Sorinne Datharius had always been poor, but she had always had her pride. Growing up on the streets wasn’t easy but she prided herself on never resorting to thievery, and always stepping up when someone else needed help. That was what cast her into the planes – stepping between the Imperial Guard and another child who had committed no crime.

Sorinne had been twelve years old – she was beaten as the boy of eight ran like she told him to, dragged out in the high road, and ultimately shackled and taken to the dungeons. The day after, she was scheduled for execution, an example to those who would defy royal justice. They paraded her into the plaza, forced her to kneel, and held her head down on the block as the executioner approached. His axe, however, would never taste her blood: she had tried to flee left and right, forward and back, rise up and slump down, all to no avail, but in the last second she found a new direction to flee, and threw herself into the Blind Eternities.

Now twenty-three, Sorinne was still poor, on the whole, but had discovered her talents petty as they were could gain her the occasional windfall in the multiverse. Ancient artifacts, hidden caches of gold, lost civilizations – they all existed here and there, and whoever found one would be wealthy. At least for a time. Sorinne had found several such things, but the costs of living had thusfar caught up with her every time. She had been a stupid kid, she told herself. She could make the next haul last, long enough that she might not need another after.

At least, that was what Sorinne desperately hoped was true as she observed the place. The plane was a hellish place, clouds of black ash blanketing the sky so the sun shone through only with a pale crimson light and oppressive heat, flakes of char falling down upon the world like snow. She’d been there three days, and considered it a minor miracle she was still alive, but she had found what she was looking for.

The doorway was carved of black-grey basalt in the shape of a hideously malformed but more hideously human-like face, the passage downward framed by outward-curving tusks.

Even with the ominous entry, Sorinne welcomed the reprieve from the smoke and ash.

“Well,” she sighed, “Now for the idol.”

Down the passage, the temple opened up to reveal a high arching chamber. Vortices of eerie, purple light issued forth from deep rifts in the ground and guttered when the struck the vaulted ceiling above. In the center of the room was a large statue: an obese, humanoid creature with the same fat, tusked face as the entryway sat cross-legged, and held in its hands, upon its lap, an orb that swirled with crimson and black patterns, like a bloody wound only partly scabbed over.

It was ugly, Sorinne thought, but she had a buyer waiting on the orb, and she wasn’t going to judge someone else’s wants. She walked up to it and opened her journal, where she had written down the spell her buyer had taught her, to free the orb from the statue’s grasp. Carefully, she recited it, and called on the magic necessary.

The instant Sorinne completed the spell, the orb shattered – not a fragment was left, the object dissolving into wisps of black smoke that darted quickly outward.

No! Sorinne began to panic. She was so close, and she needed the pay. True, she could go anywhere else in Dominia and try again, but to have it snatched from her like…

“Well, well.” A deep, masculine voice, slick as oil, echoed from the rest of the chamber. “I’m glad to finally have some company in this dismal place… though I must say, it is still not to my liking.”

“Who are you?” Sorinne demanded, “What do you want?”

“I’m a planeswalker.” The voice said, “Just like you. Well, not just like you I suppose. My body is very weak, so I must say I am still trapped here… Unless of course you want to help me.”

Sorinne thought about it.

“Help you how?” she asked, “And what’s in it for me if I do?”

“Well,” the voice replied, “You’d take me from this place, accompany me out in the planes for a while. If you do, I can offer to teach you some of my magic. That, unlike my form, is still exceedingly potent.”

It occurred to Sorinne that the voice seemed to have no source, and she became unsure she was hearing it, exactly, rather than simply hearing it in her mind. Carefully, she considered the offer – she didn’t trust the strange, smooth voice that didn’t show itself, but at the same time the little magic she had vastly improved her lot in Dominia, so more couldn’t help but do more the same. And it seemed somehow inhumane to leave a person here… if he was a person, and telling the truth.

“All right.” Sorinne said, “I’ll help you.”

“You’ve made a wise choice.” The voice replied. “Now hold still.”

Hold still? Sorinne wondered at that request, but froze all the same. A wisp of shadow, or so it seemed, darted down from the heights above the statue and struck her in the abdomen. At once, Sorinne screamed in pain. She felt something moving – no, clawing through her, and saw blood begin to stain her torn clothes as the last hints of something unnatural slithered into the wound.

“Now,” the voice said again, this time very clearly speaking in her mind, “The first spell I’m going to teach you is a touch of healing magic, and it’s imperative you be a quick learner.”

Images followed, sensations of magic, memories of other places, places Sorinne had never been. Clumsily, she tried to mimic them, and after a few horrifying moments, watched as the flow of blood stopped, and her flesh and skin knitted themselves together.

“There,” the voice said, “Isn’t that all better?”

The thing, whatever it was, felt like it was wrapped around her spine, no longer clawing, but slithering, unpleasant but not exactly painful as it moved upwards, laying from between her shoulderblades to about the small of her back

“I didn’t…”

“Didn’t expect that?” the voice asked, “Few do. You’re fortunate I gave you the choice of aiding me willingly and living. I have rarely been so generous when reduced to this state.”

The coiling thing squeezed a little, making its hold on her clear.

“And I can choose to be ungenerous if you want to defy me, so I suggest you not refuse my requests. Now, we have some places to go…”

Mattias the Tinkerer drove his cart up to the face of the ruins. The dusty old place had been an engine mine, but over a hundred years ago it was declared dry, boarded up, and left abandoned: there was nothing left in the ruins below to salvage, they said

But, it was Mattias’ personal and professional opinion that the miners always missed something. They only cared about the intact powerstones and working drives, not about the shards, spare parts, and broken-but salvageable pieces that could be extracted. Until last week, they hadn’t cared when Mattias had come in, spent a few hours picking up their scrap, and hauled off a cart load. Some of the men even said he was doing them a service as a garbage man.

That all changed when the new foreman came in. The first time Mattias showed up to pick his damaged parts and powerstone fragments, she’d watched him for about half an hour, then took his haul, drove him off, and promptly put men to work gathering, sorting, and selling what Mattias had once gotten for his labor alone.

Well, Mattias thought, he’d show that miserable harpy yet. It was possible that tinkerers had picked the old mine clean long ago, but it was also more than possible that everything the operation itself didn’t want was still there.

The entrance was still boarded up, which was good. At the very least, anyone who’d plundered before had nailed the planks back up, and judging by the rust that would have been before his time. Carefully, Mattias took out his hammer, pulled the nails, lit his lamp, and entered the mine.

A few minutes in, and he had already half filled his first bag with a mix of parts, metallic scrap, and the ever-useful bits of powerstone. There were heaps of everything he was looking for, meaning Mattias only had to take the best for the time being – no one had sold the scrap back then, and no one but Mattias was crazy enough to go looking for it!

It was about then, as he was examining some large stone fragments, that he heard a small, female voice.

“Help me.” She said weakly, “Help me please.”

“Where are you?” Mattias called. Part of him feared encountering another human in the mine meant a claim was staked, but much stronger was his impulse to aid anyone who had somehow gotten trapped in the darkness.

“I can see your light on the wall.” She replied, “I… I must be on the other side of a pillar from you.”

Mattias looked around the room, and indeed there were several large pillars in about the direction the voice was most coming from. Mattias walked towards then.

“I think I’m headed towards you.” He said, “Keep talking, so I can follow your voice.”

“All right.” The woman said. Definitely ahead of him. “Is there anything particular you’d like me to talk about?”

Was that a hint of humor Mattias detected? A good sign, he thought, from someone who could not or dared not move on her own.

“How about you tell me about yourself?” Mattias asked.

“I’ll try.” She said, “But I don’t know how much I’ll be able to tell you.”

“Well,” Mattias said, “Everybody’s got secrets, I don’t mind if you don’t tell me yours.”

“I don’t mean that.” She said, “I’m broken. I… have trouble remembering, for now.”

Poor girl, Mattias thought, she must have hit her head.

“Well,” Mattias asked, “How long have you been down here.”

“A long time.” She replied.

“A week?” Mattias asked.

“Much longer than that, I fear.” She answered.

Mattias couldn’t imagine it. If you put him in the darkness for a week, with nothing to eat or drink, he’d have gone mad even if he was still alive.

“It’s okay.” He said, “We’re going to get you out of here, and back to civilization.”

“I would like that very much.” She said, “But I fear I may not be presentable.”

Her voice was very close – the other side of the pillar Mattias had reached. Slowly, he stepped around it, and what he saw amazed him

This woman – the one he had been speaking to – she was a machine!

If not for the open panel on her thigh, though, she might have fooled someone at a glance. Her hair, long and wavy, was spun gold thread that hung like the real thing, and her silvery skin, though obviously some silvery metal primarily, was brushed with copper to give it an almost lifelike tone. And her eyes! The metal woman’s eyes were so like the real thing – bright, green eyes full of life – that Mattias could not even guess what combination of glass, gemstone, and sorcery had been used to create them. She was a work of art, no doubt. Whatever artificer had created her was a master beyond compare

“Do I frighten you, stranger?” she asked. Her mouth didn’t move, though her eyes followed Mattias.

“No, ah… I’m sorry.” He said, “I’m well… I’m something of an artificer and-“

“An artificer?” she asked, “Oh, excellent! I would not trust someone without skill to effect the repairs I need! I mean… you will help repair me, won’t you?”

At this, Mattias sighed worriedly. “I will if I can,” he said, glancing at the open panel again. Even the intact artifice of the Old Kingdom, the irreplaceable engines dragged out of the ground millennia after ruination buried them beneath earth and roots, were clunky next to the construction he saw in even that barest glimpse inside her. Though her parts were wire and string, they looked almost more like muscles than motors. “But… I’ve never seen anything like you.”

“I… can instruct you.” The metal woman said, “I can still access my memories of the basic facts of my construction, and will be able to call up more once my major systems are repaired.”

“All right, then,” Mattias said, “what am I going to need?”

“Better tools and better light.” She replied. “You are an artificer? Perhaps you could bring me to you workshop.”

Mattias suppressed the urge to laugh. The first time a girl asked to go home with him, and it had to be like that?

“I don’t know.” He said, “I can’t get my cart down here.”

“According to basic specifications,” she said, “I weigh eighty-seven pounds. That is within the range a human can carry?”

That light? He could carry her pretty easily but it made him wonder even more at her construction.

“Okay.” Mattias said, “We’ll get you out of here, then. I’m Mattias, by the way. What’s your name?”

She thought for a moment

“Not in the system specifications,” she said sadly, “Perhaps you could call me something simple until I can remember?”

“We’ll figure something out.” Mattias said. He knelt down, placing one hand behind her back and another beneath her knees to lift her. Even knowing her weight, she was surprisingly light. “So, how’d you end up here.”

“It was about a hundred years ago.” She said, “I… began breaking down, and I can’t remember why. I came here because I was weak, and it was both isolated and had most of the parts I’d need to effect repairs. But as I was working on my legs, my hands seized up, and with my legs disabled for the repairs, I couldn’t move to find someone to help me.”

“I’m sorry you had to wait so long.” Mattias said.

“It is fine.” She replied, “I… I think the reason I am not able to recall personal details is because I suppressed them to endure the long dark.”

“Well,” Mattias said, “Soon enough, we’ll get you up and working, and then we can figure out just who you are.”

***

Three days after finding Metal (as they agreed she should be called), and she already had about the functionality one would expect from a human: She could walk about on her own, and use her hands, and Mattias suspected she only asked for his help with further service to humor his desire to be useful.

Her face was one of the earliest things restored after motor function. In its full glory, it was as expressive as the real thing. Her voice, which had been slightly stilted with her mouth disabled, was now formed and enunciated like a real human and had a live, musical quality rather than the tinny one of most speaking artifacts.

Her mind was very realistic too. Conversing with Metal, it was easy to forget that someone must have made her somewhere along the line, designed her such as she was, and there was a part of Mattias that wondered just how important that actually was. Even if they’d been programmed into her, she had thoughts and emotions. Even if they were artificial in the end, she still felt them as keenly as any living person would. She was kind and fearless, but also had her head in the clouds and seemed prone to miss small details, even ones that were staring her in the face. She wasn’t made for cold efficiency, she was made to be a person, and part of Mattias was sure she was.

Another part of him was horrified at the thought he might be falling in love with a construct – a gorgeous, charming, erudite construct, but a construct all the same. Even for a tinkerer, a profession that most regarded as prone to strangeness, that was out of line.

Well, he agreed with himself, all he had to do was not fall for her and he’d be fine. Maybe talking with her would even give him a clue how to talk to real women.

But, between everything, it wasn’t totally surprising when Mattias woke up to find Metal working at the stove. Not cooking, of course, tinkering: she had it half taken apart and was frowning at a collection of powerstone fragments.

“Oh,” she said, “You slept a long time.”

Mattias scratched his head, “Yeah, well I was up late. What’s the project.”

“I noticed your stove burned wood to cook your food.” She said, “Very inefficient. A simple red mana enchantment should get you a more even and potentially hotter flame, with no fuel required.”

“Red mana…” Mattias muttered, “You can do magic? Not just artifice, but real magic? Since when?”

“I started examining some memories last night.” She said, “There’s… a lot of memory and a lot of kinds of memory. I started with the bits relating to magic. It seemed safe enough, assuming I take it slowly.”

“Why not the other stuff… the personal stuff?” Mattias asked

Metal looked away,

“Metal?” Mattias asked, “Is something wrong.”

“It is… foolish.” She said

“What is?”

“I… part of me does not want to access those memories again. They frighten me. What if I was a bad person? Would I become that person again? And even if I don’t, the memories stretch a very long way back. It might be overwhelming to experience all of that.”

“Well,” Mattias said, “You never know until you try.”

“I am aware.” Metal said, “That is why I have isolated memories related somehow to parts of my structure. When I work on repairing and optimizing those systems, I will regain the memories associated with them to understand why… and more of who I was.”

“So I guess we’ll be calling you Metal for a while longer, huh.”

“I am fine with that.” Metal said, “It describes me, even if it is not very poetic.”

A construct with the soul of a poet. In a professional sense, Mattias didn’t want to believe it was possible. More importantly, though, he realized, was the fact that she was a construct who could cast spells – he’d been thinking about her too much as a person, but now it struck him that this was an amazing opportunity, if he could swallow his pride enough to take it.

On one hand, if Metal could use magic, she could presumably teach someone else. On the other hand, he’d be learning from a machine – a tool that somebody built. It wasn’t natural, unless…

It occurred to Mattias that it might be the point of her. So human-like, so gregarious, and so willing to let him in to some of the details of her workings, patiently explaining the task at hand and the steps he had to take. She could very well have been built to be a teacher, and if she was then there was no shame in learning from her.

“You know,” Mattias said, “If tinkering with my stove and putting yourself back together doesn’t take all your time, maybe you could teach me some of that magic.”

Metal inclined her head, “I would be happy to, Mattias.”

Well, he thought, that went well.

***

Mattias sat at a shady, corner table in the tavern. As enjoyable as his time with Metal – either working on her now nearly complete repairs or learning magic from her was, he needed a break. Or, at least, he needed mostly a break – he still fiddled with the magic, threads of azure energy from his hands moving and restructuring the gears of the small, clockwork toy he had brought with him to practice on.

He stopped when someone sat down across from him, and looked up from both his drink. It was Jakey, a low-life most people called ‘the Rat’, but who Mattias generally thought of as a friend. They’d been close enough as kids, and old habits died hard.

“Neat trick.” Jakey said, gesturing at the little automaton, “You must have gotten your hands on a lot of shards before the boss lady shut you down, huh?”

It took Mattias a moment to realize that his companion had seen the magic, and thought it came from the same source as every previous display, and a longer moment to figure out how to reply. It wasn’t a sin or a crime to know proper magic, but it would provoke more questions as to how he’d learned, and if Jakey the Rat knew something, soon enough everyone from the High Boughs to the Outer Rim would know.

“Yeah,” Mattais said, “At least, a few good ones.”

“Anyway,” Jakey said, “I’ve got a business proposition for you.”

“What’s that?” Mattias asked wearily.

“So, this woman comes into town today – pretty little thing, but you know, probably don’t say that to her face, she seemed kind of weird and intense. Anyway, she starts asking after some kind of metal woman, like a construct girl. It seems real stupid until she up and offers a practical mountain of gold to whoever gets her this thing so, what the ****, why not? She’s probably working for some rich freak, anyway… anyway, yeah, I was figuring you could build one. Scrap-diving doesn’t get you the best materials but, old buddy, I’ve got good sources on that. Anything you need, I could get it, and we’ll split the reward, fifty-fifty… what do you say?”

Mattias thought about it – not about accepting or refusing the offer, but how it seemed too much to be coincidence that this would happen so quickly after he pulled Metal out of that mind. Mattias hadn’t told a soul about her… but at the same time, he hadn’t exactly been totally clandestine about things like the windows of his house. Perhaps he would have to start.

“I don’t know, Jakey,” Mattias said, “I’d hate to do all the work of planning out something like that and putting it together if it might all come to nothing.”

“Come on!” Jakey whined, “If you’d have seen the offer you’d be building already, and don’t tell me you haven’t ever thought about building a girl construct before.”

“No,” Mattias said, “I haven’t. But I’ll tell you what – you talk to this woman and if she’s not looking for a specific metal woman or anything like that, you tell her we’re willing to get on the job and build to her specifications. That way we’ll have a contract, and we’ll be sure we don’t lose out.”

“Oooh!” Jakey whistled, “I get it now. Sorry, pal, I underestimated you. That’s smart but… uh… what do you mean specific?”

Mattias shrugged in an attempt to be nonchalant. “Maybe something Old Kingdom? I don’t know, and that’s the point.”

“Whatever you say, chief.” Jakey replied, “I’ll talk to the lady and see what she wants… maybe after we each have another drink, eh?”

“Actually.” Mattias said, standing up, “I think I’m going to head home and… take stock of what I’ve got. See you around.”

Mattias quickly paid his tab and left the tavern. He did not want to seem too hurried as he walked through the streets or unlocked his door, but there was a part of him that was frantic when he stepped inside.

Metal looked up at him and smiled.

“Ah,” she said happily, “You’re home.”

Then, her mood darkened somewhat.

“Are you unwell?” she asked.

“No,” Mattias said, “I just heard some strange news.”

“Well,” Metal said, “I’d like to know what it was.”

“A friend of mine,” Mattias said, “Says there’s a lady in town looking for a mechanical woman. I think she might be looking for you.”

“I see.” Metal said, “This troubles you?

“Well,” Mattias said, “After you’ve been down in that mine for a hundred years, I can’t think of any friendly reason someone would just now start asking after you. Can you?”

“No.” Metal admitted, “But I still have hardly scratched the surface of my memories. After all, I still don’t even know my own name. If someone knows of me, perhaps a hundred years is not a long time for them.”

“I’d hope so,” Mattias said, “But I’d rather not take chances.”

“I understand.” Metal said, “I suppose not all people can be expected to be as kind as yourself.”

Mattias shrank back a bit, unable to feel comfortable accepting the complement.

“In any case,” Metal said, seeming to sense his unease, “should we continue with your magic lessons?”

“Yeah,” Mattias replied, “I’d like that.”

***

The next evening, there was a loud knock on Mattias’ door as he was practicing the charms he had been taught.

“Stay out of sight.” He said, “Please.” Metal nodded, and retreated into the back room as Mattias went to the door.

There person at it was a stranger, a youngish woman with long, straight brown hair, pale skin, and icy blue eyes. If this was the woman Jakey had been talking to, though, he had exaggerated. She might have been pretty enough, but there was just something off about her. Maybe it was just the shadows.

“May I help you?” Mattias asked.

“We are looking for Mattias, an artificer I was told lived here. Are you he?”

Mattias craned his neck to look over the woman’s shoulder. There was no one else there to amount to ‘we’.

“Depends.” He said, “Who’s asking.”

“My name is Sorinne.” She replied.

“Sorinne, well, I am Mattias and I am an artificer, so perhaps you could tell me what you were looking for?”

“A woman made of metal,” she replied, “And yes, a very particular one, who we have reason to believe you have met.”

There was that ‘we’ again. She enunciated it very strangely, as though she wanted him to hear just how out of place it was. Vaguely, he remembered something about Old Kingdom royalty from a play… but that didn’t make any more sense than the thought she had some imaginary friend.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Mattias said, “Jakey wanted me to make you a construct girl, said you’d pay pretty good.

“We… offer a great reward if you would render us the woman we seek. We aren’t interested in any new creations. I hope you understand.”

Everything about Sorinne made Mattias feel strange and uncomfortable. Whether it was that eerie something in her countenance, the way she slipped between referring to her self as ‘I’ or ‘we’, or just some small tic in how she spoke and carried herself that hadn’t registered past the subconscious, he couldn’t help but feel that she was up to no good.

“Sorry,” he lied, “I haven’t seen anything like that.”

“Would you mind if we came in, then?” she asked, “I don’t want to impose on your hospitality, but…”

“The place is a total mess.” Mattias said, “You’re not really going to be able to put your feet up even.”

She frowned in a way that made Mattias think she had only been asking to be polite.

“If you’d like to rest a bit, I’ll buy you a drink down at the tavern. It’s not far.”

“I’m sorry, Mattias,” Sorinne said, “But we really must come in.”

Mattias thought about it. Clearly, she had some inkling Metal was inside, so if he let her in he wasn’t going to be able to keep her out of the back room.

“The answer is no.” he said, “If you want to do business, we can do business. If you don’t, I’m not letting you into my house.”

“I’m sorry.” She said again “I am really very, very sorry.”

“For what?” Mattias asked

“This.” She replied.

A wave of force struck Mattias and forced him backwards, tumbling over his workbench as the contents of his living room were tossed about or hurled against the far wall. Calmly, Sorinne stepped in. Mattias tried to stand, but found himself disoriented. That was when Metal emerged from the back room.

“There you are.” Sorinne said. Crimson energy crackled over her hands, and then a bolt of lightning arced to Metal. Metal grunted in what sounded like pain, but as the afterglow of the blast left Mattias’ vision, she didn’t seem to have been damaged.

“Who are you?!” Metal demanded, “Why are you attacking us?”

“We-“ Sorinne began, but then for a moment she doubled over and clutched her chest.

“You get no answer.” She said, “I’m afraid you need to die.”

“I will not submit.” Metal replied, “I hope you are prepared for battle.”

“Battle, good.” Sorinne growled. She hurled darts of fire and quick bursts of lightning, but Metal was ready for the assault. Some of the attacks froze in midair, lightning hanging still mid strike, globes of fire guttering and failing in place, while others dissolved into azure light. Several struck Metal, but it seemed that neither heat nor electric shock did much to harm her, at least at the intensity Sorinne could conjure.

All the same, as Mattias recovered from his daze, he realized that Metal was not winning the interchange – she was fighting entirely defensively, and her counters were intercepting less and less of Sorinne’s magic.

“Metal, run!” Mattias shouted, “Just get away!”

“Planeswalk and the whelp dies!” Sorinne growled, ceasing her barrage for a moment “And do not think we will not find you wherever you hide.”

“Planeswalk?” Metal exclaimed. “Planeswalk…” For a second, Metal froze, her eyes snapping to some distant vista, and Sorinne began to cast another spell. Mattias recognized it – he may not have been studying red magic, but Metal had taught him enough of the basics – it was a ‘Shatter’ spell, or something else like it, intended to break an artifact into a million useless pieces.

The casting was only a split second, but before Mattias had even put together what the attack was, he was already moving with a spell of his own. He felt the essence of the deep waters, the distant islands flow through him, and as the rumble of Sorinne’s magic crossed the room, his own lashed out, and the spell became a momentary puddle of some mana-remnant, evaporating before it fell to the floor.

Sorinne looked at Mattias, her face expressing… horror? Grief? It was not what Mattias had expected to see. At the same time, Metal snapped back to reality.

“So,” Metal said, confident and mixing anger with humor, “It seems I am a Planeswalker… Thank you for the information.”

Sorinne just remained fixed on Mattias.

“You shouldn’t have done that.” She said.

A wave of black magic surged out from her, though Mattias was not able to see it coming. He held out his hands, trying to ready another counter, but he had nothing left! He had hardly caught his breath, much less prepared himself for a magician’s duel. Metal reached out too, but too slow – the magic struck him, and his vision darkened, his world filled with nightmares and the pestilent stench of rot.

Then, it all vanished. Mattias was in a space that was like nothing he had ever experienced. He could not see, nor could he hear, nor even feel, but there were senses analogous to them, that told him that the space was screaming without sound, that there was darkness there and also substance to perceive though it had neither light nor matter.

Was this death?

No… it was something else. He looked around with his not-sight and saw the points of ‘light’ in the void. He felt like he could reach out and touch them – no, enter them.

Those were worlds!

On one of them, he realzed, Metal and Sorinne were probably still fighting, but which one? He couldn’t discern where he’d come from, and while there was a since of near or far what was to say he had not been thrown far in the first place. He had to figure it out!

Or did he?

Sorinne had threatened his life to coerce Metal into staying in the fight. As long as he wasn’t there, she could escape, and whatever had happened to him, he still wasn’t ready to be of much use against Sorinne. Metal’s best chance, he realized, was if he stayed away.

There were enough worlds, he thought, that any one wasn’t likely to send him back into the fight. He reached out to one of them, and dropped in.

Metal watched in horror as the shadows swallowed Mattias, and he vanished from her sight. The woman seemed to have only passing fascination at the scene.

“Strange.” She said, “I… I think he didn’t die.” She sounded relieved, but this did not matter to Metal

The woman turned back to Metal. “That won’t save you, though.”

Metal processed the matter. If Mattias was dead, she had no more incentive to do anything other than flee this fight – without the rest of her memories of magic and her own functionality, she couldn’t expect to win. If he was alive, he was elsewhere, and she should endeavor to find him.

Either way, remaining in combat was not optimal.

Metal countered another bolt of red magic, and then threw her own lightning blast. The woman ducked, falling to the floor, and that was all the chance that Metal needed. Mana flowed through her, and she entered the Blind Eternities.

Metal’s mind was quick. It had been getting quicker as she repaired herself, though the rate of improvement had slowed significantly. Still, though, it was enough different now than within recent memory to be noticeable. She processed the worlds she saw, and before she even knew what she was doing she jumped to one, then another, then another. After fifteen jumps, she re-oriented herself in the Blind Eternities.

That term, like many others, had come along with her sudden understanding of the word ‘Planeswalker’. Yes, that was what she was. She was a planeswalker, she traveled through the Blind Eternities. Her travel left an Æther Trail. The Æther Trail could be traced, hence why she had made the long sequence of jumps. Conscious realization of these facts came only after action.

She landed on another plane, one that was right before her at the end of the twisted sequence of Planeswalks. Some part of her seemed to remember it, seemed to know that it was a good place. How many memories had been half-unlocked by that one fact? What was ‘planeswalker’ the key to?

It was mid day where Metal arrived. Though it had been late evening, and though her sequence of planeswalks had taken some time, Metal did not tire. As far as she knew, she neither required nor longed for sleep, perhaps was not even capable of it. This was good, for if she ever dreamed she would have thought herself dreaming to behold the sight before her.

Metal was in a small town, except everyone in it was mechanical. She could hear the faint ticking of clockwork, could see the metal sheen of their parts, and could understand why her mind had guided her to this place. Metal knew she was something different, but of all the planes, this was one she could hide in.

It seemed not to many had seen her appearance, or if they had they did not wonder at it. Quickly and quietly, Metal was able to speak to those people, who took her to be one of their own ‘Aridon’ despite some significant differences between herself and what she saw in them. They were a kind sort, at least those she had encountered, and assuming her to have been the victim of some foul play, gave her clothes after their own style (one she guessed was borrowed from humans for they had even less anatomy than the image of the same that Metal’s form presented) and lent her a place to ‘rest’ and the tools she required.

Alone and feeling safe, Metal took an inventory of her systems. Looking inward, she felt that a great deal of her magic was still out of reach, the memories locked away behind the barriers she had put in place during her long isolation.

Part of her wanted to unlock all of them, right away. That woman, the one who had tried to kill her and Mattias, presented a real threat and Metal would need her magical power, which meant, more or less, her memories.

At the same time, it was a frightening prospect. The longer she had waited to regain her old self, the more she had come to think of herself as Metal, as a person aside from the few glimpses of a long history that improving her systems had given her. If she simply released it all, that torrent of memories into her mind, would Metal die to be replaced by the woman who once was, who had a name?

If she took it slowly, she felt, she would retain continuity. Whether the person she was was the same as Metal now or different, she could reconcile them, and avoid any risk of part of her dying at the hands of another.

For now, it would do.

Magic remained partially hidden. Whatever part made her a planeswalker, Metal could not even recognize. The primary functions of her body were on-line… except, she realized, for one. She had flight systems! Now, that was something to work towards, that would reward the intertwining of capabilities with memory. It would be good to recall how to fly, and what it felt like, at the same time she recovered the ability.

With that in mind, Metal set to work. Schematics came bidden to her conciousness, and she began to inspect and repair. Her clever joints allowed her hands to reach any point on her body for maintenance, so even the largest parts, mana-driven jets hidden when not in use as the swell of human shoulder-blades, were not difficult to operate on.

As she tinkered, she braced herself. Her body knew her better than she did, and when it decided she had largely finished, that was when she would remember. She finished the small adjustments of crystals in the thrusters, and opened them up, letting free a small amount of blazing exhaust that made her realize why she had built herself so resilient to heat. Yes, that was good. Stabilizing elements existed on her feet, ankles, wrists, and palms. They would allow her good maneuverability at speed, and the ability to hover in nearly any position. Still, as she applied the finishing touches, she felt that compared to the wings of an ornithopter, she seemed somewhat overengineered…

This memory was different, the sensation dull to nonexistent but action, sight, continuity… Metal saw the world through the eyes of someone small. A child? She felt pain, somewhere. She looked up, and saw a pair of humans with pure-white wings looking down on her, their faces full of concern, sadness. She looked around herself – there were masses of feathers in her hands, broken quills of dappled grey. There was also blood, and far too much of it. The floor was strewn with violent molt and crimson stains. A pair of scissors lay near Metal/The Girl’s feet, amidst one of the thicker piles of feather bits, bloodstained as well

“What have you done?” the male demanded, “What have you done?!” The female adult broke from her stunned shock, and rushed towards The Girl/Metal and embraced her before pulling on a… limb. A wing.

“Oh, you poor dear!” the white-winged woman exclaimed, “Just look at yourself!”

She faced The Girl/Metal towards a large mirror. She saw a girl, human but for the wings of dull grey dappled with darker spots. The wings were ragged, bleeding from broken feathers, or where others had been ripped out haphazardly. The girl’s bright green eyes were blood-shot, her blonde hair was a tangled mess, and her pale face was streaked with tears. Pain? Rage? Metal felt both.

“Honey, your wings…”

“I hate them!” The girl cried, “I hate them! I wish I never had them like this!”

“Honey,” the woman said, “You know that’s not true. You love to fly, always have… you’ll be on the ground for a month, don’t you see that?”

“I’d walk on the ground forever if I didn’t have to have these!” the girl cried, “You don’t understand! You have white wings, like everybody else. The other kids – they say I’m evil, that there’s something wrong with me and they’re right! They throw sticks and rocks and you know the things they call me! If I didn’t have these awful spotty wings they’d just call me a groundling, and I could be like all the other groundlings!”

The adult woman embraced the child.

“It will pass,” she said, “I promise, darling. I love you just the way you are, and when you’re older you’ll see that the world feels just the same.”

The girl sniffled, and seemed to accept her mother’s love at least. But still she felt pain in her heart, and fear crept in as well. “Then why don’t I see any adults that don’t have white wings?”

Metal returned to reality, to the present, trembling from the emotions that had played through her and more.

Whose memory was that? Was it her creator? Was that why Metal had been made to fly without wings?

It had to be, Metal told herself. Her maker must have given her that understanding, the knowledge of why she had done what she had done in such a way. There… there could not be any other explanation. She did not know why she had been given a memory, rather than just an explanation, but as with the flight system itself, there had to be a reason.

For the next few days after that, though, Metal took her reactivation very slowly. She reconnected with old mana-bonds, and laid the finishing touches on her physical body. The memories that came with those bits were never so intense – brief vistas of far off planes, glimpses of her making additions to her body or, rarely, why. When she discovered the blade concealed at the back of her left wrist, she saw herself in combat, pinned by some monster, and forced to flee by planeswalk for all she could do with her arms was flail uselessly. Yet somehow that moment of fear that had forced her to add a weapon to her design, at the risk of marring the form her creator had given her, was not so fierce or horrifying as the girl with the dappled-grey wings.

On Metal’s fifth day among the Aridon, there passed among them a rumor. A woman had appeared in one of the nearby cities of the humans and had started asking about a metal woman, only to find herself presented with half a dozen Aridon the humans had waylaid and hauled before her. Each one, the woman had rejected in frustration. One of the Aridon of this village had been there, had seen what the woman did next.

“It was strange.” The Aridon related, “She seemed to change moods very quickly. And she said ‘No matter, she can hide here all she wants. She hid one of the pieces, too, and that will be easier to find.’ Then the woman set out for the mountains of the west, enlisting a trio of the Devotees to guide her.”

There was no doubt in Metal’s mind that this was the same woman who had hunted her before, up to the same tricks she had tried on Mattias’ world, only to find that here Metal did not look unique.

On one hand, it offered a reprieve.

On the other hand, it seemed the woman Metal had been had tried to keep something from this other woman. When the strange woman was willing to murder, it occurred to Metal that whatever ‘piece’ she wanted she ought to not get.

Metal looked down at herself. She was stronger now, and if she went after the woman she would have a better chance of success than the first time they had clashed.

If Metal waited longer, she would only become stronger. The word Planeswalker sang in her mind, faint glimmers of terrible power. Yes, the woman needed to be stopped. But yes, she was likely very mighty. Metal could expedite the recovery of her memories, but only to an extent without risking that nagging death by transformation into another person.

So to chase after the woman as she was, or to wait until she could do so at full strength? It was a terrible decision, but it was one she had to make.

Something hidden on this plane… Metal couldn’t remember that in specific without more, but it felt important, a grave weight lingering over the very mention of it. She crouched, jumped, and shot into the sky.

The world unfolded below Metal, and she felt a thrill deep inside. She could stay in the air forever and be content, though her purpose pushed her onward to the west. The landscape was painted by the fading sun in vivid violet, crimson, gold. Down on the ground, the sky alone had such beauty but above it was all around her. She was free, and at home in that element.

As the night wore on. Metal focused again at the task at hand. She was fast – far faster than anyone on foot could be, but her foe was small and distant below, and Metal did not know exactly where to pick up the trail. All the same, when she could be mistaken for an Aridon, it was decently safe to speak to ordinary folk, so if she happened to spot the fires or selves of any travelers she might descend and ask for a hint of her foe’s direction.

Soon enough, she spotted one, beside the road towards the mountains of the west. She descended from the sky, hoping her appearance would not frighten anyone she encountered, and discovered to her slight surprise that her quarry was there, amidst some three rough-looking people in drab clothes.

That woman looked up at Metal as Metal landed. In her eyes, there was a strange sorrow.

“You should have stayed hiding.” She said

“I want answers!” Metal demanded, “I don’t even know your name, much less why you want to kill me.”

“My name is Sorinne.” She said, “As for why we fight you… the Ythol Annulus. You kept it from one of us before, and now that one would be sure you will not again oppose us.”

“I don’t even know what that is!” Metal shouted, “All I know, which I know thanks to you, is that you would murder those who have done you no wrong. For that reason alone I would oppose you.”

For a long moment, Sorinne seemed to think. Her body shuddered a time or two, and Metal realized that now would be a good time to strike… bodies of flesh and bone were so very fragile, they could be broken easily…

But it wasn’t in Metal to strike. In her short time in the light Sorinne had wronged her gravely, but still she could not bring herself to do it, and again the doubt crept into her mind, wondering what kind of woman she had been before. She might not have been better than Sorinne before, but she resolved that she was going to be now.

“I believe you.” Sorinne said, “And we offer you this: Swear a binding oath to not interfere in our doings, and we will permit you to continue to exist, or else you will die.”

“First,” Metal said, “I want to know what this… Ythol Annulus is.”

“The Annulus…” Sorinne began, but then she stopped, staggered, and gritted her teeth.

“Do not seek it.” Sorinne said, “I’m begging you, accept our offer. I don’t want to kill you.”

“You didn’t do a very good job last time.” Metal said disdainfully, “What makes you think you can manage now?”

“We’ve thought on that.” Sorinne said, “Your body seems impervious to heat and electricity. Red magic was always my specialty, though, and it can be adapted. Trust me that if we fight, it will go very differently.”

Metal closed her eyes.

“Let me consider.” She said.

Ythol Annulus… If Metal could remember it, she could determine how important this fight might be. If she could just remember anything, she could know how to proceed!

This strange woman, Sorinne, spoke with great sincerity when she spoke of herself. When she spoke of ‘we’, her voice was different. It was a mystery that, like the Ythol Annulus, Metal did not have the time to entirely unravel. All the same, she needed something, anything! Even the barest glimpse of memory…

“We have given you as much time as we will.” Sorinne said, “We need your answer.”

“We do not have much time.” A strange woman said. “Or the fate of Ythol will be shared by all. The Annulus must be stopped.”

Metal snapped back to the present.

“I’m afraid I must refuse.” She said. Quickly, she leapt back, firing her jets to put some space between her and Sorinne. Before Metal recovered her bearings, the first spell hit her. That was alright, she’d yet to be damaged by…

She felt her knee seize up. She looked – ice?!

Sure enough, it was a wave of cold that had struck her. Metal felt she could survive such an attack, but if she couldn’t move…

She focused on Sorinne, ready to counter as she reached a hand to the afflicted joint. The red mana jets for her flight stabilizers burned hot, she could restore function to her leg if she had the time.

Sorinne’s body convulsed, and as she pulled upon a swell of mana it seemed for all the world that she might have been in the throes of a seizure. Metal looked at the threads of her casting and carefully swept her own through to disrupt them with the barest touch of blue mana.

One thing Metal had learned in the intervening days had been how to be more efficient with her counters. The older magic, unlocked by plumbing the depths of her mind was stronger.

But now each of Sorinne’s attacks was dangerous. She couldn’t afford to miss one.

With her free hand and a swirl of magic, Metal intercepted the next blast of cold and sent it rebounding upon its caster. Sorinne moved quickly, but not quickly enough, and it struck her right side. As she fell, Metal stood tall, her knee thawed and moving again.

Slowly, Metal approached her foe. Sorinne lay still on the ground, her shirt torn and her side dusted with rime. Was she dead? She certainly seemed to be. The other humans were cowering in fear, and gave Metal plenty of space. She knelt down beside Sorinne and reached out.

That was when Sorinne struck. She moved with unnatural rapidity, and though her spell was small it came too quickly and the bitter cold washed over her face. Metal turned to the side, and her right took the brunt of the spell.

Pain! Even when Metal’s leg had been hit, it felt nothing like this! Her world collapsed, and she screamed with a force she didn’t know she could. Her vision blurred, went dark, and she felt that she was somehow going to lose consciousness.

She felt like she was going to die.

Instinct took over , and her scream was swallowed by the Blind Eternities. The world reappeared, hazy and indistinct though she felt she was somewhere wild, perhaps amidst ruins. Still she felt agony and she clutched her right eye desperately.

Slowly, the pain subsided from the sharp shock to an agonizing ache that still threatened to consume her, and rational thought returned to Metal. Her vision was flat, unclear. Her eyes were swimming with tears.

No, her eye was. Her left eye saw the world through a watery haze, but her right eye, the one that had been struck, the one the pain was coming from, couldn’t see at all.

It was fine, Metal tried to tell herself, it would pass, she could repair it. Her history was so long, surely any part of her had been broken before. But, somehow, she couldn’t believe it. The eye felt different, like it was somehow more a part of her than any she had worked on.

What was special about her eyes?

“All right.” Sorinne said, “I’ll help you.”

“You’ve made a wise choice.” The voice replied. “Now hold still.”

Hold still? Sorinne wondered at that request, but froze all the same. A wisp of shadow, or so it seemed, darted down from the heights above the statue and struck her in the abdomen. At once, Sorinne screamed in pain. She felt something moving – no, clawing through her, and saw blood begin to stain her torn clothes as the last hints of something unnatural slithered into the wound.

“Now,” the voice said again, this time very clearly speaking in her mind, “The first spell I’m going to teach you is a touch of healing magic, and it’s imperative you be a quick learner.”

Images followed, sensations of magic, memories of other places, places Sorinne had never been. Clumsily, she tried to mimic them, and after a few horrifying moments, watched as the flow of blood stopped, and her flesh and skin knitted themselves together.

“There,” the voice said, “Isn’t that all better?”

The thing, whatever it was, felt like it was wrapped around her spine, no longer clawing, but slithering, unpleasant but not exactly painful as it moved upwards, laying from between her shoulderblades to about the small of her back

“I didn’t…”

“Didn’t expect that?” the voice asked, “Few do. You’re fortunate I gave you the choice of aiding me willingly and living. I have rarely been so generous when reduced to this state.”

The coiling thing squeezed a little, making its hold on her clear.

“And I can choose to be ungenerous if you want to defy me, so I suggest you not refuse my requests. Now, we have some places to go…”

Part 1

Mattias the Tinkerer drove his cart up to the face of the ruins. The dusty old place had been an engine mine, but over a hundred years ago it was declared dry, boarded up, and left abandoned: there was nothing left in the ruins below to salvage, they said

But, it was Mattias’ personal and professional opinion that the miners always missed something. They only cared about the intact powerstones and working drives, not about the shards, spare parts, and broken-but salvageable pieces that could be extracted. Until last week, they hadn’t cared when Mattias had come in, spent a few hours picking up their scrap, and hauled off a cart load. Some of the men even said he was doing them a service as a garbage man.

That all changed when the new foreman came in. The first time Mattias showed up to pick his damaged parts and powerstone fragments, she’d watched him for about half an hour, then took his haul, drove him off, and promptly put men to work gathering, sorting, and selling what Mattias had once gotten for his labor alone.

Well, Mattias thought, he’d show that miserable harpy yet. It was possible that tinkerers had picked the old mine clean long ago, but it was also more than possible that everything the operation itself didn’t want was still there.

The entrance was still boarded up, which was good. At the very least, anyone who’d plundered before had nailed the planks back up, and judging by the rust that would have been before his time. Carefully, Mattias took out his hammer, pulled the nails, lit his lamp, and entered the mine.

A few minutes in, and he had already half filled his first bag with a mix of parts, metallic scrap, and the ever-useful bits of powerstone. There were heaps of everything he was looking for, meaning Mattias only had to take the best for the time being – no one had sold the scrap back then, and no one but Mattias was crazy enough to go looking for it!

It was about then, as he was examining some large stone fragments, that he heard a small, female voice.

“Help me.” She said weakly, “Help me please.”

“Where are you?” Mattias called. Part of him feared encountering another human in the mine meant a claim was staked, but much stronger was his impulse to aid anyone who had somehow gotten trapped in the darkness.

“I can see your light on the wall.” She replied, “I… I must be on the other side of a pillar from you.”

Mattias looked around the room, and indeed there were several large pillars in about the direction the voice was most coming from. Mattias walked towards then.

“I think I’m headed towards you.” He said, “Keep talking, so I can follow your voice.”

“All right.” The woman said. Definitely ahead of him. “Is there anything particular you’d like me to talk about?”

Was that a hint of humor Mattias detected? A good sign, he thought, from someone who could not or dared not move on her own.

“How about you tell me about yourself?” Mattias asked.

“I’ll try.” She said, “But I don’t know how much I’ll be able to tell you.”

“Well,” Mattias said, “Everybody’s got secrets, I don’t mind if you don’t tell me yours.”

“I don’t mean that.” She said, “I’m broken. I… have trouble remembering, for now.”

Poor girl, Mattias thought, she must have hit her head.

“Well,” Mattias asked, “How long have you been down here.”

“A long time.” She replied.

“A week?” Mattias asked.

“Much longer than that, I fear.” She answered.

Mattias couldn’t imagine it. If you put him in the darkness for a week, with nothing to eat or drink, he’d have gone mad even if he was still alive.

“It’s okay.” He said, “We’re going to get you out of here, and back to civilization.”

“I would like that very much.” She said, “But I fear I may not be presentable.”

Her voice was very close – the other side of the pillar Mattias had reached. Slowly, he stepped around it, and what he saw amazed him

This woman – the one he had been speaking to – she was a machine!

If not for the open panel on her thigh, though, she might have fooled someone at a glance. Her hair, long and wavy, was spun gold thread that hung like the real thing, and her silvery skin, though obviously some silvery metal primarily, was brushed with copper to give it an almost lifelike tone. And her eyes! The metal woman’s eyes were so like the real thing – bright, green eyes full of life – that Mattias could not even guess what combination of glass, gemstone, and sorcery had been used to create them. She was a work of art, no doubt. Whatever artificer had created her was a master beyond compare

“Do I frighten you, stranger?” she asked. Her mouth didn’t move, though her eyes followed Mattias.

“No, ah… I’m sorry.” He said, “I’m well… I’m something of an artificer and-“

“An artificer?” she asked, “Oh, excellent! I would not trust someone without skill to effect the repairs I need! I mean… you will help repair me, won’t you?”

At this, Mattias sighed worriedly. “I will if I can,” he said, glancing at the open panel again. Even the intact artifice of the Old Kingdom, the irreplaceable engines dragged out of the ground millennia after ruination buried them beneath earth and roots, were clunky next to the construction he saw in even that barest glimpse inside her. Though her parts were wire and string, they looked almost more like muscles than motors. “But… I’ve never seen anything like you.”

“I… can instruct you.” The metal woman said, “I can still access my memories of the basic facts of my construction, and will be able to call up more once my major systems are repaired.”

“All right, then,” Mattias said, “what am I going to need?”

“Better tools and better light.” She replied. “You are an artificer? Perhaps you could bring me to you workshop.”

Mattias suppressed the urge to laugh. The first time a girl asked to go home with him, and it had to be like that?

“I don’t know.” He said, “I can’t get my cart down here.”

“According to basic specifications,” she said, “I weigh eighty-seven pounds. That is within the range a human can carry?”

That light? He could carry her pretty easily but it made him wonder even more at her construction.

“Okay.” Mattias said, “We’ll get you out of here, then. I’m Mattias, by the way. What’s your name?”

She thought for a moment

“Not in the system specifications,” she said sadly, “Perhaps you could call me something simple until I can remember?”

“We’ll figure something out.” Mattias said. He knelt down, placing one hand behind her back and another beneath her knees to lift her. Even knowing her weight, she was surprisingly light. “So, how’d you end up here.”

“It was about a hundred years ago.” She said, “I… began breaking down, and I can’t remember why. I came here because I was weak, and it was both isolated and had most of the parts I’d need to effect repairs. But as I was working on my legs, my hands seized up, and with my legs disabled for the repairs, I couldn’t move to find someone to help me.”

“I’m sorry you had to wait so long.” Mattias said.

“It is fine.” She replied, “I… I think the reason I am not able to recall personal details is because I suppressed them to endure the long dark.”

“Well,” Mattias said, “Soon enough, we’ll get you up and working, and then we can figure out just who you are.”

***

Three days after finding Metal (as they agreed she should be called), and she already had about the functionality one would expect from a human: She could walk about on her own, and use her hands, and Mattias suspected she only asked for his help with further service to humor his desire to be useful.

Her face was one of the earliest things restored after motor function. In its full glory, it was as expressive as the real thing. Her voice, which had been slightly stilted with her mouth disabled, was now formed and enunciated like a real human and had a live, musical quality rather than the tinny one of most speaking artifacts.

Her mind was very realistic too. Conversing with Metal, it was easy to forget that someone must have made her somewhere along the line, designed her such as she was, and there was a part of Mattias that wondered just how important that actually was. Even if they’d been programmed into her, she had thoughts and emotions. Even if they were artificial in the end, she still felt them as keenly as any living person would. She was kind and fearless, but also had her head in the clouds and seemed prone to miss small details, even ones that were staring her in the face. She wasn’t made for cold efficiency, she was made to be a person, and part of Mattias was sure she was.

Another part of him was horrified at the thought he might be falling in love with a construct – a gorgeous, charming, erudite construct, but a construct all the same. Even for a tinkerer, a profession that most regarded as prone to strangeness, that was out of line.

Well, he agreed with himself, all he had to do was not fall for her and he’d be fine. Maybe talking with her would even give him a clue how to talk to real women.

But, between everything, it wasn’t totally surprising when Mattias woke up to find Metal working at the stove. Not cooking, of course, tinkering: she had it half taken apart and was frowning at a collection of powerstone fragments.

“Oh,” she said, “You slept a long time.”

Mattias scratched his head, “Yeah, well I was up late. What’s the project.”

“I noticed your stove burned wood to cook your food.” She said, “Very inefficient. A simple red mana enchantment should get you a more even and potentially hotter flame, with no fuel required.”

“Red mana…” Mattias muttered, “You can do magic? Not just artifice, but real magic? Since when?”

“I started examining some memories last night.” She said, “There’s… a lot of memory and a lot of kinds of memory. I started with the bits relating to magic. It seemed safe enough, assuming I take it slowly.”

“Why not the other stuff… the personal stuff?” Mattias asked

Metal looked away,

“Metal?” Mattias asked, “Is something wrong.”

“It is… foolish.” She said

“What is?”

“I… part of me does not want to access those memories again. They frighten me. What if I was a bad person? Would I become that person again? And even if I don’t, the memories stretch a very long way back. It might be overwhelming to experience all of that.”

“Well,” Mattias said, “You never know until you try.”

“I am aware.” Metal said, “That is why I have isolated memories related somehow to parts of my structure. When I work on repairing and optimizing those systems, I will regain the memories associated with them to understand why… and more of who I was.”

“So I guess we’ll be calling you Metal for a while longer, huh.”

“I am fine with that.” Metal said, “It describes me, even if it is not very poetic.”

A construct with the soul of a poet. In a professional sense, Mattias didn’t want to believe it was possible. More importantly, though, he realized, was the fact that she was a construct who could cast spells – he’d been thinking about her too much as a person, but now it struck him that this was an amazing opportunity, if he could swallow his pride enough to take it.

On one hand, if Metal could use magic, she could presumably teach someone else. On the other hand, he’d be learning from a machine – a tool that somebody built. It wasn’t natural, unless…

It occurred to Mattias that it might be the point of her. So human-like, so gregarious, and so willing to let him in to some of the details of her workings, patiently explaining the task at hand and the steps he had to take. She could very well have been built to be a teacher, and if she was then there was no shame in learning from her.

“You know,” Mattias said, “If tinkering with my stove and putting yourself back together doesn’t take all your time, maybe you could teach me some of that magic.”

Metal inclined her head, “I would be happy to, Mattias.”

Well, he thought, that went well.

Mattias sat at a shady, corner table in the tavern. As enjoyable as his time with Metal – either working on her now nearly complete repairs or learning magic from her was, he needed a break. Or, at least, he needed mostly a break – he still fiddled with the magic, threads of azure energy from his hands moving and restructuring the gears of the small, clockwork toy he had brought with him to practice on.

He stopped when someone sat down across from him, and looked up from both his drink. It was Jakey, a low-life most people called ‘the Rat’, but who Mattias generally thought of as a friend. They’d been close enough as kids, and old habits died hard.

“Neat trick.” Jakey said, gesturing at the little automaton, “You must have gotten your hands on a lot of shards before the boss lady shut you down, huh?”

It took Mattias a moment to realize that his companion had seen the magic, and thought it came from the same source as every previous display, and a longer moment to figure out how to reply. It wasn’t a sin or a crime to know proper magic, but it would provoke more questions as to how he’d learned, and if Jakey the Rat knew something, soon enough everyone from the High Boughs to the Outer Rim would know.

“Yeah,” Mattais said, “At least, a few good ones.”

“Anyway,” Jakey said, “I’ve got a business proposition for you.”

“What’s that?” Mattias asked wearily.

“So, this woman comes into town today – pretty little thing, but you know, probably don’t say that to her face, she seemed kind of weird and intense. Anyway, she starts asking after some kind of metal woman, like a construct girl. It seems real stupid until she up and offers a practical mountain of gold to whoever gets her this thing so, what the ****, why not? She’s probably working for some rich freak, anyway… anyway, yeah, I was figuring you could build one. Scrap-diving doesn’t get you the best materials but, old buddy, I’ve got good sources on that. Anything you need, I could get it, and we’ll split the reward, fifty-fifty… what do you say?”

Mattias thought about it – not about accepting or refusing the offer, but how it seemed too much to be coincidence that this would happen so quickly after he pulled Metal out of that mind. Mattias hadn’t told a soul about her… but at the same time, he hadn’t exactly been totally clandestine about things like the windows of his house. Perhaps he would have to start.

“I don’t know, Jakey,” Mattias said, “I’d hate to do all the work of planning out something like that and putting it together if it might all come to nothing.”

“Come on!” Jakey whined, “If you’d have seen the offer you’d be building already, and don’t tell me you haven’t ever thought about building a girl construct before.”

“No,” Mattias said, “I haven’t. But I’ll tell you what – you talk to this woman and if she’s not looking for a specific metal woman or anything like that, you tell her we’re willing to get on the job and build to her specifications. That way we’ll have a contract, and we’ll be sure we don’t lose out.”

“Oooh!” Jakey whistled, “I get it now. Sorry, pal, I underestimated you. That’s smart but… uh… what do you mean specific?”

Mattias shrugged in an attempt to be nonchalant. “Maybe something Old Kingdom? I don’t know, and that’s the point.”

“Whatever you say, chief.” Jakey replied, “I’ll talk to the lady and see what she wants… maybe after we each have another drink, eh?”

“Actually.” Mattias said, standing up, “I think I’m going to head home and… take stock of what I’ve got. See you around.”

Mattias quickly paid his tab and left the tavern. He did not want to seem too hurried as he walked through the streets or unlocked his door, but there was a part of him that was frantic when he stepped inside.

Metal looked up at him and smiled.

“Ah,” she said happily, “You’re home.”

Then, her mood darkened somewhat.

“Are you unwell?” she asked.

“No,” Mattias said, “I just heard some strange news.”

“Well,” Metal said, “I’d like to know what it was.”

“A friend of mine,” Mattias said, “Says there’s a lady in town looking for a mechanical woman. I think she might be looking for you.”

“I see.” Metal said, “This troubles you?

“Well,” Mattias said, “After you’ve been down in that mine for a hundred years, I can’t think of any friendly reason someone would just now start asking after you. Can you?”

“No.” Metal admitted, “But I still have hardly scratched the surface of my memories. After all, I still don’t even know my own name. If someone knows of me, perhaps a hundred years is not a long time for them.”

“I’d hope so,” Mattias said, “But I’d rather not take chances.”

“I understand.” Metal said, “I suppose not all people can be expected to be as kind as yourself.”

Mattias shrank back a bit, unable to feel comfortable accepting the complement.

“In any case,” Metal said, seeming to sense his unease, “should we continue with your magic lessons?”

“Yeah,” Mattias replied, “I’d like that.”

***

The next evening, there was a loud knock on Mattias’ door as he was practicing the charms he had been taught.

“Stay out of sight.” He said, “Please.” Metal nodded, and retreated into the back room as Mattias went to the door.

There person at it was a stranger, a youngish woman with long, straight brown hair, pale skin, and icy blue eyes. If this was the woman Jakey had been talking to, though, he had exaggerated. She might have been pretty enough, but there was just something off about her. Maybe it was just the shadows.

“May I help you?” Mattias asked.

“We are looking for Mattias, an artificer I was told lived here. Are you he?”

Mattias craned his neck to look over the woman’s shoulder. There was no one else there to amount to ‘we’.

“Depends.” He said, “Who’s asking.”

“My name is Sorinne.” She replied.

“Sorinne, well, I am Mattias and I am an artificer, so perhaps you could tell me what you were looking for?”

“A woman made of metal,” she replied, “And yes, a very particular one, who we have reason to believe you have met.”

There was that ‘we’ again. She enunciated it very strangely, as though she wanted him to hear just how out of place it was. Vaguely, he remembered something about Old Kingdom royalty from a play… but that didn’t make any more sense than the thought she had some imaginary friend.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Mattias said, “Jakey wanted me to make you a construct girl, said you’d pay pretty good.

“We… offer a great reward if you would render us the woman we seek. We aren’t interested in any new creations. I hope you understand.”

Everything about Sorinne made Mattias feel strange and uncomfortable. Whether it was that eerie something in her countenance, the way she slipped between referring to her self as ‘I’ or ‘we’, or just some small tic in how she spoke and carried herself that hadn’t registered past the subconscious, he couldn’t help but feel that she was up to no good.

“Sorry,” he lied, “I haven’t seen anything like that.”

“Would you mind if we came in, then?” she asked, “I don’t want to impose on your hospitality, but…”

“The place is a total mess.” Mattias said, “You’re not really going to be able to put your feet up even.”

She frowned in a way that made Mattias think she had only been asking to be polite.

“If you’d like to rest a bit, I’ll buy you a drink down at the tavern. It’s not far.”

“I’m sorry, Mattias,” Sorinne said, “But we really must come in.”

Mattias thought about it. Clearly, she had some inkling Metal was inside, so if he let her in he wasn’t going to be able to keep her out of the back room.

“The answer is no.” he said, “If you want to do business, we can do business. If you don’t, I’m not letting you into my house.”

“I’m sorry.” She said again “I am really very, very sorry.”

“For what?” Mattias asked

“This.” She replied.

A wave of force struck Mattias and forced him backwards, tumbling over his workbench as the contents of his living room were tossed about or hurled against the far wall. Calmly, Sorinne stepped in. Mattias tried to stand, but found himself disoriented. That was when Metal emerged from the back room.

“There you are.” Sorinne said. Crimson energy crackled over her hands, and then a bolt of lightning arced to Metal. Metal grunted in what sounded like pain, but as the afterglow of the blast left Mattias’ vision, she didn’t seem to have been damaged.

“Who are you?!” Metal demanded, “Why are you attacking us?”

“We-“ Sorinne began, but then for a moment she doubled over and clutched her chest.

“You get no answer.” She said, “I’m afraid you need to die.”

“I will not submit.” Metal replied, “I hope you are prepared for battle.”

“Battle, good.” Sorinne growled. She hurled darts of fire and quick bursts of lightning, but Metal was ready for the assault. Some of the attacks froze in midair, lightning hanging still mid strike, globes of fire guttering and failing in place, while others dissolved into azure light. Several struck Metal, but it seemed that neither heat nor electric shock did much to harm her, at least at the intensity Sorinne could conjure.

All the same, as Mattias recovered from his daze, he realized that Metal was not winning the interchange – she was fighting entirely defensively, and her counters were intercepting less and less of Sorinne’s magic.

“Metal, run!” Mattias shouted, “Just get away!”

“Planeswalk and the whelp dies!” Sorinne growled, ceasing her barrage for a moment “And do not think we will not find you wherever you hide.”

“Planeswalk?” Metal exclaimed. “Planeswalk…” For a second, Metal froze, her eyes snapping to some distant vista, and Sorinne began to cast another spell. Mattias recognized it – he may not have been studying red magic, but Metal had taught him enough of the basics – it was a ‘Shatter’ spell, or something else like it, intended to break an artifact into a million useless pieces.

The casting was only a split second, but before Mattias had even put together what the attack was, he was already moving with a spell of his own. He felt the essence of the deep waters, the distant islands flow through him, and as the rumble of Sorinne’s magic crossed the room, his own lashed out, and the spell became a momentary puddle of some mana-remnant, evaporating before it fell to the floor.

Sorinne looked at Mattias, her face expressing… horror? Grief? It was not what Mattias had expected to see. At the same time, Metal snapped back to reality.

“So,” Metal said, confident and mixing anger with humor, “It seems I am a Planeswalker… Thank you for the information.”

Sorinne just remained fixed on Mattias.

“You shouldn’t have done that.” She said.

A wave of black magic surged out from her, though Mattias was not able to see it coming. He held out his hands, trying to ready another counter, but he had nothing left! He had hardly caught his breath, much less prepared himself for a magician’s duel. Metal reached out too, but too slow – the magic struck him, and his vision darkened, his world filled with nightmares and the pestilent stench of rot.

Then, it all vanished. Mattias was in a space that was like nothing he had ever experienced. He could not see, nor could he hear, nor even feel, but there were senses analogous to them, that told him that the space was screaming without sound, that there was darkness there and also substance to perceive though it had neither light nor matter.

Was this death?

No… it was something else. He looked around with his not-sight and saw the points of ‘light’ in the void. He felt like he could reach out and touch them – no, enter them.

Those were worlds!

On one of them, he realzed, Metal and Sorinne were probably still fighting, but which one? He couldn’t discern where he’d come from, and while there was a since of near or far what was to say he had not been thrown far in the first place. He had to figure it out!

Or did he?

Sorinne had threatened his life to coerce Metal into staying in the fight. As long as he wasn’t there, she could escape, and whatever had happened to him, he still wasn’t ready to be of much use against Sorinne. Metal’s best chance, he realized, was if he stayed away.

There were enough worlds, he thought, that any one wasn’t likely to send him back into the fight. He reached out to one of them, and dropped in.

Kalishin

Kalishin is the home-plane of Mattias the Tinkerer. In the distant past, it was ruled by the “Old Kingdom”, a highly technological regime that was torn down and buried beneath the roots of a world-forest by the planeswalker Clade. While the modern society of Kalishin is clearly “stronger” in Clade’s estimation (for he has not revisited it with ruination, and it has been quite some time) it is to some degree reliant on salvaged technology from the Old Kingdom, alongside the altered magical proclivities of its people now compared to then.

The New Kingdom
The great tree that was the center of Clade’s forest on Kalishin was one of the grander ones he created. Its boughs are now home to the capital of one of the major survivor-civilizations of Kalishin, the still-living tree host to thousands of humans of the “New Kingdom”, with all the amenities of the sprawling manors of the upper classes. The Crown, or highest boughs of the tree, are home to the royal palace of the New Kingdom, while lower branches house increasingly lower-ranked nobles, and the commoners that support the aristocracy directly live amidst and upon the roots of that great tree.

Engine Mines: The most valuable, irreplaceable piece of Old Kingdom artifice is an intact Powerstone Engine. The secret of their creation was lost to Clade, but the Old Kingdom used them so heavily, in countless different sizes through endless numbers of machines in their massive, dense and sprawling cities, that beneath the roots of the new world, it is quite possible to locate and extract lodes of working engines and, for those less interested in turning a quick profit, useful scrap from the broken machines. The best engine mines are positioned above the buried ruins of Old Kingdom foundries, civic centers, and the like, but dig anywhere that the Old Kingdom built (which, in the lowlands, is almost anywhere) and you are likely to discover many of their entombed artifacts to be rebuilt and repurposed for modern use.

Stewardship of the Forest: The New Kingdom’s second most powerful body, after the Royal Court, is its druidic circle. The humans took very easily to Clade’s demonstration of natural power, and the druids manage what can and can’t be taken from the woodlands and the natural world. Somewhere between a religious institution (which they are), a powerful lobby, and a Parks and Forest Service, the Druids to not deny the need of the New Kingdom for game, lumber, and land, but they do strictly regulate how much is taken and from where. The people usually accept the limits the druids set without question, for fear of natural vengeance if they violate such edicts.

New Kingdom philosophy focuses strongly on the idea of a harmony between the aspects of their gods, with no one element being ignored or promoted ahead of the others. In practice, however, the New Kingdom is somewhat more inclined towards their green and blue followings, accepting the other gods as merely a matter of course. The gods revered by the New Kingdom are five in number, and each is most strongly associated with one of the five colors

The Shackler: The god most strongly associated with White mana. The doctrine of the Shackler is to bring everything under control. That which is wild must be bound, that which is foul must be sealed or imprisoned. The Shackler does not destroy instead preserving its foes. The Shackler is portrayed as a stern, mature adult male and is usually depicted holding chains or manacles.

The Reclaimer: The goddess most strongly associated with Blue mana. The doctrine of the Reclaimer is to honor the past, and use its wisdom to always improve upon the present. Each day must be made to be better than the one before. The Reclaimer is the patron deity of artificiers, engine miners, and the like and is depicted as a young woman, usually holding scrolls or machine parts.

The Judge: The god associated with Black mana, the Judge holds the doctrine that actions naturally reap their fair rewards: the success or failure of mortal endeavors lies upon mortals, whether their ambitions should succeed or fail. The Judge espouses personal responsibility and promotes the belief that the group will not and should not aid nor inhibit the individual. The Judge is depicted as a male figure, his left half young and vital and his right half either withered and ancient or fully skeletal. He is depicted holding a set of scales in each hand.

The Celebrant: The goddess associated with Red mana, the Celebant’s doctorine is to live each day to its fullest: neither the past nor the future matter, so make the most of the present. Revel, be merry, do not cling to grudges nor defer to an unknown future what you can enjoy today. The Celebrant is depicted as a young woman, usually either dressed provocatively or entirely unclothed. Her most common attribute is that she is depicted holding a sash, either of cloth or of flames.

The Renewer: The Renewer is, transparently, based upon Clade: He appears as a male monstrosity: a great, hunched giant, and the doctrine of his following is the strength of Nature, of living in symbiosis with the forest, lest nature rise up, destroy, and begin the cycle again. The Renewer and the Reclaimer are the chief deities of the New Kingdom and inform its culture, which seeks to blend artifice and druidic traditions

Other Peoples
Kalishin is not home solely to the humans of the New Kingdom. The following are the other known sapient inhabitants of the plane

Aven: the Aven of Kalishin live on high, freezing mountains. Like the aven of Tarkir, they have only four limbs. All Aven of Kalishin resemble corvids (ravens and crows) in their aspect, and are universally black-feathered. The aven have a great affinity with their non-humanoid kin and are known to be attended by both flocks of ordinary sized corvids and the rare giant ravens, birds more than large enough to carry off humans in their claws. The aven are associated most strongly with blue and red mana – they are cunning and duplicitous, but also very warlike, descending on settlements that seem to be ‘easy prey’ like a murder of crows. They worship a singular Raven God.

Girtablilu: The Girtablilu have the head, torso, and arms of humans but the lower bodies of gigantic scorpions, much as centaurs do with horses. They prefer the depths of the deserts and hot regions of Kalishin where the forests that overgrew the Old Kingdom have themselves been worn away by sand and sun. The Girtablilu are an insular, tribal, and reclusive people. While they will fight to defend themselves and especially to defend their kin, they are more commonly shy and reserved. Their society promotes individual excellence tempered by an overwhelming devotion to the group: “No one’s claw is greater than the whole of the body. No one soul is greater than the whole of the tribe.” They are associated mostly with red and white mana. They seem to practice ancestor-worship, but are not very religious overall

Kithkin: The small folk of Kalishin live among the New Kingdom some times as well as having communities of their own on the fringes of society, but they are not truly part of it. They are insular, xenophobic, and according to the populace New Kingdom quite prone to cheating humans whenever possible. They worship the same gods as the New Kingdom but mostly focus upon the Judge and to a lesser extend the Shackler (aligning the Kithkin themselves with white and black mana). In truth, their worship is part of a wider philosophy of self versus other: What a kithkin can take by any means other than violence, the Kithkin deserve. They will lie, cheat, and steal but will not kill, as killing a rival would violate the precepts of the Shackler. Though much weaker than on Lorwyn, the Kithkin of Kalishin share something of a thoughtweft, and thus usually direct their criminal activity towards other races (mostly humans), since other kithkin are more part of the “self” than “other”

Elves: One would think the elves of Kalishin would have thrived following Clade’s coming, but the unfortunate truth is that such a thing did not happen. Though the Old Kingdom had tried to marginalize them, the Elves had adapted to its nature, and utilized their long lives to build a web of political connections and place their kin in high posts. This web collapsed when Clade destroyed the Old Kingdom, and in the reconstruction era, the human majority of the survivors quickly overran elven attempts to establish dominance, a fledgling elven kingdom built on the back of human slaves rising and falling within a single human lifetime. Since then, the elves have hated the New Kingdom, bitter at their own failure to take their “rightful” place as the rulers of the world. Their domain, in the old, deep forests that existed before Clade came, is a dark and dismal place of dark shadows and creeping things that only the Kithkin visit and even then rarely dare to cheat too much. Elves on Kalishin are associated with green and black mana and revere a racial Mother-Goddess while regarding Clade, or The Renewer, as their devil figure.