Chapter Text
13th June 2026, edited and updated.
Humanity was known for their endless ingenuity and enduring perseverance throughout the millennia. They were a younger race compared to the ancient Atlanteans and Minoans; humans were weaker without the hardy scales or thick skin with flesh easily pierced by a trident or bull's horn. But, for all their weakness they were resourceful.
As Time marched on, Humans learned.
Sharpened woodened spears became deadlier with pointed flints and before long they were steel, lined with arcane runes that glowed with power. Stories passed from oral traditions would be written down then became great paintings and statues that withstood countless eras. Forges would give birth to swords made of bronze. Gold and silver will become their currency and, even then, another millennia later those would be replaced by something not even the Great Atlanteans could conjure in the past.
There was a stubbornness of creativity that ran in their veins. Unrelenting and ambitious. An almost eternal characteristic all humans have.
Something their Guardian would inherit.
“Let’s see… Adjusting this gear over here should make correct the imbalance she was experiencing earlier," Nanashi Mumei, the Guardian of Human Civilisation, hummed with busy hands as she fiddled with the latest project in her workshop, not minding the dust that began to settle around her while she worked.
It's been a while since she was home in her domain and though Mumei tried to clean the place a little prior to working, it clearly wasn't enough.
The Concepts' domains, their home and place of power, are special. Chaos and Time lived in a separate dimension from the Mortal Realm while Space lived amongst the stars. Nature's was a little bit special; a forest connected to Earth yet at the same time not. A world of in-betweens that few can find.
For the Guardian, her domain was in the human world, hidden and forgotten after millennia. It was a large library with all the knowledge that Humanity had collected, learnt, stolen, and then forgotten. Where was it located? Mumei knew but at the same time didn't; it was nestled in a village long abandoned where the wildlife ran free and the flora may maim you. It was a place Mumei knew by heart, her legs always carrying her back here before too long.
But it wasn't always liked that before, Mumei paused, leaning back to stare at her work as memories flashed through her mind. The memories, they come and go, bits and pieces always lingering but not wholly complete.
It was a simple village before, she could recall. The baker was nice and would often give her free bread whenever she visited. The lord that govern it was a bit of a buffoon but did care about his people enough to open his treasury when harvest poor. A farmer who feared his crops, the maiden who laughed too loud, and a few more maybe. Mumei thought the whole chapter was in one her books, one labelled 867.
Mumei shook her head, there'll be enough time later for reminiscing (If she can remember to, a part of her whispered), and grabbed her quill. She looked carefully at the automaton before her, eyes narrowed in concentration as she carefully dipped the nib into dark ink and began writing a series of runes on the doll's hands, feet, and arms and soon etching the inner gears before ending with a flourish where 'heart' will be.
The automaton, after almost a year's worth of work and scavenging for archaic arcane parts, was almost complete. Just a few things left to do and it will be all done.
Mumei stretched as looked at her work, wiping the oil from her cheeks.
She looked as if she was maiden asleep with her eyes closed and pale greenish hair gently tousled. The metal shell, which Mumei knew to be tough and hardy, looked deceptively like skin. If it weren’t for the fact her chest was still exposed, showcasing the intricate metalwork within, and the noticeable joins on her fingers and arms, she would have looked unmistakably human. Oh, and that hole in her head.
“Hmm…” Mumei paused, taking a screwdriver from the bench she glanced at a parchment before poking an emerald inside the cavity. “Woah” and dodged the hand that immediately rose before freezing in place.
“Right, at least we know your reflexes are working properly, huh” Mumei said, gently taking the arm and putting it back on the table. She glanced at the last pieces that would complete her work. A gear and a windup-key.
The golden gear was the smallest one but the most essential; it would provide the automaton a ‘heart’. Unlike other dolls or robots, she would be able to make her own choices and follow her own desires and grow and learn like a human should.
“Though it would be nice if you can help clean up the place,” Mumei mused out loud.
Months, years, of travels had a habit of leaving too much dust around when she returned.
“But I would prefer that you be happy,”
It was strange a wish, Mumei thought as she closed the automaton’s chest. What initially started out as a project to create help around her home turned into something a bit more.
“It would be nice if you could come with me sometime on my journeys – I think Fauna would like you. There aren’t a lot of green folks around her.”
Mumei took the windup key and carefully inserted it into the automaton’s head. She gave it a small push before turning it clockwise once, counter clockwise trice, and then another push. The key glowed and soon the runes etched on her body did too. It glowed blue then shifted to a minty green before fading.
The automaton’s chest started to rise and fall as the golden key began to turn; her fingers twitched and Mumei can see that her head seem to tilt on her own. Satisfied, Mumei cross her arms on the table as she relaxed.
“Be careful with this thing – it’s like an never-ending battery.” Mumei then said in a low whisper, laying her head on her arms. “It’s something really, really old. I can’t remember from where, but you should treasure it.” She paused. “Or sell it if you ever need the extra cash. It might get you some nice drachmas... Oh wait, I should write down the manual before I forget. You, or someone else, might need it later on.”
“Now that I think about, you don’t have a name yet… You can decide that later on – I’m way too tired to think of one.”
“Uuh… -?”
“Oh hi!”