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Chapter Text

The Adventures of Sieg

Chapter 1

The time the magician Paracelsus found an homunculus that thought and spoke like a human.

Once upon a time, there was-

“A king!” may say my readers all together.

I’m afraid that’s wrong. Once upon a time, there was an homunculus. No, it was not one of the Einzbern family, with prime quality Magic Circuits and able to perform the Third Magic. It was a simple homunculus, the type to be used by magi as a servant around the house. It had brown hair and red eyes, and it was short and weak as many homunculi are.

Me myself I do not know how this came to be, but one day said homunculus banged on the door of a workshop. The workshop belonged to Philippus Aureolus Theophrastus Bombastus von Hohenheim, but everyone called him Paracelsus, because he had chosen that name and everyone could agree the real one was kind of hard to remember. Paracelsus was a magus, and a really skilled one at that!

Once Paracelsus opened the door and saw the homunculus, he was at first overjoyed. It could be very useful to his studies! Maybe it was a gift from Da Vinci! Asking it if it was sent by his friend, he received no response. The homunculus kept silent. Very weird, thought Paracelsus. Da Vinci would have taught it at least some words, or made it bring a letter with it. But when he grabbed the homunculus to bring it inside the house, it made a frightening sound.

“Let me go! Let-me-go!” it shouted, and Paracelsus immediately released its arm. Scratching his head, he slightly bent to talk face to face to the much shorter homunculus.

“So you know how to speak! Tell me, then, who is your Master?” he said, using the gentle tone reserved to children and homunculi.

“No master. Don’t like you,” it said, a frown on its face.

“What?!” yelled Paracelsus.

Chapter 2

Paracelsus decides to give the homunculus to his friend, Avicebron, who desires to create the ultimate Golem.

Paracelsus was quite shocked by the homunculus’ response. Never had he heard words filled with such venom come out of an homunculus’ mouth. Before he could think of anything, someone knocked on the door.

Upon opening the door, a man dressed in blue clothes showed himself. But maybe the most extraordinary thing about him was his mask: it was golden as his hair, and it showed no part of his face!

This man’s real name was Solomon ibn Gabirol, but everyone called him Avicebron. He was Paracelsus’ friend. He had a somewhat cold personality, and it was hard to understand his emotions. Despite living alone in a small house, he dedicated all of his time to research, and for that Paracelsus admired him greatly.

“Good evening,” he said, with a very neutral voice. He immediately turned his head first to Paracelsus, who was still holding the door’s handle, and then to the smaller figure in the background. Even though Paracelsus couldn’t see his face, he just felt the other man rise his eyebrows.

“Ahah, dear friend, good evening! You see, I found this homunculus just earlier in front of my house. It wouldn’t happen to be one of yours?”

Avicebron was a relatively unknown magician, but Paracelsus knew his studies were mostly of thaumaturgian nature. This meant he worked with magical energy, of which homunculi are excellent bearers. Avicebron also lived quite near, so it’d make sense for it to be his.

“No, it isn’t mine,” he answered. His head was slightly tilted towards the homunculus, which kept on frowning, staring Paracelsus down.

“Oh,” exhaled Paracelsus. He had hoped that would be the case.

“But I do need an homunculus right now. I had come here to ask you if you knew anyone who sells some.” Paracelsus beamed at that. He couldn't believe his luck!

“Well then!” the blue haired man exclaimed, “You can have it!” And just as quickly as you read, Paracelsus shoved the homunculus in Avicebron’s arms and shut the door.

Chapter Text

Chapter 3

Avicebron and the homunculus arrive to the magician’s house. But the little one is no ordinary homunculus…

Avicebron was quite shocked by being given the homunculus so rapidly and with no goodbye from Paracelsus, but he was not one to look a gift horse in the mouth. As the two of them started to walk towards his home, he checked the young homunculus now in his care, and he saw that it was observing its surroundings with some curiosity.

A peculiar thing it was, my readers! Scrawny and small in stature, it somehow managed to feel as if it was wise in its inexperience of the world. Oh, who knows how long ago the boy it was based on had died…! Indeed, I do not know that.

Now, as I told you before Avicebron was quite the reserved man. He was however an exceptional worker, with immense interest on the subject he studied. It was only natural for him to interrogate the source of his curiosity.

“What are you looking at?” he asked the homunculus.

“Those, green things,” it said, pointing to the cypresses that lead to the magus’ house.

“They are trees,” he simply answered. That would be obvious to anyone who had ever left the house in which they were born, or had been taught to serve magi since the day they were created. Avicebron was quickly figuring his new homunculus had a different back-story from the usual one.

(Why Avicebron wanted an homunculus I was told later on, and it quite shocked me! But it isn’t relevant to this story. Maybe, some day, I will write it down too!)

While the magus was discussing the wildest theories with himself, the homunculus ran off towards an imprecise point on the horizon. When Avicebron realized it, it was already climbing a tree to its highest branch.

Its brown hair was moved by the wind as he looked around himself, admiring the view near Avicebron’s house. They were such beautiful hills, full of life and color. But as it looked down, it almost fell to the ground! It hadn’t realized it had gotten so high. Gulping, but intrepid as ever, it started to climb down.

Meanwhile, Avicebron was very worried to see his precious new homunculus in such danger! And so, in order for it to not hurt itself, he used one of the oldest spells he had ever learned. His hands rose up mid air, and the homunculus felt itself be clenched by something it couldn’t see. Just as it had climbed the tree, it found itself stand on its own feet on the ground.

“You must not do that,” said Avicebron, “or you will hurt yourself.” But the homunculus wasn’t hearing him, and instead watched the birds fly high in the sky. With a sigh, Avicebron took it by the hand, and started walking towards his house.

Avicebron’s house was small and poor for magi standards. That is not to say it was ugly, or unbearable, but it could not compare to the beautiful castles the Tohsakas and Einzbern lived in. Avicebron was a very serious person and dedicated his life to work exclusively. However, maybe he felt a little lonely. This young homunculus was nothing like he had ever seen before, and he wanted to research it more.

“This is my house,” he said entering it with the homunculus. “If you can’t recall my name is Avicebron. I am a magus. You don’t have a name, I understand.” Avicebron paused and put his hand under his chin, thinking about names he could give it.

He felt like it would be appropriate to give it a name that fit its personality. It was rebellious but honest and very very brave. And what family had been the bravest to exist? Why, no other than the one bearing the Northern heroes! The siblings Siegmund and Sieglinde, and the son of the first Sigurd, and the parallel version of him Siegfried!

“Your name will be Sieg,” he told his now surrogate child, “and you will be a child like any other. You will go to school and return to this house every day.” Avicebron gave Sieg new clothes, one that fit a true child even if Sieg wasn’t one, and he gave him food even though he didn’t need it. Then he put him in a small bed he had created in front of his eyes, and wished him a good night.

But Sieg would not be a normal child. And so, once left alone, he opened the window over his bed and slipped into the night.

Chapter Text

Chapter 4

The story of Sieg and The Talking Cricket, in which we see that young Homunculi do not like to be traumadumped by weird children with adult voices.

Once he jumped over the window, Sieg started to run. You could think about many reasons for why he would do that. Could he feel something about Avicebron that even I don’t know? Perhaps. But it is in my understandings that the little homunculus was a free spirit before anything else.

Sieg ran and ran and ran, but his legs were oh so short! Nevertheless, he still reached an old farm, one that seemed empty without a family living inside. As he reached the wooden door he just opened it as if it were his own and closed it behind him. He slumped to the ground with his back against it much alike a puppet. He was breathing heavily and he closed his eyes to rest a little.

“OI! WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE!”

Sieg jumped, extremely frightened, and squinted his eyes to see better. From far away, he could see a faint light in the house. He rose up and bravely walked towards there.

“Who’s there!” He yelled back.

“I’m Hans Andersen and this is my house!!” croaked a voice that Sieg would have likened to the ones he had heard his way there, if he had the words for it. It was just like a cricket’s.

Sieg did not answer to this. Now you see, he wasn’t like any other boy, who learns what is his and what is not by playing with toys with his friends. All of Sieg’s poor, little life had been spent alone! And seen as the voice would not get any closer, Sieg began wandering about the room.

It was huge. A beautiful table stood in the middle of it, the moon’s rays illuminating some stray plates, papers and pens sitting on it. But the most impressive part of the room had to be the library that covered most of the walls. Had Sieg known anything about books he would have been overjoyed about the collection! Alas, his simple mind was attracted to the golden candlestick on the table, and he began fiddling with it.

“Child!” spoke the old voice again, “leave me alone! Go back to your house.” And finally Sieg saw who he was speaking to.

A small, thin boy was holding another candlestick in his hand. He was even shorter than Sieg and that is no easy feat. Even the homunculus was expecting a much older man, and his head slightly bended to the right. This Andersen’s boy hair was blue, and so were his eyes, glinting behind huge glasses. He could not have looked less evil if he tried. “Are you running away from your parents?! Don’t you know that nothing good happens to children who disobey?! You fool!”

(I must confess, dear readers, that the words this weird cricket told Sieg could have been much harsher. All accounts say he was a sad man, and that this sadness reflected in his words. Writers and artists, as you may know, tend to be melancholic… and quite callous.)

Sieg just blinked and tilted his head to the other side. But then said…

“I don’t. Want to be there.”

“Ah! What child likes to listen to his parents. All you want to do is frolic and laugh. The game and kid continues until you’re no longer able to go on about it… and then you cry bitter tears at your idiocy! I have seen many men who were nothing but grown up children.”

Sieg just stared at the older man and sighed. Andersen was now scratching his head, a snarl on his mouth, seemingly lost in some bizarre creative process!

“But then again what am I if not the opposite… grown in mind but not in body… forever a youth, never to be seen seriously, a weak, pathetic man. All I fear is to see others fall in the same trap, but it’s inevitable…”

(I did warn you about poets’ nature.)

“And yet still! Your weak disposition, young man, is nothing but the reflection of your soft heart! Bravery is a lost concern to today’s world. No doubt, it is also nowadays wretched women’s faul-“

Exasperated, Sieg threw the candlestick at the old cricket. It was not without real ill intent, I say! Just a common reaction me or you could have as well. Now, Sieg’s feeble body did not have the strength to kill anyone. But Hans did fall to the ground, still like a rock. Thankfully for everyone involved, it was only a deep sleep, maybe much needed for the ever working cricket.