Closed A new life

[Vick]

Fall 5 512 AV


It was another normal day for Vick or at least it was until he saw the ship reach the docks. He had stayed near the docks since he was going to sit along them watching the waves dance around him but that plan was killed in a sense when people came off the boat.

Normally the ships just dropped off items and left. It was rare to see anyone really get off and talk to the golems. Yet he overhead what she said to the little golem and he knew the golem would take a bit to understand that request as it was scanning her for any signs of danger.

Vick just walked up behind the golem, he was a child. Around the height of a ten year old with bright red hair but his eyes and lips were dark. Purple almost as his dead skin showed his true form but he did not care about that. His outfit was a simple shirt and pants that looked in a rather poor state yet his unblinking eyes just looked at the woman.

She was a Symenestra, tall and silver long hair like he knew of the race. The island had a few of them every now and then so he knew one when he saw them. The arms were longer than a humans. That was a key trait but he knew the race since he had put time into researching them along with the anatomy of the race.

“Golem, I will take her.”

His voice reaching out of his mouth for once in so many years. It had been so long since he had to talk so his voice was rough. It did not hold a childs tone as he ordered the golem that he would take this race.

“Can’t allow. Must reach Overseer.”

It was a simple golem so he knew it had to go above and go to a golem that was more human like in terms of understanding and a type that had the power to grant Vicks order. He did not talk to the woman as the golem wheeled away and did not even speak if she said anything.

The new golem that came along the docks did not move on wheels like the other but it walked on two legs. Its steel body moved slowly but it did not bother Vick. He knew he would have to deal with the overseer before taking this pet.

“Overseer, I am hereby taking this Symenestra into my care.”

“This is not normal. Reason?”

“She said she can give service. I need a Legacy Tester. I have needed one for the past year. I am a Wizard rank and therefore I hold the power to do this as a Nuit on this island. I will take her and deal with her.”

Vick’s voice was still broken but it was slowly turning back to his normal childish tone. He looked like a child but the golem knew better. If anyone knew nuits then they would know better or have a good idea that size did not matter on the island.

“Granted.”

With that single word it moved to take care of the shipment for the island in place of the other golem. With that the undead child looked at the woman with his unblinking eyes.

“Come.”

That simple word with a cold look made his point as he turned to leave. He would not tell her anything else or talk with her as he made his way to the citadel. IF she did not follow he would then attack her to kill since that meant she was a waste and a danger and he knew it was within his right on Sahova.

[Saffra Foxglove]

Saffra had said no more, waiting patiently for the golem to do its job and for it to relay the decision of whoever was in charge here. Some said it was still Jarik Mashaen. Others claimed that Lector Qiao had actually been running the island of late. She had no idea if her request would merit such high level scrutiny, or any scrutiny at all. Perhaps it would be denied outright. Apparently ‘pulsers’ were not highly esteemed here nor were they typically in high demand. What little she could glean, back in Kalinor and then on her travels to this desolate place, had lead her to believe that any living, sentient beings who lingered here more than the short time it took to unload one of the infrequent ships was as likely to be exploded, imploded, set afire, poisoned or dismembered (all in the name of magical research of course) as they were to find gainful employment as real lab assistants. Some had suggested she simply “write first m’dear.” But she had quickly tossed that dubious option aside. It was far too easy to be told ‘no’ via letter. She felt, perhaps wrongly so, that once on the island, whoever made these decisions might take into account that she had gone to the trouble of actually getting here. That might account for something, as a sign of her determination. She didn’t for one minute think anyone here cared about why she was determined or what her reason for coming here was. But perhaps they might see such pig-headedness as useful, in some regard? Or maybe they might simply see her as insane, but that too might have its uses in a place like Sahova. In any case, here she was and here she would stand, waiting for the golem to speak. But, as life likes to do, she was thrown a curve ball, in the shape of a child. She noted him as he approached them, not having seen where exactly he had sprung from. From a distance, she wondered if he too was a golem. She had heard of the wonders of master animators, and thought, well, if this is a golem then I have surely come to the right place for my task. But when he had come within speaking distance, she saw the pallor of his skin, the bruised purple of his eye sockets and the port wine stain of his lips. The clothes were shabby and that didn’t seem to comport with a high end, complex bit of magicking. No, this child looked very like the few undead which she had ever encountered. He looked like a Nuit, and given where they were, Saffra could only conclude that, child’s body notwithstanding, that was indeed what he was. He stared at her, openly, in a way that would have been rude, except for Saffra somehow found the idea of “good manners” to be a bit ridiculous in a place like this. So she didn’t instantly take offense, but returned the look with a level one of her own. It must be noted here that Saffra was very much, in many ways, a young person. That is, despite her bookishness and her intelligence, and a maturity of spirit, she was still very much an ingénue, when it came to true evil, or even simple malice. Having grown up in a very closed society, in a city secreted away from the rest of the world, she knew only what had been shown to her. Oh yes, there were the books, from many different places and times other then her own. But what are books, but shadows of life? She had heard about racism. She had heard about the Valterrian. She had heard about an island far away where the undead held sway and the deepest of imaginings were often brought to life. But she was still layered in the cocoon of her own ignorance, and as she looked at the Nuit, she truly had no idea what she was looking at. And so, though his stare was a fair bit unnerving, she looked back at him, willing her heart to a steady beat, and chasing away that small ping of anxiety with this thought: well, I know he is not a child, but at least he is here, and that is something more than a flat out denial of my request. So, as with the golem, she awaited whatever it was that this creature would have to say to her. But when he did speak, it was to the communicator, and not herself. His voice was like the awful screeee of rusted hinges as they were forced to open, and Saffra grimaced for a fleeting moment. But then she carefully schooled her face back to neutrality, not wishing to give offense. What had he said? That he would take her? Her almond shaped eyes widened slightly and she gave him a closer perusal. What did that mean? Had he been sent by someone? Was he an errand boy for Mashaen, or Qiao? Or someone else? Did he mean to take her to the Citadel? A slight crease appeared between her eyebrows as she continued to stare at the boy, and then the golem spoke and it too seemed unprepared for this assertion of possessory intent. Saffra’s frown deepened and she felt another ping of nerves in her solar plexus. Then the golem was leaving, trundling away, leaving her with him. Somehow, it seemed like a desertion, though it seemed ridiculous to think that the golem provided any comfort or protection. Her light purple eyes followed the little machine as it wheeled out of sight, and then her gaze came back to fall uneasily on the redheaded child. This was nothing like the captain of the ship had described to her. But he had also said that Sahova was as unpredictable in its own way as the weather that could be friend or foe to a sailor. Saffra cleared her throat, as if she would perhaps speak. But she did not, at least not for a good few moments. She had been instructed on how to address the golem. But this boy was different, wasn’t he? He had his own, natural intelligence, and he had some purpose for saying what he had to the robot, right? So, what would be the harm in speaking, asking him for an explanation? Saffra cleared her throat again and made a first attempt. “Where do you meant to take me, and by whose authority?” Her tone was polite, and she waited, again, patiently, for some sort of reply. The child, however, remained mute. After several very long seeming moments, she tried again. “What is your name? Who sent you here?” Her hands remained at her sides as they had been, but her long, delicate fingers flexed with the frustration that she felt welling up inside of her. When there was still no response, she forced herself to take deep, calming breaths. This would be sorted out, one way or another, right? Either whoever was running the island would allow her to stay, and work, or they wouldn’t. And this child must be some part of that process, right? The young woman remained as silent as her new and perplexing companion, as they waited together, for the return of the golem. Saffra had assumed the thing had gone to make an inquiry, not yet understanding how the internal communications system of the island worked. She was slightly surprised, therefore, when a totally different golem appeared and came towards them. The newcomer actually walked on two legs, and the girl would have been more amused and impressed to see such a thing if her mind wasn’t so troubled by this silent child’s insertion into the scenario. As the golem drew closer, she wondered what she should say, and she readied to repeat her arrival speech to the bipedal golem. But the boy beat her to the punch. At his latest claim of dominion over her person, Saffra looked at him with eyebrows raised. Seriously? Who in the world was this pipsqueak and…ah, here was the golem, making her point for her. Not normal indeed! She felt almost smug, but then she realized the golem was giving this creepy little kid the chance to explain. That meant…oh sweet Viratas! That meant…Her eyes widened further as the child explained in very succinct and precise terms who he was and what he wanted her for. A legacy tester? Saffra knew what the Legacy was, at least, in a place like this she assumed he meant malediction. But, a tester? Was that like…a test subject? Saffra opened her mouth. “No, wait! Wait a minute!” Her voice wasn’t quite panicked but then she heard the pronouncement from the metallic mouth. Granted? What the… “No, no, wait!” Now she did sound a good deal more panicky. Her hands shot out and she held them as if she would give an explanation. But it seemed no-one was listening. The golem was already moving away, and the Nuit was looking at her with that deadpan expression. The one word fell from his unwholesome lips. “Come” Then he too was turning about and walking away, and Saffra was faced with a decision. For three years, she had been planning this. For five hundred years, her ancestors had suffered with the curse the Valterrian, She had traveled across Mizahar to be here, in this spot, to seek permission to be allowed to stay. She had plans, dreams, goals, and here, now, she was being allowed, well, actually ordered, to stay. She would at least be in the place that she had dreamed of getting to. True, she hadn’t envisioned her entrée to Sahova as being that of a research guinea pig. And the boy-nuit was creeptastic to the max. But still, she was here, and he was going to take her…somewhere. The uncertainty of that statement left a lump of cold lead in Saffra’s delicate tummy, as did his freakish appearance and cold stare. But with a totally juvenile inability to acknowledge her own mortality, she decided that, really, it couldn’t be so bad, could it? With one last glance over her shoulder at the ship, trusting that the captain would see that her things were delivered to…wherever, now that it had been confirmed that she could stay, she turned back towards the island and began to walk, following the boy, her one little satchel in her hand. With absolutely no realization, yet, of exactly how terminal any other decision would have been, she hurried to catch up with her new…boss?

[Vick]

Normally people would have took the wagons, an animation that made horseless wagons that took people from the docks to the main gate but since Vick took the stray he was making them walk up along the rough rocky path.

He had thought upon his first time on the island, the memories rushing back to him. He was young, scared and alone. No one what was going to happen next. He was not even sure if the island would take him in nuit or not. He had to ride with one of the wagons with dead bodies and even when he got to the citadel he did not feel any sense of home. It took him time to adjust but he became better for it in the long run.

If they came together upon the island then he might would have cared about her and told her things would be all right. Yet now he saw the truth and it was so very simple. She was beneath him. She was nothing but a lab rat and once she was dead her body would be passed over for another nuit to use and a new day would start. That was the simple, cold hard truth about her in his eyes. A tool to be used then reused into something better.

It was not her fault really, its what he learned on the island and it was how the island molded and shaped him over time. It could have done the same to her if she let it or given time. He had seen pulsers so alive before and yet with how the island worked they were nothing but shells in a handful of days. She would soon learn that the island had more rules than what the surface told. She would learn one way or the other in the end.

Her questions fell on deaf ears at the docks and they would do the same if she kept asking them on the walk. The walk that took a good deal of time since he was making this at a slower pace than normal. He wanted her to take in the sights one could say. Yet it was another way to put her in her place and something told Vick, in the back of his mind, that he would need to train her and make her understand her place.

The walk at last came to an end as they passed a set of portcullis in the wall, they were walking on a stone path that led to another portcullis. He was told the place use to hold a garden of sorts with statues from people in Alahea but what did stand the test of time was the ancient Alahean architecture.

In the middle of the hallway of sorts, before the second set of portcullis, was a large tall stationary cylindrical golem that spaned four humans in diameter. It had three tiers separted by two iron bands encrusted with bright blue gems. Under the gome cap was a rectangular hole covered with a screen which was for the mouthpiece. This was a Temporal Aura Recogniation golem or TAR for short. It kept track of everyone who came and left making records and was the watchdog of the Citadel.

Once Vick was near it he stopped and the TAR system started talking like normal asking for the name and reason why they were standing in front of it. However Vick did not answer at first since he grew tired of the system. It had just been built in the last two years but he had to deal with it daily but once the last questions came he let his voice reach the TAR system.

“Vick, Wizard, Have subject 1A as a tester that I needed and had put a order into your system on date First of Fall 510 AV.”

With that he moved forward, just glancing at the woman behind him to keep moving. She knew his name now and she also could gather her name he would give her. Subject 1A. Once past the vestibule they came upon a large courtyard. A stone yard that events were held it but Vick paid it no mind as they moved about going into hallways and down flight of stairs before coming upon a single wooden door.


Upon opening the wooden door along the stone wall, one would see inside a small little laboratory that was far from having the term grand come to mind. The room was only the size of a small living area which was 20 by 20 give or take if one really looked or did the math.

The floor was stone like the rest of the building however that did not stand out as much as the crudely make tan wood bookshelf in the left corner of the far room. Inside the small bookcase was a handful of different books ranging from thin to thick with thin books being the most common sight however even the books had seen better days from the look of the covers.

On the right far side of the room another wooden table could be seen. On this plain table one would see different tools from paint brushes to carving tools such as picks and hammers. The tools on the table were in neat order however the body parts, which were all bone, laid about the table as if no care was taken in the order or part from human skulls to bodies of snakes.

A fireplace was set inside the far wall between the bookshelf and the table which held the tools and bones. On a normal day one would see it slowly burn logs of different sizes however never really at the peak of what a fireplace could or would do. However the main light of the room was not given from the fireplace but by the D-wire along the edges of the ceiling which gave a soft blue light which was a normal sight on the island in any hallway or room.

Past the door frame a small desk stood in the somewhat middle position of the room. The desk was a simple crude desk that had seen better days. The wood was far from a shine and the cuts and dents along it told the story of how many people had used it before. Behind the desk was a simple arm chair that told the same story as the desk. In front of it also had two simple arm chairs that were made out of the same wood however unlike most of the armchairs in the island theses had no padding along the bottom.

On the right side of the desk one would see a basic bronze basin and a open barrel of water that was more often than not filled more than half way. The barrel itself had no outstanding markings other than a simple barrel that could be found anywhere.


Vick would close the door behind her and wave a hand to a crude chair in front of the desk before taking the seat behind the desk. This was his office. His first office and not the best of Sahova. Yet he was still proving himself and it worked for him.

“I overheard your speech to the golem. I could use a aide therefore you will be used. If you have questions ask them and I might answer them.” His voice was still rough but with each word leaving his lips the voice grew more and more softer. One could never tell just how old a nuit really was by looking at them as they could have been day or so much older.

How would she react? How would she handle him? He had to question that inside his head but he would not let the questions reach his undead purple lips. He just watched her, never blinking once. If she looked closer she would take note that he ever not even breathing only when he talked did his lungs move.

[Saffra Foxglove]

Not having any accurate knowledge of how new arrivals to the island typically got from the harbor to the portcullis, Saffra simply walked along behind the red headed boy, not wondering why they weren’t riding. She didn’t try to catch him up, and she felt that conversation would be useless, so she kept her thoughts, and the many questions whirling in her brain, to herself. They trudged along and she looked about, though there was in truth little to see. In all her traveling from Kalea to this point, she had not seen a place that looked so… desolate, so devoid of life. What plants there were crouched low to the ground, as if expecting an attack any moment. She heard no birds calling, not even gulls that were so everpresent elsewhere. Not even a grasshopper leaped into her path, and though the air itself was pleasantly warm, it too seemed…empty. Saffra had a momentary fancy that she could suck and suck and suck the air of the island into her lungs and still feel stifled and gasping, as if it lacked some essential element of vitality. As there wasn’t very much to see really, other than the city itself which loomed in the distance, her eyes quickly swiveled to regard the back of her guide, and there they remained, as she contemplated both the child and her situation. They had plenty of time, for he set a very sedate pace. And as before, he said nothing, and so she took the opportunity to think about the reason that had brought her here, and what she knew about the Nuit, the race that predominated here. She had only ever met two, in person. They were not a popular race in Kalinor, nor elsewhere from what she had heard. They were regarded with deep suspicion and a fair amount of disgust, for their solitary habits, their lack of bodily function, and their tendency to stalk and steal bodies, into which they could insert their psyche, and soul perhaps, if they even had one. She wasn’t sure about that. That they inhabited other people’s dead bodies was probably enough to make them anathema to most. But the trait that drew Saffra to this weird and creepy race was that to a one, almost, they were practitioners of magic. The undead had all the time in the world to practice and experiment and conduct research, to perfect and refine. And of course, that was the whole reason for the very existence of this island. Going into this plan, to leave Kalinor and make her way to Sahova and somehow worm her way in, she had known full well that the huge bulk of the rest of the inhabitants of the research facility would be Nuit. Still, knowing something cognitively was a bit different from experiencing it first hand. So, she studied the short Nuit, from the back anyway, but she could tell little to nothing about him, other than that he chose not to speak to her, or look at her, or acknowledge her existence in any way whatsoever. With little from which to draw information, or base conclusions, she left off thinking about the boy and her thoughts drifted back to her reasons for coming here, and her hopes that it would not be in vain. She went over the inventory of supplies that she had brought with her, equipment and tools, all carefully wrapped and transported all these thousands of miles. Looking over her shoulder at one point, she wondered when and how they would be brought to the Citadel. Frowning a bit, she turned back to what lay before, and decided that too was something she had lost control over. Her thoughts ran around and around and they were reaching the first high, high opening in the wall. They crossed through, staying on the road but to either side she saw a flat lawn, stretching away into the distance. It was littered with crumbling stone work, some of which still held some resemblance to a human. Statues, she knew, from having been told by another who had set foot here in years past. Still, her diminutive guide, or maybe guard, said absolutely nothing, nor did he attempt to draw her attention to any of it. So Saffra too trailed behind him and remained quiet, feeling a sense of smothering the closer they got to the second opening. Here they came under the roof of a great chamber and before her was a humongous golem and she stared in wonder at it. Her guide came to a halt and the golem began to speak, asking for identifying information, and purpose. The boy replied in a voice that now sounded just a bit less creaky and old, once again calling her by a number and referring to her as a tester. Great! Saffra did not roll her eyes, but she did clench her jaws a bit tighter. The golem seemed satisfied and said no more, and neither did the boy. Apparently, her input wasn’t needed or wanted. The child glanced at her before walking on once more, and she returned the look evenly. At least now she had one more bit of information than she had a moment before. His name was…Vick. Again, they walked, and walked, and walked. Saffra didn’t mind the exercise. It was rather welcome after being on a ship for a week and a half. But she knew within five minutes of entering the labyrinth of corridors and stairs, that she was inextricably lost. Even though her eyes had no problem adjusting to the dim lighting, it would have taken her hours to find the portcullis again. So she followed Vick not only because he had bidden her to, with his summoning glance, but also because she had little other choice. Finally, after many minutes of down and down and right and left, he stopped before a plain wooden door. Saffra held her breath in anticipation as the boy turned the handle. Here is where she would be housed, her room, here in Sahova. She wasn’t a fancy person, her tastes were simple and her needs few. Really, if she had all the books and journals she had brought with her, she could be quite content. But still, she found herself tingling with curiosity to see her new quarters. The boy pulled the door open and Saffra peered past him, to see…a lab. Or an office, or study, or really a bit of all three. A desk, center stage, chairs, a work table, instruments, and….bones. Many scattered, tumbled bones. Hm. A bookcase, a basin and a barrel. All very plain. All very worn. And for light, only a low burning fire in the fireplace and a blue glowing wire. That was…interesting. Saffra felt silly, thinking of course, he would interview her here, in his work place. Later he would show her where she would sleep, and have some private space for her own pursuits. Vick was standing there, still in the hall, and clearly he expected her to enter first. Saffra stepped through and he waved her to a shabby seat, which wasn’t overly comfortable, when she sat on it. He went around behind the desk and took the lone seat there. He looked…comical, a little boy behind a grown up’s desk, like a child playing pretend at his father’s office. He spoke, and his voice was grown even smoother, and distinctly high pitched. With his curt explanation, Saffra raised an eyebrow in surprise. If she understood him correctly, his decision, his demand, on the dock, had been something of a spur of the moment thing. He had acted only after hearing her request, her explanation of why she was here, and what she had to offer, little as that was. If he hadn’t been there, would she still have been granted access to the island? Would some other wizard have asked for her, to assist in their research? Seeing the bones, she had to think, did Vick concentrate on…malediction? That was certainly a reasonable conclusion. But, she didn’t want to learn about malediction. She wanted to work with an alchemist. If this little boy hadn’t butted in… well… And then he made his offer. Questions? Yes, she had a thousand. A thousand thousand. Which to ask first? Which was the most pressing? Were there those which he would refuse to answer? Was this a trap, or a test? The Symenestra looked at the boy thoughtfully, and she asked the question that was really closest to her heart. “You took a child’s body. Do you have a special affinity for children, Vick?” Her voice wasn’t snide or clinical or mocking. It was silky and slightly aspirated, as the Sym speech tends to be, and her tone was one of mild curiosity.

[Vick]

A smile ran across his face as the child just looked at her. Yet was he really looking at her or just another random test subject? While his body was young, his eyes on the other hand looked older in terms of emotion even if his face did not show much at all.

“Good, you have no questions that means we can move on. You will be working under me as a test subject. You will be given a room to sleep in after the work. You will work when I do and rest when I do. The work you will be doing will be testing Malediction items. This is a world magic that needs a tester and you will fill that post. Down the road you may be moved around the island to another Master unless you show skill then you might be able to have a say.”

His voice still held a child pitch yet in his eyes he looked past her. He did not even take into account on her question for that question was almost a taboo type in the island. No one questioned why someone took a body other another, it was as if asking a woman her weight. Yet every Nuit on the island knew Vick took childrens bodies over adults but few knew the real reason behind that. Maybe in time she would learn that reason but for now she just was a lab rat that could talk.

“What do you know of Malediction? Then again what are your skills besides killing idiots in the world? That is what your race does afterall.”

This was his way to see if she had any fire inside her. If she would prove to be a problem more than a help. Either way it did not matter but depending how she took that would depend if he would be nice or not. Yet in a sense he was nice to her, in his own eyes. So far he did not bind her or torture her but for some reason he felt like he could if he had to. If she had to be broken down then so be it yet he never did torture anyone before. Even psychology torture he never had done before but this was a form of it or at least the start of it. Not talking to her, not giving her a care in the world and putting her down from life like a being that was worthless. It was just a matter of time before more signs would show.

“Now place your bag over by the door and we will start. We have a human skull we will work on; A sword fighting person of unknown skill. Odds are low and died of being stupid. Also have his right and left hands which we will work on. The head we will need to clean, draw a few circles on some wood blocks before we work on the skull. Once that is done we will need to go research a few things that are not magical but of sword fighting books. We won’t find much but enough to use the hands at least to be of worth.”

Vick said as he made a laugh at the end as he stood up and started to work. He took the skull on the table behind him and placed it in the barrel of water before washing it gently. “So tell me Subject, what is it that you want in this island? What skills do you offer us?” He asked as he rubbed the dirt off the skull with the clean rag. “Or do you just hope to find a teacher and get all your dreams handed to you on your silver plate like a wench asking for a silver coin?”

[Saffra Foxglove]

So this is how it will be, Saffra thought to herself, keeping a neutral expression on her face. He really is a child, one who likes to play games, apparently, she thought, with an inner grimace. And one who is no doubt very, very dangerous, as Nuits typically are, at least the ones that have devoted themselves to magic. Realizing that his offer had indeed been meant only as a test or a trick of some sort, something stemming from a warped sense of humor or a desire to let her know who was in charge here, Saffra made no comment or protest over his non-answer. In the end, his choice of bodies was of little matter. She hadn’t come all this way to ponder the mysteries of another being’s inner workings, only to study the physiology of her own race’s reproductive processes. Let him play his little control games, she certainly couldn't stop him. But at least she was in, and she had best play along, or suffer the consequences, no doubt. Saffra decided that she had best be very careful around this one. She had the sense that he could be cruel, and probably take some amount of pleasure in being so. Having come here to work, and to learn, and to do research, she just needed to keep her head down until she was given that chance. That was all that mattered. The child Nuit had gone on to outline how things would be, and again, Saffra made no protest. From what she knew about his race, they neither ate nor slept, nor did any of the things that living beings found necessary in order to keep living. Of course, they were dead, or, their bodies were. So it all seemed perfectly reasonable, if not more than a little macabre. But she had been expecting no less. It did sound as if her work schedule might be grueling, if she would only be allowed a break when this Nuit himself took one. How often could that be, she wondered. Or did he even take breaks? Well, she supposed if she went until she dropped from exhaustion, she’d be of no use to him. And then he’d either stop until she was recovered, or he would get rid of her. That latter option didn’t sound too appealing, for she wasn’t convinced it would entail her being passed along to some other researcher. All she could do was to try to stay on her toes, literally. When next he put a question to her, she answered it in a cool tone, not desiring to rise to the bait he was so obviously trying to goad her with. “I know nothing of malediction, other than it involves the crafting of circles upon body parts, to bring forth the item’s djed. The part might be from a dead being, or…it might too be still part of a living creature.” She regarded him evenly with her light amethyst eyes, refusing to let herself think too much about that last bit, before she went on. “The crafting of the circles involves drawing, or painting, or carving, and a great deal of skill to do it properly. And the result is never guaranteed, or predictable. ” Again, she gave him a level look, wondering if he would appreciate the compliment contained in her explanation, or focus on the slight aspersion. But any magic was unpredictable, was it not? It pretty much went without saying. “I assume that’s where the need for a test subject comes in.” “I don’t seek to kill anyone.” She added, though her tone was not defensive. “In fact, my goal is to preserve life where now it is lost, time and time again.” As she had concluded that the Nuit’s request to have her services was all about him and his needs, and had little to nothing to do with her own questing, she didn’t elaborate and simply waited to see what came next. She rose to comply with his instructions, setting her satchel aside and out of the way and then returning to look down upon his lesser height, watching him with interest. Just because she had not studied his art did not mean that she would find it boring or useless or superfluous to what her own goals were. As she had no idea, really, of what use (if any) her sojourn would prove to be, she had already determined to keep her eyes and ears and mind open. The solution to her race’s problem might lie anywhere. Vick’s remark about going to research sword fighting, his reference to books, made her draw in her breath and she bit down on her lip with suppressed excitement. For that was truly one of her primary designs in coming to Sahova, to gain access to the huge library. It seemed a portent that she might get to see it so soon, though it would not be for her purposes, but for his. The child mage was now washing the skull in the barrel, and this time he did specifically ask her about her own motivations for being in Sahova. Saffra saw no reason to be any more candid with him than he had been with her. So she answered only, “I have studied alchemy, and that is where my primary interest lies. That is what brings me here, to this place. I have also studied philtering, if that would be of use to anyone, to you, or any other who I might work with.” She corrected herself with some haste. “For, work for.” It was clear that, at least in this pipsqueak’s opinion, she was here to serve and nothing more, and she didn’t want to make him think that she was stupid enough to consider herself otherwise. She was naïve, but she was a fast learner, and already she was finding that Sahova was going to be an experience as much to be survived as it was to be looked upon as a learning opportunity. She had heard the rumors; it would seem they hadn’t done justice to the place. “I have no expectations, and only hope to learn what is presented to me, as I work.” she concluded, before falling silent. If Vick wished to know the depth of her intent, he might have to pry that out of her in some other way. She was naïve enough that such ‘other ways’ did not likely occur to her, not the gruesome ones, anyway. “I understand, Vick, in this place, nothing comes for free,” she added, extending her hands. “Do you wish for me to do that,” she asked, nodding at the skull.