ÿþ<Html> <Head> <Title>Redemption of Precarious Puppeteer</title> <style type="text/css"> P { text-indent: 2.8% } </style> </head> <Body bgcolor="#c4c4c4"> <BR> <BR> <Center><p><h2>Redemption of Precarious Puppeteer</h2></P> <P><B>qg¹eºNb_œU</B></P> <BR> <P> Published in December 2007 <HR width=40%> </center> <BR> <BR> <P>When the sunlight turns orange and slides off the drafting board, I know I&rsquo;ve been sitting in one place for too long. I looked up, out the window over my workbench. The trees outside cast long shadows in the setting sun. Birds chirped and sang, encouraging the night to come. It was already evening. </P> <P>I sighed. There&rsquo;s nothing wrong with being absorbed in your work. My happiest moments have been spent in my workshop, crafting dolls and their parts, unaware of time passing. But sitting over a concept sketch for three straight hours, making no additions or improvements. There&rsquo;s something <I>very</I> wrong with that.</P> <P>I wasn&rsquo;t ready to give up. </P> <P>&ldquo;It&rsquo;s getting dark,&rdquo; I said. &ldquo;Shanghai! Light, if you please.&rdquo; </P> <P>She hovered into my workshop, carrying a lit sparklamp. If you didn&rsquo;t look closely, you might mistake Shanghai for a <I>youkai </I>fairy. She wore a dress like one, had wings like one, and moved around by flying. But if you took a second glance, you&rsquo;d notice the doll joints. The wooden complexion. She&rsquo;s my greatest creation to date. I built her with simple independent intelligence, limited speech ability, and a dynamic set of instructions for spontaneous spell casting. She&rsquo;s a pint-sized maid and reusable spellcard all in one. </P> <P>I returned focus to the concept sketch on the drafting board. I flipped the pages back and forth, going from the sketch to the spells and back again. For weeks now, I had been working on a doll even better than Shanghai. I had a good idea of the physical appearance, modeled in the likeness of <I>youkai </I>fairies like most my dolls are. But the magic portion stumped me. I had already transcribed the base instruction set from Shanghai&rsquo;s personality, but I didn&rsquo;t know where to go from there. </P> <P>Sometimes inspiration comes to me. Today it didn&rsquo;t. Hadn&rsquo;t for most of a month. I hated to think it, but maybe I had mage&rsquo;s block. </P> <P>&ldquo;No good!&rdquo; I said. I ripped the spell-covered sheet off the draft board, crumpled it up and threw it to the side. I wasn&rsquo;t watching where I tossed it. Shanghai had almost set the lamp down on the desk, but my projectile paper ball caught her square in the face. It knocked her off balance. She stayed airborne, but she lost her hold on the lamp. </P> <P>It fell to the floor and shattered, right next to a pile of crumpled-up sheets of scratch paper. The magic from within the lamp burned for only a split second when exposed to open air, but it burned fast and hot like flash powder. The discarded paper caught flame. </P> <P>&ldquo;Shanghai!&rdquo; I shouted. I hopped off the workbench chair and stomped on the fire, smothering it. It&rsquo;s lucky I wear my boots while in the shop. It&rsquo;s unladylike to wear heavy footwear indoors, but it&rsquo;s worse to get wood splinters in my feet. I keep the shop immaculate, but working on dolls means working on wood. Splinters will hide both from the broom and the eye. </P> <P>Thanks to my trusty boots, the fire was gone in a minute. Most of the paper had burned off, spreading ashen dust everywhere. It would be a pain to clean. I looked up at Shanghai. She sat on the edge of the workbench, her face blank as always. </P> <P>&ldquo;You fumbling little doorstop!&rdquo; I said. &ldquo;You almost burned my house down.&rdquo;</P> <P>&ldquo;I&rsquo;m very sorry, Mistress,&rdquo; she said. Her mouth didn&rsquo;t move as she spoke, since it had no moving parts. One of her enchantments allowed her to make sound by exciting the air near her. She stood and bowed, her joints clicking and clacking. </P> <P>I sighed again. I couldn&rsquo;t be too angry. She was clumsy only because I couldn&rsquo;t make her better. Even her apology was something I had programmed into her. Speak, stand and bow. It&rsquo;s the same motion she went through every time she broke something, spilled something, overcooked something. It was monotonous. </P> <P>&ldquo;Well,&rdquo; I said. &ldquo;I&rsquo;m not getting any work done anyway. Let&rsquo;s go for a walk instead. Go grab my scarf for me. Try not to burn anything on the way.&rdquo;</P> <P></P> <BR> <P>---</P> <P></P> <BR> <P>I stepped out into the cool autumn afternoon. I had my cloak around my shoulders, my scarf around my neck. Shanghai closed the front door behind us, and we headed down the trail from my doorstep. </P> <P>&ldquo;Winter&rsquo;s coming on fast,&rdquo; I said. I could see my breath in white puffs. The Forest of Magic was skeletal this time of year, trees reaching their naked branches into the sky like millions of bony fingers. Their leaves had all fallen, making a carpet of humus on the forest floor. </P> <P>The chill air and bare trees spoke of a long and hard cold season up ahead. But it didn&rsquo;t trouble me. The failing sun made it a lovely sight. It&rsquo;s hard to find any place in this country without breathtaking scenery. </P> <P>&ldquo;Some say I&rsquo;m crazy for living in the forest,&rdquo; I said as I stepped down the path. &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t listen to them, Shanghai. There&rsquo;s no better place in Gensokyo.&rdquo;</P> <P>&ldquo;Yes Mistress,&rdquo; said the doll, hovering near my shoulder.</P> <P></P> <BR> <P>---</P> <P></P> <BR> <P>I&rsquo;m Alice Margatroid, Gensokyo&rsquo;s number one girl. I&rsquo;m simply the prettiest, smartest, strongest, classiest lady in the land. I&rsquo;m a first-class magic user. I focus on <I>automancy</I>, the creation and management of self-operational magical objects. Dolls, in a layman&rsquo;s word. It&rsquo;s one of the top mystic disciplines. It takes a practitioner of tremendous talent and skill to make even minor advances. </P> <P>It&rsquo;s no wonder yours truly chose such a field. </P> <P>&ldquo;Where are we going, Mistress?&rdquo; said Shanghai. </P> <P>&ldquo;Nowhere particular,&rdquo; I said. &ldquo;I suppose we could stop by <I>Hakaiko</I>&rsquo;s house. See if she&rsquo;s as magically stagnant as I&rsquo;ve been.&rdquo; </P> <P>&ldquo;<I>Hakaiko</I>, Mistress?&rdquo;</P> <P>&ldquo;Destruction child,&rdquo; I said. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s a fitting nickname, don&rsquo;t you think?&rdquo;</P> <P></P> <BR> <P>---</P> <P></P> <BR> <P>In the Forest of Magic, there&rsquo;s a house not far from mine. Yet unlike my home, this house is small and dingy, covered up to the windows in weeds and vines. The interior is worse, cluttered and unorganized and unsanitary. I didn&rsquo;t know how this house&rsquo;s sole resident could stand to live in such filth. </P> <P>Then again, she&rsquo;s human. </P> <P>Shanghai and I came up the path, leading to the house&rsquo;s front doorstep. </P> <P>&ldquo;There&rsquo;re no lights on,&rdquo; I said. &ldquo;I wonder if she&rsquo;s home.&rdquo;</P> <P>As if in answer, I heard an incantation yelled from inside the house. It sounded like a little girl was arguing with someone.</P> <P>&ldquo;Astro sign: <I>Milky Way</I>!&rdquo;</P> <P>Silence. I stood, waiting for the sight or sound of a spellcard going off. Nothing happened.</P> <P>I smiled to myself. She was stuck, just like I was. </P> <P>The front door flew open, slammed the outside wall and shuddered on its hinges. A young human girl, blonde of head and dark of clothing, came rushing out. Her feet caught on the uneven threshold, tripping her. She fell flat on her face, then scrambled back to her feet. She ran out to me. </P> <P>&ldquo;Hello, Marisa,&rdquo; I said.</P> <P>&ldquo;Meets and greets, Alices!&rdquo; she yelled. &ldquo;Run super fast nows!&rdquo; </P> <P>&ldquo;Run? From what?&rdquo;</P> <P>Her house exploded.</P> <P></P> <BR> <P>---</P> <P></P> <BR> <P>Every window shattered and blew outwards, shooting shards of glass in all directions. A huge hole punched up through the roof. Plaster, wood and dirt flew up and rained down. Smoke shot up from the hole like a geyser, followed by an eruption of magical projectiles. </P> <P>Stars. Thousands of them. Five pointed, colored sky blue, light pink, dusty rose, each about the size of my hand. They flooded out every orifice of the house. They spilled out the door and windows, gushed up the hole in the roof, sprayed out from the chimney. Waves of them came at Marisa and me. </P> <P>I stood, my mouth hanging open in shock. Marisa tugged my arm, wanting to run and take me with her. But I wouldn&rsquo;t let this failure of a spell scare me.</P> <P>&ldquo;Shanghai!&rdquo; I said. &ldquo;Shield!&rdquo; </P> <P>The doll flew in front of me, held out both hands. A magical construct formed before her, the shape and size of a large tower shield. It was transparent at first, rippling and forming. It quickly gained mass and color, turning metallic golden. Shanghai could hold it up, but just barely. </P> <P>Marisa and I both ducked behind the shield, and not a second too soon. The stars hit just then. They flew slower than an arrow shot from a bow, but hit with plenty of force. The stars that flew elsewhere into the woods mowed over bushes and rattled tree trunks. Two smaller trees were tipped over, their roots ripping from the ground with snaps and groans. Shanghai nearly buckled. She held only because I backed her. </P> <P>I saved Marisa from herself. I&rsquo;m so good. </P> <P>The spell died off. The remaining stars faded out, dissolving into twinkles like a dead fairy. Shanghai let the shield disappear. Marisa and I got back to our feet, looking over the damage. Her home still stood, but broken. It looked like the center of a crater, with the local flora leveled in a circle around it. </P> <P>I turned to her. &ldquo;I assume you didn&rsquo;t do that on purpose.&rdquo;</P> <P>&ldquo;Not reallies.&rdquo; She scratched her head. &ldquo;Experimentings. Trying to comes up with new spellcards.&rdquo;</P> <P>&ldquo;As if you don&rsquo;t have enough destructive spells,&rdquo; I said. </P> <P>She smiled. &ldquo;Never enoughs. Gotta come up with new flavors to the mixes, add some versatilities.&rdquo;</P> <P>I looked back at her ruined house. &ldquo;The general rule of composing new spells is to start small. Increase the power only gradually.&rdquo; </P> <P>&ldquo;Eh. Quicker to go other way arounds.&rdquo;</P> <P>&ldquo;But results in more deaths and destroyed homes.&rdquo; I walked towards her house. &ldquo;Since I&rsquo;m here, I&rsquo;ll help with the damage report. Come on.&rdquo; </P> <P></P> <BR> <P>---</P> <P></P> <BR> <P>The home was in better shape than it first seemed, but it wasn&rsquo;t fit to live in. The broken windows and roof would let the weather in. The interior was even more disarrayed that usual. Piles of books usually stacked against the walls now covered the floor. The place looked like it had been through an earthquake. A Marisaquake.</P> <P>In the front room, Marisa knelt over the broken remnants of a glass jar. She held the pieces in her palms, looking down at them as she might a dead pet. </P> <P>&ldquo;Wows. Worse than I thoughts. Place is really banged ups.&rdquo; She looked up at me. &ldquo;Used to be <I>youkai</I> glitters in this jars. Caught them off a dying fairies. Very valuables. Faded away when it broke opens.&rdquo;</P> <P>I felt my upper lip lift in a small sneer. Imagine how a human might feel hearing her neighborhood witch say, <I>This jar was filled with monkey&rsquo;s blood</I>. Mild disgust. Knowing the poor beast was not far removed from herself in an evolutionary sense. </P> <P>&ldquo;I&rsquo;m sorry for your loss,&rdquo; was the nicest thing I could say. Part of me wanted to say, <I>Serves you right</I>. </P> <P>&ldquo;No worries.&rdquo; Marisa stood, dropping the glass pieces to the floor. &ldquo;Own faults. Getting upsets won&rsquo;t fix its. Wonder what to doos, thoughs. Take a lot of time and moneys and works to fix it ups. Kind of short on moneys and works.&rdquo;</P> <P>&ldquo;And time,&rdquo; I said. &ldquo;It&rsquo;ll be dark in an hour or two. You can&rsquo;t sleep here tonight. Not only the cold, but lesser <I>youkai</I> could wander right in.&rdquo;</P> <P>She nodded. &ldquo;Yeahs. Don&rsquo;t wanna miss my toes tomorrow &lsquo;cause fairies had &lsquo;em for midnight snacks. But don&rsquo;t wanna leave, eithers. Rainstorms could ruin all my books.&rdquo;</P> <P>&ldquo;You won&rsquo;t get to enjoy your books if you&rsquo;re dead,&rdquo; I said. &ldquo;There&rsquo;re no rain clouds. You can afford to leave the place one night.&rdquo;</P> <P>She didn&rsquo;t look happy about it, but she nodded. &ldquo;You&rsquo;re rights. Should find a place to stays. Maybe Reimu&mdash;&rdquo;</P> <P>I stepped forward, careful not to trip on anything. Put a hand on her shoulder. &ldquo;The Hakurei Shrine is too far. You won&rsquo;t make it before dark. It&rsquo;s a huge imposition, but I have to let you stay at my place.&rdquo;</P> <P>Her face lit up. &ldquo;Reallies? That&rsquo;s major nice, Alices. Won&rsquo;t be too much of a bothers, promises. Can even make dinners for&mdash;&rdquo;</P> <P>&ldquo;No!&rdquo; I said. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ve had your cooking before. My dolls will make dinner.&rdquo;</P> <P>&ldquo;Gotta repays you somehows.&rdquo; She snapped her fingers. &ldquo;Oh, I knows! Wait heres.&rdquo; </P> <P>She turned and went to another room, clambering over fallen towers of junk. I stood and waited, but only because I had nothing better to do. Shanghai took a seat on my shoulder to rest. I couldn&rsquo;t blame her. The shield spell used a lot of power, and there wasn&rsquo;t much ambience on a cool evening to replace it. She needed to conserve and recharge.</P> <P>I could feel the cold getting to me, too. I wanted to be back in my warm home. Maybe hit the workshop again, take another shot at the new doll design. </P> <P>&ldquo;Found its!&rdquo; Marisa called from the other room. I heard more shuffling and banging, sounding her return.</P> <P>&ldquo;It better not be another one of <I>your </I>attempts at doll making,&rdquo; I said. &ldquo;If I wanted a straw Marisa doll, I could make one myself.&rdquo;</P> <P>&ldquo;This&rsquo;ll be goods.&rdquo; </P> <P>Marisa came back to the front room, holding a particularly big book in both hands. She handed it too me, after nearly loosing her balance over a pile of garbage. I took the book, brushed the dust off it, read the title. <I>Theory and Application of non-Material Magical Automata.</I></P> <P>Incredible. Marisa had something that might actually be relevant to my interests.</P> <P>&ldquo;Where did you get this?&rdquo; I said.</P> <P>&ldquo;From a big libraries.&rdquo; She grinned. &ldquo;Talk about its on the ways. Don&rsquo;t want get caught outsides with our bloomers downs.&rdquo;</P> <P>My face went hot, but I tried not to show it. Now wasn&rsquo;t the time to talk about Marisa&rsquo;s bloomers.</P> <P></P> <BR> <P>---</P> <P></P> <BR> </P> <P>I wanted to crack into this book, but the light outside was too dim to read by. I could have made Shanghai use a lamp spell, but she was drained on power. Marisa kept me occupied as we walked back to my house. She told me what she had done last summer. </P> <P>&ldquo;You&rsquo;re making this up,&rdquo; I said. &ldquo;You and Reimu went to that abandoned building on the lake. Found a vampire living there. Saved her and her sister. And <I>that&rsquo;s </I>where the sky mist came from. Do you expect me to believe that? It&rsquo;s way more likely that Gensokyo suffered a magistorm.&rdquo;</P> <P>She looked at me. &ldquo;Magistorms?&rdquo;</P> <P>I <I>hmph</I>ed. &ldquo;If you actually read any of those books, you&rsquo;d know that Gensokyo overflows with magical energy about twice a century. It causes all kinds of strange effects. Quakes, weather anomalies, <I>youkai </I>mutations. Humans often only see one in a lifetime. Hope you enjoyed it. You&rsquo;ll probably never see another.&rdquo;</P> <P>&ldquo;Maybe so, but it wasn&rsquo;t a storms,&rdquo; she said. She nodded to the book I carried in one arm. &ldquo;Came from Patchey&rsquo;s library. Come with mees next times I go borrow some books.&rdquo;</P> <P>&ldquo;No, thank you. If this Patchouli person is real, she&rsquo;s someone I don&rsquo;t care to meet. Elementalists are a very territorial and stuck-up variety of magician.&rdquo; </P> <P>&ldquo;Not a problems,&rdquo; said Marisa. &ldquo;Found a good ways to sneak ins. Patchey never knows I&rsquo;m theres.&rdquo;</P> <P>&ldquo;You&rsquo;re lying again. An elementalist has constant awareness of her domain, either by spells or fairy guards. You couldn&rsquo;t get in without her knowing it.&rdquo;</P> <P>Marisa let out an exaggerated sigh, like a lovelorn maiden. &ldquo;Force my hands, why don&rsquo;t yous. Truth is, Patchey yells and screams, get outs, get outs every time I show ups. So I walk up real closes.&rdquo; She held her hands in front of her face, as if ready to kiss someone. &ldquo;Tell hers, Patchey dears. Let me borrow some books, it&rsquo;ll be so worth your whiles. And she says, oh Marisa of mines, can&rsquo;t say no to yous. Just embrace me onces and take all the books you wants. Be waiting, break hearts and lonely until you come backs.&rdquo;</P> <P>Silence. </P> <P>Marisa looked at me. She laughed.</P> <P>&ldquo;Don&rsquo;t blush, puppet girls!&rdquo; She slapped a hand over her mouth, trying to hold back her laughter. &ldquo;Was just kiddings.&rdquo;</P> <P>&ldquo;I know you were,&rdquo; I said, putting a hand on my cheek. Hot again. &ldquo;Your explanations are just so ridiculous, they&rsquo;re embarrassing me.&rdquo;</P> <P></P> <BR> <P>---</P> <P></P> <BR> <P>We made it to my house just after sunset. Marisa and I were relieved to be indoors. The rapidly chilling autumn air had worn us out, and neither of us wanted to deal with wandering <I>youkai</I>. Wild fairies couldn&rsquo;t eat my flesh, but they wouldn&rsquo;t learn that until they tried. I look human, sound human, and I&rsquo;m told that I even smell human. </P> <P>Marisa and I stepped into my front room. She hung her ridiculous wide-brimmed hat at the door, and I set up my scarf and cloak beside it. I closed the door behind us, then shrugged Shanghai off my shoulder. </P> <P>&ldquo;Start the lamps, Shanghai,&rdquo; I said. &ldquo;It&rsquo;ll be dark soon.&rdquo;</P> <P>&ldquo;Yes, Mistress.&rdquo; The doll took wing. There were several glass balls on fixtures around the room. Shanghai flew to each of them, touched and ignited them. Orange sparks from each lamp&rsquo;s heart lit the room, giving it a warm and homey feel.</P> <P>&ldquo;Haven&rsquo;t been over in a whiles,&rdquo; said Marisa. &ldquo;Forgot how nice your places.&rdquo;</P> <P>I have a lot of junk, just as any magician does. But unlike some, I keep my home clean and organized. The front room was stacked with shelves and bookcases, all loaded full with odds and ends and worldly possessions. The biggest standout was my doll collection. I made most of them myself, collected a few from others. Only some of them were magically enchanted, and none were as intricate as Shanghai. </P> <P>Marisa went off, looking over my collections. She skipped past the shelves of dolls and went straight for the bookcase. She looked the titles over, seeing if any interested her. </P> <P>&ldquo;Shanghai,&rdquo; I said. &ldquo;Activate a few dolls and go make dinner. Make double portions. We have a guest to feed.&rdquo;</P> <P>&ldquo;Yes, Mistress.&rdquo; The doll finished lighting the sparklamps. She flew over to a shelf covered with other dolls, touched three of them one after another. They each glowed with red-orange light for a moment, then awoke and stood. They flew into the air alongside Shanghai, and the four of them floated off into the kitchen.</P> <P>&ldquo;And don&rsquo;t break anything!&rdquo; I called after them.</P> <P>&ldquo;Don&rsquo;t have trusts in the servants, huh?&rdquo; said Marisa. She slid a thin volume out of the bookcase, opened it and flipped through the pages.</P> <P>&ldquo;They&rsquo;re not servants.&rdquo; I took a seat on the couch, resting the <I>Automata </I>book in my lap. &ldquo;They&rsquo;re dumb dolls. They don&rsquo;t have minds like you or I do. Just programming.&rdquo; <BR> &ldquo;Then why like dolls so muches?&rdquo; Marisa sat down two cushions beside me. I eyed the book she had taken, and I laughed.</P> <P>&ldquo;<I>Safety in Magic</I>,&rdquo; I said. &ldquo;Borrow that one.&rdquo; </P> <P>Marisa smiled. &ldquo;Surelies. Only got so many houses to blow ups. Answer me nows?&rdquo;</P> <P>&ldquo;Answer you?&rdquo; I said. &ldquo;Oh, yes. My dolls. What can I say? They&rsquo;re just what I&rsquo;m good at. Why do you care?&rdquo; </P> <P>&ldquo;&lsquo;Cause we&rsquo;re both artists.&rdquo; </P> <P>&ldquo;Maybe,&rdquo; I said. &ldquo;But you could hardly equate our trades. I enchant self-animate objects. You deal with real-time evocation. There are no two fields in magic less related.&rdquo;</P> <P>&ldquo;Do different things, come from same places.&rdquo; Marisa leaned back against the armrest, putting her feet up on the couch. &ldquo;Musician writes a songs after he saw a beautiful paintings. Painter got inspirations to draw landscapes after reading good stories. Storyteller writes a huge books &lsquo;cause he liked some music he heards.&rdquo; She used her forefinger to draw a triangle shape in the air.</P> <P>&ldquo;So you hope the sorceress can learn from the automancer?&rdquo; I said. &ldquo;I doubt it. You&rsquo;re lucky. You never get stuck.&rdquo;</P> <P>Marisa smiled. &ldquo;Not stucks. Other problems, thoughs. Last summers, came up with a spells called Master Sparks. Best spell evers. Make as big a lasers you could ever wants. Raze half of Gensokyos with enough charge-up times. But really put it to tests when me and Reimus when to that mansions. Met some strong enemies theres. Master Sparks didn&rsquo;t work all the times, despite awesomeness. Made me realize wasn&rsquo;t so good a magicians as I thoughts.&rdquo;</P> <P>&ldquo;So?&rdquo; I said. &ldquo;You went back to the drawing board and started work on new spells. There&rsquo;s nothing wrong with trial and error.&rdquo; </P> <P>&ldquo;Depends,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;When person&rsquo;s life depends on trials, and dies because of errors, there&rsquo;s somethings a whole lot wrongs with thats. Gensokyo&rsquo;s a dangerous place to live sometimes. Gotta use wits and spells to stay alives. If either fails, could end up deads. Or worse, loved ones could dies. Couldn&rsquo;t live with myselves if lost you or Reimu &lsquo;cause of my dumbness.&rdquo; </P> <P>Marisa looked down, her eyes sad. Maybe she was telling the truth about last summer. Humans lie every day of their lives, but Marisa never faked her emotions. If she looked depressed, she had something to be depressed about.</P> <P>&ldquo;Well,&rdquo; I said. &ldquo;I don&rsquo;t know what to say. I don&rsquo;t have any wisdom to make you a better mage. All I can tell you is to do what you can, and let the rest tend to itself. Worrying will just make things worse.&rdquo;</P> <P>She looked up at me, and her sad face was gone. She smiled.</P> <P>&ldquo;Actually pretty good wisdoms right theres,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;Makes me feel betters. What about yous?&rdquo;</P> <P>I shook my head at her. It didn&rsquo;t take much to cheer her up. Humans were simple, especially this one. </P> <P>&ldquo;Nothing interesting,&rdquo; I said. &ldquo;Mage&rsquo;s block, is all. I must be doing something wrong, undermining the creative process somehow.&rdquo; I looked over the dolls on my shelves, trying to remember the act that brought each of them into being. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s strange. It&rsquo;s so easy at times. The art just comes to me, and making dolls feels as natural as breathing. I couldn&rsquo;t keep it inside even if I wanted to. The work must be done, so I do it.&rdquo; </P> <P>&ldquo;So what&rsquo;s different nows?&rdquo; </P> <P>&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t know. It&rsquo;s not coming like it used to. I took it for granted when I had it, but I only appreciate it now that it&rsquo;s gone. So I do everything I can to bring it back. I try to force it, coax it, wait for it, bargain with it. Nothing works. It comes on its own terms.&rdquo; I looked down, realized I had a white-knuckled grip on the <I>Automata </I>book. I made myself relax, took a deep breath. &ldquo;I just wish I knew what those terms were, so I could meet them. It&rsquo;s frustrating.&rdquo; </P> <P>&ldquo;Know just what you&rsquo;re sayings,&rdquo; said Marisa. &ldquo;Trying to opens lock with no keys. Banging your heads against a walls, hoping walls will give in firsts. Looking for an answer when yous don&rsquo;t know the questions.&rdquo; She sat up, leaned in on me. &ldquo;But maybe the answers is, there <I>is </I>no questions. No wall to knock downs, no lock to opens. Maybe it&rsquo;s all up heres.&rdquo; She tapped a finger against her temple. &ldquo;That&rsquo;s why you lose it soons as you start looking for its, &lsquo;cause you overlook the <I>one </I>place it really is.&rdquo; She pointed to me. &ldquo;Inside yous.&rdquo; </P> <P></P> <BR> <P>---</P> <P></P> <BR> <P>I was shocked. I didn&rsquo;t fully understand what Marisa was telling me, but it rang true. Had I been sabotaging myself this whole time? Looking for inspiration where there could be none? </P> <P>&ldquo;So,&rdquo; I said. &ldquo;You&rsquo;re saying, I won&rsquo;t find it until I stop searching for it. To keep it, I must let it go.&rdquo;</P> <P>Marisa leaned back against the armrest. &ldquo;Pretty much, yeahs. Worked good for me, anyways. Never have problems coming up with new spells, you&rsquo;ve noticed for sures. Probably &lsquo;cause I never stop to think about its, or try to make it something it&rsquo;s nots. Not saying I&rsquo;m betters than any other mages, thoughs. Plenty of problems in my own ways of doing things. Broken houses and everythings.&rdquo;</P> <P>&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t know,&rdquo; I said. &ldquo;I&rsquo;d rather make mistakes than be stagnant. Even when you fail, at least you&rsquo;re <I>doing</I> something. And you can learn from failures. That&rsquo;s far better than being unable to act.&rdquo; </P> <P>&ldquo;Sure feels that ways.&rdquo; </P> <P>Marisa was about to say something else, but her own stomach cut her off. A loud, growling gurgle came from her belly. She put a hand over her mouth, stuffing her laughter. </P> <P>&ldquo;Sorries,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;Pretty hungry over heres. Dolls gonna be done with dinner soons?&rdquo; </P> <P></P> <BR> <P>---</P> <P></P> <BR> <P>I&rsquo;ve made a habit of spending as little time as possible with humans. They talk about boring, mundane things. Many of them can&rsquo;t even read or write, and such uneducated heathens are not worth my time. Marisa was an exception. I&rsquo;m ashamed to admit it, but I enjoyed the evening she spent at my house.</P> <P>We talked about magic, among other things. We ate. We laughed. The night deepened, and it was soon time for bed. I got some blankets for Marisa to sleep on the couch, and then retired to my bedroom. I set Shanghai on the shelf and deactivated her. Then I undressed, got into my lacey nightgown, and climbed in between my overstuffed mattress and quilts. I wasn&rsquo;t sleepy yet, so I kept one lamp above my headboard lit. I planned to read some before dozing off. </P> <P>I sat back against the headboard, hefted the big <I>Automata </I>book into my lap. I flipped it open, past the title page, skipped the author&rsquo;s name, and began reading the preface.</P> <P CLASS="western" STYLE="margin-bottom: 0in"><BR> </P> <P><I>Automancy is a prestigious field in the magical arts. This prestige, no doubt, comes from the rarity of automancers, who are greatly outnumbered by common enchanters, cognators, evokers and basic spell casters. The automancer&rsquo;s trade is more closely equated to that of elementalism and summoning, only by the sheer talent required to be effective at the trade, necessarily causing practicing members to be infrequent and exceptional. </I> </P> <P><BR> </P> <P>All this I knew already.<I> </I>I skipped down a couple of paragraphs. </P> <P><BR> </P> <P><I>Even as powerful and useful as automancy can be in any given context, and even as mature as the art has become, much in the field remains to be explored and revealed by its most learned practitioners. This volume&rsquo;s author hopes to put forth a new paradigm, a new possible branch of study in the school of automancy. My own experiments in this school have had encouraging, albeit inconclusive, results. I can only hope to expand and evolve this new idea by opening it to other automancers and magicians of great talent. </I> </P> <P><I>This new hypothetical that I am referring to is, of course, the very core of this volume&rsquo;s subject matter. It comes from a logical development in the materials used to assemble automata. For as long as automancy has been, its members have gathered wood, stone, metal to upon which to enchant automations. These naturally occurring substances are effective as far as they go, but advanced study has begun to show the limit of their usefulness. Wood can only be bent so far before it splinters. Even stone crumbles under enough force. And metal will melt if overheated with an excess of magical power, possibly causing injury or death to automancers and their bystanders.</I></P> <P><I>The obstacle that automancy has come upon is born from taking existing material and infusing it with extraneous magical power, but what if we were to use such a material that contained magic from its very inception? Nature has already taken that step herself, in the life of the creatures we call </I>youkai.</P> <P><I>Many of mankind&rsquo;s advancements have come from mimicking and altering the processes that occur freely in nature. The waterfall is poured upon the water wheel, turning millstones to grind grain. Livestock are bred selectively, so that the best horses and cows are born, for men to ride and feed upon. Crops are sown in massive quantity and in controlled conditions, instead of being allowed to grow wild. I aim to take this same concept and apply it to automancy. I hope to show the reader my own advancements and research, combine it with his or her own, and create a new generation of automata that has life and power all its own, rather than only living on the power imparted from its master. In this way automancy shall become more &ldquo;auto&rdquo; than ever before, in that its creations truly shall be self motive&hellip;</I></P> <P><BR> </P> <P>I put the book down. I hadn&rsquo;t been breathing. I inhaled suddenly, and my heart pounded hard to make up for it. </P> <P>&ldquo;No,&rdquo; I said to myself. &ldquo;It can&rsquo;t be done.&rdquo; </P> <P>My mind raced from one thing to the next, desperately trying to prove me right. Yet the harder I thought about it, the more I realized it <I>could </I>be done. <I>Youkai</I> are just accumulations of magical energy. Even I had been formed from the natural powers in Gensokyo, given a mind and heart from vastly complicated threads of energy weaved together. </P> <P>Could I do the same? Take those energies and work them myself? Make my own <I>youkai</I> fairy out of them? </P> <P>I got out of bed and took Shanghai off the shelf. She was dormant, limp in my hands. I imagined what she might be like as flesh and blood, instead of an expressionless block of wood. She would be a real little girl, with her own voice and feelings. A girl who would follow me around the house, ask me what I was doing and why I was doing it. She would sit down and eat meals with me. Sit on my shoulder and lean against me as I read to her in bed. </P> <P>She would be my <I>daughter</I>. </P> <P>I squeezed the lifeless doll to my chest, and tears rolled down my cheeks. I trembled all over.</P> <P>&ldquo;I&rsquo;ll do it,&rdquo; I said. &ldquo;I have to do it.&rdquo;</P> <P></P> <BR> <P>---</P> <P></P> <BR> <P>&ldquo;Marisa!&rdquo; I called, rushing back into the front room. &ldquo;That book you gave me. It&rsquo;s&mdash;&rdquo;</P> <P>My words caught in my throat when I saw her. She sat on the couch, holding a kitchen knife in one hand. The other hand held a fistful of her hair, as if to hold her head in place. She sliced the blade towards her neck. </P> <P>She was more depressed than I had thought. I didn&rsquo;t understand, but I had no time to. I jumped forward, yanked the knife from her hand. I did <I>not </I>want a headless human girl on my couch. </P> <P>&ldquo;What are you doing!&rdquo; I yelled at her. </P> <P>She looked up at me, and I saw she had been crying. Her eyes were puffy and red, her cheeks wet. </P> <P>&ldquo;My house,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;Really screwed up this times. Don&rsquo;t know what I&rsquo;m gonna doos.&rdquo;</P> <P>&ldquo;That&rsquo;s no reason to kill yourself!&rdquo; I said. &ldquo;If you&rsquo;re that upset about it, you can sleep here until your place is fixed. But no suicide attempts!&rdquo; I waggled the knife at her like a scolding mother. </P> <P>&ldquo;Suicides?&rdquo; said Marisa, blinking her eyes dry. Then she smiled, and laughed. &ldquo;Silly Alices! Trying to cut my <I>hair</I>, not my necks. Pretty upset about wrecking my houses, but never want to dies. Too many books to reads. Too many spells to casts.&rdquo;</P> <P>I relaxed, letting the knife rest at my side. &ldquo;Cut your hair?&rdquo;</P> <P>&ldquo;Read about its,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;Girls supposed to cut hairs when heart brokens. Usually &lsquo;cause got dumped by some boys, but since <I>that&rsquo;s</I> never happening, losing houses is next best things.&rdquo; </P> <P>I shook my head. &ldquo;You&rsquo;re strange, Marisa. You had me worried.&rdquo;</P> <P>&ldquo;Sorries. What was it wanted to tell mees? About that books?&rdquo;</P> <P>&ldquo;Nothing,&rdquo; I said. &ldquo;Listen. If you want a haircut, let&rsquo;s do it right. I built Shanghai with some personal care routines, like doing my nails and massaging my shoulders.&rdquo;</P> <P>&ldquo;Dolly-girls is a barber toos?&rdquo; </P> <P>&ldquo;Of course.&rdquo; I flipped my hair at her. &ldquo;It only looks this good through constant care.&rdquo; </P> <P></P> <BR> <P>---</P> <P></P> <BR> <P>I had Shanghai give Marisa a haircut. We stayed up late into the night, talking and laughing as we had been since Marisa came over. I felt happier than I had in a long time. I knew, once I was done caring for my friend, there was important work to be done. </P> <P>Pruned and washed, Marisa eventually fell asleep on the couch. I didn&rsquo;t take her example. I had never felt less like sleeping. I went back into the workshop, the <I>Automata </I>book under one arm. Shanghai hovered along behind me.</P> <P>&ldquo;It&rsquo;s very late, Mistress,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;Isn&rsquo;t it time for bed?&rdquo;</P> <P>&ldquo;For you, it is.&rdquo; I turned and grabbed her out of the air, sat her down on the workbench. I set aside the notes I had been working on earlier, pulled out a fresh pad of sketch paper. I laid <I>Automata</I> on the bench, ready to use it as a reference. </P> <P>&ldquo;Mistress?&rdquo; said Shanghai.</P> <P>&ldquo;Don&rsquo;t worry,&rdquo; I said. &ldquo;You&rsquo;ll rest for a while. When you wake again, you may not remember yourself as you are now. But it won&rsquo;t matter. You&rsquo;ll be more.&rdquo;</P> <P>&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t understand, Mistress. Is there something I must do?&rdquo;</P> <P>&ldquo;No.&rdquo; I put a finger to her forehead, sent a small pulse of energy into her. It triggered her deactivation instruction. She collapsed back on the bench in a pile of bent doll joints.</P> <P>&ldquo;I&rsquo;ll do all the work,&rdquo; I said. &ldquo;You only need to do what you&rsquo;ve always done. Be yourself. Sometimes that wasn&rsquo;t enough. But that was my fault, not yours.&rdquo; </P> <P>I sat down, pulled out a pencil and got to work. I charged into it headlong. I had to make up for lost time, time wasted looking for my art in places where it couldn&rsquo;t be found. </P> <P>I hoped to redeem myself, even if all I could do was pour myself into the work I love. </P> <hr width="25%"> <BR> <center> </font> <font size="2"> <a href="../storiesnav.html" target="B">Back to Stories Index</i></a></P> </font> <BR> <script type="text/javascript"><!-- google_ad_client = "pub-5839901839913433"; /* Main Ad */ google_ad_slot = "5872891806"; google_ad_width = 728; google_ad_height = 90; //--> </script> <script type="text/javascript" src="http://pagead2.googlesyndication.com/pagead/show_ads.js"> </script> </BODY> </HTML>