[Intro, closed] I think, therefore I kill

[Chaelnomyl]

Port Silence was surely a place that lived up to its name. As Dranquay’s hand felt on her shoulder in the typical big brother fashion, Chaelnomyl couldn’t help but glance at him unexpectedly, though her reserved sense of everything held well enough to keep her from yelping in surprise or anything of the sort. The lines of grey warehouses slowly lost the Akvatari woman’s interest and soon it was instead focused on the moving… golems that were able to simulate life as well as their crafters had allowed. A tiny one watched her brother with what Chaelnomyl couldn’t quite qualify as interest, but no less the glass eyes made Chaelnomyl uneasy any time they shifted over her, and she was slightly relieved in turn whenever they left again to watch Dranquay or occasionally the crazy warrior with the gardening tool as a weapon.

Deep blue eyes were drawn to the sailors and consequently the golem that had been given the ability to communicate as they awaited their orders to disembark. The metallic head was a place to look at as it spoke, and while it was interesting… something was lost on its design – Chaelnomyl was sure she could have created something infinitely more alluring and attractive. At least that would have put visitors at ease. However, the more she learned about Sahova, the more she figured that the undead here didn’t really care about putting the living at ease when they visited their homestead. A shame, really. Perhaps they too were isolationist much like the Akvatari. Nevertheless, pale ears listened as they were greeted in a dreadfully drone and monotone voice, inflection and emotion having been luxuries not afforded on this form of communication between golem and actual people.

It gave them the cue to disembark and told them that one of the “Masters” would be here to greet them personally, a remark that Chaelnomyl thinned her lips about and gave Dranquay a sidelong glance in turn in slight confusion. Why would “one of the Masters” come to greet the haphazard, rag-tag band of volunteers that were here to escort some Million Miza Golem off their land and back to the avenues were actual people existed? As they began to disembark, Chaelnomyl floated casually down on the wind as if nothing odd was about the Wizard who was approaching them… if he could even be called a wizard. The Akvatari watched carefully for a few moments in confusion before resigning to look back at the boat and observe the Isur and the Myrian, along with the man who had lost his lunch over the side of the vessel. Poor creature didn’t even know how to take care of himself. Chael might have been more compassionate if she had found it within herself to care. And she presently did not.

Little movement shy the pitter-patter of wings in the salty air left the Akvatari’s body as Lector Qiao spoke and introduced himself as “the Archwizard’s right hand man”. Well, that sounded important enough. Lector seemed like a man that in life might have been something of a kindred spirit in the way he carried himself but his void, hideous appearance was enough to give Chaelnomyl her own look of disdain – he didn’t even know how to take care of his appearance! It was hard for her to put together that the Nuit had little concern for how they actually looked, except for perhaps concealing failed experiments on their present bodily possessions. It was also hard for her to grasp the concept that something definitively dead was speaking at that very moment… though again, she remained silent.

Just as soon as the humanoid Captain made his way to introduce himself to this Lector Qiao, he was convulsing on the floor and losing all ability to control his bodily functions. He frothed like wild animals stricken with ailments Chaelnomyl never properly took the time to identify and relived himself like a child might in the face of danger. All of that had taken place merely by Lector’s gaze, and the Akvatari immediately learned that while there was no outward beauty to be found within the Nuit before her, his mental capacity might have been something to respect.

He had asked for his personal space and there was no reason to think that odd – personal space was quite an issue amongst many races, especially those that enjoyed their solitude. Affording him that comfort in the presence of the weirdest company he could have chosen – an Isur, a pale human he addressed as “half dead” (though Chaelnomyl figured he had just mistaken Javen’s pale, recently sick complexion for a deathly state), a heathen warrior from some foreign land, and the equally foreign pair of the Sky and Sea’s children. Much in the same manner that Akuaysun might have found it odd that he picked none of the actual ship’s crew, Chaelnomyl felt slightly uneasy parting from those who had actually been there and done that before. Still, exchanging a quick glance and a shrug of her shoulders with her brother, the winged creature moved onward, falling in line towards the back of the pack, keeping her distance well away from the hidden Ethaefal and the Nuit Wizard with which what Chael had regarded as a hoe-wielding heathen was now conferring.

Staying somewhere around the same pace that Ialari had chosen from Lector Qiao, and ever close to her brother wherever he decided to be – if he moved up closer, Chaelnomyl stayed only perhaps a few paces behind him, should he near Lector, or consequently at his side if they were farther from the man and the Myrian. Regardless, the land-bound barbarian had a point with what he said and in concert, another surprised glance was thrown towards Dranquay and then back at Akuaysun. A heathen had just spoken at length on something she would have expected from a much more refined, scholarly creature. Still, it seemed odd for him to be so bold as to confront and challenge Lector’s statements while being respectful. He had commanded the Captain into silence shortly before sending him into convulsions and fits wherein he experienced something Chaelnomyl could have only associated with a seizure or worse, given how it had been Djed based, and yet here this Myrian was, conversing with him as if he too were a Nuit wizard philosophizing over the strengths and weaknesses of life.

It was something she would have expected from Dranquay instead. Leaning in to her brother, she nodded towards the Myrian and whispered, ”Surprisingly insightful.” And did not seem to mind if Akuaysun heard, affording him a kind smile if he were ever to glance back at an inopportune moment. Since they were all in this together, for the moment Chael felt least threatened by the foreign hoe-man, as Lector had referred to him, and more so by Lector himself, ironically… though it might have simply been because anything completely lacking in beauty was everything that screamed distrust in her mind.

[Dranquay]

Port Silence it was a strange place that, to begin with at least, seemed to suit Dranquay’s melancholy. An ominous sense of history about the heavy warehouses and what lay behind them to the Akvatari’s mind, something brooding and hidden. He was to be proved right as the place became populated, but this was not necessarily to imply he felt better about this, he indeed somehow felt that the right state for this place was silence… especially when the golems began to appear, powered by Djed: And one of them interested in him.

Alert green eyes returned its gaze with measured intensity. He had limited experience with golems in the past and could not say he found the things entirely comfortable; power and some sense of decision making implied into a non-material form, an entire quandary of life and consciousness in metal… but this particular one apparently watched… but for whom?

So engaged was Dranquay in the cat-sized watch-golem that when the Communicator turned up his first awareness of it was when it spoke. That brought his head snapping around to realise that something else had appeared and slowly begin to frame the idea of non-mortal servants for the occupants of this island. It was an idea he had heard of but never really believed as it was so unlike all other mortals; until now. Of course mortal in this term meant some kind of soul occupying a being that had once lived…but Dranquay perhaps more than many of the group was aware there were other kinds of intelligence, distant histories and rumours of how the soul and the self were not truly tied to any kind of mortal form.

This bore out as the Master greeted the group. As his sister looked sidelong at him Dranquay returned her gaze calmly, floating down over the edge of the boat with her in complete ignorance of the idea of a gangplank. None the less he watched the group of landbound as they disembarked and considered that among the group the most aloof was still the Isur who he watched with vague curiosity as she stepped down and watched affairs unfold with a seeming dispassion that rivalled the Akvatari.

The group closed and the Captain stepped forward… “Silence.” A single word, the word that bound the name of the Port up in its syllables: the Captain collapsed to the floor. Whether he was dead or simply subject to some kind of Djed-induced mind-seizure Dranquay was unsure, his expertise of theory did not extent to the disciplines of Djed manipulation that adjusted the mind. The consequence though was that the Akvatari’s wings fluttered, unsettled as he wondered whether Lector Qiao’s words were spoken out of fear; presumably so. The undead being’s words made the Akvatari wonder as to the nature of the shells they had chosen to inhabit even as he and his sister were singled out with some of the other more eclectic members of the group to accompany the Lector.

As the Lector then selected out a group, the Akvatari fluttered forward and keeping the respective measure of distance. He presumed the Nuit had a reason for selecting the group he had done so, whether it was some kind of scholarly curiosity as to why they had chosen to attend voluntarily or a deeper reason Dranquay was unsure. Indeed he was musing on the selection and choice more, along with the reason for the blatant display of competence in manipulating Djed – and what it said of the Lector – when Akuaysun spoke up.

Flicking his eyes between the Myrian and the Lector something like a ghost of an ironic smile crossed his face at his sister’s words as the Myrian drew to a close. “Yet limited.” He murmured before turning his attention on the Myrian. Had he not been aware of the Lector’s short shrift of patience with not being in control he might have said something along the lines of;

“Then perhaps you should simply say consciousness and avoid the distinction of Life where it regards a body that consumes through food and water.”

But he did not. Instead he turned his attention on the Lector and waited to see what response came. Was the Akvatari fearful of the Nuit? Definitely. His experience with those who were not Akvatari had taught him perhaps more vehemently than his sister that they were a curious bunch with mixed values and opinions. Although he had no issues with the Nuit as some living bodied might have, Dranquay none the less saw what had happened on the docks as witness to a desire to be in control…and was concerned his own abilities with the Void were insignificant compared to the right hand man of a Wizard he knew had been of the Seven if he upset the man. If Akuaysun wished to? That was his choice. Dranquay might yet comment if the response given by Qiao was positive to philosophical debate, but he had no desire to put his sister in danger for the sake of academics… had he been alone? That was a different matter. He felt somewhat responsible for putting Chael here and would be the first to admit it was not entirely safe given he did not know enough about their host.

[Tarot]

As the other four began to assemble through their chosen forms of locomotion, some opting for practical silence, others indulging brief philosophies amongst themselves, only one dared to speak openly. They sure had big mouths up there in Leth's domain. The very moment Akuaysun shared his musing on life and evolution, all eyes were on him. Most of the crew were less than pleased with seeing him pick a discussion of sorts with someone who had just brought their captain to his knees and did not seem to mind speading the love if needbe. At one point, one burly sailor was about to physically make the Myrian shut his trap, only to be restrained by the bosun. Maybe if they stayed away from him they would escape the undead's inevitable fury...

But the living were not the only ones staring at Akuaysun. Having forgotten about Dranquay, even the golems had all rotated to face the hoe-wielding Ethaefal. None spoke or moved, maybe out of lack of speech or programming, but they all posed as an audience at the very least. For a long moment, he was the very center of attention in a completely silent port. Those had been bold words, possibly coming across as a lecture to the very people he had come to do business with.

Then, Lector Qiao turned around, seemingly unfazed, and began to walk away from the ship. The golems retreated from his figure as he passed them, a rudimentary form of respect. It was not until two dozen steps later that his head turned to address him and the rest of the party of five... and it turned a full 180 degrees, looking straight behind him with a crack of long dead bones.

"You are alive, but do not understand life at all," said Qiao. "No-one understands unless they experience the alternative. It is not breath or hunger that makes one weak. There is more." He did not seem inclined to elaborate on the matter, though. With another ancient cracking sound, his head turned back into place. His steps were slow and measured, but they did not have much further to go. Thankfully, they would not have to walk all the way to the citadel, for that would have taken them precious hours.

Just outside Port Silence, a quiet dirt path winded off towards the interior of the island. It was flanked by sparse vegetation, mostly bushes spreading the aroma of exotic spices. Small trees dotted the rough landscape, though there were no animals to be seen. A long open wagon awaited the party, the kind one would expect to see in a caravan except without a horse. As Qiao approached, a mechanism was triggered and two wooden steps slid forward, allowing the undead to get on with ease. There were no seats, and he simply stood near the front. "Get on from the back," he ordered - this way they could respect the personal space he so coveted... though they'd have to stand crumped together on the opposite end of the vehicle, across from the Nuit.

Ten seconds later, regardless of whether people were still getting onto the wagon, he called it into motion. "Proceed," he ordered, and the wheels began turning by themselves, with no apparent power source. He would not mind if the Akvatari chose to fly along - he did not seem to care much for things as long as nobody entered his three-step wide world.

"The only reason I picked the five of you is that Drainira requested the most 'interesting', and the Archwizard agreed to it." he spoke slowly. For the first time there was a hint of emotion in his embalmed words... some platonic distaste at the idea he was mentioning. The Archwizard knew how Lector felt when it came to Drainira - so disgustingly lifelike. Sometimes too much success could turn into failure. "You will get along with her, hoe man. You share the same tendency to argue the benefits of life. And, if you thought of golems as mindless automata, you will think again after meeting her."

"I am allowing each of you one question. Choose carefully, or choose silence."

[Javen Vyta]

Javen pondered his question nervously. Guile was getting anxious in his pouch and it seemed like all of the questions he had been mulling over seeing this place vanished from his mind now.

The undead's ire towards the Myrian was fortunate.

Javen looked at Akuaysun with a half knowing grin, With any luck the wise talking fool will wind up dead he thought.
Almost subconsciously, he began assessing the value of the items on Akuaysun's person, as his father would do over a dead man's estate. His hoe would certainly be worthless to sell. It is also unlikely that he bears much else on his person of value, either. However, the peace of mind from his demise would alleviate at least a few of my concerns Javen mused.

Trying to shake the thoughts from his, he reconsidered the situation.

Of course a strong arm can come in handy from time to time. Then again, A man who turns his back on a Myrian finds axes in his back and hands about his throat. His father's words - certainly true today.

Proceed with caution and take advantage when I can. The thought was both a decision and a mantra of his view on life.
He scanned his surroundings briefly, the golems, the ship, the plain docks, the crew, the Captain.
The Captain.

His gaze centered on the Captain, a little more then momentarily. Yes. Yes, he knew what to ask now.

"May I have anything, advice on customs, devices, or simple direction to better prepare me for what we will face on this task, sir?" he asked, trying not to look directly at the Nuit.

That's right, Javen, keep it respectful, task focused, professional. You just want to do your job - make some money, walk out of here alive, that's all that you want to tell this mage or these fools in your company. I'm just another hired hand - that's our story, so stick with it. His self-counseling fell short of re-assuring but, for now, it would have to suffice. In the face of awesome power and wonderful gadgets, sticking with the plan was all he could do with any measure of sanity.

[Ialari Pythone]

The fact that the Nuit failed to respond to those daring to speak to it by turning their insides outward, revealed a couple of things to Ialari as did what it chose to speak. This thought filled her mind until she got a better look, thought at a distance, of the surrounding landscape.

As the small group began to gather into the horsesless wagon, Ialari gazed around at the sparse vegetation and couldn't help but wonder what sort of source material could be out there for use in her work with poisons. A smaller thought went briefly flying through her mind as she turned to look at the two odd, winged individuals. She wondered what effects certain poisons would have on them as opposed to other living creatures.

Ialari was more than a little uncomfortable being crammed in so close to the others and thus pulled her robes tighter around her and waited with great patience; as much as she could muster anyway, for the wagon to reach its destination.

As the Nuit spoke further, a couple of things became clearer to Ialari. First, it appeared that, while being immensely powerful and capable of killing them all if it chose to do so, it was on a leash of sorts; held by a master much more concerned with keeping this, Drainira, satisfied than allowing its lackey to follow through on empty threats. While intriguing, it was not enough to bring Ialari to act recklessly. Second, this Drainira that the Nuit spoke of sounded as though it were perhaps a golem of sorts; an intelligent one with mortal perspectives. Ialari wondered but was growing more certain that Drainira was the golem of their mission.

Finally, the Nuit granted actual permission to speak. While it seemed that none were particular needed, Ialari nevertheless chose to be respectful of a being much wiser and more powerful than her; even if the wisdom was a little...off."

When it was close to her turn to ask a question, Ialari thought for a brief moment about what she would ask. The Nuit disgusted her but she still couldn't deny her hunger for knowledge. Perhaps it was her in her blood; the Pitrius clan was known for its desire to attain as much knowledge as they could, no matter how forbidden. Maybe it was her own personal choice to seek out that which few others dared experiment with; poisons and other toxins for example. Whatever it was, her disgust was quickly being buried by her hunger to know. Finally, when it was her turn to speak, Ialari spoke up with with a bit of respect in her voice, "Master Qiao, I am humbled that you grace me with your presence and allow me to speak to you. I am certain that our purpose here will be revealed soon so the question you allow me is not in regards to that. What I would like to know is how you are capable of maintaining your body's mobility throughout the process of decay and how it reacts to outside stimuli. Does it "hurt" when your cut or otherwise wounded and is your body affected by poisons and other toxins?" Along with being respectful, her tone was one similar to that of a student speaking to a teacher. Who knew how long the wagon ride would be and she figured what did she have to lose.

While any normal person would probably never fathom asking such a thing, for Ialari it was just another aspect of her constant quest to gather knowledge and learn new things. Afterall, it was the quest for such things that caused her to leave her home so far away and now, in the presence of something that epitomized all things forbidden, taboo and otherworldy, how could she resist taking an opportunity to learn all she could from it. Her discomfort and feeling of unease that she was feeling but a short few moments earlier, were beginning to melt away from the thought of all of the secrets the island must hold.

[Akuaysun]

At the Nuit’s response Akuaysun instinctively looked to the sun lingering in the sky, not much if any recognizable time had passed in the celestial realm but the comments made were enough to strike home for the Ethaefal. If any knew about the opposite side of life it was most definitely him. Of coarse Aku would not hold the man’s ignorance against him, he had likely not stepped out of his research areas in quite some time let alone this very island. As far as Aku knew, not many knew of his kind, they were rare and few between in the lands, easily understandable if most of his race shared a similar need to stay away from recognition or even socialization in this new strange world.

It was hard to say if his fellow Ethaefal were as ancient as he, souls had been reaped before his time and far after. Leth chose who he wanted and his brotherly bonds to Dira insured such whims were fulfilled. For himself however, death and the beyond had been a part of who he was for more then five centuries, just as long if not longer then this body jumper.

As for the weaknesses of the soul, he had more then enough time to ponder on this as well, and was fairly certain he knew what their guide was speaking of. Greed, emotion, jealousy, vanity, pride, all weaknesses of the living, but also of the gods, and even he imagined of this man as well. It was obvious by his distaste for the task at hand that his pride had been wounded, a being that perhaps thought his services would be of use in other areas rather then playing chaperone. But such was the way of things, all had their part to play, and as Akuaysun served Leth, Lector Qiao bent to the will of this unnamed Archmage.

Aku chose silence as the undead had spoken his peace on the subject of his debate. It was obvious that he had little care of the opinions of others, easily enough understood considering the circumstances. As such the faux Myrian let him have his peace, not out of fear but out of respect to the scholar. He understood the frustration of performing deeds that had no clear reason. Still though, it begged to the answer of why the right hand of this lands leader had been selected as their guide.

Their path took them to a wagon with no steeds; likely another automaton designed for one specific task, in this case more then likely transportation. Assumptions were confirmed as they passed from the desolate landscape to the area that directly surrounded the thing and the group was told to board. Not one for manners it seemed the corpse of a man made his way onto the device and situated himself, directing the others to heave themselves up from the rear. Pride was a fault but arrogance more so, and if they were counting it seemed their guide was exuding the quality whilst simultaneously trying to demean his guests at every turn.

As the group loaded into the wagon Akuaysun gave pause, letting others bored before him, and then taking his place amongst the group. If they, as the group seemed to be doing thus far, kept their distance Aku would have little issue with standing near the Nuit, of coarse respecting his barrier as told. In little time the mage commanded the movement of the device and like a child it respectfully obeyed, lurching forward and beginning their trip to the unknown destination. Depending on the ride, and the relative issues that came with standing in motion the young warrior occasionally steadied himself along the railing when needed, but otherwise stayed stoic in his demeanor. Except as the talking corpse made his selection decision known and offered offhand comment about this woman whom was obviously a bit more attuned with the task then their current host, at that Aku smiled and dipped his head a bit. “Then I shall look forward to my meeting with her as well. He paused. Also, I ask Lector Qiao that you return the same respect that I have given you and call me by my name, Akuaysun.

With that he returned to his silence, even as the man spoke of offering them each a question. His came to mind immediately, but instead of offering first word he respectfully waited in order to see what the others would ask of the man. Already he had his share at picking the fellows brain and more so because curiosity had sparked in the form of wonder to what the others in this group thought so far.

First came Javen, he seemed a sniveling worm of a man and the thought was solidified with his question. One of little worth, it was a coward’s prod, a mutts plea for scraps from his master’s table. The worthless pile of flesh couldn’t even give the mage respect by looking him in the eye as he spoke. Pathetic. Next was the Isur, she was little better, whimpering to the man as if he were a god. Aku had met a god and for all the power this being had, he was nowhere near the glory of that type of being, nor did he deserve praise as one. Her question at least was a scholarly one, the search for knowledge he could respect, and it was of coarse why he was here as well. However, sniveling cowards and groveling beggars were of little value except as tools.

Perhaps it was the long exposure to the sun, or perhaps it was the hot blood and emotional state of being in his Myrian form, but Akuaysun had heard enough, choosing to break in at this point with something of his own. Sparing a glance and wicked grin to Chaelnomyl, who had likely just come to terms with the idea that she did in fact know who he truly was, Akuaysun stared the Nuit directly in is sunken and bleak eyes. His voice was firm, more so then earlier bold in nature and speaking with the confidence of a man who had often shared words with death. For he had…

“Lector Qiao, many questions come to mind at first, ones of our tasks though from your statement it seems that Miss Drainira is likely to be the person they should be directed at. Others of exactly how far up your rear side any pupil has managed to successfully stick their head. Though I have a feeling if given the chance certain counterparts of our group would gladly try to best the record. So I ask you something a bit more complex, with meaning as you seem so enthralled with the subject. How is it exactly that the Nuit, or specifically those of this island, have managed to escape Dira’s grasp, to avoid her reaping and in turn cheat the cycle?”

[Chaelnomyl]

At first, Lector Qiao addressed Akuaysun with a reply that Chaelnomyl could not help but respect – the man was capable of quite the philosophy and debate, perhaps even so far as knowledge itself, than she would have expected from something that was quite dead. Still, he claimed that the man knew little of life and would never know until he died. The interesting part was that Akuaysun had not said that breath or hunger made one weak, though given the Myrian’s barbaric nature, she could see how Lector would have assumed that was all the limited mind of the cannibal knew. Chaelnomyl’s eyes had widened ever so slightly when the head spun around as the rest of the body continued to move forward – it was like some Djed driven nightmare come to reality. Still, her expression did not change; the Akvatari watched with interest instead, curious as to how such the breaking of the neck joints was possible and how Lector’s head didn’t topple to the ground as soon as it spun back around.

Her nose took in the smell of the spices and eyes were momentarily drawn off the odd companionship she was now graced with to watch the landscape form up from the bleak general dead state of Port Silence. The wagon that awaited them had nothing to draw the cart, and Chaelnomyl would have found that odd if it hadn’t been for the golems that were on wheels which had greeted them as they arrived on the boat. They were then ordered to board the back, and Chaelnomyl went along with them, still making sure to stay close to Dranquay if he chose to board the cart, and out of the choices – the sniveling weak human who looked like he would join the Nuit soon, the Isur who was full of muscles and that she knew nothing about, and the hoe-wielding Myrian… Chaelnomyl was in a tough spot on who to choose between for the other side of her body. Setting down on the side and sort of in the middle near Akuaysun, she kept her eyes not on the Nuit but on the tall figure of the barbarian with a little hesitation. After all, sitting on the cart, Chaelnomyl couldn’t have been over three feet tall. She rested her arms on the lip of the wagon and kept her tail close to herself, considering she was sitting up on it instead of letting it sit out behind her. For space reasons. Sort of.

Eventually the Myrian spoke again after the brief exchange about Drainira from Lector, and asked that he afford him the same courtesy by referring to him as Akuaysun.

Chaelnomyl about lost her balance on her tail and grabbed on to the lip of the wagon for a second, giving him a rare expression – one of surprise. It was doubly rare for Chaelnomyl because she one was not often surprised and two, did not express emotion in openly and outwardly ways very often. However, Qiao’s statement about allowing them all a question did not completely go over her head or anything – she’d heard it, but had chosen momentary silence to let the others speak while she collected her thoughts and wondered just how it was possible that this barbarian was also Akuaysun, a strange looking man that had shone like the moon and discoursed with her at length about gods, mortals, and other such deep topics. Her brow had furrowed and the small amount of time the surprised look on her face existed vanished even as Javen had finished his question.

The Akvatari gave him a glance, and did not express the growing disgust she was feeling for that man. He was a sickly, disease ridden rat of the party, squeaking about and dripping his question with respect so much that it was borderline hilarious. Why would Lector harm the individuals tasked to take the golem away? They had served no purpose yet. Speaking was not a crime. Chaelnomyl’s question would be simple and to the point. She was aware that many other societies on Mizahar had these tedious things called laws, and while the notion of such a thing was basically laughable amongst Akvatari customs, she had always held that respecting the ”laws” of other lands – as long as they had consequences that endangered her life – was worth a good few minutes of thought.

Javen was asking for free things. Chaelnomyl could never understand the land bound desire for “things”. She wanted very little in life that was material. No items to help her do things. He had asked for advice, devices, and directions and Chaelnomyl figured – since Lector seemed smart – that his question might just become disqualified because it was not one question. It was about three. It also contained the word “may”, which the Akvatari was very aware was a fickle thing – it could be interchanged with “Can” and each provided different meanings for the entire question. Not to mention the imbecile of a land bound had worded the question in about the poorest way she could have thought to ask such a question, if “things” was what he was really after. Which it was likely he was… Humans were always so materialistic and could never stick with just what they needed. That was why they were such great customers for Akvatari art. They always wanted things.

The muscled woman called him Master and inwardly, the Akvatari gave a half hearted laugh. So they had a rat, a puppy, a… was Akuaysun a master of Morphing or something? Chael could respect that. A rat, a puppy, a creature that was from an entirely different realm, and two brilliant children of the sea and the sky. At least her brother wouldn’t disappoint in questioning and wouldn’t be sucking up to the Nuit like the other two were. Still she stayed silent, curious about why Ialari was so interested in toxins and poisons. That was a little unnerving. It was at least a bit of a prying question that made some sense, but Chaelnomyl also figured Lector was going to take it as she had – Ialari was obviously asking so that she could cause him harm later. Interesting.

The wicked grin from Akuaysun shortly before he asked his question affirmed something – he remembered her, and obviously, it was not simply a coincidence that he was called Akuaysun. Perhaps the creature he was granted him some form of mimicry for other races. Or something. She couldn’t remember if he’d mentioned anything about it but it was still very, very perplexing. Her contemplation on that issue was rightfully distracted by his exposition and the following question. Cheat the cycle, Dira’s grasp. Chaelnomyl gave a half smile. That sounded about right considering how the man had expounded on the Gods during their first meeting. It had eventually prompted her to speak after the cordial amount of time and space had passed to allow Lector to take it in. When it was right, Chaelnomyl decided to pose her own question. A simple glance around the group to make sure she wasn’t interrupting anyone, and then a dry, slightly depressed voice that was natural for the half human half seal winged creature spoke.

”In the interest of keeping to the customs in Sahova and of your people, as it would be inconvenient to end up as the Captain did or similar, what are the customary laws and rules of this island, Lector Qiao?”

Straight and to the point. That was how she was – almost blunt, and without tact in some cases. That didn’t seem too tactless, though. Oh well. Tact, laws, and violence were for the less intelligent races and Lector’s response would surely give her some insight as to how intelligent the Nuit were. If they had lots of laws, they were to be grouped with Humans, their crowning glory to have, as Akuaysun had articulated, escaped the Death Lady’s grasp. Regardless, in terms of respect, Lector was sitting around the same place that Ialari was in Chaelnomyl’s mind – her brother and Akuaysun now sitting above it them, and the sniveling, worthless miscreant was at the bottom where he should be – it was easier to skitter away down there. She had already written him off as unimportant. Lector though, Chaelnomyl hadn’t quite decided on yet… Perhaps he could gain her respect yet. At the very least, it would indeed be a learning experience.

[Javen Vyta]

Filled with scorn at the implications of their answers, Javen remained silent and careful not to confront his companions just yet.

He knew better then to insult this man, Lector, and moreover, he knew enough of them to be confident that, were it to come to blows, he would make sure he was on the right side of that fight.

Two things came to him then, 'Only a fool shakes his fist at an army' and 'Fools make great business partners.'

Yes, these companions might do nicely, after all.

[Dranquay]

A silently held breath, a pause. Would attempting to begin a discussion on the merits of a dead body and the difference between life and consciousness with a dead body inhabited by a soul cause the group problems? Or would it result in the Myrian being granted respect from the Nuit?

The reality, as is ever thus, lay between the extremes. There was something disconcerting about how after drawing attention to himself the speaker gained all the attention, from his companions, from the Nuit and from the golem-watchers that no doubt acted as eyes and ears for other presences which were here yet not.

As that silence stretched thusly came the intermediate reply, although it seemed that the Nuit’s…arrogance in their position – warranted or not – meant that they were unwilling to elaborate. Dranquay watched this carefully, his sea-green eyes almost soft, disconcertingly relaxed – as if not really paying attention – but he was. He was wondering if the lack of desire for elaboration was hiding real mystique or merely a façade of fear. If the mortals knew the truth…

After all a deeper question occurred to the Akvatari: If need and requirement for nutrition was not the curse of life, what was life? Again the Akvatari thought of consciousness and whether the Nuit was necessarily correct: It was clear they were keen to illustrate their superiority to beings according to rumour locked in one body through its existence to degeneration, but then they still possessed souls, did they not? The essence of existence if not life itself.

Thusly there was something about Dranquay’s eyes that found the Nuit’s explanation not only incomplete, but somehow also unsatisfying. It was an evasion, not an aloof dismissal: A thin façade of black cloth pulled across raw wounds and insecurity.

This conclusion did not however imply that Dranquay regarded the Lector as generally weak or incapable of harming himself or the others, but it did alter his perception of the being’s form of existence, lessening his regard for their theory especially as the Lector continued to speak in cryptic words of the Drainira and hinted at dislike: Something emotional there, something lifelike…for want of a better word.

And so the Akvatari hovered and listened as the others asked their questions, a soft smile creasing his lips. The Nuit was not asking them to ask questions, it was asking them to tell it and the ArchWizard more about themselves, to reveal their motivations for being on this trip and their fears.

As if to example in point: The sickly one asked about what it could do not to get itself killed, then the Isur? The Isur disappointed Dranquay by acting submissive to the Nuit, as if a display of acceptance of its power and magical ability would make it recognise that she knew her place. This was disconcerting as in the past Dranquay had always found Isur most knowledgable…or maybe he’d just met knowledgable Isur. Possibly this one was young? Her expression of interest in the sensibility of the bodies the Nuit occupied was however pertinent, even if Dranquay’s own experience suggested Djed. But he’d be interested to hear exactly what the Nuit replied to this, evasion or truth again as the sea-eyed Akvatari watched, satchel clutched at his side.

Then the Myrian again, challenging, attempting to impose a sense of equality upon the situation and test the limits of the Lector. Something perceptive in that despite its belligerence, to mark that the being knew that the Lector was but a servant. Could the exercise at the beginning have been designed to disguise the Lector’s true lack of control over this situation? That it would not in truth be permitted to hurt them significantly before they had been taken to this golem?

Yet after it’s challenged it asked the golden question, the precise nature of these beings ability to transcend the usual cycle of soul departure from mortal body. Dranquay was unable to prevent a raise of eyebrows at this and a small, curious smile creasing his lips, waiting for answers to be given, settled by Chael, before speaking his own question.

Of his sister’s? Again Dranquay’s fingertips touched her shoulder lightly as she asked hers, eyes seeking her own in a silent acknowledgement while the Lector answered. She was unaware and fearful, as Dranquay was fearful: But the elder Akvatari was more fearful of letting the island’s inhabitants have more knowledge of himself than he was of what he did not know, even if her association with the arrogant Myrian suggested a gap in the elder brother’s own knowledge. None the less, Chael was not…stupid, so he did not react quickly to her association with the man, only hoping the Lector would not take too much from it.

But then, after all, he knew from the beginning that most likely they knew nothing of Akvatari: Which in itself was instructive. Therefore when his turn for a question came he simply said.

“I have none that I believe will benefit me, more than you…” Then he smiled and looked to the cat-like being, something…odd in that smile, fragile, almost tentatively arrogant; perhaps bordering on the intentionally infuriating. “Or you. Then again maybe this in and of itself is enough.”

For even lack of questions provided answers.

[Tarot]

Questions demanded answers. Answers had been promised, and promises were the very law of Sahova. The citadel existed solely because of an oath that could never be broken, pinning the Archwizard into a place he had long since stopped caring for. He was the most efficient leader Sahova could ask for, because he had no qualms about undoing what he himself did if needbe. His free will taken away, he had picked Qiao as his right hand man - one who, unlike him, served here of his own free will.

Lector Qiao... a brilliant professor of Glyphing at the Royal Magic Academy in Alahea. One of the few who had volunteered to become a member of "Project Forever", as it had been nicknamed in the Alahean magic circles. Most of the researchers had been forced to join under severe threats to themselves and their loved ones... but not Qiao. Even he hardly remembered his own motives for joining, after five hundred twenty years of existing in this state. They had been good, though - this much he could remember.

As the wheels of the automatic wagon turned, Lector Qiao acquired information on the five gathered around him. More out of habit than any real necessity, truth told. He could part with a little information, but in turn would acquire much more. Mortals always revealed the most when they were put in front of a choice. The more clear cut the choice, the better. By the end of this round of questions, Lector Qiao had placed everyone in a tidy little labeled box, just in case.

Javen Vyta was a man that could be bought with things.

Ialari Pythone was a woman that could be bought with information.

Akuaysun was a man that was only interested in useless things.

Chaelnomyl was a woman whose very existence annoyed Qiao.

Dranquay was a man to be watched carefully.

With his judgment committed to memory, Lector Qiao fulfilled his end of the deal. His words were as monotonous as the rolling landscape around them. Only the occasional bump in the road interrupted his speech, completely uncaring for the obvious tension that had arisen in the group. He knew nothing was likely to happen in his presence, lest they found out why he existed in the solitude of a three-step personal space.

He addressed the questions in the order they had been asked. Javen's came first. He had inquired about several things, but Qiao saw no need to point that out. The whole question made little sense to begin with. "You are taking one of our products to your land. You are supposed to know that place best, or else it defeats the purpose of hiring you."

Ialari's question would have begged an eyebrow had Qiao actually had one to give. "I commend your ability to find a polite way to ask 'How can I destroy you?'", he began. Still, he did not shy away from the answer. "Pain is universal. It is a thing of the soul as much as the body. We can feel something resembling pain. As for poisons, only a few will. I suggest capturing one of my kind and experimenting by yourself, if you can." He was completely serious.

Akuaysun obviously asked for a fact that was as far from practical utility as possible. Qiao gave a smooth answer in his raspy voice. "Dira will not come to Sahova for the foreseeable future. She is too methodical for that. We are popular with several other gods, and she knows it. The memories of the cataclysm are still fresh in their minds." The moment a Nuit stepped out of Sahova, though, they were potentially fair game, though it wasn't nearly as bad as in the west, closer to Black Rock. Nuit were almost unheard of around there.

Answering Chaelnomyl's question did not take long. "Just respect the hierarchy. The Archwizard first. Then myself. Then the rest of the staff. Then the equipment. Then you." They wouldn't stay long, at any rate. Just long enough to receive their briefing and collecting the golem, then they'd be on their way.

Dranquay received a blank stare. "You did not choose a question. You did not choose silence, either. Sometimes the third option is more trouble than is worth."

By then, the outer walls of the citadels had finally come into view. A monumental feat of engineering, probably impossible to reproduce with Mizahar's current resources, they gradually blended with the mountainside, giving the distinct impression of being just the tip of the proverbial iceberg. They had not been left unscathed, though; damage from ancient explosions was visible, having left craters and other unsettling signs reminding of enormous claw marks in the rock. For all their power, the Nuit had not repaired the bastion in the past five hundred years.

There were two sets of walls, the outer being surmounted by watchtowers. They were provided that ballistas, most likely controlled by the same intelligences that animated the other golems. The inner walls were thinner but had been spared the worst damage. Both had a single point of entry - a large portcullis. This was precisely where the vehicle stopped. Qiao's head turned from his guests to the citadel's entrance.

"Drainira, open the gates," he commanded.

"Yes, Master Qiao. Welcome to Sahova, ladies and gentlemen from the mainland." The voice was more of an echo, something airy and feminine that seemed to come from the citadel as a whole rather than a specific point in space. It was also filled with a certain something barely to be found in Qiao's own voice... personality. "I am Supervisor Drainira. Nice to meet you all!" Her voice definitely had the lung-less tone of the golem, yet to compare her to the dock workers would be deeply insulting.

The portcullis creaked open, and the vehicle took it as its cue to resume movement through the archway. "You can think of me as the golem in charge of overseeing the citadel's daily routine. Or, you can think of me as the citadel itself. I won't be offended either way. Would you mind giving me your names, so I don't have to call you by numbers? Default behavior, you see, but it gets awkward fast." Apparently, the Supervisor was talkative. Which was probably why Qiao disliked her so.