Chapter 13

Markus sat patiently in the Guild office waiting room. He stared at the face of the elaborate glass timepiece installed across the room but didn’t read it. This was the first time Markus had seen a timepiece of such high quality. Both its externally visible workings and internal mana fuelled enchantments were quite interesting and unique.

The nuance in the enchantments was fascinating. The current focus of his attention was an enchantment that generated a minor tremor each time the hands of the timepiece moved. It was an interesting variation on the enchantment, but the minor and deliberate emulation of a flaw was something Markus personally found quite wasteful. It was an artifice quite typical of the nobility really.

Turning his attention to the office doors, Markus wasn’t surprised to find that they were enchanted as well, but he was intrigued by the properties he found. Besides the otherwise standard enchantments of absorption and reinforcement, the doors were partially animated and would only open when the final and otherwise missing portion of the enchantment was returned to the circuit.

Markus had seen that missing portion of the enchantment on one of the senior Guild clerk’s keys. The logic behind using such an enchantment was reasonably sound, limiting the ability for the doors to be opened to two primary methods. The first, of course, was as intended, reintroducing the key to one of the doors. While the second method was to drain the mana from the doors by attempting forced entry. The second approach would almost certainly attract enough attention that only the truly foolish or desperate would attempt it.

Although there was a third way as well, Markus, or any other Artificer with the required specialization, could deliberately alter the enchantments and render them useless, returning the doors to a relative state of mundanity, therefore presenting no real impediment at all. Not that Markus felt particularly inclined to do so, knowing it would only cause trouble.

So Markus continued to wait.

The senior clerk at the front desk had told Markus that the Guild chapter master was busy with other Guild matters, but would see him within the hour. However, that had been two and a half hours ago.

Markus frowned, tempted to get up and go home then return on another day. But he knew that if he did this, the Guild Chapter-Master would probably just make him wait again out of spite.

Most of the nobility were like that, conforming to an unspoken rule of wasting the time of their ‘lessers’ to shore up their own sense of importance and superiority. It didn’t matter that the Guild Chapter-Master had requested an audience with Markus for Guild business, the expectation would almost certainly remain the same.

Markus loathed petty tyrants. During the past three years, his life had been overturned all too frequently by the whims of men and women whose only right to do so came by the fortune of their birth. That wasn’t to say that all nobles were bad, Markus had observed acts of charity and restraint too. But for Markus, the good was vastly outweighed by the bad.

To help pass the time, Markus began alternating the colour of the lights in the chandelier on the ceiling above. He couldn’t appreciate the changes, not really. Channelling mana bled the colour from the world, leaving only black, white and grey in its wake. Still, it served as a suitable distraction for the time being and didn’t expend any of his own mana to do it.

Another hour passed by in silence and Markus was just about ready to leave. He had stopped entertaining himself with the lights a quarter-hour or so ago, bored by the now monotonous mental exercise.

Markus stood up and stretched. He was just about prepared to head home. The way Ms Anabelle had reacted, Markus would have thought this sort of nonsense would have been lessened somewhat in the wake of his assumed importance, but apparently, he was wrong.

Markus walked over to the door he had entered through earlier, opened it, and walked through into the hallway.

He was in a poor mood now, irritated and a little angry. Even Markus's patience had its limits. He considered just leaving the Guildhall outright and going straight home, but Markus knew better than to do that. The egos of the nobility were such fragile things. If he left without providing an excuse, the Guild Chapter-Master would probably find a way to take offence and exact a petty vengeance for it.

Markus stopped by the front desk and decided the clerks didn’t deserve his displeasure, so he put on the emotional mask he always wore when dealing with strangers and acquaintances.

The senior clerk had noticed his approach but didn’t address Markus until he was certain of Markus’s desire to be spoken with. “Mr Markus, did your appointment go well?” The middle-aged man’s balding head was sweating nervously.

Markus did not envy the clerks, theirs was a near-universally thankless job of swallowed pride and masks just like his own. “No, the Guild Chapter-Master appears to be otherwise indisposed and I have other appointments that require my attention,” he replied diplomatically. “If the Guild Chapter-Master decides it is important enough, we can try to reschedule for another time."

The senior clerk grew more nervous, “P-perhaps I can check and see if he is available now?”He turned to leave.

“No,” Markus refused to wait another moment, “As I said, I have other business to attend to.” He knew better than to back down now. If Markus capitulated, the Guild Chapter-Master would almost certainly make him wait even longer, just because he could, then after a suitable amount of Markus’s time was wasted, he would be informed that perhaps they would have to reschedule after all. Markus was in no mood for these games and honestly had better things to do.

“A-ah, right, I see,” the senior clerk dabbed at his perspiring brow with his handkerchief, “Another time then,” he agreed.

The junior clerk was now looking quite worried and also looked like he wanted to say something but couldn’t because of etiquette and propriety.

Markus chose to ignore it, this wasn’t his problem anymore and without a guarantee of some sort, it wouldn't be again. Leaving the Guildhall, he headed home to find a more productive use of his time.

The invitation came sooner than Markus had expected, a request to luncheon for the following afternoon delivered by the same senior clerk later that very same day.

Markus had considered rebuffing this overture out of hand and would have if it was only his own safety and future he needed to worry about. But it wasn’t, so Markus had swallowed his pride, forced a smile and agreed to attend the less formal appointment.

It was another tactic of the nobility, often employed to save face and reputation that would otherwise be lost in situations such as these. This was also probably as close to a guarantee Markus could expect, not that he liked the prospect of wasting still more time with no surety of what he needed from the Guild.

Markus hated this, the forced compromises and deliberate time-wasting irked him on a primal level. It would be easy to walk away from it all, of course, all he would have to do is abandon his principles and by extension the people who had come to rely on him. Markus had willingly bound himself by his own choices and he had to pay the price for them.

It wasn’t all bad of course. Being a part of the day to day lives of those he was sheltering in his new home was like a balm to his soul. The little everyday activities, dramas and triumphs they took for granted were something Markus hadn’t known he was missing until he had been close enough to witness them first hand.

Ultimately, Markus knew he was little more than a visitor in their lives, someone they tolerated for what he had to offer them and that when what he had to offer ran out, they would leave, just like everyone else had done before them. But knowing this, Markus made a point of appreciating it all the more while he could.

Markus released the golem, Dolly, from his backpack when he got home, there was no need to keep it stowed away and Arlee would likely want to play a game of hide-and-find. He didn’t bother giving it a command to find Arlee, Markus knew it would find her on its own, driven by its existing command to protect her.

Returning to his room, Markus was thankful he hadn’t told anyone why he was visiting the Guildhall, his diminishment in their eyes would likely be more than he could bear on top of everything else. Better to just keep his problems to himself.

Markus heard Aela, Abigail and Lindsay engaging in energetic conversation, but the workshop door was closed so he couldn’t make any of it out. Markus didn’t think much of it, instead, entering his room and closing the door behind him. He felt the need to be alone right now, to brood in the darkness.

To that end, Markus shuttered the windows, his room now only faintly illuminated by the monitor. This was familiar to Markus in a way he could not explain, the solitude and lighting, even the monitor, it was a scene engraved upon his soul.

A series of tapping and clicking sounds echoed in his mind, the monitor drawing Markus’ focus like a moth to the flame. Letters began stringing across the screen, forming words that initially didn’t make sense, nothing more than garbled misplaced letters. But slowly he began to understand them, recognising the now-familiar patterns and flow of the words.

I am sorry, but I don’t think I can keep doing this. She hates me, she needs someone better to look after her, I’m not enough. I know I made a promise, I know she is family, but I am not enough and I don’t know what to do. I don’t understand why she hates me more than she hates you. She hates me more than you even though you are the one who abandoned us and left me to take care of her on my own.

I don’t know why I am typing this, you will never see it, never send a reply. I guess I just wanted to let you know that I hate you too, for hurting us like this. I am not going to send any more messages into the void hoping you will come back to us. I am tired of being alone, being hated for something that isn’t my fault. Tomorrow after taking her to the convention, I will drop her off and they will take her away. I will be free of this burden, of you and her.

You can’t blame me for this. You lost your right to judge me when dad died and you abandoned us, goodbye forever.

The words began to remove themselves letter by letter, one word at a time. After less than a minute, they had disappeared entirely, leaving no sign that they had even been there at all. Markus briefly mused with the idea of a stress-induced hallucination but knew he was wrong. The words had been real, or near enough anyway. Markus also knew with unnerving certainty that those had been his words, he had written every one of them.

It was difficult to accept at first, the contents of the monitor’s message warring against the fragile image Markus had built of himself. The revelation that he was not a good person and the shattering of that illusion was threatening to overwhelm what little of his core self remained.

For years Markus had believed that his family had abandoned him, that they had deemed Markus unworthy of the time and effort to find him. But now he knew that it was only partly true and to make it worse, Markus had apparently abandoned what family remained in turn.

Through the lens of this revelation, Markus gained new insight into his life, the justification for the events of the past ten years. It was the cosmic justice of the universe exacting its due for his heinous actions.

Self-loathing had always come easily to Markus. The combination of ruthless introspection and brutal honesty left nowhere for his fragile psyche to hide and no excuses to preserve his vulnerable ego.

It was an odd thing to feel pride in, but in a deranged sort of way, Markus had felt prideful of it. A self-delusion that this strict self-evaluation somehow made him more honest than other people which in turn concluded he was at least in some small way a good person. But now?...No, it was not nearly enough.

Markus wandered around his room aimlessly for a while, his mind racing so feverishly that he couldn’t keep track of his own train of thought. At some point, Markus had done what he usually did in moments of emotional distress. He slumped down in an empty corner and stared vacantly at the floor. The nihilistic apathy had a way of clearing his mind, not so much calming as it was pervasively numbing, like a bath in ice water.

Markus didn’t know how long he sat there in the dark. However, eventually, Markus came back to himself. The lack of daylight filtering through the window shutters making it clear that it was late in the evening, and the stiffness of his muscles told Markus he was done with sitting in the corner.

Dinner was a jovial affair, the other adults and Arlee chatting with one another over hearty stew and fresh-baked bread. Just being around them all made Markus start to feel better.

Markus couldn’t bring himself to join their merriment, feeling like his participation would somehow taint it. So he wore his mask, smiling and quietly eating his meal. When he was finished, Markus quietly excused himself and began making his way back upstairs to his room.

Markus was just closing the door to his room when he saw Aela walking purposefully towards him from the stairs.

“Are you alright?” She asked.

Markus's immediate instinct was to lie, but he chose not to, “No, not really."

Aela pursed her lips momentarily, “Do you want to talk?” Her earnestness making it difficult to dismiss her out of hand.

“No,” Markus shook his head and stepped farther into his room, “Come in,” he didn't check to see if she would follow, but he left the door open anyway and sat down on the bed.

Aela followed him into the room and closed the door behind her, then nervously sat on the bed within arms-reach of him. She waited patiently for him to speak, glancing at Markus while looking down at the floor.

Markus allowed the silence to build between them, giving his eyes a chance to adjust to the dim light. Then, unbidden, the words that had been reverberating through his mind since that afternoon spilled out all at once, “Do you think I am a good person?" He felt hollow in their wake, emptied of resolve and burdened by a mounting sense of self-loathing.

Aela stiffened her expression making it clear that she was surprised and more than a little confused. “Of course, yes, Markus is a good person,” Aela said and then gently shook her head, “Why do you think you are not?"

Markus balled his fists, clutching at the bedsheets, “I don't know who I am. I know we talked about it a little before, but truly, I don't remember anything beyond about ten years ago, and what I remember since then...” His throat suddenly became dry and he had to swallow a number of times before he could continue, “-Most of what I remember, I want to forget." Markus looked Aela in the eye, “But sometimes something is familiar and every so often a memory from before, or part of one, will come back,"

“Is this not a good thing?” Aela asked, her expression puzzled but concerned, “Remembering what is lost is good,” she sounded less certain of herself as she said it, no doubt in response to Markus's troubled expression.

“Sometimes,” Markus agreed, but then he turned away from Aela again, looking past her, his gaze fixed on the monitor, “I remembered something that I did Aela and I don't know what to do about it." Markus’s fists tightened their grip further, so tightly that pain began radiating up his arms, “For years I based everything on the assumption that I had been a good person, that what happened to me was just bad luck. That I had been in the wrong place at the wrong time. But what if it wasn't like that? What if I deserved it?"

“Markus, don't say that,” Aela said, her voice trembling slightly.

Markus's voice began to crack and waver, “What if everything that happened to me was because of something I had done? What if I deserved it? What if no one came looking for me because of what I had done to them?" His face burned with shame and he could not bring himself to look at Aela.

Aela was quiet for a while, her lips drawn together and eyes downcast, almost certainly because she didn't know what to say. “You are a good person,” Aela said quietly, “You are kind without expecting it returned. You are good to people, even when no one is watching.” She gnawed her lower lip briefly before continuing, as if unsure of herself, or perhaps working up the nerve, “You help me see myself beautiful,” Aela blushed, her scaled cheeks darkening.

Markus noticed Aela was sideling closer but was too paralyzed by existential apathy to do anything about it. “Why do you c-” Markus was stunned into silence as he looked up and found Aela’s face only inches from his own. She was staring so intensely that he couldn't help but become flustered, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment as he looked away. “Why are you looking at me like that?"

“Markus is special,” Aela stated matter of factly “Markus is Aela’s friend,” she reached out with both hands, and before he could say or do anything in response, Aela drew Markus into a tight embrace, dragging him bodily across the remaining space between them to do it. “Markus said friends do things for each other," Aela gulped hard “Markus always has kind words for Aela, knows what to say when she is sad." Aela briefly squeezed him tighter, her body trembling, “But when Markus is sad, Aela doesn't know what words to say,” Aela squeezed him again as her voice began to quaver, tears running down her cheeks, “Aela just wants Markus to be happy,"

Markus was touched, he had begun to suspect Aela held some sort of misdirected infatuation with him, but her words suggested a deeper connection between them. “You're here when I needed you most Aela,” Markus gave Aela a small smile, “Thank you,” he leaned in and hugged her.

Aela stiffened, but promptly overcame her surprise and fiercely began hugging Markus back so tightly he feared his ribs would crack. Slowly, she eased her grip but did not release him entirely. Aela began shivering again, “Aela is sorry she doesn't know the words, but she will always have arms to wrap around Markus when he needs them."

Markus felt better than he had in a long time like fresh energy was coursing through his veins.

Even though he had probably only gotten a few hours of sleep, it had been the best sleep Markus could remember having had in his entire life. The two of them had stayed up into the early hours of the morning, talking about their lives before they had met one another or as much as Markus could bear to speak aloud anyway.

It felt good to let it out, to share it with someone he trusted. It had been easier than he thought, the memories of his incarceration and torture seemingly losing most of their erstwhile strangling hold over him the moment their existence was brought into the metaphorical light.

Rolling out of bed, Markus thought it might be a good idea to make up for the missed stamina exercises of the past few days by undertaking some strength-building exercises instead.

They had seemed so bizarre when Aela had first explained and then demonstrated them to him. But it was hard to contest the results. After a little less than a week of monotonously lifting a number of reasonably heavy objects in different ways, he had already begun to find it easier to perform the exercises, so he figured it had to be working.

Markus still found it hard to believe how casually Aela could lift these same objects with no real apparent effort, often resorting to exercising one-handed or foregoing them entirely in favour of entirely different exercises.

After pushing himself until his body began to tire, Markus decided he should probably head downstairs for a late breakfast.

“Markus? Just the time!” Aela flashed Markus a smile. By the looks of it, she had just finished her own exercises. “It is time I taught you to fight."

Markus froze, “Oh, erm, um, are you sure? I don't think we have any training weapons...”

Aela’s smile widened, the tips of her teeth now visible as she ran her tongue over her lips, “Don't need them, today I will teach to fight without weapons."

Markus didn't really have time to think of a good excuse, as Aela dashed towards him, closing the distance between them in moments.

Leaving Markus with only enough time to clumsily stagger back towards the stairs. Aela snatched hold of his right arm then shifted her weight and momentum, throwing Markus bodily into the middle of the open floor.

Before Markus could get to his feet, Aela was on top of him again, grabbing his left arm and wrenching it behind his back while she leveraged her considerable weight to pin him to the ground.

“Come on!” Aela laughed, “Fight back!"

Markus wriggled and squirmed but could not free himself. “Sorry for this!” He grunted, reaching and taking a handful of Aela’s hair and throwing his weight to one side in an attempt to throw her.

Only, it didn't work, her own weight and strength far exceeding Markus's ability to accomplish anything besides eliciting another laugh from Aela.

Markus struck out hard with his heel.

Aela didn't stop laughing as she let him go and rolled to the side.

Markus clambered to his feet, only to find Aela was already standing in a fighting pose, her fists high as she closed the space between them again.

“Guard up!” Aela encouraged him as she threw her first punch, a vicious right hook that came within an inch of obliterating Markus's nose. It would have connected too if Aela hadn’t missed on purpose.

Unsure of what he should be doing to defend himself, Markus tried copying her, balling his hands into fists and raising them to about his eye level.

"Good!” Aela said, “Now hit me!”, she suddenly leaned in close with her guard lowered.

Primal instincts told Markus not to trust the opening, but he threw a weak punch with his left fist anyway.

Aela’s counterattack was swift and brutal, batting his arm aside, stepping close, taking a firm hold on his right arm and sweeping Markus legs out from underneath him. Aela then launched a straight punch at Markus's exposed neck but stopped just short of his trachea. “Smart has good instincts,” Aela grinned as she withdrew her fist and dragged Markus to his feet.

“Didn’t-feel-like-it” Markus panted, feeling thoroughly beaten.

Aela shook her head, “When mother taught me, I took the opening, mother’s fist caught me between my eyes.” She grinned, the glint in her eyes making it clear Aela would have had history repeat itself with a clear conscience. “Mother says pain is best teacher, forces student to remember next time,"

Markus was going to point out that blunt force trauma to the head would likely be counterproductive to that idea but quickly thought better of it, opting for a different tact instead. “I don't think I can do all that much to you Aela, even if I knew how to fight, you're just way too strong for me."

It did not have the desired effect. Aela shrugged, “There is always someone stronger, bigger, tougher, sneakier,” she stated it as a matter of fact and shrugged.

While he admitted she had a point, it didn't seem particularly helpful to Markus who still didn't know how to throw a real punch or to swing a sword properly. “Okay, that's probably true, but I’m not a chimaera Aela, I can't just bounce back after being bludgeoned in the head. Hell, my arms hurt already just from being thrown around."

Aela lowered her guard, “This is true,” she chewed on her lip as she took a moment to think. “Perhaps Aela will teach Markus through showing, then after he is ready?” Aela offered amiably.

Desperately glad for the reprieve, Markus took it before Aela could change her mind. “Deal,” he agreed.

“Alright,” Aela raised her guard again, “I will move slow, not hurt you, so you can learn,” she dashed at Markus again, seemingly just as quickly as before, only this time, Aela slowed and was much gentler as she tackled him and wrapped her arms around his waist, cushioning against the impact as she bore him to the ground.

By the time practice was over, Markus had a new and reluctant appreciation for relativity. After all, relative to his ribs being bruised, the freshly bruised muscles of his abdomen and arms were nothing really.

Even without any real deliberate force behind her actions, Aela was so much stronger than him that she often hurt Markus without meaning to. This was why Markus was thankful he had spoken up when he had. There was no telling how badly injured he could have been if Aela had continued fighting him as seriously as she had originally intended.

Markus knew he wasn't a fighter, not really. Sure, he could pick up a weapon and swing it around, but Markus honestly lacked motivation until there was a real and present danger, which admittedly Aela could probably provide, well, that is if he didn't have a hangup over attempting to hurt a friend anyway.

Aela had said she wanted him to buy some staves for weapons practice the next time he was out and Markus was not looking forward to what that had entailed. Or at least initially, until she had explained that she would be mostly drilling Markus on specific fighting form exercises. Aela had also strongly encouraged Markus to buy a pair of shields, roughly demonstrating with her arms the two different sizes she wanted for him to acquire.

When Markus had asked why she had a need for two different sizes, Aela had replied rather bluntly that she did not think Markus strength training had progressed nearly far enough for him to reliably handle the larger, proper sized shield correctly or safely.

Again, Markus had to admit she was probably right. Most martial combatants had years of strength, endurance and specialized martial training under their belts before entering a dungeon for the first time. Markus didn't. Quite frankly, he was dangerously underprepared and now knew just how badly from first-hand experience.

It was still a little difficult for Markus to keep his bruised pride out of it. Even knowing Aela was only doing her best to better help him defend himself and survive. Which was all well and good, but a part of him rankled at being thrown around like a rag doll all the same.

It was an eye-opening experience to feel first-hand the difference between the physical abilities of a chimaera and himself. It was no contest, even though they were not too dissimilar in height, Aela could dispatch him without any real effort if she wanted to. At the same time, rather than terrifying him, Markus found it oddly reassuring. Now quite confident in his understanding of just how nasty a monster in the dungeon it would need to be in order to make its way past her to get to him in the first place.

On a more positive note, it was nice to see Aela coming out of her shell, more confident and self-assured than when they had first met. In some respects, it was like night and day. There was more of her mother in her than Markus would have guessed, and that wasn't a bad thing at all.

The morning had not been all that bad all things considered. Even more so, since Markus had needed to take it easy after Aela’s boisterous training sessions, he had taken a break, relaxing and reading some of the books he had been meaning to read for a while but hadn't had the time or motivation to commit to.

As it turned out, it was quite fortuitous for Markus that he had done so. An otherwise dull, dry and uninformative book on Artificer theory had yielded a thoroughly unexpected boon in the form of a loose sketch and note wedged between the pages of the ninth chapter. Unlike the enchantments and artifices in the book, the contents of the note were quite straightforward and specific in both what the artifice and its accompanying enchantments could do and what it was intended to be used for.

The enchantments and artifice combined would allow sound to be transferred between one location and another. The receiving enchantment would listen and then repeat the sounds it heard to the speaking enchantment, which would repeat the sounds received from the listening enchantment. Provided it actually worked, and the mana consumption was not disastrously high, Markus could see a few situations where the enchantments would prove quite useful indeed.

There were also less coherent notes jotted down on the edges of the page, the author theorizing a possible application to golems, to give a voice to the automatons that otherwise lacked the means and ability. It was not as daft an idea as Markus would have considered it over a week ago. If he could give a golem independent thought, then it seemed reasonable that he could imbue the automaton with something approximating speech.

So with this in mind, Markus spent an hour fiddling with the enchantment on one of the smaller tablets, a narrower strip of crystal glass that would not have looked out of place as part of a wind chime. It was not a true match for the diagram and description of the artifice depicted in the note, but it was the closest approximation Markus had on hand and would at least prove if the subject was worth expending further effort and resources on pursuing further.

Once he was more or less satisfied with the final result, Markus called the golem into his room and handed it the strip of crystal glass. Making sure to pair the enchantments with the golem and only one of its mana reserves, so he could determine the efficiency of the effect, Markus was going to explain the nature of the experiment to the golem, but was abruptly rendered speechless as the golem spoke aloud.

“Delighted: Creator has gifted Dolly with speech!” The golem's voice was coarse and intense, like someone trying to speak with a severe throat infection. It was also vaguely feminine, which was strange. This could be overlooked since the golem had no real experience with speaking and could probably be taught to change its voice. The crystal also seemed to vibrate in the golem’s hands as it spoke, Markus hadn't expected that. Although it now seemed quite obvious that it should, considering it was emulating a task usually performed by vocal cords.

“Well,” Markus chuckled a little nervously while scratching his head, “That settles the first part of the test I suppose."

“Obedient: Dolly exists to serve Creator,” The golem sounded pleased with itself, the slight modulation in tone giving it away.

Markus considered this a moment while formulating the next order. “Golem, I want you to repeat what you just said, only this time, I want you to speak through the tablet in my hand,” Markus waved the communication tablet held in his right hand.

“Obedient: Understood.” The golem’s rasping voice answered from the tablet, each syllable causing the crystal/glass to vibrate slightly in Markus's hand.

“Obedient: Dolly exists to serve Creator,” It echoed the specified sentence exactly in volume, pitch and tone, including its expression of being pleased with itself.

Markus had kept a careful eye on the small ruby embedded in the golem’s chest and was satisfied with what he had seen. The drain on mana appeared to be low enough to almost be negligible. So even assuming the golem held conversations like any other resident of the house, it wouldn't have any real impacts on its reserves. Markus knew he would have to perform more rigorous tests later since the monitor's sapphire was being drained as the tablet in his hand drew on it’s reserves to power the enchantment on its end, but it was good enough for the time being at least.

“Alright, that seems to work. Next, I want you to find Robert, get his attention so I can speak with him through the crystal,” This was another important test. The enchantments would need to be tested for distance if they were to be put to any real use.

“Obedient: As you command Creator,” The golem quickly left the room and disappeared into the hallway, the sounds of its retreating footsteps echoing at first through the tablet in Markus’s hand, and then continued on its own as the golem grew too far for his ears to hear it.

It was an interesting experience, listening to the golem as it made its way around the house attempting to fulfil its objective. With nothing else to look at, Markus kept an eye on the monitor’s mana reserves, carefully keeping a running count of the elapsing time in his mind to better evaluate the cost-benefit ratio for later consideration.

“Authoritative: Creator requests your cooperation. Please speak into the artifice.” The golem’s rasping voice was quieter than when it had been speaking through the device directly, perhaps because it was only transferring what the golem heard through the enchantments that roughly equated to its ears. The difference being responsible for the minor but noticeable lowering of both the volume and fidelity of its voice.

“What?! Oh the golem, nearly gave me a...never mind that, could it always speak?” Robert’s surprised voice filtered through the tablet just as the golem’s had, much quieter and less distinct, probably meaning he was farther from the golem and the enchanted crystal glass.

“Authoritative: Creator requests you speak directly into the artifice, so you and he may speak to one another.” There was an almost threatening edge to the golem’s words that Markus did not particularly like and made a mental note to address later.

Seeing the need to intervene sooner rather than later, Markus decided it would do just as well for his side of the test to start first. “Hi Robert, I am testing a new series of enchantments involving the deployment of voices and other sounds over distances. Would you mind letting me know if you heard me by speaking into the crystal glass?” As it turned out, there wasn't an actual need for Robert to reply. Markus could hear a quieter echo of his own voice repeat once on the golem’s end and then even quieter again as it repeated independently on his end.

“Erm, uh alright I suppose, like this?” Robert’s voice alternated in volume syllable by syllable, and Markus could only imagine he was leaning toward and away from the artifice every other second in order to accomplish it.

“Alright that’s enough, thank you, Robert,” Markus was surprised to find the drain on the mana reserve had remained steady throughout the exchange and the golem’s initial pursuit, furthermore, that both had proven just as negligible in draining mana.

“Alright, of course, you're welcome,” Robert’s voice grew quieter and trailed off entirely as the golem left him behind.

Reasonably content with how the enchantment had worked out, Markus nearly cringed as he realized it was just about time for his agreed-upon luncheon with the Guild Chapter-Master.

Dressing in his cleanest and most respectable clothes, Markus mentally prepared himself for the worst the Guild Chapter-Master would surely have prepared in response to Markus cancelling yesterday's appointment. It would be even more important to keep his temper in check and to make an effort in being patient.

The way Anabelle had been excited over his abilities and accomplishments did not necessarily mean that the Guild Chapter-Master would feel the same. Hell, it was entirely possible he would not only withhold the special membership status but possibly assign sanctions, you never could tell with nobles and their bruised egos.

The golem had returned, now standing by Markus's backpack with the endless patience of an automaton. It was clutching the crystal-glass tight to its chest, like a mother with it’s newborn, both possessive and protective in equal measure.

Markus thought it strange when he first noticed, but it only took a few moments of imagining himself without a voice to recognize the psychological harm and vulnerability it would cause him if he could not speak. Markus wasn't sure if the golem could experience stress as he understood it, but he also wasn't in a hurry to find out either. It would be needlessly cruel, accomplishing little more than indulging his minor curiosity.

Stowing the golem inside his pack, Markus then shouldered his pack and set out for the Guildhall. Waving to Robert and Lindsay as he left the house, Markus then waited by the door until he heard the door had been barred from the other side.

Even with Aela in residence to protect everyone, it still made Markus nervous to leave them behind. It wasn't like he thought there was anything he could really do that they could not manage on their own, but at least he would be there. It was vain and naive, but the previous break-in had rattled him and Markus feared for their safety each time he left the house.

Markus couldn't help but envy the everyday and ordinary lives of those he passed in the street. Each of them had a past, a family, the opportunity to know where they belonged and where they were going. All too often, he felt like he was adrift in an unknowable ocean, clinging desperately to whatever he could lay his hands on.

It was absurd and he knew it. No doubt many of those he passed by would envy him in turn, their inherent misunderstanding and romanticizing of each other's lives lending unsubstantiated but otherwise assumed value that exceeded the reality of their respective situations. In short, he only saw what he wanted most and was conveniently ignoring everything else.

This was not to say that Markus had not known true poverty and desperation, because he had. Clawing his way up and out from an abyss of insanity and destitution had taken over three years of concerted effort. Each day had felt stretched, every moment requiring his immediate attention to prolong his survival.

Discovering that he was an Artificer, or more accurately, after others discovered he was an Artificer, his life became easier with each passing day. Markus hadn't needed to worry about where his next meal would come from or if he would have a roof over his head, his newfound abilities were able to leverage such basic necessities even in remote villages.

More than willing to let these darker thoughts fall by the wayside, for the time being at least, Markus decided to make greater haste towards the Guildhall to see this business resolved one way or the other.

Markus was surprised to find that the same senior clerk was attending the front desk and more so to see a junior clerk and Anabelle alongside him. Markus could not recall a time he had seen more than two clerks manning the front desk, and even then only at the busiest hours of the day.

“Lord Farus,” The junior and senior clerks announced and bowed in unison.

Anabelle glanced at the other clerks anxiously, “Good afternoon Mr Markus,” she performed a much more modest bow before straightening and gesturing to the main hall, “The Guild Chapter-Master is expecting you, please allow me to accompany you to the dining terrace,” Anabelle offered a nervous smile.

Markus smiled, “Of course,” there wasn't anything to be gained by haranguing the Guild staff. They were just doing their job.

Anabelle’s smile eased into one that was more genuine as she motioned for Markus to follow, “Please, this way,"

She led Markus up two flights of stairs and past the waiting room he had wasted over three hours in the day before. Perhaps noticing his frown, Anabelle’s steps faltered slightly, she pursed her lips but said nothing, so Markus didn't either.

Anabelle led Markus to a pair of impressive and opulently decorated doors, she withdrew a silver key from her pocket and tapped it against each door in turn. Anabelle then opened the doors and stood to the side so Markus could enter first.

Suppressing a sigh, Markus stepped out onto the terrace. It was as spacious as he had assumed from what he had seen before from the street, perhaps as large or maybe slightly larger than the common room downstairs. There was a dining area prepared beneath a shade cloth, but only a platter with glass cups and a jug of what he assumed was red wine adorned the rather small dining table.

Taking note of the three chairs set at the table, Markus took a small measure of comfort in the assumption that at least the meeting would still be a relatively private affair. Taking a seat that gave him a view of the town, he eyed the wine dubiously and instead retrieved his canteen and took a short pull of cold water.

Anabelle took a seat off to Markus’s left and poured herself a drink. Sipping her drink, she smiled nervously, “You are earlier than we had expected,” Anabelle took another sip, “After you left yesterday, we were not sure if you would come at all, even though you agreed, the others thought you would be late as well, you know?” She grew more anxious.

“Know what?” Markus asked, allowing himself a moment of self-indulgent petulance, “After I was left waiting for three hours?"

Anabelle blanched and took another sip of her drink, her silence confirming that it was indeed what she had been alluding to.

He had intended to let it go, but now Markus couldn't help himself, “Why waste my time like that?"

Biting her lip, Anabelle briefly glanced at Markus before looking back at her drink. She seemed to be at odds with herself for a few moments before she eventually answered, “I don't think the intent was to waste your time,” she glanced sidelong at Markus again, “I was with the Guild Chapter-Master’s personal assistant,” she grew tense and paused, steeling her nerve, “She wanted to see how you would react, what you would do and, well, how long you would wait.” Anabelle grew even more nervous.

Markus sighed and rubbed at his temples, ”This is proving to be quite pointless,” he took another drink from his canteen.

Her eyes growing wide with concern, Anabelle nearly dropped her glass, “N-no you c-can’t do that,” she stammered, assuming, correctly, that Markus was threatening to leave.

“If I can't trust the Guild Chapter-Master, and everything is telling me I can't, then the only thing I stood to gain has no value whatsoever because it effectively won't exist.” Markus scowled, struggling to keep his temper in check. In spite of what he had said, as long as there was a chance that the Guild Chapter-Master’s influence could shield Arlee and Abigail then he had to take it. But that was not something Anabelle, the Guild Chapter-Master and his personal assistant needed to know. Far better that they now assumed they had less to offer than they originally thought.

“I know this doesn't look good, but I’m sure it was for a good reason,” Anabelle sounded certain of her claim, but her expression betrayed lingering doubts.

Markus shook his head, “I am not going to wait nearly so patiently as last time,” he would, but they didn't need to know that. “If it was simply a matter of proving my abilities, I would do it-” Markus stopped speaking abruptly as a different pair of doors further down the length of the terrace opened.

An older woman of perhaps fifty, dressed similarly to Anabelle and bearing a striking resemblance to her as well, with salt and pepper hair tied back in a tight bun and the same emerald eyes. As she stepped out onto the terrace, she briefly regarded Markus, then stepped aside to make way for someone else.

A few moments later, an older man of perhaps sixty or seventy stepped out onto the terrace, dressed in fine clothing and holding himself with the self-assurance and bearing only those born to privilege could manage. He had a full head of hair braided and tied back with an emerald ribbon in the style of military officers, his lip sporting a pencil-thin moustache no doubt adopted from the same.

The nobleman wore an easy smile that failed to reach his eyes, “Ah, Mr Markus. If you would be so kind as to indulge me, a demonstration of your abilities is precisely what I feel is in order,” his smile widened as he took a seat opposite Markus at the table. “Ah, but first of course, introductions are in order. I am sure you will have surely realized by now, but I am Lord Everett Dupont, Chapter-Master of the Guild in this county and Lord of a number of territories and estates that are not particularly pertinent to mention by name at this time.” Lord Dupont regarded Markus with hard calculating eyes as he spoke. He then absently motioned briefly to the woman standing beside him, “This is my personal assistant, Mrs Annabeth. I hope you do not mind, but she will be observing today's proceedings in accordance with her duties.” Lord Dupont’s eyes flickered hungrily for a moment, “Speaking of which, I am very interested to witness firsthand the abilities Ms Anabelle detailed in her report."

Anabelle flushed and glanced sidelong at Markus for the umpteenth time that afternoon, though he wasn't sure why since she had told him as much before she wrote the report in the first place.

Markus nodded his head, “I assumed as much,” he reached down and withdrew the golem from his pack and set it down on the table. Just as before, it was still fiercely clutching the crystal in its hands.

The golem quickly took in its new surroundings, taking careful note of Lord Dupont and his personal assistant, its attention lingering longer on the latter.

Lord Dupont leaned forward in his chair, “Interesting,” he murmured. Straightening his back again, he gestured to the golem, “Ms Anabelle mentioned that the golem was capable of extreme dexterity and fine motor skills, could we perhaps have a demonstration?” He smiled amiably as he made the request, but the avaricious hunger in his eyes only grew more intense.

“Of course, did you have a particular test in mind? Just consider that if the golem doesn't know what to do, you may need to provide a rigorous description or demonstrate it,” Markus explained.

“Ah yes, Ms Anibelle stated as much,” Lord Dupont raised his hand towards Mrs Annabeth, “The string if you would my dear."

The personal assistant withdrew a tangled and knotted length of string from her pocket and placed it in Lord Dumont’s hand.

“Ah yes, very good,” Lord Dupont gingerly bounced the string in his hand a few times before depositing it on the table. “The task is quite simple, all the golem needs to do is untangle and untie the knots from the length of the string. This I think should provide us with a rough approximation of both its reasoning capabilities as well as the limits of its manual dexterity, do you agree?"

Markus nodded, “Seems an appropriate test,” he agreed and turned his attention to the golem, “Do you understand what you need to do?"

The golem nodded, “Confident: Dolly understands and will obey."

Lord Dupont’s eyes widened in surprise, “I understood from the report that the golem could communicate, but was limited to written form. It did not mention that the golem could speak,” he turned his attention to Anabelle, who appeared just as surprised as he was.

Before she had the chance to explain herself, Markus interjected, “It’s new, something I am testing out. Not quite sure if the efficiency is where it needs to be for such an aesthetic function,” he explained offhandedly.

Lord Dupont was quiet for a moment, “I see,” his smile returned a moment later, “Well then, let’s see what the golem can do. You may begin when ready."

Markus nodded at the golem, “Alright, get on with it then."

The golem sat itself down and laid the crystal across its legs, then began the laborious task of untangling the string. It set to the task in a way that only an automaton could, patiently teasing tangled segments apart and moving onto the next. Once the entire string was untangled, the golem expertly began picking the tiny knots apart, making the best use of its small fingers and powerful grip to complete the task with relative ease. When it was finished, the golem spooled the thread and bound it with a slip knot.

The golem picked up the crystal again and stood up to face Markus, “Obedient: Task has been completed,” it waited patiently for its next order

“Remarkable,” Lord Dupont commented, “This indeed exceeds my initial expectations, however-” The hunger and intensity in his eyes grew even greater, “-there are still a couple more tests and the next, is for you."

Markus furrowed his brow, but he had expected this, “Alright, what is your test?” He tried to inject as much confidence as he could muster.

Lord Dupont’s smile widened, his expression now downright predatory, “I want to see you enchant another golem of course."

Markus couldn't help but frown, “You don't trust me,” he said matter of factly.

Lord Dupont shrugged, “There is no denying it, your golem is indeed quite special, unique even. But how can I be certain it was you who enchanted it? So, of course, I must witness you perform the enchantments personally."

Markus shook his head, “I don’t have the mana capacity to enchant something of any meaningful size or power on such short notice,” This was the truth, creating his first golem had taken days to fill the tiny jewels mana reserves.

“I suspected as much,” Lord Dupont nodded, “But Ms Anabelle’s report stated that you could re-enchant existing artifice, is that not true?"

Markus nodded, “It is. But if you want proof of my capabilities, how can I prove them if I am just re-enchanting someone else's work?"

“Preparations have been made and this particular caveat accounted for,” he half turned to Mrs Annabeth, “Tell them to bring the materials." Lord Dupont turned back to Markus, “You may proceed at your own pace of course and refreshments will be provided. But I must insist that you do not leave the terrace until you are finished."

Before Markus could reply, a number of Guild staff began carrying small workshop tables onto the terrace and lining them up alongside one another to form a larger table. Other staff began depositing all manner of tools on one end of the table as a pair of burly porters manhandled a large wooden doll onto the centre of the amalgamated table. It was of similar design to Markus’s own golem, or as near as he could tell, albeit slightly cruder and less articulated. Interestingly, it too housed a ruby embedded in its chest where a heart would have been if it was human. Likewise, a pair of sapphires were recessed in its head in place of eyes.

Markus suspected that Anabelle had provided them with as detailed a description of his golem as she could manage, and in turn, they had done their best to replicate it on a larger scale. The cost of the jewels alone would have been substantial, each of them roughly the span of two of his knuckles. Each of these jewels would have cost the entirety of the rescue bounties reward or very likely more.

Unlike Markus’s golem, the jewels and body of the golem were unmarked and the body possessed only the minor improvements he had made originally, most notably the rough hide on the doll’s palms, fingers and feet.

Concentrating on the gems, Markus was surprised to find that their mana reserves were full. It made sense when he thought about it. How else could Lord Dupont expect him to animate the golem in a timely fashion? Of course, this would be part of the preparations, the Guild would know he was still only as powerful in rank as a level one Artificer, specialties be damned, he still had very real limits.

Unsurprisingly, Markus saw that both Lord Dupont and his personal assistant were bedecked in enchantments tied to concealed jewels. It was clever, Markus had to admit, considering anyone in the know would prioritise destroying or otherwise deliberately targeting the reserves that fuelled their enchantments. What was perhaps most surprising was the nature of the enchantments, which ranged from basic protective enchantments to more obscure enchantments that Markus didn't fully understand, but hinted at conditional activations and contingencies.

Noticing Markus's attention, Lord Dupont’s smile waned somewhat, “I would thank you to keep your attention elsewhere,” he warned coolly, his eyes now turned ruby and amethyst, glittered dangerously, the depth and density of mana suggesting a power Markus could only guess at.

Allowing his concentration to fade, Markus shrugged. He was curious, but not enough to jeopardize the relationship with the Guild Chapter-Master. “So what specifically do you want me to do?"

Lord Dupont relaxed, “Well, everything of course,” he gestured to Markus golem, “Everything that allows this golem to function and that enchantment that allows it to speak as well if you can manage it."

Markus considered this for a moment then shook his head “I don’t have the materials on hand to make the speech artifice and I doubt I will find the materials over there either.” he pointed to the workshop table.

Lord Dupont pointed to the crystal, “What about that one? Will it not suffice?"

Markus shook his head again, “No, it’s an early experiment, a prototype at best. If you want me to replicate the effect, I will need the materials for the final design. Nothing major or too difficult to acquire, I just don't have them."

“Then name them and Mrs Annabeth will see to acquiring them as you work on the other enchantments.” Lord Dupont waved dismissively as if it were a minor concern. Which for him, it most likely was.

“Well, as I said, it’s nothing too major,” Markus withdrew a scrap of paper and a nub of charcoal then began roughly sketching a copy of the design he had found on the loose note earlier that morning. “It’s basically just a modified double-layered leather buckled strap with a small disk of crystal glass exposed on the outer face,” he handed Mrs Annabeth the scrap of paper.

She angled the paper so Lord Dupont could take a better look. “It appears to be as he says. I do not think it will take one of the artisans much time at all to modify a prepared armour or belt strap to fulfill our needs. Likewise, the glassblowers will be able to readily supply a shilling sized disk of quartzite on short notice. All told, my Lord, this expenditure is laughably negligible.” Mrs Annabeth’s voice was clear and calm, but also remarkably authoritative for a woman addressing a well connected and influential nobleman.

“Very good, make it so,” Lord Dupont returned his attention to Markus and was somewhat bemused. “Why the need for an additional artifice? Could you not just enchant the golem to speak without it?"

“Efficiency,” Markus replied flatly, “I could just enchant the golem to make noise approximating speech, but the sound would emanate from everywhere it is enchanted, consuming a great deal more mana than is necessary in the process. Likewise, I could localize the enchantment to a permanent fixture or attachment to the golem’s body, but what if I find a more efficient method later? I would need to tear the golem apart just to change it.” He shook his head “No, it is much better to keep experimental features external and separate from the main body of the golem to allow for advancement and improvement."

Lord Dupont’s smile widened again, “Well said. It is rare for one of your ilk to be so forward-thinking."

Markus shrugged, “I find it’s easier to improve on something than to come up with something truly new. So keeping as much of these golems compartmentalized as possible just makes sense. Besides, long term observation is needed to determine the real benefits measured against the costs,” he shrugged again. Markus found the act of overexpressing his thoughts aloud like this more than a little crass, but it was necessary to impress the Guild Chapter-Master. All the more so since his artificing was not inherently showy or impressive to look at until it was actually finished and in active use.

Lord Dupont nodded but apparently felt no need to make a reply.

Picking up the golem in one hand, and holding his pack with the other, Markus approached the workshop table to get a better idea to see what he was dealing with. Depositing his pack beneath the table and the golem on top of it, Markus withdrew another scrap of paper and a stick of charcoal.

For a golem of a much larger size, it would almost certainly require sigils carved into its body to serve as relays to refocus the enchantments. They were not necessary in the general sense that the golem would function without them, it just wouldn't be nearly as strong, resilient or dextrous comparatively.

So with that in mind, Markus roughly marked out the clusters of sigils he thought would best serve these relay points. After some trial and error, Markus settled on a cluster for each limb, one on the inner side of each forearm, one on each of its calves. and another upon its navel. Correcting the mistakes at this stage was simple enough, a damp cloth easily wiping away the markings.

“I want you to carve the sigils I have marked into the doll, can you do that?” Markus asked the golem. He was no craftsman and the fresh blisters on his hands did not make the prospect of carving the sigils himself particularly appealing.

“Excited: Of course Creator, which tool should I use to accomplish this task?” The golem didn't seem to be able to stand still, now inspecting the different tools laid out on the workshop table with the inquisitive eagerness of a child.

Markus pointed to a small etching tool, “That one should be small enough for you to use, just make sure you don’t damage yourself. You will need to set down your voice, but I’ll keep an eye on it while you work."

The golem looked hesitant to put down the artifice that allowed its speech but still complied, “Obedient: I obey," It set to the task assigned to it with praiseworthy enthusiasm.

With the golem carving sigils into the doll, Markus considered how best to enchant the new golem and avoid the problems encountered with the first. Aware that his memories were somehow connected and responsible for the eccentric behaviours in the first golem, he tried thinking of a means to avoid repeating the mistake again...