recognizable too," Custos chimed in. She clapped as Voluntas bowed deeply, first to her and then to Princeps. A small giggle even escaped her as they flexed imaginary muscles.
Princeps just shook their head and sighed. "What's this one for? It's the third total, right?" Voluntas highly doubted Princeps needed to ask about the number of alternate bodies the warrior- that was the kind of thing the head chief specialized in. Still, they were more than happy to take a moment and talk about themself.
"Yup, the third! Honestly I just think Ackerley likes building them, they're like design workouts. I'm not complaining though! More bodies for me! This one's specifically for construction, so I can carry four times the number of beams- see?" Voluntas grabbed four separate sheafs of paper from Princeps's desk, which the head chief had to hurriedly talk them out of hoisting over their head to prove their strength. They settled instead for juggling a single floral arrangement, thought that caused its fair share of a mess. "Whoops! Sorry," they apologized, sweeping up the dropped petals with their large hands. "Oh hey that reminds me! I know you're the one to see about this kind of thing so I was meaning to ask, what would you say to holding the Tonus celebration in the barn? The fields are still kind of muddy because of the rain and all, but we could put down some boards outside and throw up an awning and it would be awfully nice!"
Custos glanced from Voluntas and Princeps, who seemed to be considering the proposition. "An awning would solve the rain problem, wouldn't it Princeps?" she ventured. "And we'd have more space than in the dining hall."
"And most importantly we'd be outside, huh?" Princeps leaned around Custos to scribble a few notes on their clipboard before straightening back up to nod at Voluntas. "That's a good idea. If you round up a few golems I figure you'll be done in a few days' time."
"Perfect!" Voluntas clapped both sets of hands together, further crushing the arrangement they were holding and sending more petals spiraling to the ground. Sighing as they watched the warrior dash off through the door, Princeps sank back into their seat. Voluntas might have been one of the more conscientious robots, but that didn't make them particularly more aware of their surroundings when it came to avoiding mess making. Oh well, at least that messy energy could be put to something productive.
---
"And these furry creatures you call cats? Are they always so underfoot?"
Keiran couldn't help but give a humming laugh at the sight of eir composure standing stock-still as a trio of cats sniffed around mem. Sheherr had claimed one of Mochan's low hanging stones as a place to sun herself while Calpras was happily rubbing her cheek all over a different goethite boulder. Ei leaned over to give Hehimm a good chin scratching. "Yeah they're usually pretty mischievous. Mischief is probably another word that doesn't translate right, given that this time period invented fun." Keiran rubbed out "mischief" and "fun" in the modern tongue, as Mochan had "cats" priorly.
"The cheek!" Mochan protested, entirely in the old tongue. Moe flicked one of meir child's crystals lightly with a pebble, sending ticklish vibrations down eir force. "Bold claims when all I have seen of this time period is work, work, work! Build this, hunt that, yada yada yada. Don't you ever get tired?"
Keiran groaned good-naturedly. Ei stood up and swung another plank over one of eir broader boulders, shooing the protesting cats out of the way with the gentle shushing of stone. "No, Momo. I like working- it makes me feel good." Ei waited for eir composer to grab a plank as well before striding through the land ei had tilled with eir own force. The spring showers had taken a break for the afternoon so Keiran, Mochan, and a number of other synthetics were taking advantage of the respite to get work done on the dance floor.
"You are too much like Fedel," teased Mochan when moe finally caught up to meir child. "The last time I worked this hard was when we were composing your ballad, but this was Fedelmid's everyday! What del saw in me I do wonder-" As eir composer trailed off, horns glowing softly. Keiran let out another groan.
"When we wake Fedelmid up are you guys going to be this insufferable everyday?"
Mochan's horns shone brightly and meir crystals hummed with laughter. "It's a composer's right! Especially after being away from you for a decade. Now teach me more words so I can embarrass you in front of your friends soon."
"Momo! Fine, you win." And all the way to the barn and back the pair, reunited at long last, talked and teased and taught their way through an afternoon's worth of work. The sunset seemed to come much quicker than it should have, but they didn't much mind, they had all the time in the world to catch up now.
---
Voluntas was pretty sure they were being followed. They might not have been the smartest of all synthetics, and only the strongest one-third of the time, but they had their moments, this such moment being only one of many. Whoever was following them was good, but cocky. Voluntas was far from a stealthy robot- their gears clicked noticeably with every movement they made, and it seemed to them that their pursuer had decided to blend into Voluntas's background noise rather than nature's. This was a mistake because Voluntas hadn't yet adjusted to their current body to the extent that they just filtered out its creaking automatically, meaning that they heard any out of order snap or creak distinctly. Whenever they paused to look at a flower or shiny rock, the clicking would stop just a fraction of a second after Voluntas themself stopped, creating a damning echo that practically confirmed they were being followed.
"You're getting worse you know," they announced eventually after stopping to pick a small posy of baby's breath. "You kept moving for nearly two full seconds after I stopped this time." Something dropped out of the canopy and Voluntas turned around to offer their bouquet to Lumina, who peered at them with six curious glowing eyes.
"How'd you know? Wait- no don't tell me! Let me guess." Something like a grin buzzed behind their voice. "Finally a challenger worth my time- did Ackerley give you a heat sensor?" Voluntas shook their head. "Sonar? Radio waves? An advanced database of woodland bird song?"
"No, I could just hear you!" Lumina was visibly perplexed now and was circling around Voluntas with a nimbleness they couldn't hope to match. "This is probably the longest I've ever seen you on the ground," they remarked easily as the small scout rounded them again, poking at their various joints. "Hey that tickles!"
Though not exactly satisfied, Lumina drew back from their investigation anyways. "Being on the ground is way to easy. Staying in the trees helps me train."
"Actually I'd say it's harder to be sneaky on the ground. People don't look up much but they sure look ahead a bunch!" Voluntas shifted slightly as Lumina turned the full force of their investigative gaze back upon the warrior. "Or, that's what I think at least. Flowers?" They held out the posy to her once more, which Lumina took gingerly, twisting the stems between their fingers.
"Your idea has merit," they admitted. "Though I fail to see what flowers have to do with it."
Voluntas waved a hand breezily. "Oh those are just for you. I thought they looked pretty, see?" Finally satisfied with Voluntas's declaration of intentions, at least enough to pin the flowers to their cloak, Lumina nodded shortly and instinctively grabbed for a branch to pull themself back up into the canopy. Remembering the conversation they just had, the robot instead opted to slink backwards into the bushes. Smiling lightly, Voluntas watched them go. "What an interesting robot," they remarked to themself.
---
In the end, it did rain on the day of the festival: a light drizzle through which the sun could still be seen and which was not swept sideways by the accompanying gentle breeze. Beneath the cloth canopy Voluntas had hung, the villagers of Mekhanikos were dry and warm, and the wooden floor Keiran and Mochan had erected kept the mud out of everyone's way. Strings of small uncovered bulbs looped throughout the barn's interior and exterior, connecting wreaths of tulips, daffodils, and other lively spring flowers. If anything, the slight mist in the air served to keep the blooms fresher for longer, and despite the overcast the atmosphere of the event was overwhelmingly bright and cheery.
Friends and couples tore up the dance floor to the records of an old phonograph Princeps and Ackerley had dug up from who knew where. Keiran and Mochan performed a rendition of what they referred to as a traditional golem folk song. It was entirely in the old tongue, but even if they could not understand it, most of the robots knew it had to be something bawdy judging by the reactions of those who could, which ranged from gleeful (Elisedd, sai even joined in at the chorus) to thoroughly scandalized (Quaide, though kai was heard humming a few bars the day after the party). Aoife sung a slow and winding tune with feir parents and a lively jig alongside Custos, who also performed a handful of solos, one of which was a more upbeat rendition of the dirge she had written for Tonus's funeral. Genaine refused to sing, as was expected, but less expectedly Cultor broke out a banjo and played a short tune with Ackerley, who rubbed their washboard with more enthusiasm than skill. Apparently the pair had been practicing, and Keiran joked to Aoife that the practice sessions, not the rain, were the reason the cats had been hiding lately. There was, however, still a notable silence where a fiddle should be. That would never go away.
Dancing was approached with similar abandon to singing, with highly varied levels of skill but consistently high levels of energy. Ackerley's use of a cane did not stop them from boogieing, though their dance moves were significantly more stationary than in previous years. Lumina rather made up for the mechanic's lack of movement by flitting all about the dance floor in a series of complicated acrobatics. Voluntas somehow managed to ground them long enough to share a song, and the pair had an interesting time pushing the limits of what could be considered safe partner dancing with the aid of twice as many arms and unheard of flexibility. In contrast, Elisedd and Quaide's method of gyrating slowly around the dance floor seemed all the more traditional, though they too stretched the definition of "partner" dancing given how integrated their force appeared to be at various points. Aoife and Amicus spent most of the later songs dancing with one another, an arrangement which few tried to interrupt. The later announcement that they were, in fact, officially together was met with much applause but little surprise, except for Aoife's own shock and feir composers being among those cheering the loudest.
As announcements went, Princeps found it hard to top Aoife and Amicus's. Most of their speech had to do with the dry administrative aspects of village life: trade deals, a plan to send a party to the marketplace to see what all the fuss was about, a three-year plan for more individualized housing now that more families were cropping up. Promotion of Amicus to war chief, Aoife to hunting chief, and Lumina to scout chief were more formalities than anything, especially in the case of Lumina who was technically the only active scout anyways, but they were formalities that garnered many cheers and pats on the back. Raucous applause also greeted the news that Custos was now ready to be considered a full warrior of Mekhanikos. The stunned person of honor was helped onto the stage, a couple of hay bales with a drape cloth thrown over them, by Princeps, who gave a short speech on her valor and dedication. It was not only in battle, the head chief emphasized, that Custos had shown great bravery. The new warrior proved her strength each and every day by getting up in the morning and putting her best foot forwards, no matter what had happened the night prior. It was a skill that not many are able to cultivate. They said they hoped that Custos understood how important her quotidian bravery was. She said she thought she did, or at least was beginning to; her wide grin corroborated her statement.
The festivities went on well into the evening, but eventually everyone was forced to admit defeat in the face of exhaustion. Ackerley was practically asleep on their feet by the time Princeps started herding them towards their workshop. Cultor came along to help the head chief escort the floppy mechanic and push their argument that cleaning up the barn could wait but Princeps's diagnostics and shut down couldn't. Amicus and Aoife left together, chatting softly with their bodies pressed tight. The other golems trickled out at different points, Elisedd and Mochan hanging back a little longer than their family members to argue lightheartedly over the correct pronunciation of "niche" in the new tongue. Amidst it all, no one particularly noticed that Genaine had left the party nearly an hour earlier. With everyone off dancing and celebrating the life of some two year old nobody, the golem took the opportunity to swipe a few tools from Ackerley's workshop. The mechanic wouldn't even miss them with the clutter they lived in.
---
Months after Voluntas had caught them skulking about, Lumina had once again popped out of the bushes, now a gorgeous swathe of autumnal golds and reds, to announce that they had mastered the art of sneaking around the land and they had a challenge for Voluntas. "A challenge of stealth, obviously. You go about your daily business and I'll pop in from time to time. If I tap you three times without you noticing me then I win. If you make it through the day without me getting you all three times then you win."
Voluntas cocked their head in consideration. "Okay! Sounds fun! What do I get if I win?"
"What do you get? The satisfaction of being the best of course!"
"Yeah that's pretty good," the four-armed robot admitted. "But we can up the stakes a little."
"If you insist." Lumina scrutinized Voluntas for a moment, fixing them with a stare that made them feel as if the scout were sizing them up. They smiled placidly. "Name your prize. Anything. I'm that confident I'll win."
"A walk, a long one. No make it a full day. A full day where you have to stay in full sight and hang out with me. That's what I want if I win."
Lumina shrugged their shoulders. "No accounting for taste I guess. Should we set the date for, a week or so out? I'm not going to tell you the exact day of course- that'd take the whole fun out of it."
"Sounds fine to me!" Voluntas didn't particularly care when the game began. They already knew that winning was a pipe dream no matter when the game took place. Lumina had gotten a lot better at sneaking around since they had caught them back in the spring; this time when the scout slid off into the underbrush they did so without a sound. Voluntas just glanced away for a moment and Lumina was gone without even a waving branch to indicate where they had disappeared to. They sighed. "Maybe I'll have to go to Sequitur for some tips."
As it turned out, Sequitur was rather unhelpful about the whole thing. Lumina had gotten to them first and the young robot had enough respect for the head scout to refuse to give Voluntas any insight into how they snuck around everywhere. Sequitur claimed the secrecy was scout policy but Voluntas didn't buy it. With that dead end they had pretty much given up hope of beating Lumina at their own game when the day's patrol yielded a furry surprise. Voluntas had taken to the puppy immediately, even before they realized its potential as a secret weapon. They had named it Eagle Eyes for its odd multicolored eyes, but quickly realized that a more accurate name would refer to the dog's especially strong sense of smell. A few days getting accustomed to Lumina's scent and Eagle Eyes would be perfect for sniffing the scout out. Voluntas's chances of securing that hang out seemed to be looking up. [/i][/div]
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hazilnut
Junior Member
Eager for our new journey
Posts: 52
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Post by hazilnut on Apr 6, 2020 20:28:52 GMT -8
13 - A Symphony of Vignettes "Stay out of the river."
"Okay."
"And don't wander off where an adult can't see you!"
"I said okay, Nechtan! I'm not a baby!"
"Oh of course. That's good- Genaine only eats babies. But if you say you're not a baby then I suppose you'll be all right."
"Haha very funny." A pause as Ninian sized up nir couplet. Big icy blue eyes bore into Nechtan, who managed to keep the glow out of their horns for longer than tae expected. "Genaine doesn't eat golems, right? Right?"
Nechtan shuffled teir bolders in what might have constituted a shrug. "You want to ask aim?"
"Aoife!" Whine clear in the scraping of nir unworn boulders, Ninian turned to the other golem who had accompanied the siblings to the river. "Genaine won't eat me, right?"
"Of course ai won't," Aoife took feir attention away from the stream to give feir young friend's force a warm squeeze. "Knack is just teasing you."
"Course tae is. Tae's mean!" Ninian spat a small pebble at Nechtan, who spat one right back. Giggling, the little golem started flopping neir way across the sand, tauntingly close to the river nei was warned away from.
"Knick's as energetic as ever," Aoife mused to feir friend, who laughed the soft laugh of lepidolite stone.
"Thousands of years to nap allows one to wake with lots of energy I would presume. Mind you not to remind Ninian of those nicknames or I'll be responding to nothing else for the next hundred years."
"And how do you plan on stopping me?" Aoife dared challenge, a glow that was more familiar in the past year tinging feir horns. Instead of answering, Nechtan crooned a high note and sent a sloppy wave of sand Aoife's way. Fa deftly turned it back on feir attacker just as quickly. "Ha!"
Nechtan expelled a shower of grit from teir force and shook teir head. "You child of a rockslide! When'd your antlers grow so big?
Aoife fought down the melancholy sigh that welled up in feir soul at Nechtan's mention of feir antlers. Feir friend had had a good twenty years on them back in Caling, but now fa was the one with more years and crystalline inches. Aoife wasn't as stuck in the past now as fa once was, Amicus and the project had helped significantly in that regard, but the return of feir old friend, not a decade older than fa had last seen tem, brought the old tinge of sadness back.
"Please, I was always a better singer than you," Aoife managed to laugh, a little softer than fa would have liked.
"Yeah, yeah, that's a fair point I reckon. Amicus did well catching you! Singing, symmetry, a great personality- the full package!"
Has Aoife any blood, fa would have blushed heartily at feir friend's praise. As things stood feir horns glowed bright with embarrassment and fa sank a little bit into the sand. "Parade me through a garden why don't you?"
"Like you wouldn't put the flowers to shame! A little pride never hurt anybody, Aoife."
---
Lumina was faster than Voluntas, that was just a fact. Sitting and waiting for the scout to pop out had only served to get themself tapped twice before midday, even when Voluntas had been sitting in a field surrounded by nothing but knotted grass. Eagle Eyes, who lay by their side the whole time, tongue lolling, had only enough time to yelp before his handler felt the second light brush of the day. There was a flash of blue and brown and then the field was empty once more.
“Give up?” Came a voice from nowhere and everywhere.
Voluntas just shook their head and stood, stretching and snapping mechanical joints as they did. “Nah. I never stop when it’s good for me.”
“More fun for me!” The grass rustled and the voice was gone again.
Voluntas glanced down at Eagle Eyes, who was looking back up at them with placid eyes. The robot hummer and ruffled his scraggly ears. “I think it’s time to change the game. Eagle Eyes- find!”
It wasn’t technically cheating, Lumina had conceded that point with begrudging admiration. The last thing the scout had expected was for Voluntas to switch the game by tracking them down instead. Well, almost the last thing. It was even more unexpected, if such a thing could be said, when Voluntas actually found them and proceeded to sit on them until the sun set and the game was won. Still, Lumina was if nothing but a fair player, even if no one understood the rules of most of their games, or in fact that they were playing, and they accepted their defeat gracefully.
“What reconnaissance can we gain from playing with these creatures?”
Voluntas glanced up from where they had been dangling string for four of the cats to chase, another curled up happily against the warm metal of their chest. “It’s not reconnaissance, it’s just fun!”
“Things can be both.” Lumina seemed to almost be pouting. They and Voluntas had spent the last half hour playing with the cats, and the scout was starting to itch from sitting still so long. “Did you notice Keiran watching us?”
“Oh?” Voluntas let Spade win the tug of war they had been engaged with and glanced around for the clay golem Lumina had been referring too. Sure enough, Keiran was taking a break from tending the fields, watching the robots and cats with unreadable eyes. “Hey Keir-ack!” Voluntas sputtered beneath Lumina’s hand clamped over their faceplate, more out of shock than the need to speak through a mouth. “What’s that for?”
“Shush!” The scout ordered. “Do you want em to know that we know that ei know that we know?”
“I have no idea what that means,” Voluntas replied cheerfully before resuming waving at Keiran to come over.
“What’s going on?” Rumbled the golem as ei approached.
“Nothing,” replied Lumina at the same time Voluntas said “Lumina thinks you’re spying on us.”
“That’s basically nothing,” the scout protested.
“Coming from you, I’d agree.” The golem’s horns, which had started to grow back from the nubs they had been reduced to, glowed with bright amusement. “Surprised to see you out of the bushes.”
“They lost a bet! They’re stuck with me for the whole day.”
“Fair’s fair. It’d be better if you didn’t insist on doing the least interesting things. Like breakfast. And cats.”
Keiran shook eir head, or at least that’s what Voluntas assumed. It was hard to tell with golems. “Just be careful with the cats okay?” Ei gave Calpras a nice scritchy scratch down her spine to the base of her now stumpy tail. “And don’t let them take advantage of you either- they’re tricky cats these ones.”
Lumina gave a buzzing scoff. “We can’t be tricked by a bunch of cats!”
They were, in fact, tricked by a bunch of cats. Barrels of salt pork were involved. Brine mixtures were spilled. Felines went into food comas. Princeps washed their hands of the matter, muttering something about becoming the first robot monk. Mochan swore in the human tongue. Around laughter, Keiran claimed ei did not teach eir composer how to say that. Lumina and Voluntas were strong-armed into clean up duty and Lumina stopped complaining after around the third hour. Voluntas, though not know for their ability to read people, was fairly confident that their friend had actually started to have fun. They did seem to thrive in the midst of chaos.
“So,” Voluntas asked with a voice muffled by a stack of laundry, “Good day?”
Humming, Lumina performed and absent-minded cartwheel, laundry long since dumped on Voluntas, before answering. “Yeah. Good day. Different, but good.”
Voluntas dumped their load in the river, trusting the slow current not to steal the sheets. Ackerley would be wearing mismatched socks for a long time afterwards. “Maybe next time I won’t have to sit on you to convince you to come down from your tree?”
“Well that seems like bypassing the rules. But I suppose rules can be amended.”
Voluntas beamed brightly, and for some reason Lumina turned away. They didn’t run, though, so the warrior wasn’t too worried. “Great. Say, do you know how to do laundry?”
——
It wasn’t what could be called a beautiful fall day. The leaves that had not yet fallen had curled up brittle and brown on skeletal branches. Fields long since harvested lay fallow, covered by thick layers of dead grass, hulls, and husks to protect and nourish the soil through the winter months. Through this barren and sleeping landscape shuffled two golems as drably colored as the fields and forests surrounding them.
Turning to their companion, one asked in a tongue long forgotten, the language of the earth itself. Not gravelly and low like what golems spoke now but loud and rich- cacophonous one might say, though they would be incorrect. There was a melodious element to the old tongue that was reminiscent of cliffsides worm smooth by crashing waves. “Oh, where *are* you taking me?”
“You’ll recognize it when we get there,” came the vague reply of their coal-black companion.
“I’m sure I will, Genaine, but it wouldn’t ruin the surprise to let me know now, would it?”
“I don’t think you understand what a surprise is.”
Elisedd glowed good naturedly at ser friend’s grousing. “Okay you have me there. But don’t blame me for being curious when you never have time to speak to us anymore and all of a sudden want to show me something.”
For a moment Genaine was silent, then spoke with a voice too quiet to properly pronounce the old words. “Sorry I suppose. But look, we’re here.” Ai gestured to the clearing the pair had come upon. It was unassuming and pocketed by scraggly trees that had found few nutrients in the rocky soil. Even thousands, maybe millions, of years later, the view of the ocean was just as gorgeous.
“Oh!” The shine of Elisedd’s horns paled in comparison to the flames of the setting sun, and for a long moment the golem was silent. Genaine gave air friend ser time and simply watches sem with casual interest. Gradually Elisedd comes back to semself with a hum that causes the pebbles near ser trunk to tremble. “We used to play here. Sing and seek by that crevice-“ Eli spun around as sai spoke. “-tag on that incline.”
“Quaide always tried to keep me from tagging along. Said I was too young.”
“You came anyways of course.”
If Genaine could, ai would have rolled air eyes. “Of course. Since when have I ever listened to kem?”
The thing about golems was that they could laugh, it was just indistinguishable from the sound of cliffsides tumbling into the sea. Such a noise escaped from Elisedd, ser horns glowing brighter as the night around sem and Genaine crept from pale pink to inky purple. “Oh I’ll have to show Que this. Phe too, maybe fa and feir partner can have their romantic trysts here instead of the barn for once.” Elisedd was too busy glancing about the old stomping grounds to notice Genaine’s glow darken at the mention of Quaide and Aoife. The coal golem kept air gaze fixed on the horizon until the sun had finally been extinguished.
“I did listen the Quaide. Once.”
“Oh?”
Genaine nodded almost imperceptibly. “Not too long ago, maybe a few years, when we remainders of Caling were fewer in number, Quaide told me something. Kai said I needed to find a place that still felt like home. Kai had the river, this was mine.” Ai turned air back on the ocean view and instead looked towards the terraced hills and tiny village below, seeing none of it. “I come up here to center myself. To remind me of what was lost, and what remains.” The feeling of another’s force touching air own startled Genaine out of air trance.
Elisedd looked up at aim, horns spiraling out in magnificent branching patterns that made Genaine’s force throb for the loss of air own. “Thank you for showing me this.”
“There’s no one I would rather spend the past and future with.”
—-
“Que.”
“Phe.”
Despite the progress the two had been making, the little twinge in Aoife’s force whenever fa spoke to feir composer alone betrayed a still underlying tension. Aoife had to remind femself that fa wasn’t running away anymore. Avoidance wasn’t a proper policy, especially with time now ever precious, but that didn’t make it any less tempting to turn tail and flee back into the forest. Now wouldn’t that confuse Quaide- keir child invites kem to talk by the stream that’s seen pretty much every emotional family memory only to book it after saying keir name? That wouldn’t do at all. Trying valiantly to keep the glow in feir horns and feir voice above a whisper of vines, Aoife shared feir news. “Amicus and I are composing a child.”
To keir credit, Quaide didn’t flinch. “Congratulations,” kai replied. Keir horns even pulsed with warmth.
“O-oh-“ A pebble skipped when Aoife tried to speak. “Thank you?” Fa didn’t ask: “Is that really it? You’re actually congratulating me?” Fa didn’t have to.
Quaide shuffled the sand around keir base, the action doing nothing to diminish keir aura of authority and general parental-ness. “I’m not so bad a composer as to wish you ill upon hearing such happy news.” There was almost a sardonic edge to keir tone, but Aoife wasn’t sure if fa was just overthinking things. Fa hummed a moment, which Quaide must have taken as a sign of being unconvinced, because kai quickly continued, this time visibly drawing into kemself and looking Aoife in the eyes. “I haven’t been a good composer, Phe, I-I know that. I am trying very hard to work on it, and I’m not asking you to give me pardon because I’m ‘trying’- it’s my job to fix the habits that cause you pain- but just because I don’t deserve a ‘most improved composer’ award just yet doesn’t mean I don’t want to be involved in your life and share your joy. Let me be happy for you. I’ll sort out the other emotions on my own.” Aoife hovered stunned, unsure how to respond, and Quaide took the silence as an invitation to continue talking. “I really don’t mean this to make you feel guilty, which is a sentence that ironically also sounds designed to make you feel guilty. Oh, Phe I just want to-“
“You’re the first to know.”
“What?”
Aoife reached out tentatively to grab Quaide’s force with feir own. Fa looked up at feir composer, stones set straight. “I chose you to be the first to know because I believe you. I want to, I choose to believe you.”
“Phe-“ Quaide leaned keir head against that of keir child’s, letting the healing stubs of their antlers connect and release a low hum as if someone had rubbed a tuning force. Unsure of how to end the brief moment of intimacy, Quaide let Aoife break away first. Kai regarded keir child a warm look that for once Aoife didn’t feel forced to second guess. “Have you picked your verbs? If you’re doing it that way, with a ballad, that is.”
Aoife gave a soft, vine-muffled hum of amusement. “We haven’t yet, but we are doing a ballad- sort of. We were going to construct a body with Ackerley’s help and then try and animate it with a ballad.”
Quaide couldn’t help kemself. “Oh Phe the chances of such a directed attempt failing-“
“We know.” Fa’s voice was clipped and they looked away from feir composer as fa spoke.
“I mean- I’m sorry. I’m sure it will work.” Then, with more conviction and a touch of fondness, “You are the most talented singer I know Phe, even among all the elders.”
Aoife muttered something inaudible about gardens and Nechtan before forming a comprehensible “Thank you. I, uh, wanted to ask you for advice actually. I’ve never done a ballad and Amy obviously hasn’t either and they didn’t cover it very well in school so-“ fa trailed off as Quaide began to glow brightly.
“Are we going to have the talk? Now? I’m kidding of course- I’d like nothing more than to help.”
It wasn’t the sun that kept the composer and child warm that fall afternoon.
---
"You content in the air, Ackerley?" Mochan hummed up to the young human perched on meir 'shoulders'.
Ackerley had to push an oncoming branch out of the way with their cane, the wriggling caused by the motion tickling Mochan's force. "All good up here!" they replied happily. "This is a great view! Is this how being tall feels? Say, how tall can you guys get? Is there a limit to how far you can stretch your force? Does it depend on how old you are because Ninian can be super slippery-"
"Give Momo a chance to process!" interrupted Keiran, horn stubs aglow with mirth. Ei hung a few feet behind eir composer and Ackerley, level with Custos who was also watching the conversation with similar amusement. Sequitur, also part of the little band, had been trotting a little ways in front, but at the moment had their large orange head stuck down some hole in a toppled tree.
"Oh, right, sorry!"
"Excitement is a problem never. But to your question, there is a limit yes. It is greater for younger golems like Keiran. New golems can be particularly, what is the word-" Mochan turned to meir child and rumbled something incomprehensible to the human ear.
Keiran shifted the blankets ei were holding so eir reply wouldn't be muffled. "Liquid? Loose might be a better term."
"Yes! Loose. Like sand on a beach. They need a lot of care to keep together early on. This one-" and Mochan swiveled part of meir body around so moe and Ackerley could face Keiran. "-was particularly loose. Nearly drove Fedel and I-" Another roar of senseless noise.
Well, it wasn't senseless to Keiran, who keened "Momo!" in a shame shocked squeak that Ackerley felt on a spiritual level. Their mom had given up on the 'no swearing around children' rule when they reached their thirteenth birthday. It was one of her few vices, she had told them, and a rather bad one at that for Contracincinnus, but that hardly put a damper on her. It was still an almost physical shock every time she let one rip. Or, it had been at least. Ackerley was firmly reminded that they really needed to write home more. Postal service wasn't very accessible from where Mekhanikos was situated, but they owed their parents more than a couple letters proving they were a) not a Harper, b) not coming back, and c) not killed in a coup sorry about not getting back to you sooner about that and all. Now that had been Ackerley's least favorite letter to receive a response from. Blowing their money and time on a ramshackle village in the woods was one thing, nearly getting killed was another. One got them colorfully chewed out while the other brought a very close to fulfilled threat to drag them back home, armed robots and legal adulthood be damned. Maybe Ackerley should post another letter when they visited the market later that year, give their parents some genuine good news for once.
Ackerley drifted back out of their thoughts to find Keiran demonstrating eir flexibility for Custos, who tried in good natured vain to keep up. It was really rather impressive how disjointed ei could become. Idly, Ackerley wondered what they might be able to design that could defy physics in such a way. Double pendulums maybe? A similar disregard for quantifiablility, but it would jerky where Keiran was all smooth control. A question for another day spent in the lab in any case, right now was a time for sunshine and friends!
Sequitur finally popped out of the trunk they had been investigating to report on their findings. "A big old mole chowing down on a worm. It was all squinty and hairy- the mole not the worm- but maybe the worm could have been squinty? I didn't see any eyes. But it definitely wasn't hairy. It was slimy like a river rock. I found a cool river rock this morning-" They continued on in the same dreamy tone as the group got back to walking through the woods. Eventually Sequitur was drawn in to a debate over worms and gardening with Keiran, thought Keiran was really the only one doing any debating. Sequitur was mostly listing off weird places they had seen a worm, or thought they had seen a worm- sometimes said would-be-worms turned out to be damp sticks.
Custos turned her attention to prying details about Amy and Aoife's project out of Ackerley. The parents-to-be had given the okay for the mechanic to talk about basic prototype body details, since those weren't quite as personal as ballad composition, and likely because denying permission wouldn't have stopped anything. Except it totally would have because Ackerley valued their friends' privacy wishes very much and if they had wanted them to stay mum they would have one hundred percent. Things as they were, however, Ackerley was more than happy to chat about specialized joints and wiring systems, especially with the being who had paved the way for them being able to do what they currently were doing.
Eventually everyone grew tired, and Ackerley hungry, so they picked a nice spot to spread out the picnic blankets and break out the food. There were sandwiches for Ackerley and dried meats and fruit for everyone else who didn't have taste buds to be picky with. Despite the lack of taste receptors, all were invited to partake in apple cider, kept warm by one of Ackerley's recent inventions. They had a surprising amount to say on the subject of improved thermoses and Mochan, and Keiran for that matter, ended up learning far more specialized vocabulary than had been expected. Custos and Sequitur did some light stretches and sparring while everyone talked, having finished eating the quickest, and once everyone had had their fill of food and company, the band set off on their return hike through a sunset as colorful as any fallen leaves.
—-
“Is this revenge for me not naming you Head Gatherer?”
Ackerley, Amicus, and Aoife has stopped talking marketplace routes and started talking shop. Or babies. Or both.
“Of course it isn’t, Princeps.”
Lumina had disappeared out a window that was definitely too small for them to fit through.
“Everyone already knows you’re in charge anyways.”
There were now diagrams of mechanical joints and sheets of incomprehensible equations spread out over the cramped desk, trade deals shoved into benches or relegated to the floor.
“Prince. I’m not upset about ceremonies that did or didn’t happen.”
One of the cats had wriggled out of its carrier, hopped onto the table, and had begun to sniff at an oil can that had somehow materialized alongside all of Ackerley’s other tools.
“Prince!”
Cultor couldn’t stop their wheezing laughter. Princeps had missed in their attempt to sweep the cat up, instead only succeeding in knocking over Ackerley’s oil can. The feline offender was now walking all over various important document, leaving little black paw prints wherever it trod.
“You’re absolutely sure this isn’t some complicated plan to murder me via a physically impossible heart attack?”
Cultor patted their friend’s arm comfortingly before going off to wrangle the kitty culprit back into its carrier. Princeps took an oil cloth from a sheepish Ackerley and wiped their glasses clean. The returning Cultor bore an armful of towels and a thin scratch across their face plate.
“First off, I would never, even if it is rather funny to watch you tear your metaphorical hair out. Second off, do you really think this group needs me plotting a *murder* as an excuse to make a mess?”
“I feel like I should be offended but you’re also right,” Ackerley complained as they tried to air dry a collection of prototypes.
“Thank you for backing me up, Ackerley. Thirdly and most importantly- was that a joke?”
Princeps shook their head and took one of Cultor’s cloths, sweeping up the mess with a practiced resignation. There was a reason they kept records in triplicate.
“Now that’s my little revenge. You’ll never know for sure.”
Cultor just laughed.
“Bold words from someone whose tics I know like the moon cycle.”
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