13th of Winter, 452 A.V.
Seventeen days within the citadel, and the Everwalking Nuit had begun his path towards in participating in the research that encompassed all of Sahova. To say that Maeven was excited to proceed was an exaggeration. To say that he was apprehensive was false. Eager, perhaps. To delve far and wide within the sphere of emotional comparison would be a waste of time, for the Everwalking was not one to steep his fortune within the realm of the heart. Sahova was merely the next step in the path to understanding the magicks. Ambition was the primary motivator, a desire to know, but more importantly, to pursue it in an environment that was not so tame as to provide education.
Zeltiva and their 'University' was little more than a puddle in which to dip knowledge. Maeven had outgrown the city and after making the proper arrangements, had come to the citadel in his need to further his knowledge. What he had found was an endless wait, however... Maeven had nothing but time. Half a century's worth of living had created a reservoir of patience within the Nuit and now that he found himself at his goal, right at the precipice of honing himself for the sake of advancement, he was content. Gripped within the Aurist's hand was a note delivered to him by a strange construct, miniscule in size and stature. It reminded Maeven of a box given wheels, a single arm protruding from the top of the hull.
It emitted a strange string of sounds, neither beeps nor ticks, but a steady stream of notes that neither formed a clear pattern, nor gave any inclination as to what the automaton wanted Maeven to know. Instead, the Nuit took to the note to learn what he was to do.
Maeven,
You will report to Lab 41-C in the Gug Adjak and locate Master Erasaides. You are to do so immediately. Submit this note to the golems at the entrance of the lab in order to be admitted.
The note was not signed by anyone in particular, but the script, neat and linear in structure, immediately told the Everwalking something of its sender. A short, curt note, practical in length and delivered not by an organic vessel but an animated construct. It seemed to imply that Erasaides, whoever he or she was, was not one to suffer the company of others or employ assistants to his service. But, he was employing Maeven. Or, rather, taking him as an apprentice. Was there a particular reason for this? Or was Maeven assigned specifically to Erasaides' service? He could not be sure, but he would press forward rather than muse upon worthless questions.
Curiosity was not a practical element. It was a distraction. A fallacy in judgement that evolved into a stream of meaningless, unproductive questioning. Curiosity did not befit Maeven and he decided instead to shelve it, to ignore it. He would instead follow the indications. The Nuit had been in his quarters, waiting of his summons. The walk was a tedious one, silent save for the dragging footsteps of other Meta-dead wizards and hushed conversation that faded in moments only to lead to additional footsteps therein. Maeven found his way to the ground floor of the Gug Andjak and quickly noted that rather than being titled as floor '0' or '1', it was labeled as 20. Indications noted that ascending floors would lessen in number.
Thus, Maeven made his way down.
Staircase upon staircase, the rare sighting of another Nuit, but Maeven did not converse. No one wished to speak to him, and no one more than the Everwalking himself wished to waste time in the meaningless quibbling of the living. Conversation that was not productive was the putrid crutch of the weak seeking validation for their petty, temporary existences. Directions were not required, for the golem led the way, using its arm to guide its safe passage down the staircases. A momentary musing struck the Nuit as to how the construct had climbed the stirs in the first place, but he decided that he would learn in time. He would, after all, be speaking with the creator of the construct. At the very least, he could only assume such a thing.
When Maeven at last made his way to the 21st floor below ground level, he found that his path was blocked by, as stated in the note, golems. Animated constructs much larger than the wheeled box that rolled forward with not a care in the world for the much larger golems. The constructs that the Nuit now faced were slightly taller than his cadaver, approximately five feet and ten inches tall. Two long, slender arms protruded from each side of a tubular body, metal shining in the dim lighting of the level as Maeven stepped forward and produced the note from the pocket of his robes.
The construct took the note and seemed to pause for a moment before tearing the note to pieces and motioning for Maeven to pass. Again, notes passed from the construct, a clear resonance, though Maeven could not understand it in the slightest, but took a moment to look over the construct as it gave him indications that he was quite unable to heed.
Maeven pulled at the depths of his soul as he sought to further investigate the two golems that were before him. The process was rather simple to tug at djed and weave it through his eyes. It was a different matter altogether to pull at his aura, though in a moment, he did so and stretched it outwards, synchronizing it with just one of the golems. They seemed to differ in structure and shape, but Maeven wished only to analyze the one that had taken his note and shredded it.
He noted that the aura around the construct was layered in nature, two different weaves enmeshed and enshrouded within the singular golem. The colour was a rather brilliant shade of blue, though rather than wafting outwards like a smoke or flame, Maeven perceived the aura as numbers that latched onto the metallic skin of the construct. A seven upon the surface of each arm, twelve upon the metallic cylinder that made up the body. Each wheel formed a three. The numbers seemed to correspond to something, and as Maeven continued focusing on the aura, his other senses seemed to fade away.
The resonance faded in his mind's perception of his surroundings and rather, the numbers grew in prominence, shining like beacons upon the surface of the golem's body as Maeven focused upon the golem's right arm. He willed to see through the metallic skin and noted the cogs within that operated the structure. As Maeven continued to focus, the structure within the arm seemed to make itself clear, numbers appearing on each gear, beginning with the first which seemed to operate as a piston, presumably for driving force, with a number of gears present upon the hands. Maeven had very little idea of how it worked, but it was quite fascinating. Clearly the work of an incredibly talented gadgeteer, but it was perhaps the dual nature of the aura that shrouded the golem that interested him more.
But, he would investigate this later.
The Nuit passed the two golems by, keeping his focus upon Auristics and instead switching his focus to the much smaller golem as it presumably made its way towards the workplace of Erasaides. The Nuit did not hasten his approach, but clearly noticed when the construct stopped moving. Maeven allowed Auristics to fade, djed receding from his eyes. The Nuit paused for a moment as his vision blurred, then re-focused for use for mundane purposes, and he passed through the open doors of Lab 41-C.
"Is Master Erasaides present?"
There was no answer, but the golem moved forward and began to 'speak' again, its unintelligible resonance beginning to irritate the Everwalking, but afterwards, it turned around and Maeven followed. Before Maeven could react, a voice came from the next room,
"Welcome to Lab 41-C. I am Erasaides. Take a seat, I will join you as soon as I complete this task."
And so, Maeven waited.
Nader-canoch | Common
