[Flashback, Jilitse] A Clockwork Must Be Learned, Not Taught

[Jilitse]

A Clockwork Must Be Learned, Not Taught
3rd of Winter 509 AV
In which Jilitse attempts to (re)draw the Blueprint of Plink

Jilitse stepped out of the Common Laboratory she was in, with the intention of loitering about. She was wearing a hooded cloak which concealed all of her save for half her face and hands. Her mind was littered with thoughts, it has been a long while since she had had a break. The magical and scientific ideas occupying her head had gone past convolution. There had been no successful breakthrough in her sorcery for years.

She brought down her hood while she ascended into the upper castle. It revealed an ashen face of a woman who had kinky golden brown hair, brows thick and lips full, blue veins netting the face. She sauntered gracefully towards one of the northern towers, climbed within and walked more. She would glance at a Nuit that she would pass by, stepping aside for animated wagons that brought cargo for other wizards. Upon reaching a slightly secluded area of the castle, Jilitse sat by the arched hallways that overlooked a ledge.

She leaned by a pillar and pulled her knees to her chest before staring blankly ahead. Tucking her right elbow between her knees, Jilitse poked a bony finger at the dusty stone by her feet. She drew concentric rings, envisioning a pattern of gears and wheels. She looked at it sullenly and shifted in her place, sitting with her legs crossed. She blew a whiff of air at the design nonchalantly, quite annoyed that she had left the Laboratory. Now that a gadget design was in her mind - a fetching simple design, at that - there was no ink and paper to be found. She grumbled to herself about how awful the weather is.

Instead of heading back to the laboratory, Jilitse decided to return to her quarters. She kept the image of the clockwork design in her head, imagined it working, lest she forget what it looks like on her way back. She held on to the visualization of the blueprint steadily, forming a clear mental image of how it worked. Why was it easier to come up with an invention outside the Common Laboratory? She sniffed with irritation. Perhaps it was time that she save up and purchase a laboratory of her own. Her discoveries, she realized, were often made if she was working on it alone, or when she learned in solitude.

The deviating thought dislocated one of the bolts in her mental drawing, and she quickly cursed herself for losing focus. She folded her lips and decided to concentrate on getting back to her room. Marveling, she took out her large journal and scribbled the design. She proceeded with ease, sketching the circles, but she had to sit down by the time she had to copy and trace the details from her mental image. It took her three pages to get the initial gears right, a scratch paper to estimate the proper measurements, two more in order to get the details right. Jilitse continued in order to come up with a design for its casing. But, she was unsatisfied.

The overall design looked like something that had to be continued. To add to that, Jilitse had not exactly thought of its function. There were two joints in a kinematic chain and the end effector was nothing but a spherical design. She may be able to add something. An aperture or a grip perhaps? Tearing off the blueprint, she held it out in front of her. It was simple, and she might be able to create a limb prototype not longer than her hand. She spoke to herself about how she would like to attach screws into the design so it can bend with better ease. It can be a personal project, which she will reveal in time - at least if it proves to be something worthwhile. She slightly smacked her lips in approval.

Maybe she need not spend money to buy the items she need, and she does not have to use any materials from the laboratories. The click in her mind was almost instantaneous. There was a useless miniature golem in her room somewhere. Jilitse could get one of the better smiths to disassemble it and get the parts she needed. She brought it out of a small cabinet, and removed it from its box. She had no real use of it, but out of love for keeping anything in her possession clean, she had kept the copper golem in good condition. Now that she can find a better use for it, she would not think twice smashing it. No, it cannot be smashed simply. Yes, with my fists. What fists? Incoherent thoughts flooded her head.

A quick enlightenment hit her. The design she had made earlier was unoriginal, and had only slightly varied from the golem arm's design. No, unoriginal was not the word for it. She held up the miniature golem with both her hands and examined it. Her previous design belonged to its forearm, the fists are balls that can... that can... that can... what? She blinked fast. Somewhere was a memory she must have long forgotten, and remembering it came like a fleeting leaf in the gust of wind. She looked coldly at the golem in her hands. It was hers, was it not? Could it have been a gift? Maybe something she had bought from the Bazaar?

Very unlikely.

The gush of memories came like a flock of speeding birds headed her way. Although they were of a certain disconnect, she decided that the golem was hers and was her own making. How, she cannot yet remember, or was it because she had chosen to forget?

Jilitse propped the miniature golem to stand up on top of her small wooden table. She straightened herself before contemplating whether she would attempt at animating it right in her own room, or return to the Common Laboratory. But wouldn't the latter elicit unwanted attention? Maybe she could bring the thing to Mashaen, surely the archwizard would be the most knowledgeable in the discipline! That was both a good and bad theory. She would have long used it as a present for the Archwizard, and Mashaen would surely be pleased with such a clever device. Or has she presented the golem before to Mashaen and the Nuit was not pleased with it? Why had it been kept standing still? Perhaps it cannot be animated, and its mechanization was beyond her current skills and comprehension? Perhaps there was something special about the miniature golem that made Jilitse keep it stashed away.

Ah, yes. It was time for her pipe.

[Jilitse]

The next thought that came to Jilitse, after she had blown a whiff of smoke from her pipe, was to list all the items she needed to carry out the animation ritual. The items expanded from a list of tools into a list of herbs - the list getting longer, and longer, as Jilitse added materials of her own fancy. The Nuit realized that it had been a while since she had gone to the Great Bazaar in Sylira. It was not necessary to go out of Sahova, and the journey might prove perilous since it's winter - the Nuit just felt that a change of atmosphere might clear her mind.

She went back to sit down on a stool, facing the stationary golem on her table. Part of her wanted to start the ritual immediately, but thinking better of herself made her wait. It was better to plan her actions first. She took the paper that contained her sketch. The limb looked like a replica of the miniature golem's right arm. Blowing once more on her pipe, she took the golem's right limb with a hand and pulled it with ease. It would not budge. Putting down her pipe and then using her free hand to hold the golem, she tried to lightly yank the arm once more. There was a clinking sound, like that of a dislocated spring. P-rrrr-link! She turned her head back into the arm's blueprint. Perhaps there was more to the original machinations that what she had already drawn.

She found it peculiar, how she seem to have forgotten a device of her own invention. A slight frown traced her thick brows. She cannot attempt to animate an object if she was not familiar with its basic anatomy. She would risk breaking the object. Of course she could attempt to repair it, or have it repaired. But if it was as special as she thinks, there was no guarantee of restoration. Not about to be defeated by physical limitations, Jilitse decided to attempt to replicate the miniature golem in design.

She tried moving the golem's other arm. It moved with more ease as she bent the forearm slowly; it produced a smoother clinking sound. There was no doubt that the left arm was in a better condition. She drew another blueprint, this time of the left limb. She copied the sketch for the right arm and added a few screws, a gear, and a tube. Perhaps the right limb worked differently. She would have to work on the sketch later.

It took her one whole day to sketch the left limb properly, and even so she was not able to properly complete its design. Some parts where hidden underneath its outer shell, and the Nuit needed better tools to perform her examination. She wanted an elaborate anatomical design before proceeding with the animation ritual. Maybe she would have to go to Sylira after all. Before that she might have to consult a few books in the laboratory. It might even help to seek the counsel of the Archwizard, if she would be allowed.

She pushed aside the choices and decided to take a bath. She had neglected cleaning herself thrice in a row because of the golem. She had not stayed at the common laboratory long enough, she only passed by to pick up more drawing paper and ink. Not that anybody would mind. Most of the Nuits do not bother with the experiment of other wizards.

Jilitse picked up a clean towel and took off her clothes. She had to shake off dirt from her robe, patting off dirt and picking off grime. She would be using it again later, and it would not make sense if she took a bath only to wear dirty clothes after.

The body she was in already sagged in many places, a clear indication of near decay. The decomposition is still mild, the stench bearable. She blamed it for letting a day and a half pass without taking a bath. She pulled her hair up with a few clips after getting naked, and then started letting water run on the bath tub in her room. While waiting, she moisted the towel from the wash basin. She wiped off grime and dust from her torso, taking extra care in rubbing. There was a lot of delicateness in a Nuit's body, which must be matched with the right amount hygiene and patience. Satisfied, she started cleaning her arms and hands, and then her hips and legs. Every now and then she would dip the towel back in the basin and wring out dirty water from it.

Taking out a new soap, she started rubbing it on a lighter towelette, and started washing her hands. The fingers was the body part that got worn out easily, as most activities - at least in the Citadel - almost always involved having to use fingers(After all, you can't have golems work all your chores). Not even wearing gloves can prevent decay. Jilitse had regretted not paying attention to her fingers in the past: she had once took out her gloves, taking off three fingers with it.

She went on soaping the rest of her body, easing herself on the tub in order to cleanse off the soap bubbles. The Nuit was quite anxious to get back to her work, but she must linger a while longer in her bath. Her body badly needed it. She went out of the tub and drained the water. She let the water run again as she reached out for her herbal provisions, a small claypot jar of embalming oil. She opened it and enumerated the spices she had laboriously added into it. Jilitse had thought that pure embalming oil has an awful stench, and the fluid could do with some conditioning. Garlic, ginger, mint extracts, and lemon balm - the last was added for its scent. She poured a small amount on the tub, enjoying the strong scent of spicy lemon. She also took a small measure of epsom salt and waited for it to dissolve in the water. She hummed as she returned to the tub, lolling her head left and right as she soaked herself, washing her hair.

When the Nuit was content with the bath, she went up and took a jar of liniment, spreading it thinly on her body. She dried her hair and did not bother to apply cream on her face. She had already taken too much time for cleaning herself.

She wore a clean shift before putting her robe back on. And then Jilitse left the room to go back to the common laboratory.

[Jilitse]

Taking her drawings with her, Jilitse went to the Common Laboratory humming with delight. She constantly told herself what to do, murmuring in a sing-song tone. I must draw its arms like a paw and its legs like a peg on a wheels. It is so much joy working on a toy, a golem that's been around for centuries! I must learn all its secrets, it will be willing to tell! I shall keep it for a pet and all will be well! And then she would cackle with her lips closed, making it sound like contorted laughter coming from her throat.

It was coming back to her very very slowly - like a childhood memory that hit you more with melancholy than comprehension. She had to toil another day sketching the golem, her creative mind posing it with its arms raised, and legs wide open. Soon she had an inch-thick stack of paper, drawings and scratch that she might find important. Some were incorrigible scribbles, the other simple machinations. She would leave the laboratory together with these papers, take a bath and compare her progressing work with the golem in her room. She still could not risk taking it with her to the laboratory, she did not trust other wizards with the sight of her little toy.

It was also strenuous how she would need to start over again in case she drew a misplaced line here and there. Most of the time her drawings came out very differently from what she imagined it to be. Haste is her biggest enemy - it transforms her prints into jagged lines, it causes her to draw curves out of place. Twice she had almost thrown herself into a fit, but made no show of it except by clicking her tongue. The hype was slowly dissipating, drawing felt more and more like an undertaking instead of entertainment.

Now that her excitement with the project waned, she was able to think better, more calculating than giddy. It would be better to convert the excitement into passion, as the latter meant inspiration and perseverance for hardwork.

Days passed – a fortnight to be exact – with a very tedious process of unlocking her memories. She would keep with her drawing day and night, stopping only to take a bath, to visit the golem in her room to examine it, or to wander around the Citadel immersed with thoughts of cogs and wheels. Sometimes she would continue her work inside her own room. Over the past few days she had developed some sort of fondness for her little machine, so much so that she had started talking to it. Staring at it was well worth it, as it allowed the Nuit a pictographic memory of the golem.

She had perfected the sketch and had done a good job(at least to her own opinion) with printing the inner design for its arms and legs.

Page 3 of Plink's Blueprint

She had estimated the size to near-perfection, drawing a 1:1 scale model of the golem. She had used a small rectangular block of wood to keep her guidelines straight, and did laborious work by drawing half of the golem and then reflected the other half to complete her drawing. It was a matter of time before she started scribbling notes about it, the most important discovery of which was that the tubes that seem to run throughout its body are actually – for the lack of anything to call it at the moment - Ichor veins. The veins seem to run throughout its body, and was probably there for ease of control and movement. Jilitse was elated at learning this, for it meant that the golem would work and bend like a straw when animated. She had also noticed that the hips might be able to rotate to a certain degree, but she was not skilled enough to complete that part of the design. She would have to visit the Citadel's library to brush up on her Gadgeteering knowledge. She exhaled a sigh of relief after finishing the blueprint - six pages of monochromatic drawings on dull gray paper. She made her last notes, writing in an intelligible script – important ideas she would rather keep to herself. And then she stood up and placed her arms on her hips. Her work was finally done.

The miniature golem was nothing but a toy, something that might be able to assist her if she could animate it properly. It did have wheels on its feet and three fingers, two of which might be able to grip small flasks. She would teach it to fetch, oh she will! Of course there was still disappointment at the realization that the golem was nothing special - after all, she did hope for something worthy of praise and acknowledgment from the Archwizard.

Jilitse was resolute to burn the stacks of paper that served as her sketch and scratch models. She cannot risk anybody learning about her little toy; there have been instances of wizards stealing other wizards' experiments or possessions. It was also the same reason why the Nuit kept her sketches close to her while she was still beginning her design – it was not impossible to lose a whole venture of ideas atop your desk just by turning your back from it. She was still working in the Common Laboratories, after all. That will have to change, soon, she promised herself.

[Jilitse]

A Clockwork Must Be Learned, Not Taught
20th of Winter 509 AV
The (un)successful animation of Plink

There was no other way to express her feeling except that of drowsiness. Jilitse could use some rest, for she had been exhausted with drawing her miniature golem's design. The animation ritual would take a lot of energy as well, so the Nuit considered the consequences if she were to pursue Animation while she was feeling weak and feverish.

Never the kind to push herself when the odds was against her, Jilitse decided to take a long rest. Since Nuits cannot actually sleep, she decided to stay in her room, pulled a stool by the wall and stayed there until she was relaxed. It took her two days to regain her strength, during which she had thought of nothing but riding a boat to Sylira. She would go there one of these days, maybe next Spring, in order to break her monotonous life in Sahova. She would buy a horse and ride it fast until its heart bursts. She would haggle for a new dress. She would sell a craft or two, earn money. Enough to purchase her own laboratory.

And then it was time for her to work again, so Jilitse stood up, and cleared a space on the floor. She opened the bottle of scribing paint, took out a long thin brush, a small knife, and a short bandage. She set all of these by her toes. And then she took off her clothes, as she felt it was necessary to perform this without any clothing that might impede her gestures. After this, she set the miniature golem by her right side on the floor, making sure it was standing erect. She took the small knife and clasped it with her left hand before quickly tugging it away. A long but shallow wound caused ichor to drop down her hands. The nuit squeezed the wound on top of the inscribing paint, watching as the white ichor mixed with the metallic sheen on the paint. She peered an eye into the bottle, watching as the mixture started settling down. She mumbled a few words before wrapping around a bandage on her wounded hand.

She took the opened bottle of inscribing paint. And then she held out the brush and the bottle of inscribing paint before bending on her knees. Dipping the brush into the paint, she smiled at the metallic luster that dripped on the brush. She had to brush it lightly by the bottle's rim to make sure that her paintbrush was not too wet. It was a trick she had learned over the past centuries. Mixing her blood with the inscribing paint allows her to conserve her ichor - ensuring that there was always sufficient amount to hold the ritual and none was wasted.

The Nuit started touching the floor lightly with her wet paintbrush, marking three spots before drawing a silhouette of a circle. She flicked her hands with grace, turning around in place as she enclosed herself within the circle. Her long days of drawing the golem's blueprint was sufficient enough for her to draw an accurate round shape. Then she drew three smaller circles in tangent with the first one she had drawn, connecting these with arcs of the same length. She hummed, a strange tune that murmured a mix of ancient and common tongue.

The last circle she drew was painted around the golem, and within it she inscribed three arcane glyphs of her own making: all done in elegant curves. She copied these three, one on each of the smaller circles she had drawn earlier, and with that she was prepared to start her ritual. She closed her lips but kept on humming her tune, repeating the mantra, nader gunt avast. She stood, feet apart and hands on her side, head level and eyes closed. The chanting went on for hours, her voice getting louder and louder.

As time went by the ichor surrounding Jilitse and the golem seemed to evaporate from the floor, condensing into a white mist that enveloped them. It crept from the floor, swirling about. Jilitse concentrated, harder and harder, until the lifting mist started to whirl, slowly gathering towards the small golem. The glyphs on the floor started to fade away, and with her will they were transferred and etched into the golem's body parts - the most visible was the one that appeared on its chest. Jilitse had glimmering marks akin to that of the golem, mirroring the places the glyphs were located in the body. This was a shared link between the two of them - the bond that connects the golem's soulcore to Jilitse's command. This was an important part of the ritual, and necessitates that the Animator focus very intently on giving life to the golem. This was going to be the thread of fate that will bind the golem into existence, the instructions and functions that it will live by.

When the Nuit was secure that the ritual was ripe, she sang. She sang the most fearful tones, ordering the golem to awaken. The white mist had began to concentrate on the golem's chest, and was beginning to transfer inside the machine in short bursts. When the soulcore was finished, a burst of light shot out from the circle.

It was only then did Jilitse opened her eyes. She threw a glance at the golem, who, upon springing into life, had activated its jewels. It looked exuberant with its copper and steel body illuminated with a faint blue light.

Jilitse called out loudly and firmly, "Nader gunt avast."

The golem glowed brightly in acknowledgment, pulsating in tender bluish tinge.

Nader gunt avast :

The words "Nader gunt avast" used by Jilitse during the Animation ritual is a variated construct of the ancient tongue, which roughly means: "My work, come to life"

[Jilitse]

There was a relieved look in the Nuit's eyes when the golem responded to her. She sent ideas from her head towards the small machine. Tied by her own ichor, connected to her own mind, the golem stood still, neither waiting nor expecting. The simplest ones had to go first. "I am your maker," she thought. She repeated it over and over, until another bright glow of acknowledgment sprang from the golem's body. The next ones were easier to impart. "You will listen to me, only to me," she said in ancient tongue. That, of course, meant a lot of things. It is the same as saying "You will follow my orders" or "You are under my command" - the essence of which seemed to have been incorporated with the golem's soul without any difficulty. It also incorporated the notion that she was the golem's master, no matter her voice, her face. It seemed to understand, especially the last part. Seamless so far, Jilitse thought. Now why do I feel like I've done this before? Feel. Such a funny word to say.

"Geivatlas!" Jilitse commanded its attention. She was going to teach the golem to move while still in the ritual, as she believed that it is easier to teach while they are sharing the Animator's bond - the glyphs glowing brightly on their bodies. She murmured in sweeter tones now, coaxing the golem to imitate her. And in doing so, she had revealed the golem's flaw...

She slowly raised her hands, stretching them out to her front. The movements were so smooth and pace quick enough for the golem to follow. But before their arms were raised at shoulder level, the Nuit heard the familiar metal clink.

Prrrlink-pink-pink-pink. Prrrlink-pink-pink.

She paused, concerned. She lowered down her arms and the golem followed. She tried raising her arms again. Slower, but to no avail. Prrrlink! One of the golem's arms was truly broken. (Or was it?) She cannot force it to move more than it can at the moment. Perhaps there was something wrong with her blueprint? The Nuit shook her head in disappointment, she will have to attend to that later. She held the thought firm in her mind. "I will repair you, soon." The promise sent a shiver to her lifeless body, and there was an inaudible voice that echoed in her head. A faint memory. Soon is an awfully long time for a Nuit. A memory out of her grasp, better forgotten. Shaking off the thought she held out her arms in front of her, albeit at a lower angle.

The golem's hands only had three fingers, and as such Jilitse had to stick four of her fingers together, separated in the middle to gain some semblance to the golem's anatomy. She held her thumb up and moved it up and down. The golem reacted subtly to this. It kept watching, or at least it seemed to. It could only learn to imitate at the moment. Palm opened, Jilitse showed it how to close the hands very very slowly. She stopped, and waited for it to follow.

The golem started with moving its thumbs, and then followed by closing its mechanical hands. Jilitse praised it in her head, not that it has the capacity to learn what praise was. She lowered down her hands to her sides, it followed quickly. It was starting to learn fast.

The Nuit then taught the golem to move its arms. Left forearm first, the right after. She swung her arms in circular motions until the golem was moving in synchronized sweeps. Next was a combination of moving the arms and the fists, teaching the golem to grip with its two larger fingers. When her pace became too fast so that the golem was opening its hands when she said "close", and closing it when she said "open your hands", she had to repeat her instructions again. The Nuit taught the golem the meaning of the words basla(continue), pondt(pause), rozast(stop).

Once the golem was able to properly move its arms and hands according to her bidding, Jilitse made it perform a series of hand and arm movements using the left limb. It followed, at times catching up to her commands slowly. She made it stretch the arm as far as it could, testing its limits. The golem responded by following orders diligently. When a slight thought about making the golem move its right arm entered Jilitse's mind, it obeyed almost instantly. The Nuit was somewhat terrified when it heard the golem's arm prrrlink-pink-pinking. She advised it firmly that it should not use its right arm for strenuous activities - or avoid using it at all.

Making the little golem use its legs followed. Jilitse rested her arms on her sides, and the golem followed suit. She lifted her left knee, and the golem imitated her, with a short show of wobbling. The golem ran on wheels, after all. Making it march in place was not a very easy task, but the little machine performed well enough to have quite a control over its own feet axles. When its master displayed a small kick, however, the golem fell on its hind. Fortunately it was still within the circle. Jilitse had to crouch and sit on the floor and teach the golem how to stand up from a fall.

It proved to be a challenge because the wheels on the golem's feet kept it sliding. Eventually Jilitse taught it to use its arms to support it self. Arms between their legs, they slowly bent upwards. It took a while for the golem to stabilize itself. But after lifting its torso and bending upward - without its arms aiding its stance - the golem fell back face first on the floor.

Jilitse's face was marked with a grim smile. Animating this little golem was going to take a while - a day or two, perhaps? There would be a lot more praising, coaxing, and goading. She could spare the time, if only it was not bath time yet!

More Ancient Tongue! :

Jilitse, like the proud Nuit witch she is supposed to be, uses ancient tongue in her rituals. Good girl! It has been however, modified and personalized to some extent.

Geivatlas means follow me/imitate me/act as I say or do.
Geivatlas, Basla(continue), Pondt(pause), Rozast(stop) are all variations on the canon ancient tongue.

[Jilitse]

Jilitse was now beyond acting out her orders for the golem that was sprawled on the floor. She does not want to stoop down on the dirty floor anymore. She demanded the golem to learn how to stand again on its own. The golem did not heed her request and stayed motionless on the floor. The blue light that signified its consciousness was slowly waning. She had to act quickly lest she fail. She forced the thought in her mind. "I am calling to you." This she said out loud. She continued in a sing-song tone. "Geivatlas. Geivatlas."

The bluish light started to flicker faintly and Jilitse was noticing how white mist was starting to seep out of its joints. She quickly checked the glyphs drawn on her body. The glow was still pulsating lightly. She pulled away the bandage on her left hand and checked the throbbing wound. It was far from healing, and ichor was starting to seep out - flood out, she noted. The gush of her life source was more than enough to continue.

Jilitse crouched in a rush and hit her left palm in the ritual circle. She called out to the golem to wake up. Her ichor flowed along the lines of the circles, renewing the contract that binds the golem and the Nuit. She was starting to feel winded, her failure had started to take its toll on her body. Her spirit, stronger than her physical will, beckoned to the golem. "Nader gunt avast, geivatlas." She continued chanting, until she was too weak to sustain her posture. She knelt and fell on her side, her head lolling before landing by the golem.

Weakly at first, it started to beam its blue light. The glow brightened, an answer that was given too late. She ordered the golem to rest and await orders, in a voice almost inaudible. "Rest," she said. The last thought in her head: "Nader rozast, Plinku."

Let us rest, Plink.

The next morning, the Nuit stirred feeling weaker than ever. She checked the wound on her hand. It looked rather bad, but at least the ichor had stopped flowing out of it. She reached out for the bandage and started to tie it around her hand tightly. She would attend to the wound as soon as she can. Her mind was wheeling, her constitution weaker than she had hoped. She bent on all fours, huffing as she attempted to stand up. She raised one knee, and placed her weight on her wobbly left hand. Pushing her left leg forward, the Nuit bent at an awkward angle. Swaying herself upwards, bringing her momentum to her right side, she was able to stand up with her feet apart, slightly lunging, her arms extended in front of her to keep her balance. She swooned, until she caught grasp of the chifforobe in her room. Jilitse was still naked and she needed to wear a robe. Breathing sharply, she tried to regain her footing. She wanted to slide back down to the floor... until she noticed her little golem imitating her in the most adorable way possible. It too had learn to stand - imitating her in its best possible manner. It could not swoon, however, and was only able to slightly move forward and backward. It could not find something to hold on to. Jilitse raised her brows in amusement.

"Plinku," she blurted. It stopped and glowed, waiting for its master's bidding. The Nuit witch decided to test her dominance over it. "Nader rozast," she said in her mind. To her delight (and bewilderment) it dropped into its knees and then toppled forward, its arms splayed to its sides. Its turquoise light died slowly, but kept pulsating. Did she really look like that last night? Moreover, did it really have to imitate her that way?! "Avast," she whispered. And it rose up in the same manner that Jilitse stood up a few moments ago. An exact copy of her fumbling actions! She was ashamed and proud at the same time.

The golem was tuned to her will, spoken or otherwise. The ritual was performed properly, but she knew she could have done better. And that little accident. She stared at her left hand, and realized that the flesh would soon start to rot if it was not treated with herbs. So much for being careful and clean. Wait. It has been close to... one year. She had jumped into her body late Spring last year. So should she? She curled her forefinger and rubbed at her eyes. There was an unwanted stickiness on her fingers as her skin opened up to expose part of her skull. She gazed down her graying body and pulled at her thinning hair. She examined parts of her body: face, neck, torso, back, bottom, hips, legs - poking here and there. A sudden push caused her skin to slide forward: ugly flesh teared away, her poking finger got bent backwards. How ugly! This was what she was trying to avoid from happening! A few days of neglect and her body starts falling apart.

How terrible!

I need to get a new body before I show myself to Mashaen! Come Plink, I'll show you how its done.

[Jilitse]

A Clockwork Must Be Learned, Not Taught
22nd of Winter 509 AV
Jil jumps into a new body

Plinku's wheels made soft noices as it followed closely behind its naked master throughout the corridors of Sahova. They walked very slowly, and Jilitse guided it through the castle carefully. When they had to turn left or right, the Nuit made an effort to nudge her golem to the right direction. When they had to traverse the underground area of the castle, Jilitse had to carry Plinku in her arms. They walked in endless tunnels that branched out and went deep into the bowels of the Citadel. Jilitse had no trouble finding the place. As she settled into the grand chamber, she noticed that there were other Nuits with far worse physical conditions than her.

Lined up far back in the room were thousands and thousands of sarcophagi etched with symbolic runes and glyphs. There were golems about, assisting Nuits. Jilitse met with an Egg-shaped golem that ran on a single large wheel, big cylindrical arms with pincer hands waving about. Jilitse, she told the golem her name. The ellipsoid golem made beeping sounds as it beamed a pulsating light at the Nuit. It said in a droning mechanical voice, "I am called as Assistant CC Golem # 54. You may address me as #54. Scanning. Foreign object detected. Please refrain from bringing any unnecessary items within the Chamber. Scanning." She had to put down Plinku, ordering it to stay in place. The little golem stood like solid stone on the floor. "Scanning. Scanning complete. Jilitse. Last specimen Number 518973SFKI7E. Date acquired 87th of Spring 508 AV. Calculating." It paused, but only briefly. "Results show that current host decay level is at 70%. Wounds, injuries, and fractures are at 20... 21... 23%. It is not yet recommended that you jump into a new body."

"Get me a new body, now," was her cool icy reply. "Retrieving response... There was a 98% chance for you to have said that. Collecting random specimen. Collecting specimen JGI99YF85212. Acquired 23rd of Winter 509. Retrieving sarcophagus. Please proceed to the cryonic chambers."

Jilitse followed the ellipsoid golem, and Plinku trailed a few feet behind. As they went deeper, the room was noticeably filled by a cold miasma of blue and white mist, signs of very strong magic contained within the room. They stopped in front of a metallic sarcophagus that was covered with crystalline stones. A lot of runic glyphs was etched and embossed all over it, allowing the body it sheltered to be in an eternal deep freeze. The ellipsoid golem detached the sarcophagus from its base and carried it without effort. Plinku imitated this, and carried an imagined sarcophagus of its own.

Further down the room was a corridor that connected into another room. The cold miasma of the cryonic sarcophagi did not wander past the entrance - which also serves as the exit - of the large ceremonial room. The place was filled with rows and columns of stone ritual tables.

A hiss came from the sarcophagus that was carried by the Citadel golem. Like a treasure chest, it opened up into two. It carefully laid the container in place and moved back to let Jilitse to perform its ritual. A niche on the side of the ritual table contained a small bottle of ink, and a small worn-out brush. Jilitse peeked into the sarcophagi and found a woman. She commanded #54 to tell her information about her next body.

"Specimen JGI99YF85212. Died 23rd of Spring 507 AV. Location: Sahova. Retrieved by Docks Patroller#9. Cause of death: Shock, possibly trauma. Name: Unknown. Age: Unknown." It continued to list available information on the body, including the manner it was embalmed before preservation. Jilitse half-listened to the trivial details as she took Plinku by an arm and set it on the corner of the table. "Stay there and watch," she ordered. While #54 droned on, Jilitse had started to draw glyphs on her new body.

It was of a very pretty woman, hair long and black, skin silky pale. Jilitse examined her, nothing that her eyeballs were bloodshot, pupils dilated to a horrible gray. "Well what were you doing here in Sahova?" She talked to it, "You look so pale. Not that there would be much of a change." She pushed aside wisps of the woman's hair and slowly lifted its chin. A small knot of cloth had been placed between its teeth so it would keep its mouth open. Jilitse pulled it out with utmost care.

The ice runes on the sarcophagus was starting to lose their magic, and the new body, cold and frozen, soon started losing its rigidity. Jilitse had just finished copying the glyphs that filled the specimen's body all over her own. She had written too many body jumping glyphs over the past centuries that she could effortlessly draw the glyphs properly even with her eyes closed.

The Nuit climbed atop of the ritual table - jumped on top of the dead body, to be exact - and carefully aligned herself. She then kissed the lying corpse surreptitiously with her mouth open, letting her tongue roll out. The transfer of ichor appeared like saliva dropping out of her lips at first. There was a creepy gurgling sound emanating from her throat that lulled into an eldritch moan. Her eyes rolled back, her body convulsed - the core of her being finding the transfer a bit repulsive. In truth it was not uncanny as it looked: in fact, it was horrible than death itself. Waves of darkness filled her soul - a mix of melancholic and revolting memories flashing before her. Then there was the feeling of being torn from her physical body, like her skin was being pulled away from her decaying flesh, her soul forcefully separated from her body. Jilitse had done body jumping over and over before, and like those other rituals, the Nuit found it a bitter experience, worse than eternity itself. It was during these times that she was reminded of her immortality, a choice so bittersweet, a burden she will have to carry until the end of her promise.

Immortality, only because she did not want to die. And for what unreasonable cause? For whom. Why do I live for you when you had long been dead? To be both human and inhuman at the same time. The thought burned her body, hurting every rotten muscle inside her.

The Nuit started belching a bigger flow of ichor, her jaw breaking apart as she gagged. Guided by an unseen funnel, the ichor abundantly poured directly into the corpse's open mouth. Jilitse stirred violently before collapsing.

She had passed away into another body.

[Jilitse]

She gasped, as if trying to inhale so hard. Her chest heaved up, eyelids fluttered open. Jilitse felt quite groggy, too weak to push her corpse away.

"#54!" She called out, slurring.

A few minutes later, "#34 at your service."

It did not matter who came to assist. "Take this corpse off me and dispose it properly."

"Taking corpse to the Incinerator." The golem, that looked exactly just like #54, replied, pulling off the corpse away.

Once she was able to sit upright, the Nuit witch then made her first contact with her little golem. "That is a body jumping ritual. I do it every now and then, but acknowledge that I am still your master." She poked the golem and continued, "I'm still Jilitse. And you're Plinku."

There was a vibrant glow from its body, as if it understood.

"Ugh, I'm feeling dizzy. I should rest a bit more." And then to Plinku. "Stay there. Watch out for other golems, and wake me up if anything is amiss."

It would take a while to get used to a body you have just jumped into. One reason why Jilitse preferred to jump between bodies that are anatomically alike is because it is easier to adjust with the body - a self-conscious Nuit such as Jilitse would notice the difference in muscular build: the female body being delicate and feminine. "Male bodies," she also said once, "have unnecessary appendages."

For her, however, body jumping does not end with getting used to the new body. It also meant taking special precautionary measures to ensure the longevity of her corpse. Not that she took little confidence in the embalming abilities of the Citadel's wizards, she merely preferred to do additional maintenance of her own. In Sahova, there were numerous ways of preserving the body, dedicated wizards would continuously find ways of preventing decay - nothing was impossible with chemicals, herbs and a lot of magic. Maybe one day she could discover how to drastically slow or, wishfully, prevent rot and decay of corpses.

One method she had grown to like recently was taking a bath in a cacophony of herbs and balms that have been boiled in embalming fluid. Jilitse had always requested another Nuit to prepare the concoction for her, since she was not good at philtering. She would take half a gallon of the solution and pour it on herself as she sat on her bath tub. And then she would fill the tub with the right amount of water and then lie flat on the bottom of the tub and drown herself.

Not that she would actually drown. The process allowed the embalming solution to seep not only through her skin, but also through her innards. She would stay underwater as long as she needed, gasping out of air or gagging out water only when she deemed it too uncomfortable. She had tried to learn Reimancy last year, in order to command and control air while immersed in her tub, but her efforts had been unsuccessful.

After the embalming bath, Jilitse would not take a bath for a full day. This was done so that the potency of her embalming solution would not be rinsed off. Today however, her bath left her smelling like a motley of crushed herbs and grass. After her dip she looked and smelled like she had been wrapped in seaweed and dung. The smell was pungent, the slime horrible. She vowed to start studying philtering, and promised that her next body jumping will be filled with memories of floral scents.

So she had to stay in her room, washing herself, ridding her body of the odor of the embalming fluid. She let the days pass by idly, wallowing with desire to do something important.

Something she felt like she should have done a long time ago.

[Jilitse]

A Clockwork Must Be Learned, Not Taught
30th of Winter 509 AV
The Nuit Witch presents herself to Zarik Mashaen

Jilitse looked thoughtful as she shove herself into her favorite sweetheart corset, finding her new body a perfect fit to her old clothes. She slipped into her garment, a lovely piece of black dress with a sweetheart tube top and a slightly balloon skirt cut just below her knees. The dress was made of billowy fabric, and Jilitse felt like she was ready to live again. So much for optimism. She combed her long black hair, feeling its silky texture. She let the locks and fringe fall straight down her face and back, and then applied balm and cream on her face. The Nuit thought that her new body was one of the prettiest she had ever been to, and felt joy in being able to dress up. Ah, one finds compensation for long years of solitude.

Beauty and madness.

She went out of her room leaving Plinku behind, but she carried the little golem's sketches. She would still like to show them to Mashaen. In her mind she rehearsed her little speech, and hoped for the Archwizard's approval.

She walked through the corridors of the Citadel with great poise and composure. With great confidence she stood in front of Mashaen's office and raised her hand to knock at the door.

[Tarot]

"Come in, Jil," the Archwizard's voice was calm and distant, but not unfriendly. He apparently knew who she was even on the other side of the door. A few months before, Drainira would have issued a full report on who was knocking and where they came from. She would have taken care of opening the door, too. Such luxuries were a thing of the past now. With Drainira gone, there had been some talk about activating a rudimentary control system, the old "One" series, semi-intelligenct and definitely not self-aware. Lector Qiao had silenced the very idea on the spot. No more entrusting the Citadel to a golem, no matter the type.

The door still opened on its own, but only because Mashaen willed it to with his Projection. "So you got yourself another body, Jil," the wizard said quietly, leaning back on his chair, "be careful with that. Qiao is planning to tighten our body transfer regulations." Mashaen was seemingly eternal. Unlike all the others, his appearance was still the same as when he had been alive. His original body was long gone, of course, but he, and only he, was authorized by tradition to maintain his old appearance. He looked to be in his thirties, with short black hair and inquisitive grey eyes. "And we all know who holds the power now."

Qiao, of course. Mashaen was still the best wizard in the citadel by a long shot, but one wizard could only do so much. A group of influential wizards had sided with Qiao and against Mashaen, and not without reason. He had made Drainira, and she had gone rogue. Rumor had it that he might not have done all he could to stop her plans, either. Mashaen was an isolated man now, and one who did not really care anymore. His loyalists were dwindling, some of them accused of treason and stripped of their rank in the wake of Drainira's revealing. That, too, had been a political move.

"So, take a seat and let it all out. You have many things on your mind, and I have all the time in the world." He smiled, and the white scarf around his neck - Mashaen's trademark - also pointed at the empty chair opposite his.