you're not going to slow it down

"Stop," The alchemist commanded. He was about to question the Thusswolv when the ambush came. He had just reached the treeline. All he could surmise from his sudden and painful impact with the ground was that the witch-hunter had been hidden in the canopy, waiting for the alchemist to get close enough to rescue his friend. Though smaller of stature, the witch-hunter had the advantage of momentum.

The knife was in the witch-hunter's hands, suddenly filling Conlan's vision. The wolv was too busy with the chimera to save him this time, but it rapidly became unnecessary. The weapon lingered in front of Conlan's throat for a long moment, but the man bearing it suddenly looked pale. His dark skin seemed to have very little blood beneath, and Conlan realized the man was loosing consciousness. A quick roll displaced the man, and sent him crashing to the ground. Scrambling, the alchemist claimed the knife from unresponsive fingers. At last he noticed the sling, how fevered the man's eyes were as they slid closed.

The exertion must have proved too much for the man at last, and he'd fallen unconscious. Conlan thanked whatever luck he had for that, and slowly got to his knees, knife in hand. The Thusswolv abandoned his standoff with the chimera, casting a worried look at the second half of his ambush party.

"Don't hurt him," The wolv asked, his tone almost pleading.

Before he replied, Conlan's fingers reached up to brush the shallow cut in his neck, and traced over the needle-wound in his shoulder that he had patched carefully. He shook his head - revenge was not really his way, but this man was a danger to him and Thenotay.

"He would not have the same consideration for me." There was proof already of that point. The wolv looked torn, as if he might have to break his second promise to the alchemist should the man decide to harm the witch-hunter. The alchemist allayed his fears. "It's not my way to kill men, nor injure them out of spite."

"I did not want to let him kill you." The wolv crept closer, despite the warning hiss that sprang up from Thenotay. "I've been ordered by the hand. It's my pack-duty to kill you and blood myself."

"I know." Conlan said, expecting that if the Wolv really intended to make such a move he would have already acted. "But you haven't." He tested, curious as to what this hesitation was.

"I promised not to." The wolv moved past him, still talking, and gently heaved the witch-hunter up, slinging a furred arm around his shoulder, then gripping him under the knees. Crumpled up like that, and against the massiveness of the wolv, the hunter seemed rather un-intimidating - he looked little more than a child. Conlan did not let the image fool him - the hunter's small size lent him speed and agility. "I'm sorry that I decided it would be okay to let him break my promise, but Singer-"

The Thuss woman. And there could be only one real explaintion for a Thuss and a Thusswolv to travel so close together and not in each other's company. They were intended, and the wolv had to blood before he could marry. Conlan sighed, suddenly thrust into an undesirable position in a complicated matter. He wasn't certain how the deal had been worked out with the witch-hunter who was most certainly in it for money and very little else.

"Master Conlan." Thenotay's voice broke into his train of thought, the wary chimera's attention focused sharply on the wolv. "We should go, and leave them behind."

"No, he's injured." Conlan sighed. "Perhaps he'll decide he wants to kill me less if I treat his wounds. But we'll have to move from here. Can you carry him?" He addressed the Wolv, who's name he still did not know.

"Yes." The wolv answered, his ears flicking backward uncertainly. They almost disappeared in his thick mane when he did so. "We should exchange names, and then perhaps we can work out a compromise."

"I should hope I've earned myself the right to a compromise that doesn't involve my return to the city in pieces." Conlan sighed, though his tone was without any real malice. "I'm Conlan, as you already know. My companion..." He gestured to the Iron-Calcium chimera, who's whiplike tail was switching slowly to reveal his displeasure in a situation he perceived as dangerous to Conlan.

"Thenotay." The chimera introduced himself, speaking slowly to leave as much bone on metal growl evident as possible. "Equal parts bone and metal."

"A little magic, too." Conlan amended the chimera's self-description.

"I'm Roan." The wolv answered as the alchemist had predicted. Thusswolv were often named for their physical attributes - as a pet would be. It was a holdover from their days as alchemist's servants. "And this is Shatura."

"I'm pleased to make your acquaintance at last, Roan. Thank you for saving me from him." Retrieving his pack, Conlan beckoned Thenotay over to secure the weighty supplies to him. The load had to be carefully balanced, but Thenotay felt no pain and never grew tired - his sturdy and heavy frame was capable of supporting up to it's own weight again before it was incapable of moving. Deftly strapping the pack to his companion's shoulders, Conlan gave him a thankful and affectionate pat.

"Relax a little," He told his friend quietly. The chimera gave him a sharp glance, then turned back toward the Thusswolv, and nodded. Conlan tucked the knife into his own belt, carefully. He would give it back to the witch-hunter of the man eventually proved reasonable.

All burdened, they set off to find a safe place to set up camp.
---


Barely able to sort his thoughts, Roan carried the witch-hunter along behind the alchemist and the chimera. He wasn't sure exactly how he should proceed - but Conlan had offered to care for Shatura, and the man definately needed medical care. Roan's pack had long ago taught him that herbalism was important, but he himself had not learned much of the trade. He had never trusted human doctors, they seemed to be constantly flailing about for answers to the wrong questions. He did, to a point, trust the alchemist to know what he was doing. The man had a good knowledge of anatomy and seemed handy enough at patching wounds.

He did not know what to do about his orders to become blooded, or how to explain to Singer the events that were taking place here. She was not exactly the most understanding of people. Instead, he chose to worry about that later, and deal with more pressing issues now.

Roan's nose picked up no sign of danger at the camp the alchemist picked out. His energy was rapidly flagging and the added strain of carrying the hunter was wearing on him. Glad for the chance at rest, he readily left Shatura in Conlan's care once a makeshift bed of blankets had been laid out. The hunter's skin was fevered, a heat detectable even through the thick paw pads on Roan's fingers. He had not regained consciousness.

"Thenotay." Conlan spoke gently to his companion after unburdening him. "Can you gather tinder for the fire?"

The thusswolv noticed that it wasn't an order. The chimera looked once at him in mistrust, then agreed. Roan found his loyalty curious, but indicative of their relationship. Thenotay called the alchemist master, but was not his slave. Disappearing into the brush, he returned at intervals with wood for the fire. Roan noticed that the chimera could only carry one piece at a time and decided to lend the chimera his hands, recovering dry branches while the alchemist attended Shatura's wounds.

The Chimera watched him carefully when pursuit of firewood brought them close together. It's intelligence surprised him , and he owed it an apology for dealing it what would have been a mortal blow. He was uncertain how to broach the subject.

"I'm sorry." He tried when they were out of earshot of the camp. It needed to be a personal and private conversation to give the chimera a chance to express what was on it's mind without fear of chastisement from the alchemist who had called for a truce.

Attention suddenly focusing on the thusswolv, the chimera did not immediately answer. Though it had no eyes in it's skull, it could obviously see through some magical device. Roan felt it's gaze boring into him, judging him. He could read no expression on it's fleshless face, and for a moment he realized how truly terrifying the chimera was. In fact, it suddenly occurred to him how very shocking it was that Thenotay could ever appear benign. A terrifying animated and armored corpse, impervious to pain if not destruction.

Then, with an intelligent flick of it's tail, Thenotay's expression somehow seemed to soften. It was so aware of how to express it's self through body language that immediately, Roan felt foolish to fear it.

"I forgive you." It's voice was curious, creaking and metallic. It rang words and scraped them, but expressed them all the same. Roan remembered the sparks that flew from it's mouth in anger and surmised it spoke with a metal device. "I do not yet trust you not to hurt my master."

"Thusswolv are sworn to kill the wicked alchemists." Roan explained softly. He bent to recover more firewood, and the chimera picked up a piece, but did not return to the camp. Instead, it ventured near enough to deposit it into the crook of the wolv's arm atop the pile he was gathering. "Your mast is not a wicked man like those who did this to us."

He gestured at his fur-covered body, but the point was weakened by his parentage.

"You would seek to be other than you are?" Thenotay pointed out the flaw in his reasoning acutely. "Do you suppose you would even exist without their actions?"

Roan's answer seemed awfully week, when speaking to another alchemic creation. The chimera knew how it felt to have human intelligence, but be regarded as less than human. HIs usual answer involved the treatment he received as a Thusswolv - but Thenotay was worse off. He doubled the chimera had ever had any human reaction that wasn't fear or horror. At least Roan had more than one other to speak to and shared his appearance with a pack.

"Their actions have hurt people that I love and respect." Roan found an answer that would not sleight the chimera's intelligence at last.

"Doubtless your loved ones have ahd their revenge on those that wronged them.' IT was a point Roan had to concede. Every thusswolv had blooded themselves with an alchemist that had ever sired children. He had never thought of it, but as their race grew they had killed far more alchemists than there could possibly have been original creators of the thusswolv. They had doubled their revenge long ago, and now were simply teaching a hatred that should have long ago been satiated by blood paid. "When does this revenge end?" Thenotay continued, waiting for the wolv's answer.

"When all alchemists are dead - so that they may never harm another race." It was the answer Roan had been taught from birth.

"How will destroying those that can possibly repair your race fix the damage that has been done?" The chimera pressed, and the wolv turned on him suddenly. It was difficult to be so understanding when he should know nothing but hate.

"The damage is irreversible." HE tried to keep his tone calm. Logically, he did not understand his anger. He had always been as he was, and he did not resent his body. The tight structure of his pack shamed most human families, who squabbled and argued over the smallest of things. His senses were sharper, and his defenses better. "It cannot be undone." He repeated.

"Alchemy can unmake anything it has made." The chimera turned to lead them back toward camp. "It can unmake me and it can return thusswolvs to what they once were. Though I suspect they would regret such a return, once they had made it."

Roan fell silent. He loved his people. They had become a successful race overcoming the struggles that had faced them. Though they lamented the eventual destruction of their sister race, the Thuss, the wolv were in no danger of extinction - they could procreate with any of their myriad component creatures to create more male offspring f their race. He had never thought about what a sudden unmaking would do to his family - they would drift apart, no longer held together by self-preservation. All that they had accomplished and become would die. Would he become human? Animal? Nothing at all?

"You're right." He told the chimera solemnly. Carefully he stacked the firewood to prevent the blaze from escaping. "You're right."
---

The room was small, clean. It held racks and enclosed cabinets, several chairs and a writing table for notes. It was aware of everything in the room, hundreds of ingenious sensors like nerves telling it vital information. Right now it shared the room with Jessa and her child, both occupying a rocking chair that had been placed to accommodate her. NO one else ever sat in that chair - the other alchemists used straight legged chairs or stood.

It did not need a chair, nor room to stand. It understood, to some extent, that it occupied a series of enclosed cabinets, unlike many thinking creatures it could see the workings of it's own mind and remain aware. The actual machinery it disassociated from. Cogs and wheels and sensors and alchemically bound magic allowed it to think, but did not define it's entire existence.

This always left it somewhat disoriented. People addressed it's main sensory bank and it 'faced' them by projecting and recieving from that rather than the secondary sensors scattered throughout the room. It had no way to physically interact with it's world, but having no experience of such at hing, it did not yet know to miss or need that.

It had been told that outside the room, beyond the hall it's sensors perceived, around the bend that it could not see the other side of, there was more. Much more than four alchemists and a table and chairs to seat them. It had been taught words and concepts for objects it could only perceive second-hand. It would never personally witness trees or a building or the sky - all things it knew existed, outside of it's sensory range. It did not yet long to see those, either.

So far, it was content to learn what it was taught, each alchemist presenting a vast array of things for it to consider and absorb, fantastic puzzle pieces that it found it had a knack for putting together. It knew about puzzles because Cade had brought it one and assembled it again under it's direction. It went together to form a picture of clouds and mountains, and the machine had memorized it and it's hundred little pieces.

Often it would dissemble and reassemble it at the back of it's mind visualizing the pieces one by one fitting together to make a picture. Cade told it that the picture was beautiful, and it came to associate beauty with things it would never witness. When it asked the other alchemists about beauty, each had a different example and it had learned about subjectivity, diversity, and that each person was unique. Shaped by makeup and upbringing.

Before long it began to piece together it's own unique traits, encouraged by the alchemists to express preferences and form opinions. At first, it had been somewhat startled to realize that it -could-. Then it came naturally it's thoughts turning over acquired information to form opinions from logic.

It's first request had been to no longer be left alone at nights. With no stimulus and no need to sleep all it could do was run through redundant knowledge, books unsatisfying. The alchemists had complied, each taking turns at sitting with him as Cade's wife was now, moving slowly in her chair to keep him company and soothe the baby.

"Jessa." It spoke softly, careful of the sleeping baby in her arms. She looked up as it addressed her, arching her brows. Someone was always minding the machine - they worked in shifts, recording and interacting with it. "Your baby - it will grow as big as you?"

"He," She corrected. The baby was a boy. Having no gender of it's own, the machine had a problem remembering to affix the proper pronouns to the alchemists working with it. "Yes, with time, he'll grow to be as big as I am, if not bigger."

"Was he smaller at one point - when you built him?" It's tone conveyed earnest curiosity. The alchemist laughed a little at basically having to explain the birds and the bees to it.

"Humans are organic." She said gently. It was difficult for her to put it in terms that the machine could relate to. "We reproduce ourselves naturally - two parents produce a child who gains mixed traits from both parents."

The machine was silent for a long while, processing the information. "Somewhat like alchemy? Two separate components combined into one?"

"Yes. Only the process requires no magic." She laughed. "And little premeditation."

It thought again sorting back through what information it had to puzzle things out. It knew enough about human anatomy to piece the basics together.

Lulled by it's silence she went back to gently rocking the sleeping baby. She was quiet, probably tired from waking in the middle of the night to feed the baby and long hours here. She began to doze, and the machine made no sound to wake her, having learned of a humans need to sleep.

It knew more every day about human workings. It had learned much from Cade - the alchemist most responsible for it's creation took a sort of fatherly pride in answering it's questions. It knew that Cade and Jessa were married, and that the baby was theirs. That love was a wonderful human emotion shared between beings that got along. Fascinated, it loved to watch the interactions that humans had. Cade and Jessa were most interesting - they treated it much like a friend or a favored student.

There were two others who worked with it, equally intriguing but different in many ways. Oasten tended ot dodge or avoid the more difficult questions and took more notes than the other alchemists. Vess was an endless font of tests and questions, philosophies and theories that seemed easy and overthought to the machine.

The most interesting thing to it was the range of emotions that humans displayed. Love and anger could change their actions drastically. Cade went from a fairly firm, intelligent personality to absolute buffoonery around his child. It often wondered how human babies learned anything from the nonsense they received as input at an early age. Regardless of anything it dismissed as ridiculous, emotions were something it sought to understand. Cade described them as such overcoming, wondrous things It expected it would not truly live until it could comprehend and experience these emotions.

Love, in specific. It wanted to understand the way Cade felt about his wife and child. Slowly, it was forming a plan.
---