"But I didn't do anything..."
He was back in the hallway. After little Nyx had spent the last few hours mopping the floors, this stupid guard was leaving dirty footprints all over it again! The man tugged the boy along, his long strides making it tough for Nyx' short legs to keep up, his tiny body swaying on his toes as they headed toward who knows what or where.
At the other end of the hall, a man the boy was rarely seing before was waiting. His tall figure was particular, but everyone was taller compared to the little changeling-- except for Harry and his rowdy brothers. His head was covered by an ash-gray top hat, and he wore a loose-fitting coat with a high collar that covered his neck. "Time is money, you idiot—So? Where was he?" His gruff voice was a switch for the guard's body, his body's stopped few feet from the man. After all, the duke was his employer and an employer like him was a god to the nut-ball man for a guard.
The boy met him with an equally angry glare. He merely gave a lopsided scowl when their eyes met. "Get him inside." His head jerked toward the door. The guard nodded and whispered a short 'sir' under his breath and followed with stepping through the door first, the young boy and 'rich landlord'. The door clicked shut behind them as the duke closed by. This was one of the rooms reserved for guests, Nyx knew this. Have helped carry dirty tableware back to the kitchen or coming with small snacks like croissants or cake. The maids weren't trusting him enough to let him clean alongside them, so this was one of those moments where he could only sit on a chair and watch. This time, the company was a little different from the occasional old women and men or their ill-behaved sons. Next to the round table in the middle were a tall armored man and a pretty- incredible pretty lady.
They both glanced at the little boy, but the woman seemed to be paying more interese to him. It was clear she was somewhat interested in the boy, as evidenced by the small smile and brief gentle wave she gave him.
But the duke seemed to be in a hurry. "This is him." The atmosphere continued to grow more serious, and it began to seem as though little Nyx was the center of attention as continued. Evidently, he wasn't dragged here to serve guests as a hall boy.
Not much of anything interesting happened for a few seconds, aside from the duke sitting down in one of the armchairs around the coffee table. Meanwhile, the woman had been watching the little boy the whole time. Eventually, she nodded. "I see." Her voice uttered only two words. Yet the little boy couldn't help but feel somewhat… comfortable by it. A gentle tone, like some of the housekeepers who were kindly to him, even when he threw a tantrum or tried to run away.
She reached out her hand toward the nearby, still-empty chair. "Please… come and sit down."
After that, everyone's attention was on him again, filling the air with an increasingly stifling tension, making the little boy starting to fidget his little fingers, but he stayed put with his now ongoing good behavior and followed as instructed. The woman watched the little boy take slow, hesitant steps verso the armchair and stop near the table. "I'm not allowed to sit in the chair." His tiny hand pointed explicitly at the elegantly furnished armchair where the young lady wanted to sit.
All the woman could do was let out an ensuring sigh along a small smirk. "Ooh… don't worry. Today is an exception. Please, please."
As always, little Nyx didn't spare a glance for the adult in the room—the duke—and slowly settled into the plush chair. Her ornate hand gently ruffled the top of his head, the bracelets adorning her wrist jingling faintly. Yet Nyx still maintained a stony expression, though a hint of concern still lingered.
The lady had broken eye contact between the two, leaning back against the back of the elegant armchair and still maintaining a slightly lopsided smile as she smoothed the strands of her chestnut hair to keep her face in place. "So, Duke Krame said you have a little talent. And he invited us over to see it."
And the little boy was still twirling his fingers. The whole situation was getting more and more uncomfortable. Is that all he was brought here for? He hadn't done anything wrong, had he? Although the young lady seemed to have no ill intent—in fact, she was sweet and warm, just like the other housekeepers that behaved so nicely. But she couldn't keep quiet without stirring up the atmosphere and probably the duke's annoyance, who was still watching from the opposite furniture.
"I... I can turn my hair white. And Mrs. Olga says my skin turns gray." But he could only pause in anticipation of what might follow. "Is that wrong?
The young lady just chuckled softly and shook her head as she reached out her hand over his. Even though he was nervous, the little boy didn't pull his hand away as he usually would when someone tried to grab him. Yet instead of snatching the boy's hand, she reached over her hair, showing her pointy ears.
"What do you think? Does it look funny or not?
His voice didn't come out, but Nyx had pursed his lips slightly—not out of disgust or discomfort. To him, having long ears wasn't that strange. Even so the lady was way out of her way in beauty. He didn't want to offend the young lady, so he sighed before answering, "No, it looks fine to me."
There wasn't enough joy between the two strangers to make anyone want to not interrupt. But Duke Krame was a man always in a hurry, always on the job, and with very little time left for unnecessary niceties. "Miss, I hope you don't make me wait any longer than we agreed; you said the procedure would be short. So make it quick and let's get this day over with."
It seemed the man accompanying the young lady was on the same page. He stepped closer, moving between the young boy and the woman, then pulled a piece of jewelry out of the pouch on his belt. The woman recognized it as a bracelet she had designed herself. "Sure," she agreed, though you could see her clench her teeth a little; still, she took the bracelet willingly. "Duke Krame wants us to give this to you." She held the jewelry by one end, displaying the shiny metals that curved into details a bit too sophisticated for his young mind. "Please, your hand."
Nyx kept her eyes on the bracelet as she spoke. Yet he was a good boy. The young woman placed the ornament in the boy's hand and waited. "Come on. Don't be shy, it's okay."
---------------------
A exhale slipped out Nyx's nostrils as he sat in the hot tub, simultaneously recalling what had happened decades in the past and what occurred a few hours ago. The guys had good intentions, but they didn't know what that meant to him.
He made a quick exit. Came straight back to the house. Locked the door and ran a bath. God, how immature he seemed. Just running away from... trivial things. Did he just not want to spend time explaining? Idiot.
Or maybe not. Maybe the guys would just shrug his behaviour and go about their business till their next encounter, whatever excuse he came up with then. "This is stupid," he'd muttered to no one in particular, following his monologue with a long sigh. His body shifted and rose from the water, revealing to the room Kara's figure, which was currently in his possession. "Just wasting the hot water for nothing." He hadn't even bothered to use any of Dörk's soap, just standing in the warm water he couldn't even feel. Not that Nyx had ever had access to it in the past. Tho everything had changed when the duke built housing for the residence's staff. Well, he wanted his staff to be clean and well-groomed every day. So eventually, whether he wanted to or not, Nyx had fallen into that category.
But the reality of the situation had only just hit him. He'd forgotten to bring a washcloth to dry off with when he'd locked himself in the bathroom. "Eh, shit." After a moment's thought, the stone boy grabbed the tattered rug and decided to take a look. Fuck it, or whatever.
He left the bathroom, his head bowed due to the low ceiling. "D, you here? " But there was no answer. His voice echoed as he walked down the hall and into the kitchen. No one there. A few steps up the stairs to the attic, still no one.
"Guess he's still hanging with everyone."
He checked the backyard through the door at the back of the kitchen, but the only thing he realized—the sunset was in full swing. And night could fall in just a few short hours. His gaze turned to the terracotta stove, which also had a metal griddle for cooking. So he could at least do what a good house boy, as they used to call him, could do. Light the fire for the night.
It was easy. He didn't have any matches, but he didn't need them now.
As usual, he always checked under the stove. And his intuition was right. Even now, leaving wood under to dry was something that was still done, or maybe it was just what Dörk does, he didn't know. He first grabbed a thin log, cut from the edge of a tree that still had its bark on it. But among the things under the stove were no kindling chips. Nyx put his stone hands to work and broke the log into small pieces.
This was a pleasant scene. It made Nyx remember the days when he used to help out in the servants' quarters, reminding himself to rekindle the fire in the middle of the night long before everyone woke up, and just watching the flames in the communal stove and the sky through the room's windows.
The winters were cold but very beautiful.
Pushing open the door to "his room," he walked into the quiet space that had remained unchanged since the previous tenants left; now, only the bed and the backpack left by the closet showed that at least someone had left a trace of life in the room.
His body simply landed with a thud on the bed, sitting on the edge and just resting there. He instinctively licked his lips—if you could call it that, given that his mouth was completely devoid of any moisture. He was hungry again.
While he watched the boys still savoring and nibbling on their food, he could only satisfy himself by feeding on blood. During the meals he shared with the Skybinders, the sensation was there. Hunger—or better described as a "craving" to sample—crept through his new brain whenever he imagined food. Damn… what he'd give for a roast beef… some cheese… onions and tomatoes--.
His hands rocked his head with a slam. "I might as well gnaw on bones." He wanted to get his mind off things. The pillow had flattened under his head as he lay on the sheets, staring at the ceiling. He should get some shut-eye. He was hungry, and right now, going out for a drink was stupid.
KNOCK. KNOCK
"Kid, you here?
Dörk called from the hallway.
He knocked again but didn't say a word, leaving it to Nyx to respond back at the man. "Yeah, sure. Come in." The old man poked his head through the door, giving a nonverbal nod of 'hi'. "Uh... are you okay, kid?" His usual blend of professionalism and goofiness was missing now.
His eyes tried to avoid him for a moment, in between the times Nyx was trying to maintain the contact between them. "It's nothing to worry about, I'm fine."
Dörk leaned his shoulder against the doorframe, adopting a more relaxing posture for the conversation. "Did the guys and I scare you back there?" He couldn't help but ask. "I swear—it was totally safe—"
"Nah... I'm okay. Though sorry for running off like that."
The golem's voice had choked up with the wizard's explanation, but the old man hadn't taken it the wrong way. "Nah... Don't worry about it. We nerds always manage to find something to do around here." He waved him off kindly. "I just... haven't been paying much attention to you lately. I dragged you here, and as bad luck would have it, I ended up being the one with the most... time-consuming tasks."
True. Ever since they'd arrived in town, Dörk had been acting more like a business manager. Kind of reminding Nyx of a specific assface, shitfucker duke. Not so confident and cocky as the original, but more like always busy and only randomly present for whatever reason. Well, at least he wasn't keeping the golem on a leash. "It's okay. The guys are cool with me, and Cecil and Callahan are fun." He shrugged it off, but only to show that he really wasn't upset. Right now, the lack of attention wasn't exactly unwelcome. Right now he was hungry and didn't want anyone to know and jump up when they saw him coming or to bump into him around the corner in the house and be scared in anyway. Not that being 6 feet tall and able to snap heads barehanded was more than enough.
Maybe tomorrow I can check out some corpses in the field.
But last time, he could barely manage to produce anything worthwhile. Sticking his hands in the stomach and lungs was the most disgusting thing he'd ever done. Maybe if he had a medical background he'd be used to it, but even so, it was tough.
"Anyway." Dörk, still standing in the doorway, raised his voice. "I'm going to sleep... Thanks for the fire, though."
The living statue just nodded, a small, one-sided smile playing on his ashen lips. "No problem." And a bit after. "Good night."
-----------------------
"Good morning, lass.
Nyx raised his head at the man greeting him. Every time he had to go past the wall with the platoon of diggers, he would wait near the gate on the road leading from the barracks. So, the chief caught his attention from mornings like this, when his focus was diminished.
"Hi." He gave a completely unelaborate greeting and just got back on his feet. No one said anything more and they just continued through the gate in the wall toward their work. Though one small difference stood out. Today there was no cart to haul equipment back from the dead. They did this every day, so why not today?
Finally, as they walked side by side, Nyx asked the chief in charge. "Why don't we have a wagon with us?"
The chief caught the question and acknowledged it with a raised eyebrow. "Well… All in all, we left a lot of bodies in the field yesterday. It kinda makes sense to gather as many weapons as possible first and then bury the men." He rolled his eyes. "Orders from the officer. They say we need to get it done faster."
The answer was a bit awkward, but if someone higher up had ordered it—it was simply an order. "So you left them in just their underwear or what?"
But the chief didn't share the amusement Nyx was trying to convey. "That, and in their tunics torn in two, yeah." he said. "The guy with the wagon's gonna come later for more weapons and--"
"Yo! Girl!"
Both the chief and the golem stopped in their tracks and turned toward the city gate. Yet whoever had called out was standing atop the wall. The sun wasn't very high in the sky yet, so they could both see clearly the man, one of the Skybinders, dressed in his blue robe. "We kinda need a strong hand for something! Can she come up for a minute?!"
A small smile stretched across the chief's face as the man simply turned back to the road. "Well, if you need anything just get to us... See you later, kid." But the man didn't see Nyx nodding in agreement. So the golem started walking back.
Who is the guy again? the stone changeling wondered.
Upon reaching the inside of the wall, a ladder was placed nearby, leading all the way up. Yeah, there were interior stairs, but what the hell, this was closer. Taking the first step, thank heavens it didn't break right away. Though he had to reposition his mace over the belt waist.
When he came to and was about to rush out the door the very next second, he just turned around and grabbed up his weapon. He'd briefly felt like a small omen of misfortune considering will again dig and drag over the wall, but what the hell. Taking the last step on the ladder, Nyx reached the team of soldiers working on repairing the trebuchet, assisted by the wizard who's called him up and some gentlemen Nyx remembered to be craftsmen or something Parka had called 'engineers'.
Mitch had a good mood, meaning he wasn't going to jump off the wall and plunge headfirst toward the ground any time soon. His assignment with the craftsmen was nearly finished. Almost. Before everyone gathered, he had whiled away the time reading a book he'd borrowed from Cecil—"The Chase for a Star." He'd go back right at it once he finished his business and read the crap out of it. At worst, sometime after lunch and before noon maybe? Mitch was still pondering about it—how would the astronomer possibly pull the star down to Earth? Totally impossible, in his opinion, since stars were just giant clouds of gas—thousands of times larger than our own Earth… but still—
"You yelled for me, right?"
Nyx felt a bit uneasy at the height of the wall. It wasn't as tall as the teleportation tower, but the lack of safety measures—the absence of a ledge overlooking the city along the walkway—could break his neck, anyone could, even him. But he hadn't shown the men a single moment of concern. He caught a few silent greetings from some people he had recognizes from repairing the gate, but nothing special. Same with Mitch.
Their previous misconception could be overlooked. Both were men at heart, so a few harsh truths about golem hygiene didn't need to be taken seriously in the long run.
Finally, he nodded. "I did." His hand waved gently for him to come closer. "Although we're almost done, I need a hand with something." He had tried to be nice to the golem. And Nyx only nodded in agreement and both approached the war machine.
"Well, you won't believe it, but there's been some confusion about the mechanism." Mitch's hand had slid roughly over the wood, which was clearly new, yet some parts—probably discolored by sun and a little rust—revealed a more elaborate mechanism of levers and pulleys leading to the counterweight. "This thing is too heavy." His voice was clear enough to convey the weight in question. "Even if the pulleys are solid metal, the rope's just not strong enough to hold. It's gonna snap in a couple of seconds while we're probably winding or loading it."
One of the engineers standing on the parapet leaned over and explained. "The others we repaired had the original rope, about 10 centi, but this one got burned. We couldn't find an exact match, so we attached a single 6 centi one at first, and it snapped." He finished his analysis with a scratch at his white beard.
Mitch followed with a quick nod. "We tried mending two together, but the knots were coming lose every damn time. Stupid tho—we thought it would work, till it failed again."
Yet Nyx was still looking at the machine. The tall weapon of war was... necessary. "So what can I do, do tell?" So he will help protect the city. The golem chose to come and so was gonna follow orders. Tho no soldier, and he could just leave in the night if wished for, his stomach -if could call that his upper part of the digestive system, was telling him he couldn't make it far without blood. At least not today or tonight. Nyx ultimately pitched of his lips to the magic man wishing to look greedy to help.
The engineer from before continued, "Since Mitch says you're going over the wall for... whatever, there are some lost trebuchets out in the battlefield. Scavenge a few parts, ropes included. And pulleys. We may need for something else and it's easier than forging."
Over the next few minutes, they worked together making a checklist for Nyx of what the golem should look out for amongst the battlefield junk, including additional parts such as an intact pouch or harness. More complicated parts like gears were welcome to be scavanged and so the items were also added to the list. The more, the better.
As the golem was handed the paper, he had to ask with some skepticism and little wry in his smile. "Guys, how am I getting all this stuff back, alone?" He couldn't help but pitch his left eyebrow at Mitch. But the wizard just shrugged, already puffing from a cigarette not a second later.
Another engineer chuckled softly. "We'll call in a favor from Lenny, have no worries."
------------------------------
"Oh Callahan. I don't understand how you deal your time with stuff like this. The best I can do is sew up my torn pants." Dörk had kept his mouth slightly ajar, watching his fellow wizard hammer the last bolts into the metal.
Yet the man could only express mirth. In his hand was the very first model of Nyx's glove, looking almost exactly like the design, minus the upper shoulder guard piece. "Well, man, I've spent every minute since yesterday working on it," he chuckled. "I'm telling you, this is really…" But Callahan just followed up with a sigh. "I don't even know what to say. I just love looking at it."
Dörk could feel the cold steel of the glove against his fingertips. It seemed like Callahan thought Nyx would find it easy to move his hands, so he went all out, sort of turning a simple glove into a heavy-duty cestus. "So, what's the deal?"
Callahan just hummed through his thick beard. "I'm not sure—it's really good, maybe even better. But you're a colleague. And I like the kid, even if he's a little slow." The wizard was still examining the gauntlet, taking in every detail. He hadn't given any thought to inscriptions or decorative designs—but he'd spent hours crafting pieces with magic and attaching them together. Rubbing the leather and punching holes. Hammering in nails. Fastening the parts between them was every craftsman's favorite part. What was so difficult for the armormakers, though? Well, maybe some didn't have magic at their disposal—so that was Callahan's lucky break.
"How about four gold coins? I'll pay when we get the money at the end of next month."
The deal with Dörk was simple. But still—if he happened to leave early and wasn't paid, he'd eventually get his money back, though clearly with a delay. Still, that's good enough. "As long as I don't screw up the deal with the general, sure. And if not, you'll pay me when we get home." Callahan craned his glove, passing the object to Dörk. "When you see the kid, tell him he owes me." His body had merely followed the movement; rising from his chair, he'd walked two meters and collapsed lopsidedly onto the living room couch. "Now get out—I want to sleep."
The wizard had slipped his glove into the bag under his coat and pulled a bottle out of it. "How about a drink before you sleep?"
The bear just growled. "Get out already, you spotted liver idiot." And yet Dörk had already dropped the bottle on the desk with a clink before abandoning the house.
Callahan's burrow had no porch or yard, so he'd landed right on the road. Dörk didn't need to ask where Nyx was; he'd already gotten information out of the kid last night. Again, searching among the corpses for his "food." The problem was, he himself had said there wasn't much blood left to extract, and this situation left him in a bind—meaning, he didn't know where to look for blood to consume for fuel. That meant—the golem was going to have problems with his abilities, if he wasn't already—and it had only been three weeks—maybe more—since the wizards showed up in Oght.
"Uh, I need to ask Jerry what we're having for dinner today… Maybe the kid can hunt something..."
Dörk cut his monologue short, already walking down the main road, he turned a corner toward an abandoned house with a broken gate. The front yard was overgrown with common weeds but you could still reach the grapevine, which still had a couple of grapes hanging from it even though they should have been picked weeks ago or stolen by birds. But the grass was no match for his craving. The bunches were still at head height, ripe beyond the point of being harvested but with no signs of passing their bad term. One grape had confirmed everything the wizard wanted, so he'd picked four more bunches to eat before sitting down on the concrete front steps of the building.
Dörk, as was his habit, quickly examined the grapes. The black color hidden under the dust, the soft taste of cheap wine. The chewed seeds with their tangy flavor, he was eating them in bites straight in the cluster, now throwing manners out the door. "Grrm. Better than I believed to be." Tho he stopped, with a second passing as he took a deep breath, preparing to cast one of the spells he'd long since learned. "Hafatra." A sharp, piercing sound rang in his ears until it subsided, but as a result, the world around him was devoid of noise. Even if the building behinde him would blow in flames, he would just feel the heat of flames and maybe- feeling it on his back. But no sound whatsoever.
What's up, guys!? Anyone there, hellooo?
A brief silence hung in the air until another person replied.
Dörk, is that you? This is Oispha speaking. What y-you want ?
The wizard was lucky. Always be sure Oispha's on the channel. Basically their communication hub was passing thorugh the man's head almost all the time. That damn gossip.
Has anyone seen the kid? Where is he?
A brief static noise had reverberated over the link between the pair, most likely coming from Oispha's end, but it had since settled into a smooth background.
Yeah. I'd talked to Mitch earlier, asking where he was wasting his time. Told me about a job he'd given Nyx. To look for some junk parts for the catapults—no, wait, the trebuchets on the wall. Guess he's gonna be gone for a while.
Dörk had finished the last of the fruit and, after picking out the pits, tossed them back into the garden overgrown with weeds and the occasional untended flower. This morning wasn't too bad. His first job today is to give the kid the glove and check what Nowak wants of him to do next.
Tho the wizard still had his mind of the conversation held days ago over tea. The general had been clear-- a massive shipment is scheduled to arrive in four days, if Dörk's memory serves him correctly. Some of the transport would be done through the teleportation tower, but a river shipment would bring important medical supplies and whatever else the city could store for the brigades guarding the southern front. His sly tongue was curious about which one would land on Nyx. After the scuffle between him and those two-legged lizard pieces of trash, some of the soldiers and folks higher up in the long military chain of command spoke positively about his grit. As far as Dörk was concerned, some fools are brave and break through with guts still inside their belly and full head on shoulders. He himself had his moments of courage, but... Nyx will be different. Stronger than any. The golem just need a lot more training forced down his throat, just as much as he needs to chug blood. Another nagging puzzle in need of a solving. Something that makes the whole thing contingent on.
Nyx is... smart. He's not going to discredit him for his minor lapses in civic knowledge after he, Cecil, and Callahan had learned about his upbringing—but even so, those were minor gaps that could be filled in or ignored altogether. Maybe it would be better to get more involved with Nyx. When he foolishly lied to Lenny that he was responsible for building the golem, he was afraid he'd be seen as nothing more than a crane brought for handling boxes . Which would had been bad. For everyone's reputation.
Dörk cast the spell once more, this time trying to connect with Mitch directly.
----------------------
"Sorry, but no horse. Only for the units on mission or official orders.
Nyx didn't have much choice but to growl midly. He'd told the man what he was asked for and even though Lenny handed him a cart—something that was just a little bigger than a wheelbarrow he wasn't gonna get a horse. Maybe just a big two-wheeled wheelbarrow, for fuck's sake. Nyx frustration made him abandon the useless talk and get on with it, now rearranged the quiver on his back and set off with the cart.
He felt silly. Almost ready to throw the small, dumb-looking cart through a window into one of those houses. But people were watching. Keeping your cool, don't look like a fool. Good plan. Follow the plan.
I hope I don't need anything else...
The list—check.
The wheelbarrow—check.
He paused for a second to check and secure his weapons before setting off. But in his thick skull—or whatever it was made of—he should have secured something else. He didn't want to admit it, but wandering outside the city in search of corpses to suck off was futile. Only fluids—as disgusting as they might be—remained in the bodies, fucking useless to him. He thought- maybe a deal at the infirmary, like back in Elth. But maybe this time he could speak directly with the general. Worst-case scenario, he'd pretend he couldn't go on anymore and ask people to make donations. If anyone were willing. Or maybe the platform in the training room was worth another try…
"Ooh… everything's getting bothersome."
The walk back to the gate had left the golem lost in his own thoughts. About what he had to do. To survive. For the thousandth time, he thought that staying in this city was the dumbest possible choice.