Aysel (2)

“For I am the Bastion.”

Her crimson eyes gleamed with a boundless mettle, and her risen stage under the moon was her domineering throne—looking down on any and all under her gaze. But she didn’t come from a condescending angle, rather it was a sincere expression of her character. After all, Aysel was a dignified apparition, and her clothing matched that illustrious air around her to a T.

There’s that feeling again. She looks human, but appears ethereal… It’s like I can’t look away.

A scarlet-tinted raiment, tattered and wrapped under her arms, hugged her stomach and waist. It was worn over a soft-sable, empire-style dress, settling neatly atop a separate article—a white long-sleeve undergarment with traces of stitched gold at the cuffs. And around her neck, hung a gold and carmine-encased crested gem connected to an ivory collar-like fabric.
I was once again enthralled, yet at the same time, disillusioned by her two differing faces. The Aysel here that flexed her authority and poise, and the blushing performer that lamented in song and first spurred that attraction.

“The Bastion doesn’t budge without my orders, nor does it stay afloat by any other means but my own will. That was the position created for me by the Artificer, the responsibility given to the Keeper of the Bastion,” she declared with arms folded across her chest as she began motioning her hand in emphasis, “And there’s not a speck of dust that treads upon this vessel without my approval. I am the doorway one must go through to—”
“But you didn’t find or notice me, right?”

It was but a split second where her face contorted, undermining her attempt at rebuilding the image of a stolid, sovereign beauty. Another reddened fluster that was immediately corrected and replaced by a skewering glare that clearly said, “Don’t interrupt me!” And well, setting aside her wrathful inner deity, she still appeared no less than a regal woman. A human woman.

“I control this place, therefore I am this place,” is what I’m gathering from her statement. But she refers to the Artificer as her creator, so does that also make her a homunculus? Unless she’s some sort of numen of the Bastion…? No, there’s no way. Just look at her.

Aysel was fixing the disheveled golden ends of her silver hair, nervously searching for an answer everywhere but in my direction. And after a few seconds, she seemingly regained her composure as she awkwardly cleared her throat and continued.

“T-There’s nothing that could have been done about that… Looking over the Bastion, in itself, is a colossal task, and sneaking behind me is… Well… I haven’t had a visitor in centuries that I’m able to actually socialize with, and even the stray Fae aren’t prone to lengthy discussions,” her voice was evidently being led astir and into a tangent, increasing in pace yet slowly dying down in volume, “Those that approach only ever arrive with hostility and failed incursions… That’s why I didn’t notice… And if you were hidden away by our creator, then it must have been in a place only accessible to the Artificer—”
“I told you already though, I came from inside there.”

I pointed toward the empty circular building behind me, which was also the only entrance into the balcony. Her head dropped to her chest as her brows twitched amid a silent and internal struggle. She clearly wasn’t used to being interrupted, and twice in a row at that. Also, I was beginning to suspect that she didn’t actually search through everything. If that room was empty, I could only imagine her skimming through the rooms that weren’t.

Not like I’d criticize her for not checking every centimeter of this place. It would be hypocritical of me to do so.

You couldn’t even pay me enough to inspect a broom closet for longer than the few seconds required to complete the job. For me, the value of time was only second to life itself. How one chose to spend their every second was their greatest freedom. And being able to laze around shouldn’t be a privilege but rather a necessary right.

A pair of creations that are similar to their creator; we’re simply a trio of idlers, huh? Good, that’s fine by me. That’s the type of work culture and environment I can fully get behind. Besides, how big is this place to begin with?

I still had so little information about the Bastion itself. At the very least, I was almost certain that we were floating in the sky, if not at the top of a skyscraper or mountain. But Aysel was constantly referring to the Bastion as a vessel, so I was siding more with the former idea.

Hm, I may as well see it for myself. Besides, someone here seems a bit busy at the moment.

Her eyes were closed as Aysel was still tussling with her inner thoughts, thus I decided to check over the railing that she rested against. And over that ledge, stood a city surrounded by clouds. Numerous buildings were decorated about, and in between them, empty, derelict streets that lacked even lights for guidance.
But there were signs of some life, as the floral environment aboard the Bastion prevailed. Bushes, plants, flowers and even trees were scattered around, all healthy and brimming with life. Someone was clearly looking after them.

“Gee. It’s actually far larger than I thought it would be… But…”

I couldn’t quite understand the surging feeling taking place inside me upon taking a gander. That emptiness that was stretched until the end of the Bastion, devoid of others and seemingly unused, saddened me. It felt as if a hole was carved into my artificial heart. Still, I could at least see why the Artificer had claimed that it was their greatest achievement.

I wonder if they created this all by themselves? But is that even possible? No, of course it isn’t. There’s no way a single person could create something of this size without any help.

“Those buildings have been empty ever since the very beginning. I never understood for what reason any of them were created, but now that I’ve read your letter…” Aysel had apparently regained control over her emotions, yet she didn’t bother turning around.
“Wait, you were unaware of what the Bastion’s purpose was, yet still became the Keeper? Did the Artificer never explain anything to you?”

That was baffling to even consider. She had stated something about searching within the Bastion for centuries after all. But now, she was implying she was doing so without even knowing why the Bastion existed. Or maybe, that was her reason for searching the Bastion to begin with.

“We’re not so different in this regard. I never met the Artificer either, I only remember bits and pieces of them,” her voice was calm and collected, and yet there was a hint of a bittersweet coating in each word, “The hammering of metal, deep into the night and early morning, I can still vividly remember those sounds despite how long has passed. And the day the Artificer gave the Bastion a name, yelling it proudly in triumph… It’s blurry, but the memories are still there.”

Aysel slumped further against the balcony railing, drawing her neck back and into her shoulders. In a low-spirited sigh, she set her eyes on the dancing stray Fae that still lingered far above us.

“And I didn’t become the Keeper, it was a position I was born with, and one I am honored to hold. But I don’t expect you to understand that, and that’s besides the original point!” She suddenly blurted, restoring that earlier zeal, “There are more important matters to attend to! We still have yet to discuss what to do about you, Lu—eeeh?”

Amid her reignited state, her sudden push against the railing was accompanied by the bending and snapping sound of corroded metal—taking her along with it over the ledge. An imposing fall that would certainly kill any human, and my body reacted before I could register what was happening.

“Aysel!”