Chapter 7:
Re;built in another world
Everything is silent in Einsell at night. I know this, for night is the only time when I feel free enough to venture out of my abode these days.
I have no strength left. Barely any kindness either. In Gua’s eyes, I must be a useless excuse for my role.
I shuffle out of the bed they allowed me to use. It's platypus sized and has already been bent out of shape by my body’s innate weight. I have taken up the bedroom of the house, barricading myself as far away from the rest of the people staying here. Gua, Perretta, Perren and our maid. I should feel something about forcing them all to huddle in the small living room behind the bakery, but I don’t. I’m only glad I can be on my own as I place a heavy hand on the door, pushing the handle open and shuffling outside. My feet tread silent, trained from years of solitude and walking around the house at night.
I head for the bakery part of the house to relax, stepping over my daughter and the others’ sleeping forms, Perretta on the small sofa and others on the floor. The maid is in the pantry, that much I know, deactivated for the night. I prefer the bakery as the evening light seeps through the windows, allowing me to view myself in the mirror running across the length of the room. It's calming.
I look at myself in the mirror, pulling a heavy pin from a pocket in my robes. I've not tied my hair in years, but there's no avoiding it now.
We have, after all, received royal summons.
So I start to work. Dragon hair is hard and heavy with gemstones. We use heavy accessories to hold it in place. I used to be good at it but the hairs keep slipping out of my hands.
I want to smash the mirror.
No. Nono, perish the thought, I have let my anger take over way too many times already. Speaking of, there is another reason I need a mirror here. I did something rather awful a handful of days ago. Something I'm not too proud of. With a deep sigh, I look my reflection in the eyes.
"I'm sorry."
Sounds forced.
"Iiiiii'm sorryy…"
Pathetic.
"Please for-"
That sounds even more pathetic. What am I, trying for an acting award??? They haven’t held those since… since…what again? I can’t remember. It happened more than a few centuries ago, whatever it was. I wouldn't be able to remember it no matter how hard I tried. But even still, I can go fix things up in the present. Aren’t I an artificer? The inventor of the “arti-trams?? Aren’t I a revolutionary who’s worked with the Queen of Einsell herself building this bland-ass city state? Aren’t I the great lightning dragon who was once the richest of them all, had so many courtesans and I guess possibly offspring before I discovered things about myself I wish I’d known sooner? Aren’t I-”
"What are you doing? Also what things?"
I freeze, jolted by the sudden intrusion and I turn around.
—
Akkuiggana had moved from his bed. He had been doing this every single night since my activation an odd few weeks ago. Of course, he was never aware of my priviness to this fact. I couldn’t have let him find out and lose out on a bartering chip. At least that’s what my overthinking module kept screaming at me. In the last few days during our stay with Perretta’s family, he had moved to the bakery part of the house without fail every night and I know he has been eating uncooked pastries, no matter his denials. This is frankly unhealthy, but as a dragon, Gua said that his body was largely impervious to poisons, platypus and glomeruloid being noteworthy exceptions.
There is one other thing. We have received royal summons after the triptophage incident. Gua her own, but Akkuiggana and Ireceived a different summons. Not only did the royalty of this realm know about my existence, but they took the liberty of inviting Akkuiggana with me for some reason. We were to attend in two days.
Due to Akkuiggana’s ineptitude as a father and dragon, as well as my good nature as a maid, plus the fact Gua still owes me favors so I can’t leave my post, especially not if the royalty knows of my existence, I need to make sure Akkuiggana is spending his time prior to the summons productively. No waking up in the middle of the night just to do nothing or eat unbaked pastries. If he's up, he can clean himself up and exercise proper mannerisms. Or talk to his daughter. Either would likely be a positive change.
I follow him tonight and watch him struggle with his hair and start talking to himself.
Again, troubling behavior. He is going to ruin whatever this summons is about if he keeps this up. My overthinking module can practically see him hiding behind pillars within the Queen’s audience chambers. And I need him to shape up.
I step forward.
"What are you doing? Also what things?"
He turns around abruptly before immediately attempting to flee. My repaired golden arm grabs him by the hair as he bolts towards the door leading outside and for once, I find myself overpowering him with ease, even if the rest of my chassis creaks in protest.
“Let me go, you fiend! I shall smite you with my lightning, crush you with my obsidian fangs, tear you limb from robot limb until even your robotic progeny trembles in fear, for I am-”
I pull on his hair and he yelps. “You are making a ruckus in the house in the middle of the night. As your maid, I cannot allow this.” I lock eyes with his frown but see him grin mischievously. I must have said or done something wrong, because I find myself unable to speak. I still continue holding on his hair with my full might, however.
“Haha, see, my promise spell has already bound your actions! Foolish robot, announcing you’re doing this out of your maidenly obligation to me! You curse yo-ow ow!”
I still hold his hair, he must be forgetting. So this is how artifice magic works. I did not expect it to be able to wholly prevent me from speaking. I had only ever assumed it was going to function in a derived, metaphorical sense. But it truly is like a line of programming had been inserted into my code. If I didn’t find it concerning that any dragon could just inscribe runes onto my chassis and make me do whatever they wanted, I would find it fascinating.
However, one of the benefits allowed to me by my overthinking module is my ability to quickly and effectively calculate numerous solutions to any problem I encounter. Usually, my panic module keeps me from choosing any one of the presented options until I can truly make a concrete assessment of the situation, but it has been rather quiet since the triptophage incident, so I do the first thing that comes to mind now. I let go of Akkuiggana’s hair, letting him smack head first into the doorframe, cracking it but falling off balance onto the floor.
“If it’s my duties preventing me from speech, I’ll simply cease to perform them.”
Akkuiggana snarls back, but looks caught off guard. “You can’t be serious, it’s not as easy as choosing to act differently, my own perception of the promise should still play a part in this, and I view you as currently acting to my benefit and in my service, my maid.”
I point at myself. He looks rather pathetic laying splayed on the ground, trying to tell me how to act. “Then I’ll just say I’m doing this for my own benefit. Or even to assist Gua indirectly with the case of her absentee father.”
His front grows deeper, digging furrows into the brow. This has struck a cord, as one might say, I am certain of it. As he gets up, I allow the ribbon to fly from the side of my golden arm, floating around me and illuminating the room in red light. “I am not allowing you to damage my chassis further, or inscribe any more runes upon it.” I say matter of factly.
To the surprise of my overthinking module, however, Akkuiggana dusts his robes off and sighs. “Fine, whatever, I’m not here to argue or fight. Besides,” he puts a hand over his face, “you’re absolutely right. I’ve been an awful father, and I’ve taken it out on you as well.”
I raise my eyebrow. “Have you?”
“Of course I have!” He looks back, red in the face, although it might just be the ribbon’s glow. “Haven’t you noticed? Like, I tried to dismantle you and then I also wanted to destroy you three days ago when I thought you had let Gua die?”
I put a finger to my chin and I can confirm Akkuiggana’s face grows redder in response this time. “Really? I simply thought you didn’t want a handsome automaton programmed to act as a male human walking around your teenage daughter?”
“Why y- No, no, we’re calm, calm.” Akkuiggana takes a few deep breaths, calming himself by fanning air into his face with his hand. “No, that’s not it, although you are very handsome, or even pretty,” he glances at my hair, “it’s mostly been me just wanting to vent my frustrations and fears out at an inanimate object. And for that, I’-m…m…s…y”
“What?” I observe him growing redder by the second. I wonder if he’s overheating, but his expression is that of embarrassment.
“I *cough* am… *cough cough* No, no, can’t do it!”
“Can’t do what?” I ask back.
“Gah, just shut up and give me your hair, turn around, come on! And bring a chair.”
“Why?”
Akkuiggana places a hand over his face again, this time in annoyance. “Because I want to practice my hair tying skills again. Your hair is lighter than mine so it's easier to work with. Do you want me to make a ruckus or are you going to help me out as my maid?”
“Only if you break the promise spell.”
“Fine, whatever, just sit and let me work on your hair. I'll regret this, won't I...”
I welcome this development so I assist him and, in turn, he scratches the symbol he inscribed on my throat. I sit myself on a chair in the bakery and turn away from him. I can sense his fingers running through my long hair, dividing it, moving without much precision as they attempt to weave it around bobs and pins. He is attempting to braid my hair, he tells me that much. Apparently, this is the royal hairstyle for the dragons. A long braid, wrapped atop the back of the head in a large bun, with strings of hair allowed to fall free if need be. The gems in their hair should be weaved within this braid as well, giving it a lustrous look. I suggest tying rocks to the ends of my hair to simulate this, but he is too lazy to fetch any and he doesn’t allow me to go outside. Not that he can deny me that, but I choose to comply this once, as he himself has been oddly compliant tonight.
His work gets better over time and he doesn’t stop despite me suggesting it may be time to call it a night and get some rest.
“I’ve had plenty rest over the years…” He says, continuing the braid. “You have plenty of hair, it’s…beautiful.” He adds for a reason unknown to me.
“Its beauty serves a purpose. There is nothing more to it,” I reply.
To this, he simply smiles. “You two are really alike, frankly. If you were a bit more cheery…”
Unable to decipher his words and content to let him continue in this task in silence, I choose to shift to power saving mode. There is nothing more for me to do but sit, so I lock my posture and drift into a familiar darkness. After all, this too is for my purpose.
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