[The Silk Palace] Musings of Madwomen (Madeira)

[Savis Maren]

At the slightest touch, Savis lashed out at others. Her undead condition did not endear her to flesh, but the bite of words was a sting she enjoyed immensely. Being offered compensation for pieces of her body, however, amused the Nuit greatly. Madeira Craven was eager to indulge herself, to carry herself into research with muted inhibitions. To Savis Maren, such dedication opened realms of possibility. The Nuit's mind whirled beneath her carefully assembled expression. Already, she'd shown too much of her hand. Savis Maren wasn't inclined to believe that Madeira Craven showed her entire hand. But, she showed more than enough. The undead followed the woman, paying little mind to the awkward motions the parasitic creature that dwelled within her imposed. She followed behind Madeira and watched the door crack open without any kind of participation on the Spiritist's part.

Savis Maren's silver eyes widened as she tilted her head. The words spoken were akin to reprimanding a child, and the Nuit was curious to experience what she might be speaking to. While Madeira Craven closed the door and engaged in opening it anew, Savis Maren allowed the djed within her to materialize in eager pursuit in learning exactly what this Architectrix she referred to consisted of. This magic she'd never heard of before, and aside from the context the name itself provided, there was little she'd come to learn without some kind of indulgence. Djed welled into the silver eyes, giving new life to them as they turned brighter with the Nuit's indulgence. Pleasure coursed through her spine, lips curving into a smile before she muted her visage consciously. As the door opened again, Savis Maren bore witness to the burgeoning aura that welled within the structure. The door's handle, in particular, bore a twisting smoke about it, a shift from the two manipulations so recently placed upon it. Savis Maren felt the barest wisps of contentment arise from the structure, a notion that both intrigued and irritated the Nuit.

... What? she mused inwardly but she was all but forced to let a very unsettling train of thought go. In truth Savis was glad to see it leave. Instead, she allowed those silver eyes to drift the length of the room. The Sight did not fully diminish from her gaze but was used to augment her perceptions. The sixteen-point star came to mind, first. The texturization of the engraving came to her senses as Savis Maren's mind was thrown back to the halls of Sahova. There was a brief flash to vague historical writings she'd perused...

"Alahea..." she mused aloud, her lips curved into a wide smile as she perused the remainder of the lab. Slowly, her eyes returned to normalcy, the djed wilting from those silver pools before she looked back towards Madeira Craven. It was clear, by the show she was making of giving a tour, of wanting to open the door herself... this was something the Spiritist dreamed of. A realization came to light and in truth, it was but a sliver of what Savis Maren wanted for herself.

"This is... passable," she began, allowing her gaze to flicker about once again before she stepped forward. Shadows danced along the floor as she moved closer to the flame. Savis Maren hardly felt the heat against her decaying flesh, but she relished in the atmosphere of the place for a moment longer before she elaborated.

"The accommodations in place are admirable, but this is clearly a space you've recently acquired. Perhaps, Madeira Craven, I can enlighten you. The isle of Sahova possesses arcane laboratories of a similar scale, small and... cozy. The rest are cold and desolate, with more practical circles engraved into the floor. For example, my master on Sahova prepared a sanctum for my trade. The twin circles of Animation were carved into the ground, making it easier to get straight into the workings of the magic. Perhaps, you'd like a demonstration?" she mused, cutting off her observations in an effort to allude to improvements. Savis Maren was adamant on keeping the eagerness from her expression. This place... held such promise, such untapped potential, from the flames that spawned themselves to the ample space available to engage in practice.

"Of my abilities, that is," Savis clarified, a smile set upon her features. The Nuit's backpack, more of a large satchel, fell to the ground. Djed shifted within Savis, a breath-like shudder traversed her flesh. Savis Maren willed for her djed to pour into the crevices that existed between astral body and the physical. She broadened the crevices. The Nuit wound her djed about the disconnected astral limb, re-forming connections before stretching out her astral hand. Two kits lay within the undead's satchel, and Savis gripped at the smaller of the two and pulled her paints from the bag. Laughter gripped at the Nuit's throat, pouring from her lips in a quick, but elated succession. Is Madeira Craven agreed to a demonstration, Savis turned to face her with a coy grin set upon her lips. The Nuit passed her painter's kit to her physical hand before throwing her astral back into the satchel. In that arm, she gripped the Voice Box, providing Madeira Craven with two options.

"I can show you something I've already made," she began, folding her astral limb into her physical. The procedure took time, with Savis withholding speech in order to ensure a safe attachment. Physical fingers gripped at the Voice Box as she continued,

"Or we can figure out something here."

[Madeira Dusk]

Madeira laughed. She couldn't help it. The motion started deep in her chest and was expelled as a peal from her lips. The genuine mirth bounced around the space, and she could almost feel the manor leaning in to examine the sound. Madeira pulled on the thread of awareness, pressing humour into its perception.

Savis's neatly arranged face was clearly underwhelmed, her speech peppered with words like 'passable' 'cozy' and 'small'. In Madeira's home city of Alvadas just being discovered having such a lab would be cause for the Speakers to drag the offender to a public stage to be punished in devastatingly creative ways. And gods forbid you were discovered actually practicing of magic in it. She imagined the kind of freak out anyone from her beloved home would have had if she had shown them this illegal, dangerous secret, and compared it to the Nuits passive reaction, and the incongruity nearly split her sides.

I'm a long way from home. The little things like this that caught her off guard typically cleaved through her heart with grief, but this time the thought merely brushed the aching in her soul as if to remind her it was there. I'm a long way from home, but so is she.

Madeira recovered, one hand braced on her belly and the other on the corner of the lab table. "Please, enlighten me, Savis", she tried to straighten her expression to emulate the Nuit's carful expression but failed. "I'm intrigued to see what a Sahova mage has to offer. But try not to harm the.... Alahea."

She sobered up quickly as she puzzled out the name. She was aware the summoning star she used in Spiritism was a glyph of some sort, but she had never been told its name. She reminded herself to persuade Savis to teach her other useful glyphs, on top of expanding on her ideas to elevate the already elaborate laboratory.

The Nuits satchel fell to the stone floor with a mysterious jangle. It opened of its own accord, and out of it an artists kit seemed to leap into her waiting hand. Projection, Madeira knew. Yet the process disturbed her more than she was willing to admit. She could only sense an astral body when it was dead, and the one that wasn't was wielded by the trusted partner of her very soul. The fact that Savis's hands were moving around her unseen made her every nerve rise to the surface of her skin to hum like an electric current.

A second item rose from the deflated pack, a cube with carved grooves and painted letters laid out in an orderly pattern. The "Voice Box", Savis called it. Madeira stepped closer, braving the perfume and embalming smell that saturated the air around the Nuit to get a closer look. Her first instinct was to touch it and puzzle out its mechanism, but a maledictor knew better than to lay hands on anything they didn't know the purpose of. Voice Box could just be the innocuous name of a contraption that eats fingers for all she knew.

"A remarkable feat of engineering, I'm sure. But I would like to see this ability of yours with my own eyes." She only had her word that she had made the object, after all. "The lab is at your disposal. Perhaps you can even show me what kind of improvements a Sahova witch would make."

That thought hooked its claws into her mind and made itself at home. As much as the idea of Sahova and its resident undead mage scientists dig up resentful thoughts of the widespread disrespect of death and no little amount of fear, there was no denying they were reputed as the cutting edge of research and science. And by her own admission Savis had resided there long enough to have a master and her own sanctum. If she could get the Nuit into some sort of professional agreement, and have her stick around long enough to care, perhaps she could feed off that knowledge to improve her own lab.

Retreating out of her way should Savis start preparing for her own brand of world magic, Madeira let her mind wander.

"How did a Sahova Nuit end up in Lhavit?" She found herself asking as she leaned against the clean virgin chalkboard. Understanding even within their brief acquaintance that the Nuit gave away nothing for free, Madeira was quick to interject. "I understand it's none of my business, and that the past of a Nuit must be everything but pretty", she tried to smooth the no doubt ruffled feathers, and offered her own story as penance. "I'm from Alvadas. I was traded to the Dusk family to teach them spiritism, and in return my own legacy family will learn auristics. But I ask because nobody wanders from one side of the world to the other on a whim. I'm here for duty, what are you here for?"

"I want to work something out with you", she continued. "You've already offered me a hand in your transference and your corpse when it's over. I'm offering you the trappings of malediction and a well stocked and private place to work. I want to go deeper, and see what agreements we can come to and a way to help us both out. But by the gods, I know nothing about you. Who are you, Savis Maren. What do you want?"

x

[Savis Maren]

The Nuit could ascertain that the endless pride of owning one's own arcane sanctum was present within Madeira.

Why wouldn't it be? she mused, knowing that Savis herself would be proud of such an accomplishment. The manor both Spiritist and Nuit stood within was the pinnacle of wealth, a show of Madeira Craven's rise from whatever she was to the woman she sought to become. The trials a world mage endured were relatively new to Savis Maren, a woman who'd spent her entire life under the shadow of powerful personal and world mages. All of these mages sought after Savis for their own reasons, with the young Nuit having little say in the matter. The Nuit's history was not one riddled with pride, but rather reluctant servitude that she swore to herself to never experience again. Savis listened to Madeira's laughter and couldn't help but allow the wisp of a chuckle to escape her own.

I'm intrigued to see what a Sahova mage has to offer... The words echoed through the laboratory, with the Nuit allowing them to pass without contradiction. After all, the illusion of Savis' greatness was something she'd seek to retain throughout her time in Lhavit. Was it so wrong to disguise such things?

No, the Nuit answered in her mind, offering Madeira Craven the Voice Box. If she refused to handle it, Savis Maren would simply place it back into her satchel. When she was given permission to utilize the lab to her means, she did so as the Spiritist asked her questions. Savis Maren's history was one she'd confided to Talora upon her entry into Lhavit, and she'd share it again now. However, first, the Nuit breached into the reserves of her djed once again. As she did, Savis dabbed paint onto each of the tips of her index fingers. She wrote the familiar rune Roza onto the flesh of her forearm. The djed she willed pulled towards the focus, and she severed the astral link between arm and soul. Her arm fell limp beside her, the runic Roza wilting into nothingness.

Savis Maren raised her astral limb, maneuvering her spectral hand towards the one that held the tube of paint. Savis dabbed paint onto the plane of her astral hand. To Madeira, she'd likely see the black paint first adhere to nothingness before the entirety of the spectral limb became visible with the application. Savis pushed forth her astral limb, beginning to form the first, Source circle beneath her feet as she mused aloud.

"The Voice Box is an invention I formulated in the Summer. Strange occurrences with wild djed robbed me of the ability to speak... and so in the name of practicality, I devised a device that could speak for me when I willed it to. However, in the here and now... perhaps I could utilize my abilities to grant this laboratory a more advanced safety precaution," she began. Savis re-applied the paint before she stepped over the circle she'd formed, stretching her astral limb. Next, Savis painted a similar circle around the platform that housed Madeira's rudimentary water systems. Ideas whirled within the Nuit's mind as she slathered paint along the space that surrounded the platform. The circles were complete, and with the last of Savis' focus, she traced a thick, unbroken line that connected the circles. Here, she'd show a measure of strain, her connection with the astral limb weakening. She walked closer and dabbed the runic Pechi onto the very same space she'd utilized for Roza. She grew more proficient in utilizing the basic focus Glyphs, interchanging them in an effort to accommodate her indulgences into personal magic. She did not foray into unknown territory, wishing to become more and more proficient with what she already knew. Once the limb pulled back and she felt strength within her other arm once again, she clenched a fist.

Once she completed forming her circles and retrieving her astral body, she deemed it fit to provide Madeira Craven with the answers to her questions. Certainly, Savis Maren took no joy in the accounts of the past, but she found desire welling within her. Endless, greedy indulgence to both utilize this lab for her own personal ambitions, but also in an effort to join herself into mysterious, unknown magicks that Madeira Craven possessed. The first step to garnering trust in this instance, she surmised, was to divulge willingly. It was clear that her earlier displays required Madeira to play... nice? Or rather, tread carefully. Such notions weren't useful to Savis anymore.

"Sahova did not agree with my sensibilities. The life of a researcher mage, while appealing in its own right, does not grant one free will and the disposition to make use of one's inventions freely. I've served masters in the past and frankly, have no desire to maintain such a status quo. Duty," she mused, echoing Madeira Craven's admission with a parallel of her own, "Is not why I am here. Duty was the norm on Sahova, duty to a dead civilization. Duty to masters and teachers. Duty to the advancement of research for the cause that is Alahea," she spoke in a scathing tone. It was the scars of memory that caused those silver eyes to narrow with distaste.

"Here, in Lhavit, I make my own purpose. My motivations are my mine to make, alliances are mine to create for their own purposes," she mused aloud as she shifted towards the Destination circle. Savis Maren had ideas that she wished to implement, the goal of safety in mind when future experiments grew dangerous and possibly explosive in nature. Savis Maren approached the Destination circle, distancing herself from Madeira but making it clear that the Spiritist held her attention in full.

"I wish for the same," she agreed, her lips curved into a smile as she leaned on the platform. Savis traced over the basins with her fingertips, a soft 'hm' escaping her lips as she found the coverings to each basin untouched by hinges of any kind. It looked to Savis that Madeira's idea of safety precautions took entirely too much time to be practical. She studied the basins in full as she continued to speak,

"Right now, I want nothing more than this. Camaraderie with a being who might appreciate my presence, who might heed the wisdom age bestowed upon me. Together, Madeira Craven, we could do great things. Good things... terrible things... But great nonetheless," she assured the Spiritist.

[Madeira Dusk]

Madeira watched the Nuit move about the room with purpose, dabbing black paint on her body and around the room. With them she claimed she could enhance a safety precaution already in place. Circles upon circles were placed on the floor and on the hinged platform that held the dousing water. Madeira tried to use her limited knowledge of Malediction circles to puzzle out their meaning, but if their was any relationship to the bone magic she couldn't see it. How telling though, that malediction, animation and glyphing all utilized circles in their craft.

Madeira pulled herself onto the lab table to sit, leaving her leather slippered feet to dangle above the stone floor. Distantly she wondered how a house already affected with magic would take to part of itself being superimposed with more magic. She held the thread of communication with the house open and dug deep into the hazy mess of feeling within the manor. It was rather like speaking internally with Allister, or holding a ghost hostage in her body, with part of her very far away and another very present, missing nothing. This way she could know the moment the house stirred or otherwise communicated that something was wrong, and she could demand Savis abort her project.

It was as she was setting up this internal life line that Savis did something she was not expecting: she told the truth. She left servitude in Sahova for freedom in Lhavit, She had done something Madeira could scarcely bring herself to dream about; she shed her duty like so much unwanted baggage and made her own purpose.

"That's admirable of you, to pave your own way", she sighed not quite wistfully, and not dejectedly, but rather like a heavy weight had been carefully laid on her chest. "I'm afraid my duty to my family is not something I can overcome. It's like it's been bred into me, like those dogs who retrieve game. Even when I die, I will come back to serve them for the next five generations." This particular brand of loyalty is required only of the matriarch, yet to Madeira her eventual assent to head of her family was an inevitability. Even having been shipped away and sold to the highest bidder, stranded on the other side of Kaela, she simply did not see a future where she failed to achieve what she promised Allister she would achieve.

Yet in this she had her answers. Her loyalty wouldn't let her leave but her ambition wouldn't let her stay, so what she couldn't overcome she would control. That loyalty wouldn't feel so tight if she was the one holding the leash.

"While I'm here, and it very well could be years, I will do what's expected of me. But to leave it at that would be a waste. This city is built on learning, and its politics are intriguing. I wish to explore both."

At Savis's admission that she wanted nothing more than camaraderie with a like-minded person, Madeira matched her smile. "I do appreciate your knowledge and your company. No doubt we can achieve much together. Besides, nothing like the right friends to get you through the hard times", she clicked her tongue teasingly through her teeth. "Help does not come easy is our situations, does it?"

With this acknowledgement that they were looking for the same thing, Madeira found herself relaxing her guard. They were allies now, whether or not they ever said so aloud. They knew what they wanted and what they had, and beneath there was a spark of genuine interest born from like minds. In her there was a vested interest in making sure the Nuit was content and had everything she needed. And from her Madeira could feel the tattered remains of her web weaving itself to life as she found her first friend in Lhavit.

Slipping off the table and onto her feet, the spiritist brushed the dust from the lap of her dark dress.

"Speaking of which, I'm pregnant, not invalid. Tell me how to help you with this... process."

x

[Savis Maren]

The machinery of Savis Maren's mind began to fire off on all cylinders as she allowed herself a moment's respite from the exertion that utilizing Projection placed on her. The Nuit, of course, would rather invoke magic than risk her somewhat clumsy limbs with the repeated bending and taxing effort of painting such a large circle. Cost and effect were the greatest questions in the practice of magic: but they were questions that had answers. With her circles forged, the Nuit traveled from the basins and over to the toolboxes positioned beneath the work tables. She found small hinges and screws of an appropriate size before returning to her place. Savis' pace was slow, but she didn't demand anything of Madeira. Although the Spiritist seemed excited to assist her, the endeavor was Savis' to have... Or rather, until she decided to utilize the Spiritist as the Source material for her works.

The Nuit found that her indulgences into Animation were simpler when she was not the Source. Scrubbing through the mind and pilfering the concepts needed was quite the chore, and the awkward, invasive feeling of ripping ideas and replicating them was, in her experience, distracting. Instead of answering Madeira right away, Savis found a screwdriver, completing the hunt for tools before she at last returned her gaze to Madeira Craven. The woman's admissions were acceptable, to say the least. In no way would Savis Maren care to admit any kind of growing kinship for the young, pregnant woman. Circumstances differed but in the end, it became clearer and clearer to the Nuit that aligning herself with Madeira Craven was the proper course of action. The thought to 'trust' this woman resurged anew, and Savis Maren felt far more inclined to obey that notion than she did upon first meeting the Spiritist.

Perhaps... one time is acceptable, she thought to herself. The idea met with resistance, inherent anxiety battling out against the need to adapt. Change was so very difficult to accept in the mindset of an immortal being, but nevertheless, she allowed herself to trust.

Soft laughter escaped the Nuit's lips as she returned to the basins, the Destination circle around it marking it as terrain she'd need to avoid in the coming moments. However, for now, she parted her lips even as her hands worked at the basin lids. Slowly, she turned the screw into the edge closest to her. Porcelain dust began to carve out from each side as the screw was driven deeper.

"There's little physical assistance needed for the process once the Circles are drawn. Instead, perhaps take a stool and take a seat in the other circle," she implored the Spiritist. As she finished the statement, two matching holes were carved into the basin's lip, allowing the Nuit a proper platform upon which to install the hinges she wanted the measure to possess. Once the deed was done, she put the hinge into place, lacing both screws and keeping them secure with washers. She repeated the process with the rest of the basins as she continued to address Madeira.

"While I finish putting everything into place... perhaps your attention is better served in listening, hm? As a Spiritist, I'm sure you understand the nature of the soul. The parts of it? The Soulcore, Persona, and Astral Body? An Animator is capable of utilizing ambient djed to form the basis of the soul... Animators create a Soulcore, the basis of being, imposing upon the object its core self. A budding intelligence that is then further worked upon once the Persona is implemented."

With the hinges installed, Savis Maren didn't wait for Madeira to heed her instruction but instead began to work. She dabbed the paintbrush with ink before painting on the surface of the basins. She wove foci into being, using the word Abase in winding chains along the surface of each basin lid. Once satisfied with her efforts, she created a barrier, to seal the Glyph's enhancement to the lid and hinges before moving to the platform. On the platform, the Nuit created similar Glyphs, fully intent on limiting the djed flow of her Animation, pinning it in the concrete points that needed to be utilized. Once she began the process of Animation, she'd be thankful for the flow of djed being restricted and therefore simpler to control.

"Within the Persona is where the power of the Source, in this case... you, matters the most. From the Source, the Animator draws principle knowledge and understanding. We choose which concepts to bestow upon an Animation and which concepts to withhold. To give too little is to render the entire 'automaton' inept. To give too much is to expose oneself to the danger of having a construct that cannot be controlled. Of course... in this situation, we have less to worry about and instead only need to focus on giving the automaton the proper instructions to function properly," she mused. Savis Maren spewed information in quick, breathless bursts, intent on informing the Spiritist of the importance of the steps and why she encouraged Madeira to step into the circle. However, to allow some levity and a moment to allow the information to be properly processed, she changed the subject back to an earlier topic,

"This place is indeed a fount of knowledge, one perhaps less harder to tap into for some than others. However, it's been a proper sanctuary from the troubles of the past. Perhaps... with allies," she emphasized, avoiding the use of the word 'friend' on principle (though she was sorely tempted to use it), "Those endeavors might prove easier," she completed.

"In any case... tell me when you're ready... and we can begin."

[Madeira Dusk]

Despite being a teacher, and a master in her field of study, Madeira had never quite shaken off the compulsion to obey the highest power in a situation. Perhaps that's what she reaped from a two decades under the heel of a hierarchy. So without asking why, she hopped off the desk and carried a stool into the indicated circle, and sat tall and proper as she watched Savis carve two small matching holes in the basin platform. After a moment of concentration the animator began to explain the basis of her magic.

"As a Spiritist, I'm sure you understand the nature of the soul.."

Madeira nodded. She knew souls better than she knew almost anything else. The four structures and its composition could be learned from a book. But years of possession, soulmist, and invoking had given the Spiritist an intimate knowledge of the nature of a soul. She could twist it and manipulate it, control it or empower it. And while nothing could destroy a soul, she had once wrung one of everything it was, until it was removed from the very cycle of life and no longer recognizable as a soul at all. She liked to think she knew everything there was to know about the eternal core of a person.

Which is why she had to put out a hand to pause her teacher when the Nuit spoke of something Madeira had once thought impossible.

"I'm sorry, what?" her voice dripped with disbelief, a small smile threatening her lips like she expected it to be a joke. "What do you mean you create a soulcore? A persona? Nothing mortal can create a soul, just like nothing can truly destroy one. That's not possible." Her Avalad upbringing reared its head then, the one that taught her that 'impossible' was a trite, meaningless word, and her smile faltered. "Okay, a soul. But not a real soul, surely. You mean some kind of limited, artificial soul." Though if she was using dijed to create it, it would be made of the exact same substance as a real soul. Madeira's mind spun with the implication.

Her connection with the house rang with her confusion which was mirrored on the other side. The house was overwhelmed by her mess of emotions and couldn't puzzle them out, not that it seemed to be trying. She felt the walls around them radiating interest not focused on its creator but what she was a part of. The lamps were slowly burning brighter as if to see better, and once or twice the basin platform moved a centimeter or two experimentally as its attention buzzed around the Nuit that was messing with its structure. The house was definitely alive, but did that mean it had a soul too?

Madeira came back to herself as Savis continued her lecture, moving to the importance in the process. Madeira herself would be the Source for creating the persona, making a template for the knowledge the animation would possess in its quasi-soul. Savis expounded on the delicate balance between giving not enough or too much information to the animation, but seemed unconcerned about the dangers of this particular project.

It was a lot to process. Savis' use of levity was after the lecture was appreciated, as Madeira broke her concentration to laugh and roll her eyes theatrically. "In this century that entire sentiment can be boiled down to 'thank you, my friend, we will learn much here together'." she shook her head, amused. The creature with the biting tongue had some strange hang ups even when it was clear she could put her claws away.

Steeling herself for this new magic they were about to preform, Madeira breathed deep and nodded. "Okay, I'm ready."

x

[Savis Maren]

Savis Maren found herself stopping when Madeira Craven pushed up her hand. The breathless cadence of Savis' voice did not lend well to interruption, but she tolerated the disruption as the Spiritist voiced her question. It was, after all, a necessity to address the questions and concerns before they moved on. However, her question wasn't about the process or any sort of asking that would advance the tutelage going on. Instead, it seemed that Madeira was floored by the idea that Savis threw at her. The creation of the three principle layers (for the aura was neither unique to the soul nor truly a part of it) of the soul was the basic standing point of the discipline. A chuckle escaped Savis Maren's lips as she listened to Craven's tone change and her expression fall away. Savis Maren shrugged her shoulders at the following observation,

"Animators do not play as Gods, creating new, original souls. Souls and their principle layers are composed of rich, living djed, as you well know. The Twin Circles connect the Animator to their subject, and we pull djed towards it, into it to form the Soulcore. The creation of artificial layers of the soul is then housed within whatever mechanism we created it for, and the Circles connect the Animator to their project, where we can cultivate it to our liking," she completed.

Savis Maren would come back to the point in time, however she had much to address and once the breadth of levity was reached to her satisfaction, she brought the pair's attention back to the circles. Madeira Craven sat within it for a time before Savis approached her. The Nuit reached into her mouth, long fingertips brushing at the swell of her throat. To a mortal, this process might be painful or gag-inducing, but to Savis it was a routine matter. Silver ichor collected in two droplets over the tip of her index and middle finger. She allowed the droplets to fall into each circle, the silver ichor producing a bright, glowing point within each circle before dissipating into the nothingness.

There was a moment of silence before Savis Maren looked to Madeira with a smile. The Nuit offered the pregnant woman a short bow before she said,

"Thank you, my friend, we'll learn much together," in the first showing of facetiousness in their encounter. Savis Maren had retracted her claws much earlier... but now, she was the picture of contentment before her mind poured into the Circles.

The room vanished from Savis Maren's eyes as the connection to the Twin Circles encompassed her thoughts. The Destination circle, as expected, emitted nothingness. There was a large quantity of space in that circle, but with nothing but furnishings as of yet within it, there was nothing to pay attention to. The Source, however...

An unnecessary swell of breath filled Savis Maren's lungs as the flurry of information swelled within the Source. Jumbled memories and ideas endlessly soared within the Nuit, the gasp that escaped her very much a real one of surprise. The Nuit's eyes even rolled back slightly. Madeira Craven was a being with rich, memorable experiences and even through the gasp there was a vibrant grin set upon Savis' features. The Nuit composed herself, silver eyes set firmly onto the Spiritist as the Nuit spoke next. There was, of course, more lessons to be had. Perhaps Madeira Craven would feel it as Savis pored through her mind. She pulled at the very centre of Madeira's being, but drew nothing from it.

The Soulcore was the first and foremost step of Animation. She found within Madeira the very basis of existence, and replicated it. She pulled forth, guiding the information. She siphoned djed from the Source, carrying the basis of life forth and into the Destination,

"Animators do not create souls. We create artificial constructs comprised of the same layers s soul possesses. The soul is an oddity in it of itself. It survives beyond the body. It... reincarnates, apparently." A new concept to her, learned just this season and an unsettling one at that.

"The construct that an Animator creates does not survive its shell. It is woven into material. These constructs possess an astral body, as well. Each layer of the soul is present within, but there's a mystique about the soul, something that eludes us," she added, a somewhat wistful tone in her voice.

It took several chimes for the Soulcore to form, but once Savis Maren withdrew from the Destination, she'd hear from the connection to that circle the faint murmurings of a 'living' soul-construct.

"Now... that's that. The Soulcore is created, and from there, we move on to the more trying bit of Animation," she told Madeira Craven. From here, Savis Maren allowed the djed to mould within her gaze. Silver eyes flared briefly with the invocation of Auristics, focusing her attentions entirely on the Destination circle.

"Next, behaviors, ideas, concepts," she began as the billowing smoke that was aura arose from the Circle. Djed flowed within the reaches, concentrated primarily within the platform. The Glyphs began to emit a soft glow as the magic was contained within barriers. She guided the information into the base of the platform, guiding the semblance of life into the deepest wooden plank. She transformed that plank, invisible to the mundane eye but seen with the Sight granted by Auristics, into the Soulcore.

"The information given at this stage might take quite a bit of time," she mused.

"Here we can take a moment, however, you cannot leave the Circle or the entire process will be undone. Can I get you anything, Madeira?"

Savis Maren's condition was ideal for an Animator, for long processes could be undertaken with not a thought spared towards the needs of the body. However, such considerations were given to Madeira, for human and what's more pregnant she was.

[Madeira Dusk]

Madeira studied the syrupy fluid that dripped from the fingers Savis had fished down her throat. Her first thought was that it would be some kind of preservative she kept in her body, like embalming fluid. But when the drops inside the two circles glowed with latent power and vanished, she realized she was wrong. No mundane substance could activate magic like that. It must have been what passed for blood in a Nuit, or some other life source.

Savis backed away, and a thrill of apprehension shot up Madeira's spine. There was always a certain level of fear in the unknown. But at first she felt nothing, which surprised her. It was no more than the phantom feeling of discomfort similar to being in the presence of the Dusk family and their Auristics. It was only when the Nuit's eyes fluttered back and she let out a deflated gasp that Madeira started to feel the invasion in the depths of her soul. Private thoughts and memories couldn't help but be flayed open under the Animators attention, and for the first time Madeira knew what it was to be a ghost whose mind was reaped by a spiritist. Her soul was being handled, drawn out. It was all Madeira could do not to throw up her soul defences against the disturbing feeling. Instead she grit her teeth and rode it out, her knuckles white around the seat of her stool.

Savis spoke as she worked. Her hands were still, and she did not move, but Madeira could see the focus in the sharpness of her eyes. She explained the facts about the artificial 'soul' they were creating, and expanded on the process they were going through. Madeira's mind was humming with all the information she had been given in the last half a bell, but refused to let a drop of this new magic escape her.

After several chimes the first step of the process was over, and Madeira relaxed as the presence in the circle left her mind. Curious, she flexed her architectrix magic and let the awareness float to the mansion. It seemed unperturbed by the beginnings of the soul construct, but interested in its development. She left the house to its musings, satisfied that it was suffering no ill effects from the magic, as she faced Savis.

"I'd be grateful for a glass of water. The taps over the sink are hand-pumps. You'll find a goblet on the table." As Savis was seeing to the comfort of her template Madeira took the opportunity to ask her questions. "What kind of ideas and concepts will it need to know? I don't want it to be able to sense a threat itself. Or we might get doused every time we light the hearth. And how will you lift the behaviors out of my mind, when the platform and my human self are so different, will it be able to understand at all?"

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[Savis Maren]

The Nuit nodded in understanding when Madeira explained the nature of the sinks and how to provide for her while she was unable to move. Savis moved towards the table first, taking the goblet from its place as she listened to the woman's questions. They were very good questions, and like most questions of that nature had equally good answers. Savis Maren took a moment to consider the phrasing of her answer, intent on providing sufficient information without spending half a bell on the subject matter. The concepts and ideas bestowed upon even basic Animations could fill textbooks with the sheer depth of understanding needed. The Nuit employed the hand pumps, filling the goblet to its brim before taking herself back to both Madeira and the Twin Circles that the Nuit remained connected to.

Savis passed the goblet to the Spiritist, at last compiling her answer before parting her lips,

"First, let's consider the implications of a blank Persona. For mortal souls, the knowledge of breath and basic bodily functions are written through reproduction, yes? The very basic qualities needed to sustain life? However, an Animation requires much different basic instructions. First, the automaton must be given knowledge of the world. Language, perceptions relevant to function. The ideas of direction, placement, but more importantly, the ability to respond in it of itself. Basic knowledge that we take for granted must be translated into concepts an automaton must understand," she began. While Madeira enjoyed her goblet of water, Savis Maren re-established her connection to the Circles.

The Nuit also took the opportunity to re-establish the connection of the Sight with the aura of the budding intelligence given to the platform and basins within the Destination. She watched the flow of djed shift and change as she wrapped the formed Soulcore with the next principle layer needed to advance. She created the bounds of the Persona before she elaborated on her answer to Madeira Craven. The smoke formed a second layer, billowing smoke growing thicker and richer before she allowed her connection with the Destination to fade away.

"Within the layer of the Persona, there are also written Directives installed into the automaton. These directives are further elaborated with basic functions. They are as laws that the automaton must follow, its budding intelligence bound to these Directives instead of being allowed the free will that a mortal soul possesses. Within your mind, Madeira, there is knowledge, understanding, emotion. All of these qualities are tools at the disposal of an Animator, to manipulate and shape to our liking. Your understanding of the Common tongue will be the link I draw upon the highest. Hinges and joints are given movements based on movements of the body, programmed into the Persona," she elaborated.

As Savis spoke, she wove the directives in place. She implemented a trigger first, intent on using it to her advantage once she wove language into being.

1. Initiate upon the utterance of the word, 'Cha'.

2. Upon initiation, shift platform and lift lids.

3. Throw water into the direction indicated by the speaker.

4. Obey the voices of Madeira Craven and Savis Maren.

The Nuit left the directives in place, intent on defining their nature once the time was right. Savis Maren felt it best to define the simple triggers with knowledge and complexity woven into the automaton over time.

Perhaps, without being connected to the Circles and experiencing the matter for oneself, it was difficult to understand. But Savis Maren, as she fed knowledge and understanding into the Automaton, witnessed the movement of information from Source to Destination. The process in it of itself needed to be experienced to truly understand it all, but Savis Maren did her utmost to explain it all to Madeira. While Savis introduced that information, she invoked the knowledge of the Common tongue from Madeira to the Destination. Words, sentences, sounds and how they formed together. The meaning of each word plunged from Craven and into the Destination. The process took a while, Savis' silver gaze turned hard and focused as she turned silent. Weaving concepts took careful deliberation. Several chimes passed in utter silence before she said,

"The process of Animation is lengthy due to the transference of such information. Fortunately, without the need for advanced movement, this automaton will instead be fed intellectual functions. Knowledge of language, the ability to perceive language being spoken. Trigger words will be implemented as directives in order for functions, like lifting the basin lids and shifting the platforms, will be equated to movements of your body and thus derived from you, Madeira. The movement of hinges compared to the flicking of the wrist, for example. Shifting the platform is derived from the swinging of hips. Knowledge is manipulated to the situation, and such movements are linked to the automaton with the final step, which is the formation of an astral body properly suited to the Destination."

Savis Maren continued forth, satisfied with the automaton's understanding of the Common tongue. Next, her idea was to implement the knowledge of movement, as she'd stated to the Spiritist.

[Madeira Dusk]

Madeira sipped her water and listened. Animation was a complicated process, it seemed. She imagined that if any of the steps Savis mentioned were skipped or fumbled in any way it could make the entire project useless. Or worse, dangerous. Old Avalad horror stories of mad mages and murderous golems rose unbidden in her mind. She would laugh at them now, though gods know she trembled like the other children to hear them. Only now she understood those old tales to be nothing more than superstitious babbling from a people that hated what they could understand.

The spiritist smiled into her goblet, even as she breathed deep and fortified herself for Savis's next soul-handling. The more she saw of the world the more she understood what it was about Alvadas that made its people mad. They feared magic, of course. All sane people did. But they hated it as well. Their madness was a carefully cultivated thing, they loved their hallucinations and impossible logic and spontaneity. So when presented with magic, with its explanations and reasons, it ripped back the veil of mystery and unpredictability they loved to play in. An automaton with out free will or the ability to surprise them, a thing that walked the straight line of function, would creep them out. It was almost better to hear of an automaton that turned to violence, if only to inject color into the story. Even if the color was red.

She pondered Animation as a practice outside her cities view. She had never worked with a magic with such ridged rules. Particularly the use of Directives itself was something she had to wrap her head around. You could make anything you want, that will do anything you want, within those boundaries you give it. With these step by step procedures you can not deviate from, you can make anything your skills and imagination can conceive.

Maybe some of that old Avalad madness remained in her, for the idea bothered her somehow. Possibly because she relied on persuasion and wit and social skills to bend free will the way she wanted. She even had a magic that subtly augmented a will she couldn't reach the traditional way. But there was no reasoning with something who's will, morality and loyalty was written down in unbreakable directives.

She tapped the Architectrix in her house with the back of her thoughts, and felt a familiar, attentive stirring. Here was something she could control, she mused, as she fed her love to it and felt it mirrored back to her. She was well suited to spiritism and hypnotism and malediction and Architectrix, because they were all something that didn't need laws to be controlled. For all she was learning about Animation, she was sure she would never met the kind of easy competence Savis was displaying.

Madeira shifted uncomfortably as more of her soul was handled for the next step, Savis explaining that the movements of her body would translate to the structure. The Nuit explained this would take a long time, and Madeira wasn't going to make herself look like a child by asking exactly how long. Death was patient and so was she, she laughed internally. Holding tight to her goblet and the centering power of Architectrix bond, she grit her teeth and watched.

"Tell me what happens next. Surely there must be a type of activation process when the animation is done, like the blood you used at the beginning."

WC: 587

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