Scene Archives

stands outside Luĉja’s door, shifting from foot to foot. She woke up in the middle of the night and couldn’t manage to go back to sleep. So now she’s standing here, project satchel slung over her shoulder, wearing an oversized linen shirt and chunky knit socks and feeling a little ridiculous. She reaches up, and finally, finally knocks.

opens their door, “Good morning, Friend-Salme. It is early for humans. Are you unwell?”

shakes her head. “No. I just. Was awake? And couldn’t fall back asleep. And I realized we hadn’t—really spoken much since we got here. So I thought I’d come say hi. If that’s okay?”

: “You are always welcome, Friend-Salme. Good morning! Come in, Ĉasid will also be delighted to see you.”

does perk up a bit at the thought of seeing Ĉasid. “Where does Kurat stay, while we’re in Queenstown?” She asks as she steps inside.

: “Kurat is not far. He tends to do a lot of roaming about the area we find ourselves in. I am sure he’ll check in soon.” Ĉasid leaps at Salme, playfully.

: “He does tend to get stares when he comes back into the city though.”

did not come prepared with a gift for Ĉasid, which was terribly rude of her, but she appears a thick piece of yarn from her project bag pretty quickly, and drags it across the ground, creating Enticing Prey for the little hunter. She nods at Luĉja’s words. “How is it, being home again?” she asks.

gnosis-laughs. “Queenstown is not home, but if you mean on the Beast, it is marvelous. I did not realize that I would miss the heat of the plane so much. It is strange as well. I rarely spent this much time in Queenstown. I generally was out with myself and Kurat, mapping fiend-spawns, taking notes, and hunting. Occasionally I would aid other clans with directives from Saranzaya or the Queen. But my previous life here was far more solitary.”

pounces! And then pounces again! And then pounces AGAIN!! See, Salme did come prepared with a gift. All is well.

nods, and cedes the string to Ĉasid, who has tangled it in his paws and now seems to be gnawing on the end, because he is the finest hunter of them all. She laughs, and then looks at Luĉja. “I did mean the Beast herself. I actually … made you something. For the times when we aren’t here.” ⁂

draws out a thick length of woolen fabric, dyed deep red with a long fringe. It could serve as a shawl or scarf, and is long enough to drape comfortably over Luĉja’s shoulders. “I wove this for you with wool spun with burning gnosis, thinking of the Beast. It should always be warm.” But not just warm—the dry, starlit heat of the beast. She offers it to them. 🙧*

takes it and places it over their shoulders. It is warm and comforting, like fire, but soft. “Thank you Friend-Salme. This is magnificent. You have made this yourself? And to think, I thought the coat you picked out for me would be the nicest cloth I owned.” They pause a moment, “I hope you don’t plan on those times being anytime soon, however.”

: “Well, we’ll probably be leaving for Mu soon, right?” And then she blinks. “OH. Oh, no. I meant. For when we, Clan Emberlight, are away from the Beast. Not for—no. That will not be anytime soon,” she says firmly.

: “Ah I misunderstood. I am glad to have no cause for worry. Yes, I assume that wherever we end up after winning the Grand Soups will likely involve another jaunt between worlds. I wonder how the ziggurat and the station will be when we return. I also wonder what the heat of Mu is like. You and Wolf both described it as ‘angry.’”

nods, but. “I did. Hm. Want to speak with you, actually. You seemed upset, when I fell against the land-sharks. And I wanted to,” she lifts her chin here a bit, “I wanted to make sure you knew that I only made the decision I made because I knew you would have my back. I have been—very seriously working to make sure I take care of myself.”

gnosis-laughs again. “I have fought in Rites for over 100 years. I know you were in no danger. I admit to being slightly worried when it looked like the whole lot of them were coming down the mountains. But they cannot eat Endjinn. I have seen your strength in our duel, and I know you are more than capable of fending for yourself. You could probably out-hunt a green clan without much trouble. Your dedication to your continue survival is appreciated.” They pause a moment. “Anger is a powerful tool during a Rite. Controlled, it hones your mind, at the expense of your opponent. Uncontrolled, it brings strength to every blow made, but floods the mind. I knew that I had the rest of the group to fall back on as well. We all know we have each other. So I indulged in a little more visceral violence against our prey. It is our way here to occasionally…cut loose? perhaps is a good phrasing? To ride the waves of our strongest rage, our greatest joys, our deepest sorrows. To burn is to let your heart be free.”

: “Wolf was also concerned. I have apparently done too good a job of not representing my home, until I returned to it.” They laugh again.

blinks at them for a moment, truly (rotating) it, and then she laughs, so brightly. “You know, Aurelius always said you were a theatrical fucker, and I’ve started to see it, but—that, truly, was magnificent. And I’m so glad that it was … an act of catharsis and not of pain.” She nods, as if echo that certainty to herself. “I know. You have lost a lot. And I know there were times where—I don’t know if you were worried, precisely, but I have been careless with myself before. I promised you I wouldn’t be, though, and I wanted to … make sure you knew that promise was still intact.”

: “As for Mu … the sun in the library scours, yes. It can only harm.” She tilts her head to look at them. “I’ve wondered, actually, if time might move differently under that sun. I’ve considered asking you to experiment with it, since I know, pain aside, it couldn’t kill you.” And then, almost embarrassed, she asks, “Do you experience physical pain?”

: “Yes. But my pain threshold is higher, because my…skin? is metal. And not…skin. You’d think I’d have better words prepared for this after 120 years.”

: “I am glad to know that you will continue to care for yourself.”

: “I am glad to be able to tell you that I will with utter sincerity.” Ĉasid seems to have lost interest in the string, as it has ceased to dance, so she leans down and picks it up and animates the piece of yarn back to life. “I think ‘skin’ is fine as a term. We refer to all sorts of things as ‘skin’—the covering of a fruit, for instance.” She pauses. “Do you ever wonder what it’s like? To have human senses? I’ve wondered a lot about what it must be like for you.”

: “My senses seem to approximate those of a human. They’re just..slightly different. From what I have gathered, my sense of smell is largely the same as humans. My tactile sense is largely the same, I think. I am aware of contact. I think the strangest thing is to be able to move your face. And sometimes, you seem to do it accidentally. That took me a long time to get used to.”

: “If we were on Samudra, I’m sure the Academy would love to debate if my sense of sight and hearing were meaningfully different, but as far as I can tell, they are not. It’s mostly just the ‘I don’t need to eat or sleep as much.’ that’s different, I think.”

mews! And! Pounces the string! The kitten may have been dozing off for a moment but now STRING! and POUNCING. And tiny little coeurl mews and riotous purrs and at some point a headbutt against Salme’s ankle.

: “Oh! I suppose I had assumed that since your sense of taste was so different, the others must be as well. Spoken Wood are—very different. In the Mask, whenever I am looking through the memory of a Spoken Wood Sword-Saint, it is like time slows down and the light looks—different.” She shrugs. “Of course, even just plain human Sword-Saints sometimes—see things like color completely differently.” She reaches down and scritches just below Ĉasid’s ear, right where she knows most creatures—cat or coeurl—enjoy it.

: “Fascinating. I suppose it would be easy enough to test.”

: “That is sort of what I was … suggesting. If you were ever curious.” She laughs a little. “Methexis really cannot become my solution to everything, but it is. Still very exciting to be able to do it.”

: “I am happy to share, if you would like to see what I see.”

offers her hand out to Luĉja.

takes Salme’s hand.

unfurls the pellucid-trained flourishing vines within her heart, weaving a path for them to step in.

attempts to immerse themselves in their senses. Looking at the red shawl, their pack, shield, and stones. Listening to the swish of Ĉasid swiping at the string, even though no one is pulling it. The tactile sense of the shawl against their skin, of sitting, of holding a hand. They spend a minute, just being, before taking a few bites of food and just when no one thought it was coming, a rock.

cannot help the laugh that spills from her throat, and as she laughs, Luĉja can feel it—the vibration of her vocal chords, the stretch of the muscles of her mouth, the way her shoulders shake a little.

: “Oh. I should also speak. Since my voice is gnosis. And not…whatever makes a human’s voice. Not-gnosis.”

Once the new senses are acclimated to, Salme notices that in the background, she can hear The Signal. It’s also the default tempo for Luĉja’s gears.

: “Do you always hear this?” She asks softly.

: “When I am home. I did not hear it at the Sanctuary, or in the Void, or during our stays on Almachadta and Samudra.”

: “Do you think it’s … her? The mother of monsters? Your … mother?”

: “It is possible. It is the song that I heard when I woke in the Deepforge.”

squeezes their hand. She does not know what to say, really, other than it must have been strange and also comforting to have always been followed by such a song.

tilts the connection into herself, briefly, a quick smorgasboard of sensory experiences, and they are perhaps not that different from Luĉjas, except that they are hers—the warmth Luĉja themself radiates; the feel of wool, silk, linen twisting between her fingers; Aurelius’ hands holding her own; Awoken’s hands in her hair; the scent of flowers; the taste of Luĉja’s food that feels like home. They are small, precise sensations. But she offers them in return.

: “Hair is a strange feeling.”

: “Yes. And I have a lot of it. Wolf proposed getting you a false beard to wear, you know.”

: “…this was a joke, yes?”

: “Interesting. Other food tastes almost as good as Almachadtan food to you.”

: “Almost,” but she gives them blackberries, sun-warmed, plenty of them, on the road, always offering themselves up to her hand, and the bursting sweetness. There’s nothing quite like those, no. But a meal cooked for her with care? That is what tastes the best.

has an idea. They reposition slightly, and their gears switch their tempo, and some of their plating moves around on their body. They vent a touch of steam. Just to share.

has a very strange experience of … rearranging her organs at will, of venting steam when she has no vents and does not produce steam. “Did you know,” she says, “there is a strange—not emptiness, but absence inside you? Something that renders you a vessel, that allows the transmission of something from one place to another?”

: “I am not sure I understand.”

: “Do you mean a physical thing? Or a gnosis-like thing?”

: “I am not sure I understand. It isn’t that you are not whole, it’s just that you contain space and in that space there is something being transmitted.” And she gives them a wry smile. “I was not granted clarity in that regard, but it is about your embodiment so it could be either.”

: “Fascinating. I wonder if this is related to my strange knowledge of my purpose, and the intent behind my creation.”

: “I almost wondered if … maybe the reason you cannot be unmade outside of the Deepforge is because part of you remains therein?”

: “Very possible.”

: “If I carry it with me, wherever I go, it makes sense that the reverse could also be true. That part of me is always there, wherever I go.”

nods. “Yes, that makes sense.”

: “I’m going to drop the link, if you don’t mind?” She’s hyperfocused on her organs—Luĉja’s organs—and it is very distracting.

: “Of course.”

does slowly pull her hand away, and the link gently dissolves. “Thank you for sharing that.” She frowns. “I actually do have a question. When I was putting together the guide on our journey thus far, Aurelius said that your title of ‘The Clockwork Knight’ felt somewhat demeaning. I was wondering if that … did bother you, and if you’d prefer a title like ‘The First Endjinn’ or something else?”

: “I do not find it demeaning. It is not strictly accurate, but it feels an appropriate title, I think. I send a message on this infernally small device to the Queen asking if I was in fact, the First Endjinn. If she has survived multiple cycles, she would know. She said I was very direct and that she would answer me upon our return. She is usually not bothered by my mannerisms. I think she has many large emotions about the cycles that she is not yet burning properly.”

snorts. “I think that is an understatement about her,” she says wryly. “I—think that was a very wise question to ask. I am glad you’re going to get an answer.” She chews her lip. “I …”

: “Think she knows she can’t stop it. I don’t know how many times she’s tried.”

: “Hmmph.” A pause. “Something else is the matter. She, too, is watched by the Soldier and Brother. We do not need to know we can win, to fight. In fact, we often know that all too often, we who are watched wage wars that cannot be won. This matters not. I have my purpose, impossible may it seem. She has hers. Many other things are welcome, but none are required.”

smiles a little, and then her smile grows in a grin. “I think,” she says, “you should say exactly that to her. Especially the ‘Hmmph’. That’s very important.”

: “I will attempt to remember the Hmmph.”

laughs. “She told me she’d tell me everything if I managed to face the end of the world and not die, you know. Only that.”

laughs. “Well, sounds like you’ll probably win that bet. I look forward to her having to fess up to you.”

: “Oh. Me too,” and there is a dangerous gleam in her eyes when she says that.

: “If this is half as much of a story as Jorule claims, then it makes sense that we wouldn’t be able to read ahead just yet.”

: “Well. We can read ahead a little.” Her eyes flick up and to the right. “Have you been able to look at the … list of songs?”

: “It gets fuzzy when I look at them. Sometimes I lose focus when I do. But yes. I am aware that there are many.”

: “There’s … well. Jorule and I agree that something very hard will happen to us at the halfway point, probably on Valaïs or right after. I don’t know the shape of it—I couldn’t possibly.” She smiles a little, almost privately. “Aurelius thinks that worrying about it at this point is probably pointless, and I suspect he’s right but.” She shrugs. “There are at least hints. Here and there.”

: “I agree with Aurelius. We know something awaits us. We need not prepare specifically for it. Merely prepare ourselves, that we might be ready for whatever new strange awaits.”

nods, and then stifles a yawn. “I did have one more question for you, if you don’t mind, and then I think I might crawl back to bed?”

: “Of course, what do you wish to know?” They tug at the yarn, sending Casid flying in pursuit toward Salme’s leg.

careens directly INTO Salme’s leg and meows indignantly like it was her job to have predicted the coeurl-dashing in advance and moved accordingly, but approximately three seconds later is nuzzling and purring again.

makes a sound between a laugh and a shriek as tiny coeurl claws skitter along her leg. “It’s silly, but,” she pulls a length of green cloth out of her project bag, and splays it out. Animals—a sparrow, a bluejay, a fox, a wolf, two otters, and the blank space in the middle. “I was making this for us early on—glad I waited until Samudra to figure out if it was okay to refer to Archie as an otter so I had room to add Caion, but I’d struggled with you. Aury suggested an armadillo, Jae a pangolin, but I was thinking a tortoise? The shell that’s a shield, the long life … I don’t know. If that would feel … okay?”

nods. “I do like pangolins. But turtle feels the most correct, yes. You have done very well with your crafts, Friend-Salme.”

: “I know I’m very young but … I’ve spun and sewn my entire life. The weaving is new but … I think it’ll bring you warmth and comfort.” She stifles another yawn, but says, “one more question, actually. Clan Emberlight is perfect—when you offered it, I think we all knew it would be that. But your clan before us … would you be willing to tell me their name?”

: “Straylight. Their clan hall is further toward the outskirts of the city.”

: “Straylight and Emberlight.” She smiles a little. “I like the symmetry. And—I would still like to know that story.”

: “Thank you, Luĉja, for keeping me company when I am sleepless. Is there anything I can do for you before I go?”

: “Thank you for joining me in the quiet-time. I have all that I require and more. Thank you again for the gift.”

: “You’re welcome. More than welcome.” She yawns again. “I’m going to go return to my burrow now. I’ll see you in a couple hours.” And then she’s gone.