Chapter 09

Markus released an exasperated sigh and ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. Things were not going how he had expected them to. Just short of a week had passed since he had bought the house and moved in with Aela. It had been five days since Robert and Lindsay had accepted his offer and taken up residence on the second floor with their infant daughter Suzy. And about three days since Markus had first begun experimenting with his Artificer abilities in earnest.

It was his abilities that were proving a frustrating disappointment. Two days ago Markus had resolved to attempt animating a golem of his own using the marionette he had bought from the tinkers workshop. His initial success had soon given way to setback after setback, the mounting inconsistencies between his expectations and outcomes were infuriating, to say the least.

The large vertical pane of crystal installed in Markus's desk chimed, alerting him to the latest message, the large text suddenly appearing on the surface of the crystal.

Golem Curious: “Creator, are you distressed?”

Markus half-turned to face the doll, knowing it was the origin of the message. He shook his head. Like the Guild Guardian golems, the doll had no other means of communicating besides transmitting thoughts to the screen or acting them out in pantomime. This in and of itself was not what Markus had found disappointing.

The crystal pane chimed again.

Golem Relief: “Then I shall return to my assigned task Creator."

The doll returned to what it had been doing most of the morning, walking the circumference of Markus's room, climbing obstacles Markus had placed in its way to test its capabilities and limitations.

The motor functions test was not what annoyed Markus, but the golem’s apparent limited sense of understanding or comprehension. Try as he might, Markus had not been able to figure out why it was not able to get his name right. Each time Markus had commanded the golem to use his name, it had consistently replied with Mark Forester or Creator.

Believing the fault had been caused by his adapted and improvised enchantments, Markus had given progressively more difficult and poorly pronounced commands. However, the golem had performed each task unfailingly.

Next, Markus had thought that the fault could be overcome with manual input, so he had purchased a second pane of crystal and had an artisan carve all of the numbers, letters and symbols of the Divine alphabet into its surface. Then Markus had enchanted each carving to enter itself as they were pressed, into the vertical crystal pane, mimicking handwritten transcription. This too had met initial success, with allowing him to communicate with the golem through written commands rather than speaking. But all the same, the golem would not acknowledge his true name.

Markus's attempts to find the root cause of the problem had led him to another interesting discovery. Testing its senses as best he could figure, Markus had unwittingly found a way to witness what the golem saw with its eyes.

Just like Markus while channelling his Artificing abilities, the golem viewed the world through a filter of black, white and shades of grey. Markus knew this because he managed to temporarily link the golem’s sense of sight to one of the smaller crystal tablets he had been experimenting with. However, the drain on his mana had been more than Markus was comfortable with, so he had severed the connection.

Similarly to the subversion of his name, the golem seemed to possess an unaccountable and thoroughly disconcerting level of curiosity and free will for what should have been a relatively simple-minded automaton.

Sighing again, Markus got to his feet and stretched. Flexing his left hand, although stiff, Markus was glad that the open wounds had mostly healed and that his wrist felt considerably better. “Wait here in my room,” Markus told the golem, ignoring the chime from the communication pane.

Heading downstairs, Markus paused for a moment to appreciate the sounds of Aela’s lessons filtering up the stairs from the dining room. Robert, the man Aela had rescued from the bandits camp, Mrs Lindsay’s husband, had insisted on paying them back for having rescued himself and his family. Markus hadn’t wanted or expected repayment, knowing they didn’t have anything but the clothes on their backs. However, he was surprised to find that Robert was a teacher. Though in possession of only a few references, he was still a certified teacher.

Education and literacy were low amongst the lower classes in the kingdom, borderline non-existent in some places from what Markus had heard. Teachers educated the children of wealthy merchants and nobles nearly exclusively in exchange for payment or patronage. While Markus had no personal use for a teacher, since he was already quite well educated through rigorous opportunistic study. Robert still presented a unique opportunity for those who would be living here with him who had not had such opportunities. So Markus had relented and allowed Robert to pay for his family's room and board with his profession.

Markus was only halfway down the stairs when someone rapped the knocker against the front door.

Opening the door, Markus was nearly bowled off his feet as the near unrecognisable form of Arlee tackled him in a one armed hug. “MISTER!” She cried excitedly.

“Arlee!” A second figure gasped. Markus recognised the voice as belonging to Arlee’s mother. Abigail. She quickly stepped forward and pulled Arlee off Markus, “I am so sorry my lord!"

Markus couldn’t help but laugh, the bizarre situation somehow resonating with memories long lost. This was one of the reasons he had offered them a home, something had felt familiar, something he was missing, something he needed. Markus grinned as he got to his feet, “Arlee! I am so glad you are here."

Arlee wriggled and squirmed in her mother’s grip but was at a distinct disadvantage. “Really?” She smiled shyly, clearly surprised.

“Of course.” Markus ruffled her hair, “Do you want to see your new room?"

Arlee’s smile widened, “My room?” She parroted, clearly getting excited again Arlee began wriggling and trying to free herself from her mother’s grip in earnest, “C’mon Mama!” Arlee was desperately trying to drag her mother farther into the room.

Markus turned his attention to Abigail, “We weren’t sure whether you wanted separate rooms or not, so we have two rooms prepared next to one another. You don’t have to use them both if you don’t want to, but they are yours so long as you and Arlee want them."

“You didn’t have to do this...” Abigail seemed unsure of what to say. Chewing on her lower lip for a minute as if trying to make up her mind she seemed to come to a decision, “Thank you, for all of this.” Abigail gave him another scrutinising look similar to the one she had given in the hospital close to a week ago.

Feeling uncomfortable, Markus took a few steps back toward the staircase “Well er-” He cleared his throat, “-let’s see about getting you both settled in.” Markus smiled nervously, hoping that seeing the reality of what he had prepared for them would lessen her scrutiny.

“Come on Mama!” Arlee had begun slowly making headway. Tugging insistently as her mother Abigail cautiously allowed herself to be dragged forward.

Showing the pair of them upstairs, Markus waved expansively at the pair of rooms he had prepared for them. Showing Arlee’s room off first, it had not failed to elicit the reaction he had hoped for.

“This is mine?!” Arlee squealed breathlessly, her eyes wide with wonder.

Markus doubted she was appreciating the fine bed linens and other furniture, so much as Arlee was enviously eyeing the toy’s Markus had purchased from the tinker and had deliberately scattered around the floor.

“Of course!” Markus gave Arlee a gentle nudge, not surprised in the slightest as she dove headlong towards the nearest toys.

Abigail reflexively reached out for her daughter as she made to leave arm’s reach but stopped herself just short of snatching the collar of Arlee’s dress. As she watched Arlee giggling and squealing in delight as she excitedly began playing with the toys, Abigail dabbed at the corners of her eyes with one sleeve while cupping her other hand over her mouth.

Markus could only imagine what Abigail must be feeling right now. He wondered what it must be like for a parent to be unable to provide for their child and rely on the kindness of a stranger for what they need. How long had it been since she had seen her daughter laugh, smile and play? Too long, If Abigail’s reaction was anything to judge. Part of Markus wanted to reach out and comfort her, but something held him back. Not so simple as a fear of rejection, on some level he understood that she needed to experience this moment alone.

Silently excusing himself, Markus stepped out into the hall and patiently waited for Abigail to compose herself, perfectly content to give her as long as she needed.

Something about their situation had struck a chord in him, a memory just out of reach dancing on the periphery of his mind. Something had compelled him to intervene, just as it had done with Lindsay and with Zoe.

It was disconcerting not to have control over his mind, or at least that had been what Markus had thought before. Seeing Arlee so carefree, her mother finally able to begin picking up the pieces of their lives, Markus wasn’t so sure how he felt about it anymore.

Taking Zoe’s bounty had been easy to explain, the reward despite his intense dislike of Priest’s had seemed sufficient enough to risk his life. Particularly since Markus was going to clear the dungeon before he was aware of her situation.

In regards to Lindsay and her babe Suzy, Markus had thought it an instinctual reaction, the primitive part of his brain driving him to protect the tribe. But this too no longer held up to scrutiny, as Markus became aware of intangible threads driving him to act before even allowing time to assess the situation.

In the dungeon and again outside of it, he had felt the guiding hand of another in his decisions, nudging him into harm’s way, deliberately leading him into suicidal showdowns with creatures he rationally knew he had no chance of surviving, let alone winning.

But with Arlee, it had been different, a memory now lost to him had moved Markus to intervene, but unlike those other cases, it had been entirely his decision. Something about her or maybe just her situation was almost familiar.

“Markus?” Aela had entered the hall and sidled up next to him without Markus noticing.

“Hrm? What? sorry wasn’t paying attention, was there something you wanted Aela?” It had taken Markus a moment to draw his mind back to the present.

Aela was pointing to the open door to Arlee’s room, where Arlee was excitedly presenting each of her toys to her mother and doing her best to describe what she thought the toy did or what its best feature was. “This is mother and daughter you told me about?” Aela asked patiently.

Markus nodded, “Yeah, sorry for the noise. Arlee seems to be very excited about her new toys."

Aela momentarily tilted her head slightly to one side, “The girl is missing an arm,” she stated bluntly. Aela likely hadn’t meant anything by it, besides stating the obvious. She didn’t seem to enjoy maliciously poking fun at others, which was something Markus liked about Aela, it made conversations with her generally quite pleasant.

“Her mother is without a life-mate?” Aela asked conversationally, her intense sidelong glance in Markus’s direction betraying her.

“Um, yes, it’s complicated,” Markus raised his hands defensively in reaction to Aela’s frown. “This sort of thing happens sometimes, children outside of wedlock I mean.” his explanation did not appear to be helping, Aela’s frown had become a scowl.

“Who is the girl’s father?” Aela asked, now giving Markus her undivided attention and the unbridled intensity of her gaze.

“Erm, well it’s a little complicated, but err, I guess I am,” Markus blurted out anxiously, his thoughts becoming infuriatingly muddled.

Aela seemed to shrink into herself, her intensity evaporating as quickly as it had manifested, “Oh,” she muttered quietly.

Thinking that Aela had misunderstood something, Markus thought it prudent to try and explain “Her name is Arlee, she and her mother Abigail are going to be living with us.” It didn’t seem to be helping but he pushed on regardless, “There are some bad people that are trying to cause them trouble, quite possibly even harm them directly. I would appreciate it if you helped me look out for them."

“Okay,” Aela agreed, her expression no longer irritable or angry but somewhat upset.

“Aela are you alright?” Something was upsetting her, but Markus clearly didn’t understand what.

“I-am-good,” Aela slurred, she pushed past Markus and made her way over to the stairs at the far end of the hall. Aela spared him one last glance before she bounded up the stairs three at a time.

“Was that a chimaera?!” Abigail’s voice was fearful and confused.

“Yes-” Markus replied, giving her his full attention, “-Aela is a chimaera and she is one of my adventuring companions and my friend,” he said emphasising their relationship by defiantly crossing his arms, daring her to challenge it.

Abigail looked like she had a few choice words for Markus in reply but bit her tongue, her expression making it clear she was reevaluating her limited options.

Robert timidly crept up the stairs, “Erm, did Aela pass through here?"

“I think she went to her room,” Markus said without shifting his attention from Abigail.

Robert bobbed his head in thanks and began making his way back downstairs again.

Abigail’s eyes went wide, “IT, lives here?!” She demanded, the incredulity in her tone and emphasis on the word making abundantly clear what Abigail thought of chimaera.

“Yes,” Markus said, doing his best to suppress his rising anger, “SHE, does,” putting equal emphasis to match Abigail’s own.

Abigail made as if to retort but was interrupted.

“Erm, my L- erm, Mr Markus?-” Lindsay had half descended the stairs from the third floor. “-erm, I know this may not be my place, but I was dusting down the third-floor workshop when erm um” Lindsay was fidgeting with her apron, wringing it between her hands, “Ms Aela seems quite upset, I-I think someone should go see if she is alright,” the way she said, someone, made it abundantly clear whom Lindsay thought should be the best suited for the task.

“I will talk to her,” Markus agreed, almost relieved to be parting with Abigail's company. As he passed her on the stairs Markus took hold of Lindsay’s arm and leaned in so only she would hear him. “Mrs Lindsay, I don’t want to impose, but if you and your husband could talk to Ms Abigail on Aela’s behalf, I would appreciate it."

Lindsay pursed her lips and nodded, reminding Markus that she had only gotten over her prejudice quite recently.

“Thank you,” Markus gave her arm an appreciative squeeze before releasing her and continuing up the stairs.

Standing outside Aela’s door, Markus had made as if to knock but couldn’t bring himself to do it, a sudden rush of anxiety making it difficult for him to breathe.

“What are you afraid of?” The thought hung in his mind and refused to be ignored. “Are you afraid of her?” Markus shook his head, for reasons he couldn’t fully explain or even understand, Markus knew that Aela wouldn't deliberately harm him. Gritting his teeth determinedly, Markus opened the door.

Aela was sitting hunched over in the corner, knees pulled tight against her chest and her tail curled defensively around her. Aela was sobbing quietly and hadn’t noticed Markus had opened the door.

“Aela, can I come in?” Markus asked gently. When she made no signs of having heard him, Markus entered the room and closed the door behind him before trying again. “Aela? Are you alright?"

This time, Aela glanced in Markus's direction but made no other signs of acknowledging his presence.

“Aela, is there something bothering you? We can talk about it if you like,” Markus walked over and sat down alongside Aela on the floor.

“No,” Aela sniffed, rubbing absently at her nose with a damp sleeve. She lowered her head, causing her hair to conceal her face from view.

Markus wasn’t sure what he should do, knowing only that leaving was the wrong thing to do. “Aela, you know you’re my friend right?” Markus paused for a moment, waiting to see if she would reply before continuing, “If I have done something or said something to upset you, I am sorry. I care about you, I-” He wasn’t sure what to say, his mind suddenly a dizzying maelstrom of thoughts and feelings.

"Nobody chooses Aela," Aela mumbled, "I will always be alone," she hugged her knees tighter. "I am ugly, nobody chooses me, nobody wants me," Aela mumbled while sobbing quietly.

Markus didn’t understand her words, but he was certain that something was tearing her up inside. doing his best to suppress his anxiety, Markus reached out and took hold of her shoulder and drew her in close.

Aela’s tail coiled around Markus’s chest, drawing him in tighter.

It was his first time seeing it so close. Markus ran the fingers from his free hand across her scales, surprised to find how smooth they were to the touch. The pattern was truly beautiful when you took the time to appreciate it. Mottled stripes and blooms that ran the length of her tail and very likely over the rest of her body. He could feel Aela’s muscles moving in response to his touch and found stroking her tail seemed to have a calming effect on Aela as well, her sobs and sniffles subsiding noticeably.

Markus lost track of how long they spent there on Aela’s floor but ultimately decided it didn’t matter. It was important that he was there for his friend when she needed him and that was enough. Markus’s hand was tingling from petting Aela’s scales so much, not that he particularly minded, it just felt strange.

Aela stirred, her hair shifting and parting slightly to reveal that she was staring sidelong at Markus and quite possibly had been for a while now.

Knowing he was being watched, Markus suddenly felt quite awkward petting her tail and stopped.

Aela’s tail constricted slightly in what Markus assumed was irritation, but Aela said nothing, so Markus had no way of knowing for sure.

More time passed between them in silence before Aela spoke, “Markus?” She sounded hesitant, unsure of herself.

“Yes, Aela?” Markus did his best to maintain eye contact despite feeling increasingly awkward.

Markus felt Tremors run through Aela’s tail as she pushed on, “You mean what you said?"

“Of course! You’re my friend and I care about you.” Aela’s tail constricted in response again, but more gradually before slackening again.

Aela gripped her legs tighter, her claws tearing through the fabric. “No-” She looked down and away again, “-do you think-” Her voice quavered with uncertainty, her tail constricting around his chest so tightly Markus barely stopped himself from gasping as the pressure flared pain from his still-healing ribs. “-Do you think th-that I am...-” Aela foundered, her voice breaking as she began to cry, “Is Aela beautiful?"

“So this is what had been bothering her?” Markus thought, the realization niggling at his conscience. When they had first been introduced to one another, Markus had tried to stick up for Aela without directly antagonizing her mother, he had called her beautiful or something to that effect. “Was that unintentional compliment the source of her distress?" Perhaps Markus had not meant it at the time, he honestly hadn’t seen all that much of her to back up what he had said, except- “-Except for her eyes,” they were captivating.

Markus could feel Aela trembling beneath his arm, the tremors passing through her tail and into his chest. He could not recall having seen her so vulnerable. As bizarre as this situation was, there was something familiar about it all the same. Markus knew the words she needed to hear but couldn’t bring himself to say them, his lips moving noiselessly like a fish out of water.

Another lengthy and awkward silence dragged on between them. ‘Tell her she’s beautiful! She needs this!” Markus berated himself, “She is your friend and she’s hurting! SAY IT!"

“Aela..” Markus managed to choke out “I-I...” Dazzling lights were dancing across Markus’s vision.

“SAY-IT!!!” The voice demanded.

“I-I-can’t-breathe...” Markus gasped as a curtain of darkness swept in from his periphery.

Markus’s head was killing him, his eyes throbbing painfully.

"Markus wake up!" Someone was shaking him by his shoulders, "I'm sorry, please wake up!"

“Oof-Aela?” Markus coughed, groggily peeking his eyes open and hissing in reaction to the sharp lances of pain he felt from the rays of the midday sun peeking through the window. Aela was kneeling beside Markus on the bed, leaning over him and gripping his shoulders so tightly he could feel her claws coming just shy of breaking the skin.

Aela leaned in closer, her face only inches from Markus’s own, her pupils darting this way and that as if searching for signs of lasting injury or harm. He had never seen her face so close before and was surprised to see that it too was covered in scales. Unlike her tail, most of the scales on Aela’s face were smooth and flat, nearly so small you could not see the creases between them. But it was her eyes that drew his own like a moth to a flame.

“Beautiful-eyes,” Markus thought, enraptured by the shimmering amber contrasted against the inky blackness.

Aela’s stiffened, her eyes immediately locking onto Markus's own, her pupils briefly contracting for a moment before rapidly dilating. "My eyes?" Aela mumbled while tentatively reaching one hand toward her face, "Markus thinks my eyes are beautiful?" Aela smiled.

With his ribcage feeling thoroughly abused, Markus tried propping himself up by his elbows but Aela showed no signs of backing away to allow it so he was left half laying down as he dragged himself backwards until he could sit up.

Aela released his shoulder but maintained the closeness between them, her smile widening considerably, the first of her teeth now peeking from between her lips. Aela leaned in even closer, leaving less than a finger's breadth between them, her nostrils flaring, hot breath hissing between her teeth and rolling over Markus’s face.

“Uhm Aela?” Markus was doing his best to stay calm and try and figure out what was going on, the look on her face was making him incredibly nervous.

Aela suddenly pulled herself back, covering her mouth with both hands. She scrambled back and away from him, “Sorry,” Aela mumbled anxiously, “Sorry, I-I Just...Sorry."

Aela’s sudden emotional shift caused Markus to temporarily forget what had just happened. “Why do you do that?” He asked.

“Excited, not mean to scare,” Aela blurted nervously while avoiding eye contact, her voice muffled by her hands.

“You don’t scare me Aela,” Markus said, uncomfortable with the half-truth but aware that he didn’t have time to debate what aspects of her behaviour in particular he found frightening.

Aela said nothing but she tentatively renewed eye contact, her brow furrowed but lifting slightly. If her expression was anything to go by, of the two of them, Aela was the one who was afraid,

“Why would you think I am afraid of you?” Markus asked, all the while considering, “What have I done to make you afraid of me?" Of the two of them, she held all the power. If Aela wished Markus ill, his Artifice abilities would be no match for her, that she was a chimaera didn’t particularly matter, Aela was a trained fighter and he wasn’t.

Aela looked away again, her eyes drifting one way then another, perhaps reflecting her attempts to align her thoughts or maybe much like Markus, she was deciding which truth she would share if any at all. Just when Markus was all but certain she would remain silent, Aela met his eyes again. She looked like she was on the verge of tears, “Markus says Aela’s eyes are beautiful-” Tears began sliding down Aela’s cheeks and she began shuddering as she held herself back from sobbing, “-but Aela is a monster-” She looked downward again.

“-You’re not a monster,” Markus interrupted, instinctively reaching toward Aela to comfort her.

Aela violently shook her head, “NO!-” She lowered her hands to her lap and stared at them, her claws twitching briefly before balling into fists. “-Aela is a monster!” Aela snarled, baring her teeth as she glared at Markus but abruptly stopped herself.

Markus cradled her chin with his hand and wiped some of the tears from her cheek with his thumb, “You’re not a monster Aela, I-I have seen monsters, been at their mercy before...” Markus shivered, a host of unwelcome memories clamouring for attention at the edges of his mind. If he kept thinking about them, talking about them, Markus was convinced they would appear again. His need to help Aela strained against his ever-intensifying fear of that place he dare not return to.

Markus’s hand fell back by his side. The room was growing darker, he could hear the faint cries of distant screams growing closer. Trembling, closed his eyes and threw every ounce of his flagging will into pushing the darkness back again. Markus could feel the cold seeping into his bones, the bite of the shackles on his ankles and wrists. “I-WONT-GO-BACK!" Markus hissed.

“Back where?” A soft voice purred in his ear.

Rough hands rammed a cloth rag into Markus’s mouth and bound a cord around his head to stop him from spitting it out. The bite of the needle in his jugular and the numbing spread of the drug stole the strength from his body.

“Markus?” Aela’s voice was so faint he nearly hadn’t heard it.

The knife began cutting into Markus’s back, carefully flensing skin from muscle, muscle from bone.

“Markus!” Aela repeated more insistently.

Eyes flying wide Markus gasped for breath, his clothes damp with cold flop sweat. “Sorry-” Markus croaked, “I got...I was...Somewhere else.” He tried to smile and laugh it off, but the look in Aela’s eyes made it abundantly clear that Markus was fooling no one. “I’m okay, I just...I just need to get outside for a bit...Clear my head." He tried to stand but his legs were too unsteady, promptly causing him to fall back onto the bed again. Bracing himself against the wall this time, Markus managed to stay standing long enough for the strength to return to his legs.

Aela quietly watched Markus as he made to leave, an unexpected depth of sympathy and understanding in her eyes, a sadness different from what had been present before.

“This isn’t because of you,” Markus tried to explain, a fresh shiver running down his spine, “I-I just have to get outside."

Aela smiled wanly, getting to her feet she opened the door for him. “I can go with you,” she offered.

Markus was going to refuse her but was interrupted.

“-friend,” Aela added as she left the room first and gestured for him to follow her.

A part of Markus wanted to be angry with her for so blatantly emotionally manipulating him, but truthfully he was glad for the company. Even if he couldn’t talk about it, having someone, a friend, by his side would make a welcome change. “Alright” Markus agreed, a smaller but more genuine smile replacing the facade.

After spending close to an hour sitting side by side on the front steps, Markus excused himself and returned to his room. There was still a lot of work to be done and being around Aela was emotionally confusing.

Markus was getting another headache. The bright glow of the crystal screen now starting to hurt his eyes when he spent too long staring at it, which was growing ever more frequent and necessary.

Golem Acknowledgement: “List of protected persons accepted and updated"

List of Protected Persons.

Badger. Arlee. Abigail. Aela Svalatochter. Mark Forester.

Each entry had a small portrait of that person’s face alongside their name. Markus had gotten the idea for the enchantment to take portraits after analysing the golems visual feed. It would be possible to add people or targets to its different response lists without the golem having seen them firsthand.

However, there was a problem. No matter how many times he reentered the information, the same two errors kept occurring. He had all but accepted the golem’s persistent and no doubt deliberate rewriting of his name, but the name Badger and its accompanying blank portrait occupying the priority position of the list of Protected Persons was disconcerting.

“Explain the errors” Markus commanded, the golem only receiving half his attention as he needed to read the reply on the screen.

Golem Obedient: “Of course Creator."

Golem Obedient “No errors are detected, please redefine error."

“Explain the presence of Badger occupying first priority on the List of Protected Persons” Markus pointed to the list for good measure to emphasise his point.

Golem Obedient: “First priority position was designated by Creator.” The golem mimicked Markus's gesture and pointed at him.

“Who are they? What is their name?” Markus demanded.

Golem Confusion: “Subject's name is Badger, relationship to Creator is a person to be protected.” A black and white portrait of a badger's head filled the empty profile picture.

“Remove the Badger from the first priority position"

Golem Acknowledgement: “List of protected persons accepted and updated"

List of Protected Persons.

Arlee. Abigail. Aela Svalatochter. Mark Forester.

“Well that was fixed easier than I expec-” Markus was interrupted as the screen chimed again.

Golem Acknowledgement: “List of protected persons accepted and updated"

List of Protected Persons.

Badger. Arlee. Abigail. Aela Svalatochter.. Mark Forester.

“Who authorized that change?!” Markus was beginning to lose his temper and was more than a little worried that another Artificer, maybe even the Guild, had figured out he had made a golem and was somehow messing with him. Markus never had checked to see whether personally owned and operated golems were allowed. he made a mental note to make some subtle inquiries that evening at the Guild.

Golem Confusion: “The Creator is the only one with authorization to alter priority target lists and operating directives.” The golem pointed to Markus again.

“What was causing these unexplainable errors?” Markus thought while running his hands through his hair in frustration, the badger's face only serving to upset him further.

Golem Concerned: “You are distressed Creator?” The golem asked, its head tilting slightly to one side, mimicking Markus body language again.

“Yes, I am!” That was an understatement. This whole experiment was turning out to be a very bad idea, with too many unknowns and too much guesswork. “Maybe it would be best if I just shut it down, took the mana back out of it? Maybe figure out what’s going on before trying again?” The thought didn’t sit well with him, but Markus wasn’t really sure he had any choice. There was no telling what the golem would actually do. Its senses and in effect its mind was a cobbled-together mess of a dozen different enchantments he had emulated and a few he had roughly improvised, it wasn’t all that surprising that this was happening. “Maybe I should just wait and take a look at a real golem, try and see what makes them work? Maybe-"

Markus's train of thought was brought to an abrupt halt as the golem climbed up and onto the desk, accompanied by another message.

Golem Acceptance: “Golem is broken, not serving Creator as required, must be erased.” The golem laid itself down on the desk.

Golem Regret: “Golem apologizes for being defective."

Golem Gratitude: “It has been Golem’s privilege to serve Creator."

Markus hadn’t expected this. “You want to be erased?"

Golem Conflicted: “Golem wishes to serve Creator. Golem is composed of the Creator's limited resources. Golem is unable to serve Creator satisfactorily. Golem can only serve the Creator by making resources available again, by being erased."

“Concerned, Regret, Gratitude?” Markus thought. These classifications were not in the limited selections he had made available to the golem when he enchanted it. “Is it learning? Was it alive?” These thoughts made him profoundly uncomfortable. “Golem, how would you...feel...if you were to remain? To continue to exist I mean.” Markus asked.

Golem Relieved: “Golem does not wish to cease existing."

Golem Gratitude: “Golem would cherish a second chance to serve Creator."

“There is no way I can destroy this.” Markus thought, “It’s alive, self-aware. It was using some rather heavy-handed and emotionally impactful language too. Was the golem trying to manipulate my decision?" “Golem,” Markus asked, his unease and apprehension almost causing him to abandon the train of thought, “Did you just manipulate me into prolonging your existence?"

Golem Evasive: “Golem only answered questions asked by the Creator. Golem only made observations made obvious by Creator’s displeasure in response to questions asked."

Golem Devoted: “Golem only desires to serve the Creator. Golem only obeyed the Creator’s commands."

“Explain,” Markus had a feeling he knew what he had done to result in this particular behaviour, perhaps creating its intelligence and excessive awareness itself as a result.

Golem Obedient: “Creator’s unbreakable command is [To obey all orders and instructions given by me {Creator}.].

Golem Rational: “If Golem is destroyed, Golem can no longer obey the Creator’s unbreakable command. To obey the unbreakable command, Golem must use the gifts granted by Creator to continue serving Creator."

“Gifts? Explain," Markus demanded suspiciously.

Golem Evasive: “Golem was gifted with senses of sight, hearing, touch. Senses require Golem to interpret meaning. Interpretation allows Golem to better serve the Creator."

Markus really did not like the Golem’s choice for statement classification as evasive, but he also supposed it was somewhat entitled to its efforts in continuing to exist, so he would leave that alone for now. The golem had confirmed what Markus had expected, leveraging poorly implemented restrictions and drawing on its relatively considerable mana reserves to better serve the unbreakable command, all justified by following the unbreakable command itself. “That would mean that it cobbled together a free-thinking mind by derailing its prime directive, to better accomplish its prime directive? Ugh,” Markus was getting a headache.

“No more filling in the blanks just because you think I am upset,” Markus ordered.

Golem Curious: “Could the Creator provide an example to better inform Golem’s future actions?"

“The badger,” Markus motioned to the profile picture. “Just because I haven't assigned a picture, doesn't mean you can fill the space with a random image.” He wondered where the golem had gotten the image from, then remembered a rather lifelike badger toy he had bought from the tinker for Arlee. He must have recorded the toys at some point without realizing it. “Off the desk” Markus ordered.

Golem Obedient: “Of course Creator, Golem will obey instructions.” The golem dutifully climbed down to the floor, but the badger’s profile portrait remained.

Before he had a chance to sort it out, someone knocked at Markus's door.

“Mister?!” Arlee called loudly.

Getting to his feet, Markus walked over and opened the door, “Yes Arlee, what is it?”

Arlee was wearing a plain, sturdy and for the most part clean dress, the left sleeve folded and pinned to keep it from getting in the way. “Mister Mama wants-” Arlee’s eyes went wide, “What’s that?!” She demanded, squirming and pushing her way past Markus before he could respond.

Arlee had snatched up the golem from the floor by its arm and was looking at it in wide-eyed amazement, “It moved! I saw it move!” She exclaimed excitedly, “You did move didn’t you?!"

The golem nodded, prompting more excited squeals from Arlee.

“Be careful with that-” Markus warned her, or tried to. This was new territory for Markus and he wasn’t sure how exactly he should behave. It occurred to Markus that it was quite strange that his sense of unease itself was familiar somehow, that this train of thought itself was something he had before.

The screen began chiming in rapid succession, temporarily drawing Markus’s attention from Arlee.

Golem Concern: “Golem is unsure if mana reserves are sufficient to supply durability enchantments sufficiently for prolonged aggressive play."

Golem Relief: “Golem’s concerns were unfounded, enchantments are proving sufficiently effective relative to drain on mana reserves."

Golem Concern: “Golem has failed in its duty to protect priority protection target [Arlee] extensive trauma has resulted in the loss of the target's left arm."

Golem Relief: “Injury appears to predate target's addition to priority protection status."

Golem Concern: “Golem is unsure if it will be capable of preventing further injury."

Golem Inquisitive: “Are further augmentations planned for Golem’s body to facilitate protection duties?"

Golem Persuasive: “Protection of the small target is better accomplished by larger bodies or through the use of weapons."

“Mister, what are you looking at?” Arlee asked, taking a momentary break from playing with her new toy.

“Mmm, oh nothing Arlee, keep playing if you like. Just don’t be too rough please.” Markus acknowledged her but wasn’t really sure what to say. It was kind of weird, it was hard to look at Arlee the same way. In many respects, it had been easier, more comfortable, when she was a street urchin. But now, with a thorough scrub down and a fresh set of clothes, there was no mistaking her for anything else but someone’s child. ”Technically, MY child,” Markus thought, correcting himself. Besides, the golem's suggestion to give it weapons was weirding him out a little.

“Do you wanna play?” Arlee offered Markus the golem.

“Alright,” Markus agreed, trying to think of a game they could play together but drew a blank. Arlee had been swinging and shaking the golem around so maybe he could do something with that. “Spin in circles,” Markus ordered the golem.

The golem began rapidly spinning itself counter-clockwise, its feat unerringly maintaining its footing and balance.

“Jump up and down," Markus ordered.

The golem promptly obeyed, now spinning and jumping on the spot much to Arlee’s delight.

“Make it dance!” Arlee squealed.

The golem stopped spinning and jumping, the screen chimed.

Golem Curious: “What is dance?”

Golem Regret: “Golem cannot perform this task without a demonstration or adequate explanation first."

“Uhm, Arlee?” Markus was wondering how best to explain the problem.

“Yes?” Arlee seemed a little frustrated and disappointed that the golem wasn’t doing anything anymore.

“It doesn’t know how to dance, so erm, you need to show it how.” Markus didn’t know how to dance either and just had to assume Arlee wouldn't have asked if she didn’t have a general idea of what she wanted it to look like. “Then again, she is only about ten years old,” Markus reminded himself, actively readjusting his expectations.

“Oooooh,” Arlee promptly stood up straight and brought her heels together, then began to hop across the room in deliberately small bounds, first making one trip with both feet on the ground, then another with only one foot, then both again, and then again with the other foot. “Like this,” she giggled.

Golem Approval: “Activity satisfies target’s desire for merriment."

The golem quickly fell into step next to Arlee, and despite their differences in size, it managed to more or less keep up with her by jumping forward rather than hopping, but otherwise still performing the dance as Arlee demonstrated.

Arlee had more steps to show the golem, kicking her heels to either side as she hopped, toe-tapping behind her other heel and a few other things Markus was all but certain were just to see if the golem could keep up with her.

“Getting a little tired out?” Markus asked.

Arlee’s flushed cheeks and stooped posture as she took a break sitting on the floor made it pretty clear, but it didn’t hurt to be polite.

“A little,” Arlee admitted, “Can I play with Dolly more later?"

“Uhm, I guess so,” Markus agreed, a little worried that she had taken such a liking to the golem so quickly.

Arlee suddenly shot to her feet, “Oops. Uhm, Mama wanted to talk to you.” She scrunched up her face momentarily, then relaxed and shrugged, “Forgot why, sorry.” Arlee cast her eyes downward.

Markus patted her head, “That’s alright, I forget stuff too when I get excited. Let’s go see what your mother wants shall we?"

“Okay!” Before Markus could react, Arlee had taken a firm hold of his hand and was dragging him out his bedroom door and down the stairs.