34th Day of Summer in the 514th Year After the Valterrain
The candle went out, briefly sending Pan’s small portion of Lab 15 into semi-darkness. He grunted annoyance and fumbled for his flint and steel. He had been pouring over the notes he had painstakingly recorded from a number of texts in the Library. As the light flickered into existence again, the words at the top of the page he had been staring at for the past hour became illuminated.
What is sentience?
For a long time Pan had looked at the more lifelike golems on Sahova with a speculative wonder. What separated them from the other, more automaton golems from the truly aware intelligent ones. That lead him to the first step of the problem. Define sentience and you have a foundation to create the animation around. That was easier said than done. But there had been hundreds of years of research to rifle through at the Great Library that he didn’t have to do it entirely on his own. The philosophical complications of that question were nearly endless. Maybe he had enough time in his extended undead existence to figure it out, but he needed only the practical explanation that applies to his craft. So he was able to formulate an answer for himself.
He touched quill to parchment with as much confidence as he had achieved in a long time. Things may start to make sense soon, he told himself. He could feel himself getting closer.
To feel, to perceive, to subjectively think.
He stared down at the rapidly drying ink. Closer.
To feel, the ability of the construct to experience sensation caused by exterior stimuli was a basic part of all golems. It was a defining characteristic of the golem. To perceive was more tricky, but still a commonality of basic animation. He knew that the subjective thought was where he would be encountering the most challenges. Pan was interrupted by a spouting of water from across the desk. He turned to set his deadened gaze upon the Sarawanki.
Crail was not even the size of his fist, but already after just two days Pan was understanding a little more of the creature’s rather sizable personality. The familiar, noticing he had Pan’s undivided attention now, slid across the desk and stopped next to the parchment the apprentice was working on. ”Are you going to animate those supplies we picked up from that other place earlier?” His voice was rich with eagerness.
The new bond was an interesting addition to live in Sahova, to say the least. Crail was bubbly and outspoken where Pandaemus was mostly introverted and unsociable. But such boundaries were not necessarily boundaries with the familiar. Their connected souls and minds allowed for an intimate level of relation that Pandaemus had simply never experienced. He was unnerved and cautious of the new development, but understood that these first moments would likely define their relation for the rest of their time together, which was effectively all time.
Pan had showed excessive patience in answering the familiar’s many questions and an uncharacteristic level of friendliness. Pan battled his annoyance when Crail in favor of the familiar’s good nature. He did not want to create hostilities between the two, so he had been experiencing a new level of patience he was not aware he possessed before. It was especially hard when the Sarawanki became restless while he was studying his notes…
Pan and Crail had gone and picked up the personal supplies he had ordered weeks beforehand. Pan did not have enough room for most of the items at his desk, bringing a single wooden orb and leaving the others, along with the cracked manikin to sit, immobile, in his room in the living quarters. Pan had given up on any delusion that he actually ‘lived’ in the room and used it only for storage of personal items too large or cumbersome to keep in his desk in the Randjaqabase.
“Yes, eventually we will animate them, though it may take a very long time to finally reach the manikin.” Pan’s words were heavy with negativity. It would indeed be a long road and reminding one’s self of how far they had to go was not exactly a motivator. Pan leaned back in his chair and turned his gaze back to the parchment. “I have to figure it all out first though, Crail.”
“So let’s figure it out. What are we trying to do right now?” Crail asked, a small wobble of water indicating the parchment.
Pan was not used to explaining his work, but had been practicing collaboration and trust with the familiar. They were connected, and would need trust to function. After all, that was the whole purpose in getting one in the first place, Pan reminded himself. Crail had been questioning Pan about his work constantly, the wizard had found it slowed him down. However, he had dealt with it because Crail would have to learn sometime, and Pan enjoyed speaking about magic almost as much as he enjoyed performing it. Because a proper ally had never presented themselves, he had not really experienced the conferencing that he was now subject to with Crail. The Sarawanki was a good being, and Pan needed someone to trust here on the island. Someone in life… But Pan had to be careful adjusting to having someone to share his experiences with. He had no previous practice.
He forced himself to indulge the familiar, then though he knew it was wasting valuable time. The Nuit virtue of almost faultless patience was somewhat lost on the young undead apprentice. “Before I animate the construct I need to actually figure out how to go about it.” The apprentice gestured to the parchment.
“What is sentience? To feel, to perceive, to think subjectively…” The familiar read from the sheet. “And this is what you have so far?” Crail’s question held an ill-concealed taint of amusement. Pan turned an angry glare at the blob of water. The Sarawanki’s form was consumed by bubbles that moved to the top surface of his body, like boiling water. Pan had deduced that this was akin to mirth. “Sorry, no, it’s good.”
Pan swatted at Crail with his quill. Such jibes at his person were never tolerable to him before, but somehow the Sarawanki’s good nature made it acceptable. “There is quite a bit of work in achieving that simple bit of theory! You’d be surprised. I confess, I am disheartened just thinking about it.” The words came out more grumpily and hopeless than the Nuit had intended.
Crail sprouted through the air, water sliding over itself in a way that only the Sarawanki could achieve. He landed neatly on Pan’s thin, boney shoulder. The familiar then seeped his way between the folds of Pan’s cloak. The tiny Sarawanki had trouble retaining heat and would spend a lot of time either beside Pan’s candle or tucked away in his clothing. When hidden like this, Crail often resorted to the still jarringly disorienting ability they share of communicating with thoughts. It still surprised Pan to hear the amiable familiar inside his own head, though the connection to the small creature was always felt in some subtle way.
So don’t think about it. What is the next step?
.
