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I didn't like the rain.
Granted, before I broke my soul binding I wasn't outside very often, and even less so in the rain, since all I did was stand around in an evil sorcerer's lair looking menacing at their underlings or the prisoners they brought in. The few times I was outside, standing around on the parapets and looking menacing to dissuade anyone from invading the lair, were mind numbingly boring at best but when it rained, ugh.
I only had to do that for a maximum of half a day before getting called back inside, but now, having trudged through a variety of environments for the past few days in what seemed to be a storm that didn't want to stop was reminding me of all the things I hated about the rain, multiplied a billion times because I was, you guessed it, in the rain.
It wasn't the feeling of being drenched that humans liked to complain about. I was an animated suit of armour - I couldn't get drenched. The incessant splatting of heavy drops of water on my outsides was kind of annoying, but the main problem was that there was so much water that it was getting through the cracks and seeping into my insides. My boots were half full at this point and I could feel the water sloshing around every time I took a step.
It was messing with my balance.
Which, combined with my current larger predicament that wasn't the rain, made my situation even worse.
I was travelling through a craggy mountain pass that was not meant for travelling. At all. I grasped a bit of rock sticking out from the wall beside me for support and stepped forward, trying not to slip on the uneven stones beneath me. The water in my boots sloshed and I nearly missed my step. To my right was a sheer drop into nothingness, a void that had misted over in the rain so much that I couldn't see how far I'd fall if I wasn't careful.
As a construct I could survive a lot of things that would kill even a more experienced adventurer, falling from heights and collapsing into a collection of random armour pieces included. (Been there, done that.) But falling from such a height that I shatter into so many pieces across multiple tiers of a mountain… yeah, I didn't want to test that.
I could put myself back together if my pieces were close enough, but in the other case there wasn't going to be anyone to hunt down every bit of me and redo all the disenchanted spellwork before my consciousness dispersed for good. (And I hoped that was the case. That's why I'd chosen this route, instead of any one of the multitude of well established ones around the mountain. I didn't want there to be a possibility of being followed. I didn't want to be forced back to-)
One of my shades that I'd sent ahead to scout for shelter alerted me and I sent a part of my consciousness forward to see through its eye. Through the hazy filter I saw an opening in the side of the mountain, deep enough that it went into shadow.
I physically couldn't sigh, but the relief was so strong I nearly did, anyway.
I recentered myself and clambered over the last few boulders, gratefully ducking into the cave. The sudden lack of rain drumming against me made me feel so much better, but I couldn't relax just yet. Caves were notorious for being hotspots for all sorts of dangerous creatures, and that wasn't just in stories.
I kept my back to the wall and sent my shades off into the depths while I started a sweep from the entrance. They were small wisps of shadow as opposed to my much larger, physical presence, so if there was something in there they would be able to blend into the rest of the darkness and alert me before whatever thing(s) in there came charging out to eat me.
The cave was more massive than I'd initially expected, and by a lot. My shades circled for a while before they got to the end, reporting no signs of life or magical presences. The cave was also cavernous in the sense that the ceiling arched way up. Parts of it must have collapsed because ever since I'd entered the ground had been sloping up to what I found was a massive mound of rocks over five times my height at its tallest that then sloped down to the end of the cave.
The rocks were strange, jagged around the edges, some long and pointed like broken shards, others clustered together. Maybe the mound was constructed by a creature that used to occupy the cave. Weird rocks aside, the cave was clear. I was safe, for now.
I picked a nice nook in the mound facing toward the mouth of the cave so I would be able to see if anything decided to come in looking for a snack and sat down, letting my back hit the rocks behind me with a clank. I left one shade at the entrance as a lookout and lifted my visor so the rest of them could return to the shadows within me, and did a little magic.
My spellwork wasn't the best, but the weave of it was strong enough that the hovering ball of light burned consistently and didn't immediately collapse in on itself.
The rain and the journey must have taken a toll on me because seeing my spell work gave me an emotion. The Collective that made us only allowed us the ability to summon weapons and simple abjuration magic, and the glowing orb was the first spell I taught myself after freeing myself.
I busied myself with something to do. I dumped out the water in my boots and looked down at myself.
In the light I could see the remnants of what passed for my blood streaked over my plates leaking out from between the seams. Armour shouldn't bleed, but I was technically a magical creature and all magical creatures bled in some way. Except they had fancy blood that was gold or silver or blood that plumed into a sparkling cloud and I had inky blood that reflected nothing at all.
I'd hoped the rain would wash it away. It would eventually dissipate on its own but I didn't like seeing it.
Whatever, I don't care, I don't want to think about it.
I removed my helmet and reached into my chestplate to retrieve my travel pack. It was the main reason I was worried about the rain. Or rather, what was in it was the main reason. I put my helmet back on and smoothed out the pack, opening it to take out my most prized possessions.
My books.
They were a bit damp, but the travel pack inside of me being armour had prevented them from being soaked, and for that I was glad. I held them up to the light to make sure they weren't damaged, and only set them down once I confirmed the extent of the dampness didn't go beyond a few squishier leather covers or softer pages.
I was still getting used to casting the spell that allowed me access to an extradimensional space where I stashed the rest of my literature collection. I didn't have the time for that after the adventurers I'd surreptitiously freed from the dungeons killed the sorcerer and everything started blowing up and I'd had to grab what I had and start running.
Now I had the time to go through my collection, sorting through all the series I'd saved up over the years. (By stealing from the sorcerer's library, technically, but the sorcerer stole them off the bodies of the adventurers they killed and it wasn't like they read any of the books I took. So.)
Anyway, it was nice.
I picked out a new series whose blurb seemed interesting and settled into my nook, flipping open the first book. I probably should be thinking about everything that happened and everything that will be to come, but it was raining and I'd been travelling for so long and I didn't feel like it.
Then, something said, you were lucky.
I startled, slamming my book shut, and looked around. I kept my back pressed to the wall. The words came through woven into a telepathy spell, similar to the way the sorcerer would give me orders from a distance. But this spell was different - I'd never seen this structure of spellwork before, and the feel of the magic itself was different. It felt raw.
I couldn't see anything nearby and my shade at the entrance didn't report anything as I tentatively tugged on its connection. Could it be a mountain spirit, manifested inside the cave? I couldn't feel anything either, though, and magical creatures were always able to sense each other through the ambient magic in the air. Unless whatever it was had completely masked its presence, which had to be impossible. Even powerful creatures with strong control over magic itself, like unicorns, could only diminish their presences to disguise as something less powerful.
Tentatively, I said out loud, "Why am I lucky?"
The telepathy spell offered me a direct channel back to its caster which I could use to send my words back also telepathically, but I didn't take it. I couldn't untangle the spellwork enough to see if it would allow the caster to mess with my magic.
That you got this far up the mountain, given what you are.
That didn't sound good. The tone was hard to parse, and I couldn't tell if it wanted me dead or not. I could make a run for the cave entrance, but that meant leaving my back open. "What do you mean? What do you think I am?"
Creatures of insidious magic inhabit these mountain ranges and the surrounding forest, and you're a soul construct, a creature conjured and given consciousness by magic that shuns the natural order. Interestingly, your soul binding is broken.
It meant that creatures of dark magic could sense each other on top of the whole magic creature sensing other magical creatures thing. Like called to like. If it was telling the truth then I was really lucky because something like a manticore or basilisk would be able to attack my spellwork directly, digging their claws and teeth straight into what made me alive. (And I thought the big snake thing I'd had to fight at the base of the mountain was bad.)
But I still couldn't tell what its intentions were for telling me that. Was it going to do what the twisted creatures couldn't, and end me right here and now?
My sword flashed into my hand and a strengthening spell settled over it, familiar magic coming to me in an instant.
Do not attempt to stab me, whatever it was said, voice booming, and the rock around me shifted .
The mound shuddered, the stones flexing briefly, and right next to me a massive eye the size of my entire body opened up, bright blue ringed in burnished gold with a sharp slitted pupil staring right at me. At the same time, the creature released the mask on its presence.
The magical power this thing exuded was heavy, suffocating, so thick and alive and crackling through the air of the cave that it froze me in place with its sheer vastness.
I was dealing with a dragon. A true dragon, a being of pure magic made manifest in the physical world, not a pseudodragon that everyone just called a dragon because nobody ever actually met true dragons.
Oh, what have I gotten myself into. There were true dragons in books but they were supposed to be just that - characters in stories in books.
This thing could squash me with one of its talons (which I was sitting by ) in an instant, or disenchant me entirely and evaporate my consciousness if it even so thought in that direction.
"Okay," I said, voice strangled, and dismissed my weapon. Then I curled up as small as I could around my books and hoped that when it did squish me, my plate would at least save the books. That sounded absurd. I don't know, I wasn't exactly of the most sound mind at the moment.
My ball of light blinked out but the cave remained illuminated by the dragon's eye.
With its mask lifted I could see it now in its entirety, curled up in the shape of what I had originally identified to be a massive mound. Its head was next to me, I was resting in the crook where it curved its neck to rest its head on top of its talons, and its body with wings folded closely tapering off into a long snaking tail that curled its way around the cave, circling me in.
It blinked, but didn't respond.
I desperately wanted to run for the cave entrance, rain be damned, but I also didn't want to provoke the dragon any more than I'd apparently already had. It hadn't killed me yet, so, that was one positive thing about this situation. Remain calm. Remain calm.
It had let me in here, watched me wander around and fumble with spellcasting (with its eyes closed. I wasn't going to ask how), and didn't say anything. That could be good. Or really bad.
Then it eased its mask back down. Not entirely - enough that I no longer felt like I was struggling to avoid getting crushed by its mere attention, but I could still feel it there.
It said, You can continue reading.
I continued huddling around my books, not reading.
I still didn't know what it wanted from me. If it thought I should be killed or not, abomination and affront to ethical magic that I was.
I said, "I didn't ask to be created with soul magic."
Another blink. I didn't imply that.
The response irritated me somewhat, but at least that meant killing me for what I was wasn't at the forefront of its mind.
I mean what I said; you are fortunate to have made it this far. I'm sorry I frightened you.
Okay, so that was a lie. It definitely deliberately revealed itself when it did in order to scare me and now was apologising just for the fun of it. Or something. It was a dragon. It was most likely playing a game, and I was the unlucky hapless idiot who fell into its claws.
"I just wanted a place to weather the storm," I told it. "I didn't mean to trespass on your den. I'll leave if you let me."
This isn't my den. I'm also waiting out the storm, but I'll graciously allow you to stay with me.
If I had eyes I'd be doing the human thing of narrowing them. Was it being sarcastic? It sounded sarcastic. It was definitely being an asshole, but I didn't tell it that.
I waited for it to do something, or say something else, but it didn't, and just lay there in silence while staring at me. So I did nothing too, and just sat there. I did straighten up so I wasn't hunched over my books. (Posture shouldn't bother me as much as it did. It's weird. Maybe it was the plates scraping into each other.)
Time passed in a crawl as the rain pattered on outside, the world beyond the cave mouth a perpetual shifting grey. The fear that had seized me was slowly draining away the longer the dragon didn't do anything to threaten my life and I was getting bored.
Alright, so I picked up a book. If it was going to pounce on me while I wasn't paying attention then the least I could do was die while not being bored. I went back to the book I'd started reading earlier. Might as well get as far as I could into the series. (It was called World Hoppers and was about a group of scholars on a flying pirate ship jumping through dimensional portals in the name of education and exploration.)
Three books later I was not dead, and I was starting to relax more. In the fourth book, a side character died, and I was hit with an intense feeling of agitation. I thought it was me at first, but I had nothing to be agitated about (character deaths saddened me but not like this, and not this much), and when I examined that further I noticed it wasn't coming from me - it was coming through my magical sense to me, from behind me.
I turned my head. The dragon was glaring at me- no, at the book in my hands.
"Are you reading over my shoulder." I said, no question mark because it definitely was. I didn't think a dragon would get so agitated over humans dying, let alone fictional humans. I also didn't know a dragon would be interested in reading in the first place, but what do I know about the preferences of real dragons? (In books, the majority of the time they were eating people and razing cities to the ground.)
The dragon said nothing. Okay, wow, it was actually upset about the character death.
I paused for a minute, then tentatively flipped to the next page. It didn't stop me. I resumed reading. A few chapters later one of the main characters died and the light in the cave abruptly went out. I startled, then remembered that I'd been using the dragon's glowing eye to be my light as I read. (It was a weird realisation to have at a weird time.) When I turned around, its eye was shut and the agitation it was giving off was even stronger. It was faint, but I was made to detect things humans couldn't, and- it was grumbling to itself. Really.
I resummoned my ball of light and continued on. In the next book the character came back to life and after I told the dragon that, it reopened its eye and made me summarise everything that had happened up until that point. It turned out that while it had its eyes closed it could sense movements and spellcasting through its magic sense, but it had no visual reference.
Our arrangement worked for me. If it was invested in reading books with me, then it wouldn't kill me, though at this point I was less convinced of that possibility.
We made it to the end of the series half a day later (I wasn't human and didn't need to rest or fidget and the dragon was a dragon) with me metaphorically holding its metaphorical hand through the rougher parts of the books. In the final book where the characters were stranded in between dimensions with seemingly no hope of finding their way out, it got so scared we had to take a few minutes break for it to gather up the courage to continue. (It wouldn't admit it, but it was definitely scared.)
After I closed the book, it lay there blinking at regular intervals, staring at me and the book in my hands. I was thinking about what we could read next when it said, Again, please.
Well, that saved me from having to think too hard. I picked up the first book, and we started from the beginning.
--
We read through World Hoppers again, then another series I pulled out of my extradimensional stash of the same genre. I made sure to choose one without a dragon as the villain or the villain's sidekick that gets slain in the end, since I didn't know how ART would react to that.
(I was calling the dragon ART now in my head because I didn't want to keep calling it 'the dragon' and in one of the first books I'd read there'd been a dragon called ARTIFICE (in all caps, because the author liked to be dramatic about the dragon I guess). I didn't give it the full name because I was still upset about the whole scaring me thing, so take that, asshole.)
After it got increasingly distressed again at explorers getting themselves hurt and at some points killed, I suggested a change of pace and offered my favourite series, Sanctuary Moon . It was dramatic, there were enough wild twists to break a human's neck, and people came back to life more often than they died. Sounds strange, I know, but that's just how it was.
After the first book, ART said, You skim past the scenes with soul constructs.
I hoped it wouldn't notice, but I guess I didn't do a good enough job of being subtle about it. "I don't like them." As much as I liked the series, there were a couple of books where soul constructs existed, even if in the background. Always as the villain's minions.
It is unrealistic , ART said.
"Fiction is unrealistic," I said halfheartedly. In real life, soul constructs were most commonly created by people with nefarious intent, since all the more ethical casters would just make magical constructs instead. So the book's choice to portray us as villains wasn't the most unrealistic thing about the series. But still. I don't know where I was going with this.
ART ignored me and continued, The explanations offered are unrealistic. The characters often emphasise that it is the dark magic that drives soul constructs to do evil things, but this is simply incorrect. The only role of dark magic is the use of soul magic for dragging souls back from the beyond to animate constructs and bind them. Their actions are solely determined by the orders given by their controllers, which they are unable to disobey due to the bindings. This bothers you.
So yes, I didn't like being reminded that I was feared for reasons beyond my control. For technically the wrong reasons too, but maybe that was just me trying to feel better about myself. The whole reason we were animated with souls instead of magic in the first place was because you had to have a soul for a soul binding to work. I didn't want to think about this too hard. "So what if it does? It's just story stuff, anyway. Books get things wrong all the time."
It is not unreasonable to be upset about this , ART said. It concerns your being.
It was making sense and I didn't like that. "I know," I grumbled. I wanted to get back to reading. That was how I avoided having to think about my real life situation, and it worked very well.
Yet you waver.
"Why does this matter so much to you?"
I am curious about you, and we have time. It flicked its tail toward the cave entrance where it was, you guessed it, still raining so hard we might as well have been in a cave behind a waterfall. Without your soul binding, you are free to do as you wish - including proving to humans their conceptions of you are wrong - but you are here in this mountain which is unwelcoming to even the most skilled of humans or constructs.
"Well, you're here too." It was a weak comeback. I know.
I am a dragon. The things that could easily destroy you can't hope to hurt me.
I should've expected that from the egotistical asshole. It seemed genuinely interested in me, though, which was surprising because I couldn't see why something as big and powerful as a dragon would care about a puny little construct (compared to it) like me.
Did it matter if it knew where I was going and what I was planning to do? Was I scared of its opinion of me changing if I told it? Actually, why do I care about its opinion of me? After the rain stopped, we'd never see each other again, so it really didn't matter.
"I'm crossing this mountain because I need to go somewhere and don't want to be followed. I have this… memory, from several years ago, of when I broke my soul binding. I was somewhere in- near Ravi Hyral and I killed a large number of people. I don't remember much else. The breaking must have messed up my ability to recall the specifics, even at the time." I paused, unsure if I wanted to include more details, but what the heck, I was already telling it everything. "And I actually forgot the breaking itself, too. A year after that I tried to break the binding again, and it felt easy - because it was already broken. The second "breaking" brought up the memory of the first." I paused again, then grated out, "I need to know what happened. If I'd killed all those people after I broke the binding, because-"
I trailed off.
ART blinked slowly. It had to have understood what I was trying to say.
You are sure this happened? It asked.
That surprised me. I'd expected it to finish my sentence, to state my fears in words that I'd then have to grumpily admit to. "I'm sure. The snippets I can remember are vivid enough." The name of Ravi Hyral, the snap of the binding breaking, the weight of my sword coalescing into my hand. I just wasn't sure of the order of things.
ART shifted. For a brief moment I thought it was going to squish me, having confirmed that I did murder a bunch of humans at some point. But all it did was move its head, tilting it toward the cave ceiling thoughtfully. Soul magic, like all forms of dark magic, is unstable and incomplete in its documentation. It's not impossible that the event caused alterations or removals of certain memories.
Well, I knew that. I was hoping that by going to Ravi Hyral and being in the place where it happened, my memory would come back or reconstruct itself in some way that was clearer. If anything, I could attempt to scry and object-read to piece together bits of the event if anything in the area with enough magical energy remained.
Anyhow , ART said. What a coincidence. I am headed to Ravi Hyral as well.
"You are?" I asked, sceptical.
I have errands to run , it said. Some friends of mine require samples of natural material from the surrounding region for their research.
That sounded bizarre to me and I still wasn't sure if I trusted it enough to believe it, but I didn't question it. This whole encounter had been one bizarre revelation after the other. What did I know about what dragons did with their time? Good for it. As long as it didn't bother me after the rain stopped and we parted ways, then everything would be fine.
Then it said, We should travel together.
Reflexively, I said, "I don't think that's a good idea."
I don't see what the problem is. The remaining path through the mountain is no less treacherous, unless potentially getting yourself killed is part of your plan to get to Ravi Hyral.
I hated that it was right.
We are friends now, it insisted, when I didn't respond. It would be remiss of me to not offer assistance.
"We aren't friends. The first thing you did when you revealed yourself was threaten me," I reminded it.
You were going to stab me , it said plainly. I had to discourage you from doing so.
At the time I was going to stab whatever showed up since I was on edge and didn't want to prolong any interactions with hostile creatures. But also, it was a dragon. A true dragon, at that, so even if I did stab it, a) the enchantment on the weapon would have done nothing, and b) my sword would have affected it no more than if I threw a pebble at it. (I didn't have any dragonslaying spells or enchantments in my arsenal. Those were a different kind of soul construct the Collective made.)
Now that I was thinking of the alternative, I didn't know which one would have been preferable. If I did attempt to stab it, it would have laughed at me being the big asshole that it was, then squashed me. What a horrible thought. This really has been a lose-lose situation for me all around, huh.
I apologised , it said. If that is still insufficient, consider this offer my continued attempt to make amends.
I thought about it. "You won't insist on following me the whole way, will you?" I couldn't be sure, given how meddlesome it had been so far.
I will accompany you as far as you need me to, it huffed. And I don't believe it needs repeating, but I have errands to run. I think I speak for both of us when I say you do not need me to chaperone you the whole time.
Chaperone me? Rude.
The offer was nice, I had to admit. The monsters I'd fought on my way up here were a nuisance and one of them had gotten pretty close to fully killing me. I hadn't even met any of the dark magic creatures that ART claimed existed in this area and had no plans for doing so. With ART projecting its fuck-off presence, I wouldn't have to worry about monsters.
So much for never seeing each other again after the rain stopped.
"I will accept your offer," I said slowly.
It blinked at me, as if expecting me to say something else. When I didn't, it said, Excellent. It sounded far too pleased with itself.
"Good," I said, and moved to pick up the second Sanctuary Moon book because we were finally done with that conversation.
There is another issue.
"What now?" I fully swivelled my head to look at it, in case my tone didn't convey my exasperation enough.
That. You will be identified as a soul construct.
"When we get to Ravi Hyral I won't be spinning my head around because some dragon keeps nagging me," I snapped, and turned my head back to a more human acceptable angle. "I can pass as a regular human knight."
I am trying to ensure our journey goes smoothly , it said, and had the gall to sound offended like I was the unreasonable one. It is generally considered improper for knights to keep their helmets on or fully closed in settlements, and you may draw unwanted suspicion.
"I've been fine so far," I said, even though I knew it was a weak argument. After leaving the sorcerer's lair, I had made a point to avoid towns and stick to roads before I stepped off at one point to veer off into the forest, then mountain. Travellers were less likely to pay attention to or question someone in full armour on the road, and I was less likely to run into the Collective's agents the less people I ran into, in general.
I winced internally. Ravi Hyral was a town and that meant a certain possibility of exactly that but I had to take the chance. I just had to try not to talk with anyone and avoid the issue of properness entirely, which was honestly fine by me. Preferable, even.
Ravi Hyral is familiar with magical constructs due to their employment as physical labour in the outskirts so it is possible they will be able to identify you as a construct nevertheless, regardless of type. If someone decides to cast a more complex detection spell and discovers that you are a soul construct pretending to be a human, your situation will worsen. The town does not take kindly to soul constructs, seeing as they were briefly under occupation by a necromancer and her forces four years ago.
That caught my attention. I had been there several years ago for the incident if the fragments of memory were to be trusted, but from ART's description of the history, it was unlikely that I was part of the occupation. The sorcerer I'd been assigned to wasn't a necromancer, for one. Then why had I been there? I was gaining more information, but none of it was helping me piece anything together.
"You sound like you're trying to scare me from going," I said.
I am not , it said. I am all for exploration and research, but I will insist that they be done safely. As you are, your survival is at risk.
I didn't know how to feel about the knowledge that this big asshole dragon was apparently concerned for my safety. But at least it now made sense why it got so upset over explorers getting hurt in stories.
"How do you know so much about Ravi Hyral, anyway?"
I have been there many times. This errand is not new for me.
"Among the humans?"
I have the means to properly disguise myself. Do you?
Ugh. Stupid powerful dragons and their stupid powerful magic. "What do you propose, then?"
Even a simple illusory human face will do. That will greatly lower the chances of you being noticed at all, even if you don't mask your magical presence. Which I would still recommend doing, by the way.
Here's the problem: I didn't know how to do any of that. All I could do was some conjuration and abjuration, with a bit of enchantment thrown in. And I was fairly good at taking apart spells, especially warding ones, on the fly, but that was it. On top of that, if I were to create an illusory face that would maintain itself while I was focusing on other things, I'd have to bind the spell to my inherent spellwork, and I couldn't do that while also working on the spell.
"I can't."
ART was quiet for a moment.
I can.
I waited for it to say something about its great capacity for magic as compared to mine or whatever, but it didn't. It also sounded significantly less sarcastic than its normal tone of voice. It was being serious.
You know this is not difficult for me.
--
I thought about it for a couple of hours.
Correction: I avoided thinking about it for a couple of hours, and read my books.
Another correction: I kind of thought about it.
ART surprised me with a patience I didn't know it had and didn't bother me about it.
I kept coming back to it, though, even as I read. I wanted to go to Ravi Hyral and find out what happened to me but what ART said was true. I was going into a place with a lot of people who were familiar with constructs and knew what to look for, and while I could rely on luck, the slightest bit of unluck could spell disaster for me.
I hadn't even figured out what I wanted to do now that I was free. If I got exploded or disenchanted by angry/scared humans before I got around to doing that, that would suck.
But I still hesitated. I knew using an illusion wouldn't make me human, but people would think I was, and that bothered me? They'd start treating me like one of them and I didn't know how to feel about that. I mean, it wouldn't necessarily be a bad thing. (I think.) But I'm not human, and I didn't want to be human.
And I wasn't going to be, I reminded myself. It was going to be an illusion.
I was having a lot of thoughts about this and I needed to get it over with. I could grapple with my place in the world after I completed my investigation and, what, proved to myself that what I was didn't make me violent like everyone said it would?
Ugh. I was doing it again.
(Apparently being a soul construct came with a complementary package of existential dread and self loathing.)
I hadn't turned a page in my book for a few minutes, so I closed it, and said, "Okay."
And then we had an argument about what was "human enough" to guarantee me maximum chance at success, instead of the minimum amount I'd need to get away with not making eye contact with anyone and acting unapproachable, even though I thought the minimum was good enough. ART insisted that since it was going to be doing the spellwork, we didn't have to be as concerned about scope anymore. (This time, it did bring up its greater capacity for magic.)
Eventually we agreed that a fill-in-the-gaps illusion would work best, where if I lifted my visor or took off my helmet, the spell would fill in the space with the image of a human form, and some other minor details like ensuring the gaps in my articulating joints or chain mail near my upper arms didn't look hollow. The helmet thing was ART's idea; I couldn't think of any situation where taking off my helmet would have any advantage over showing just a portion of my face, but it argued "just in case" and fine, whatever, I was already going to have a face.
It wanted to do more, like give me the ability to take off my gauntlet and gloves, or my chestplate, and I stopped it there because at that point I'd practically be disassembling myself and I'd rather walk into town announcing my identity as a soul construct than appear that much human and have myself open like that.
Then came the matter of appearance. I'd been trying not to think about that but I had to, now. The thing was I didn't care. I knew it was important to humans, whether it came in the form of accessorising or ornamentation or altering their bases in terms of presentation, but look, I'm a suit of armour. I don't care.
ART said that I should care because even among humans, looking a certain way could draw attention (humans love to make things more complicated for themselves), and cited several scenes from the books we'd read. Several times, characters would be derailed from their plans either because someone decided they looked "suspicious" and wouldn't let them into a critical location, and there was that one time in Sanctuary Moon book 3 where the princess' secret twin sister got approached by an annoying suitor at a ball who found her attractive and kept trying to talk to her, resulting in her being unable to eavesdrop on the nobles planning a coup.
Being deemed suspicious at first glance would be detrimental but the very idea of being seen as attractive by someone made me feel nauseous. I already couldn't care less about the relationships in books - I do not want to be subject to that myself, thank you very much. So I told ART I didn't want to look like that.
What do you want to look like? It asked.
"I don't know," I said, frustrated. Face shopping was not at the top of the list of things I'd expected to do after I broke my soul bonding. It wasn't on the list at all.
But the talk of fictional characters gave me an idea. I leafed through my books again, finding the pages with illustrations of the characters.
"Here, make me look like this," I said, and held up a page to ART. It depicted the scene where a young lord was leading his army into battle against the mirror demon that had stolen his rightful place on the throne.
I wasn't pointing at the lord, though. I was pointing at one of the unremarkable knights behind him in the background, just like how I planned to be. Ambiguous, unassuming, easy to lose in a crowd.
ART scrutinised the image for a long while. I was worried it would make me come up with something after all, until it said, This is acceptable.
I didn't need its opinion, but I didn't tell it that. I just wanted to get this over with before I could have second thoughts about it. (I was already having second thoughts about it. They weren't even second thoughts; they just kind of were there, constantly in the background. I did what I always did and ignored them.)
Something in the air shifted. The ambient magic hummed, jolting to life as ART lifted the mask on its presence, and sharpened into something precise. It shifted itself, lifting its head from where it had been resting on its talons to face me and again I was struck by the sheer size of it, the fan of its scales, its curving horns scraping the ceiling, its eyes, both of them now watching me.
It extended a talon toward me; an invitation.
Just an illusion, I reminded myself again. Partially looking human doesn't equal being human.
There were so many things that could go wrong. The spell might not work with the dark magic that made me, or I might explode after coming into contact with ART's magic, or it could do horrible things to me while I was unanimated.
It said, Why do you hesitate? Is there another detail you want to specify?
I was going to have to trust it.
Slowly, I lifted my hand and touched the curve of its claw. Unceremoniously, my consciousness was yoinked out of my body.
--
Coming back to myself felt like waking up from a dream. Not that I dreamt, since I didn't sleep, but it felt like what I imagined it would feel like. Slowly settling back into the physical world, with a rapidly fading memory of having been somewhere else - a void, all darkness and silence, but strangely I hadn't felt scared.
Then it was gone and I was back, my body twitching as my presence regained hold of my various parts and pieces once they stopped being a heap of armour and started being, well, me. My joints scraped together when I moved. I'd have to get used to them again. It was annoying.
You're back , ART said, immediately. It was back to its curled up, languid position with its head on its talons, once again a single eye in my field of vision, observing me.
I groaned. (It was more of a creak from my visor hinges.) My helmet felt heavier than usual and I immediately combed through my spellwork to see if ART had messed with anything it shouldn't have. It didn't, and all I found was a new bundle of spellwork attached to mine, currently inert but there nonetheless.
Everything else was fine. My shade stationed at the mouth of the cave had vanished once I disanimated so I opened my visor to let a new one out. Several things happened.
The shade came out fine, and zipped to where the old one had been. That was normal, expected.
The inert spell unfurled itself, ballooning into a net of illusion magic where my visor left my hollow inside visible. That wasn't normal. I didn't expect that.
I fell backward. Or I would've, if there wasn't anything behind me, but in this case I just fell backward a little bit and bonked the back of my head against ART's scales.
Don't knock yourself out, it said. You just came back.
I straightened and refrained from replying with some choice words, because I could feel it laughing at me even though nothing about it had changed. (It was a hunch.) Thankfully I'd been sitting, because if I'd been standing I would've fully fallen and that would've been an embarrassment I didn't know how I'd come back from.
With the spell active, I inspected it closely. The weave of it was similar to the telepathy spell ART had used and was using to speak with me and the structure of it was flexible and robust with layered reinforcement, completely different from the austere, just-serviceable spellwork of the Collective that kept me up and running.
It was weird. I felt weird.
I asked it what I looked like. Even though I'd picked out the reference I still couldn't imagine the face being on me - being mine. The spell hung just within the bounds of my armour, so it was like humans wearing clothing on their outsides, but opposite. At that thought, my face did something weird. The illusion shifted with the emotion.
Oh no, I did not like that. The spell was connected to my consciousness enough to change in accordance to my thoughts. That was one part of not having a face I was going to miss.
ART conjured a flat reflective plane angled just so that I wasn't immediately in it, which was nice of it.
I hesitated.
The deed was done already, and I still hesitated. It was just an illusion, I told myself again. I didn't know why this was so hard for me.
I got up and looked in the mirror. I looked in the mirror for a long time, staring at a storybook background character rendered in physical space, now me. (ART made a few changes so I didn't look exactly like the illustration.) I looked like a nervous human.
I was still wearing(?) armour. Did it count as wearing it if it was me and the face wasn't? Either way, I felt exposed. I slammed my visor shut, stalked back to the nook in ART's neck, and huddled up.
Do you want to read something? It asked.
I didn't respond, but I did pick up the book we left off on.
--
The rain stopped. We finished the first series of Sanctuary Moon and got well into the second one before the sky stopped dumping water and finally cleared up, heavy dark clouds giving way to faint wisps.
ART poked its head out the cave and I recalled my shade since we would be finally leaving. It streaked toward me and disappeared into the shadows beneath my hair, seeping through the illusion and back into my insides. Yeah, I was still getting used to that.
I packed up my books, stashing them properly in my extradimensional space this time, and made my way out. The mountain glistened under the sunlight before us, lower tiers wreathed in lingering mist. It felt so much better to finally be outside again, although that did mean I was going to have to start thinking about what I was going to do once I got to my destination.
ART eased the rest of itself out of the cave, towering to its full height and stretching, massive wings briefly blocking out the sun as they passed above me.
What are you doing? It asked, once I started to continue my trek along the craggy pass.
"What do you think I'm doing?" I replied, now a good twenty paces away, hauling myself over another boulder. "You were the one who suggested travelling together. I'm not wasting any more time."
Silly construct, it said. Return to me immediately. I'm flying us.
Well.
--
Dragon riding was not something I'd expected to do in this lifetime. But there I was, nestled between a fan of scales and lines of spines preventing me from slipping and falling to my death, wind buffeting my helmet peeking over the crest of ART's head. The air rippled around us in an invisibility spell.
The rocky mountains gave way to thick forests, then wide green fields soaked through by the recent rains, sunlight glaring across puddles of water between long stalks of grass.
Does that look familiar? A town appeared on the horizon, surrounded by farmland and sparse houses that clustered more and more the closer we got. I started to sense the beginnings of a vast system of abjuration spells, warding the walls from invasion.
I tried to recall any location information from my hazy memories, but came up with nothing. The wards, though, triggered a sense of deja vu. They felt distinctly different, yet there were elements that I felt I'd encountered before - broken before, maybe. I told it as much.
It said, so you have been here. That confirms that portion of your memories.
We alighted in a copse of trees between two strips of farmland. The town was within walking distance now, a simple dirt path between us and it. I slid off ART's neck, glad to finally be on the ground again, to have earth and not slippery stone under my feet for once.
"How do we get in?" I figured I could break through the wards like I apparently did the last time I was here, though it may take a while because while there was familiarity, much of the spells were different, or configured differently than I remember.
We walk through the front gate, it said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
I made a face. (My face made a face on its own.) "Can't you teleport us in?" I could see all the guards at the gate from this distance, greeting and checking the few travellers moving through. I didn't want to interact with humans. That was step one in How to Get Caught in a Disguise.
ART said it was here frequently so it definitely had a good mental image of areas inside and the anti-displacement and teleport detection spells would do little to stop it.
It turned its snout up and gave me a side eye. Excessive use of force is unwise, especially if there are legitimate methods to achieving the same goal.
I side eyed it back. At least, I hope my face did so. "I'll have to act human."
It wasn't like I hadn't done it before. Sometimes the sorcerer sent us out to trick adventurers or had us accompany them on meetings with allies while trying not to reveal our actual existences, but goodness knows how bad I'd been at actually appearing human. Plus, those times I'd mostly been in the background. It didn't sound like a good idea to attempt it.
It is a good skill to acquire, if you will be among humans in the near future, it said.
It was right. I hated that.
You look the part, it said. I will assist you.
"How?" It mentioned a disguise before, and dragons in books sometimes turned into humans so maybe that was what it was talking about? But then we'd have to have a story if the guards asked and I would have to play along and I was not ready for that. I was already wilting at the thought of having to make "eye contact" with people as I spoke to them. "There is no way this is going to work."
It is simple.
The magic in the air twisted and flared before suddenly diminishing greatly, and I was no longer looking at a looming dragon, but a small hovering lizard with shimmering scales as it floated a circle around me and settled around my shoulders. The invisibility spell around us dissolved.
You are an arcane knight, and I am your familiar, it said. It had diminished its presence significantly, though I could feel the heavy latent power underlying its disguise through the physical contact. I will instruct you on how to behave and what to say.
I knew it had experience fooling humans, but helping me?
A massive true dragon in disguise helping an animated armour soul construct pretend to be human. This is going to go great.