✦ ⋮ ASTRAL FLARE .

a homunculus created from the fragments of a fallen star by ambitious alchemists.  is thus a lean, mean, mana-making machine.  however, a huge flaw is just how much of that mana gets burned off, so replenishing it consists of eating stars or anything else high in magickal energy.  ( yes, magicks )

forced into the role of ‘executor’ and combats monsters and other abandoned alchemic creations by beating them and then eating them━━  basically mindlessly cleaning up after the queendom’s messes and mistakes, which cycles into more messes and mistakes.

uh oh, sisters ! *gains independence and becomes a part of a homunculus revolution*

hello, it seems you’ve just dropped a new emotion.  please explain it to me in excruciating detail of why and how you feel that way while i try to mimic you.

really, is still trying to understand the complexities of humans and their emotions.  if he’s going to be laden with this baggage, then he wants to live a fulfilling life too :(

does that ghibli hair-thing when showing interest in something.  books / libraries and unique experiences happen to be included in a tragically short list. 

he’s only lived for like 8 years, most of which was spent without a sense of self.  cut some slack.

also likes fire.  a lot.

So he did realize the truth about the kind of system that he was forced to be a part of. Even as a construct he was able to transcend mere coding and direction he was given by his creators. She knew what it was like to be in that position. Half-elf or construct, it didn’t matter. So many people across different worlds were stuck trying to survive in a system that abused those thought to be of lower class and importance. 

But wait…? Sustenance? Altair had to resort to cannibalism of these older constructs in order to survive? He said it so offhandedly to be a shock to her system. All she could do for a moment was stay still in silence with her mouth slightly agape. 

“What would I have felt…?” She repeated slowly. Altair clearly struggled to understand the emotions of mortals–it was a bit ironic that he found himself talking to someone who felt she always had way too many. Where to even begin…?

“…Grief, for one. The loss of any life, to take away one’s future is a heavy burden to bear. Guilt, for another. The question of whether or not you had a choice in the matter, or if things could have been different had a different course been taken. Anger, at the system that made it possible or necessary to end a life. Perhaps even…strangely though it may seem, thankfulness…gratitude? At the life taken to be able to sustain you and carry you to the future. Mortal emotions are quite complicated you see–People are complicated. We often have emotions that completely contradict each other. Things are not black and white. There will always be uncertainty. Cause and effect. Unintended consequences to our actions.”

“I ... suppose,”   Altair says slowly, hesitantly, as he does not quite understand at all.  The allure of gaining some insight into the social system had easily swept him in.  And yet: grief, guilt, anger, and gratitude━━  a medley of impressions the homunculus barely has a grasp of.  So how can a person feel this spectrum of emotions at once? 

‘Things are not black and white.’   Raine’s words resonate again, reminding him of the complexities of the human mind. 

“... It’s that sort of complication that makes it so difficult to understand people.  I begin to believe that it is simply beyond my comprehension.”

His eyebrows shift minutely, creating a furrow in the middle as his gaze returns to the fossil, still speckled with sea spray.  Of course, worlds of magic and nature are much easier to discern with strict rules and compounds.  But that may only be because he is suspended somewhere in between the two. 

“ And then you gather herbs as well? “ he asks but continues without waiting for an answer:

“ I have no firsthand experience but I’ve read they’re rather bad tempered creatures…  You must have threaded on their property. “

They didn’t seem like the type to be asking questions so it’s natural they’d be prone to overkills as well. It’d do good to study more of them it seems. He ought to head to the library after this, loan some books 

However, it turns out it’s not the time to think about that now. Hearing of the condition of the arm Seiichirou frowns. He doesn’t know what’s about to happen to the arm but it doesn’t sound good.

“ Say that first! “ Seiichirou scolds Altair as he hurries to grab a few of them, “which one of these is it? “

“I don’t know...”   Altair starts, his voice wavering with doubt.  His eye sweeps through the vials gathered, these looking no different than the ones on display.  But that’s the thing about potions and brews:  there is no indication of what their contents fulfill unless labeled.  And, whatever scrawl used to identify them mean nothing to Altair;  the bottles are merely regarded as a muddled mix of mana.

“Perhaps it’s this one?”   A random flask is lifted from Seiichirou’s hand into his own, left at the mercy of chance.  

Now, should he ingest it or pour it over his afflicted arm?  How does this concoction even work?  Altair eyes the potion, considering his options.  Some small part of him wishes Mariela was here ( again ), that maybe she can help.  But, unfortunately, the cork is unscrewed with a hearty pop, silencing that hope as Altair lifts the bottle and drinks the potion without further thought or reason.  

A hiccup tears through him before he doubles over, feeling new threads of spellwork spooling in his chest.  Frantic that it might be affecting his heart, Altair loosens his collar, pulls at his tie and clothing to expose his torso, which is now in the process of growing a light crop of reddish hair. 

Primitive homonculi may start out as golems… So that would mean that it would theoretically be possible for those in the Martel Temple to take on a more human appearance after years of research. The implications of that kind of science were worrisome, but Altair himself seemed so mild mannered. Just as organic people, one’s values were instilled in them from their surroundings, and she was the last person to judge someone based on their origins. She was merely fascinated.

But the truth became more muddled…something a bit more disconcerting. He spoke it as if it were his duty. Measured. Calm. He was tasked by the ones who made him to kill those that no longer served his purpose. Instead of them taking the responsibility and doing it themselves. Killing one of your own kind– Raine would never forget how sick she felt having done the same. But to be told that was your job? Your purpose…?

“…It is different.” She grew quiet, trying to figure out how to put her feelings into words. She sat on the sand and carefully touched the edge of one of the fossils, being sure to only handle where there was not part of the actual impression of the creature. “They were like you, were they not? You must have found some kinship with them. They had enough conscience to divert from the rules of their creation. You do as well, don’t you? Despite no longer being bound to your world’s social structure you continue to live and make decisions. I don’t mean to say this to make you feel terrible. Many of us have harmed or killed others because they were afforded little other choice. Even if the constructs that had went errant were less complex… there is some similarity in their origin.” 

She still wasn’t entirely sure if the constructs he was referring to were also classified as homonculi… But like herself, even giving them a different name, the Desians were also half-elves. For her it was hard to come to grips that they were part of the same caste. For so long she refused to acknowledge it. Raine retracted her hand from the fossil. “An animal like this is much less complex. They don’t have to struggle with social structure, justice, philosophy, right and wrong. It’s enviable.”

As she voices her reasoning, Altair remains silent, his doubts waxing into a spreading numbness within those taut seconds.  Any trace of excitement left over their discovery dissipates like seafoam, and in its place is a missing sense of expression that he cannot name.  It troubles him so that when Altair opens his mouth to speak, no words could follow.  

What could even be said?  He has to take a moment to contemplate a proper response before delicately approaching.

“In time, I did find kinship,”   he starts, lowering himself to his knees.   “... We share an origin and semblance in anatomy, after all.  Yet, those constructs were abandoned subjects, seeking a new purpose.”   And yet, the value in their cores was immeasurable.  The alchemists would never allow finite resources to freely wander the fields without use.  Such is a bitter and endless cycle of their creations.   “There were moments I felt a strange sadness━ but I, too, had little choice.  My own existence depended on their end, by mandate and sustenance.” 

Most regrettable is the fact that he can vividly recall the encounters as thrilling.  Would that change now?  He doesn’t know.  But this was no plea to excuse his actions nor the role bestowed upon him, merely a factual statement. 

“If that’s true, living in this ward isn’t bad at all.” Setsuna was fairly sure she couldn’t see them through the windows of her home (otherwise she’d just managed to miss them), but there was no one to stop her from checking things out from her roof.

Tomorrow.

“I’ve seen fireworks before, but not very many.” She dropped into a thoughtful silence. At last, the difference occurred to her. “They seem a little quieter than what I remember. I, for one, don’t mind that.” The appeal was supposed to be the visuals, wasn’t it? Were there people out there that liked them for the noise?

“You seem to really like them. Have you come out to see many of the shows?” she asked. That might’ve been her, if she’d been around earlier in the month. 

“Oh, yes!  I have visited here every night since, actually,”   he says quite boldly.  From the first moment he has witnessed the summer sky alight with colors, it naturally became a habit to visit this very spot.  As always, anything that touches on the mysteries of fire and magick ( or what seems like magick ) sharpens his interest, child-like at its core. 

Only seconds later, Altair falls into a shy disposition, realizing the absurdity of such a declaration.  A clawed hand rises to hide the edges of a sheepish smile.  “Um, that is a little embarrassing to admit ... you see, it is because of the many shapes that every show feels new.”

He also happens to have a lot of time on his hands.

Well, Caroline never looked like she made mistakes. But maybe that was just how all aristocrats were raised; to pretend like they didnt. Oh well. Mariela was comfortable being her sloppy pedestrian self.

“Oh! That’s all! Phew.” She felt better for a moment, but when he moved his head to emphasize his scar, Mariela’s smile seemed to tinge with a hint of nervousness. Of course that must have hurt much more than a step on the foot…but that scar was something he had because of the alchemists of his world, right? They hadn’t ever really…talked about it though, so maybe it was unrelated. A question lingered behind her tongue, but she felt guilty to even bring it up at a time like this. Instead she focused on her footing for a moment, hoping that her complicated expression could still be attributed to her dancing skills.

“Of course! We’re friends, aren’t we?” From what he told her at the Star Trail, he considered her to be his first friend. That told her that he didn’t really have anyone care to ask him these kinds of questions. “Reading and exploring…The Herbs Division sure would have loved to have you in their ranks.” She gave a short laugh. But that wasn’t all, right? “There’s no shortage of legends around here with everyone coming from different places. I bet if you asked around to the customers they’d talk your ears off.  But… hm…maybe there’s something you’d really enjoy doing that you just haven’t tried yet! There’s gotta be some classes and workshops around this place. Let’s try to find some that sound interesting!”

Mariela took one of the stars from Altair and chewed thoughtfully. For a candied fruit it had a surprisingly sour aftertaste. She honestly hadn’t really thought about her hobbies until now. “Huh…now that you ask I’m afraid that most of my hobbies I already do in my job. I like cooking and baking, and traveling like you to look for potion ingredients. And I always like experimenting to see what new things I can make, like soaps and makeup and other stuff. I kind of just sell all of my hobbies away so other people get to enjoy them too. I’ve done some basket weaving and thrown a lot of tea parties. I’ve tried sewing and embroidering but I’m nowhere near good enough to call it a pastime. But ah…man that’s boring isn’t it?!” Was she now just realizing that everything she loved doing just made her sound married to her work?!

“I don’t think it is boring at all!  In fact, I find you to be very fascinating ...”   He admits with a modest smile, his interest bare.  He often drifts about with his head full of legends and fancy, seeking telltale flourishes of human artistry that leave him hungry for more.  At heart, it makes him comparable to alchemists keen on filling their vast well of knowledge.  

On the other hand, Mariela is leagues away, with passions that also benefit others, making her far more thrilling━  passions he wishes to share.  So it seems essential to memorize what she enjoys, especially because they are friends.

Enthralled by her feats, Altair finally raises the candied fruit and sets it upon his tongue, solely to be disappointed that it was only star-shaped and utterly tasteless; a drab reminder of his plight.  His mouth draws into a flat line as he longs towards the ballroom’s exit.

“I know the museum is providing workshops that explore creatives pursuits.  But, do you think I can ...”   Her previous words weigh on his mind, shaping themselves into the question.  Altair twines his claws together, unsure how to string together the next set of words.  It feels as if he would be infringing on activity beyond his capabilities.  But, then, the music begins again, a cacophony of instruments that disrupt his line of thinking. 

Though Seiichirou like his work without interruptions he can’t keep frowning at Altair’s hesitation forever. As much as paperwork has to be done he can’t say colleague in trouble is any less of a concern. 

When shown the webbed hand Seiichirou’s eyes go round in curiosity. He even leans a little closer for a second but no longer than that. Seiichirou can’t say he know anything about curses but as frail as the webs seem moving them wouldn’t be easy. If it was then there’d be no point to it. Altair probably already tried obvious options anyway.

“ I see… Yes. I do, of course. “

“ I hear the fairies in Cotes Ward sometimes play tricks like this. Is this their doing? “

He’s read quite a lot on the said Ward, especially since he’s rather avoid visiting it. If he ever ended up their on business or by accident then at least he’d know how to keep out of danger.

“ Don’t you help the manager with the potions? Let’s see the shop cabinets first.”

He only remembers that now since he’s no longer got his nose at paper work.

“I once assisted her with glass-making, but I am no longer assigned to that duty.  Now I simply manage the garden in the backyard.”   In addition to delegating time━ his own time━ finding plants and herbs that Mariela might deem necessary.  It is a task out of his own volition and applied with quiet diligence after seemingly bonding with the nature behind the shop.

Altair falls into step behind Seiichirou;  his gaze still rapt over the webbing.  He mindlessly picks at the whorl, noting the lack of sensation climbing further up the afflicted limb.  It’s almost as if the snares were restricting not only movement but absorbing mana as well━  which happens to spur both curiosity and worry. 

“Do you ... believe this to be a mere game for them?  I did not think pixies would react so negatively over herbs ...”   Of course, this is within reason.  Perhaps those plants were the property of the pixie in question.  He should’ve known better than to encroach on their territory, regardless of what lies there.  Apologies must be given at a later date.  For now, the curse-removal potions are a priority.

Raine readies her camera and takes a few photos of the slabs together, attempting to get some at different angles so that she can compare the amount that they raise from the surface.

“So the world you come from is another that runs on the use of mana. Fascinating. There are so many magic sources present here in the city.” But bone absorbing more mana over time…she’d never heard of that research being conducted in either Sylvarant and Tethe’alla. The oldest creatures that she knew of that existed on her planet were the protozoans, so she began to wonder if there was some way to test how different levels of mana effected them. Perhaps it had something to do with how they supposedly evolved over the course of their lives? 

The rest of his explanation made sense to her, if bones contained mana then crushing them would probably make it a dissolvable form of magic to be used in potions and ceremonies. It would probably allow alchemists to be able to properly measure in a fine powder, or perhaps could be used like a magical gunpowder. 

“Altair, you are a construct?!” Raine’s eyes lit up, that revelation completely overshadowing the appearance of the fossils. “A being created in the image of a human using alchemy, I’ve read you would call that a homonculus? The closest we would have would have to be clay and rock golems or summon spirits. Artificially created spirits often take on a more bestial form.” But right before she would overstep and suggest doing some tests, the professor would go quiet as he said the last part. 

“A tool…?” The professor’s excited visage fell almost immediately. Being used as a tool to further the research of magic…just like the fate that would have befallen the Sages if they had not fled to Sylvarant. “How…exactly do you mean?”

“Oh, yes!  The most primitive of homunculi were originally golems or beast-like, though unstable.”   And every subsequent design carefully led into the image of humans, though the properties of clay and rock remain the same.  To think that even guarded practices of alchemy span across many worlds.  Perhaps magick has a set of universal rules.

Altair nods along, mimicking the professor’s enthusiasm until it was no more.  It feels like a sudden cold draft, a drastic tilt in the air that brings him to a slow pause.  A blankness shrouds his countenance as he tries to analyze the change.

“... Homunculi are like any other tool in an alchemist’s archive---  serving to assist and advance their prowess,”   he explains carefully.   “However, because my ... generation, so to say, is more versatile than previous creations, we are also tasked with other duties that fall within an alchemist’s command.”   Altair splays a clawed hand before him.  “I, for example, was assigned a role that typically guarded humans by scouring for errant constructs, stripping them of their mana.”

The words trail off into silence, letting the information sit between them as he observes Raine with a cautious gaze.  This is merely a scratch on the surface, for the system runs far deeper than he can say.  Having already disclosed this much, continuing the line of questioning cannot do any more harm.  But Altair is wary of the thoughts the professor may be considering.

“Ah, yes. I wouldn’t call us acquaintances, but I was a customer in her shop before!” Well… was he really a customer though, when he didn’t end up buying a thing? It didn’t matter, for now this explanation would do!

Once the other inched closer, Sou could feel some kind of uneasy feeling coming up. Ah, he already expected this… It wasn’t about the innocent sounding stranger though, it just has been… a long while since he allowed himself to be on any picture again. But pettiness really brought him this far, huh? Amazing…

“Just be natural, and look towards my phone, alright?” Just after saying that, he reached his phone upwards, so the camera could easily catch the both into the picture. 

“Don’t worry too much, just smile or… do whatever feels the most natural to you. If you won’t like the result, we can also retake it, you know!”

So he allowed himself to take the picture. Then with a content smile, he proceeded to check the photo just taken. Ah yes, his grin definitely brought the feeling across he wanted Mariela to see. This would make her mad, good. 

Once he made sure of that, he handed his phone to his so called new ‘friend’ he still didn’t know the name of. 

“So… uh, by the way, what’s your name? You can just call me Sou! Oh and, how do you like it? Want anything changed?”

Just be natural, they say, but ‘natural’ meant standing stock-still, expression slack.  To which Altair blinks in return but does not protest and eases into said position, despite the strange request.  But the other seems to have remedied the suggestion with something much more agreeable, so he lightly nods and does as told.

With a modest smile, the homunculus looks at the raised phone in time when the photo is taken. 

“My name is Altair,”   he says as he accepts the device, surveys the photo, and is satisfied with the result.  They are both centered within the rectangular frame and expressing a degree of friendliness;  what more could be asked for?   “This is pleasant as is, Sou.  I do not think we need to change it.”

“They’re quite valuable in evolutionary research as well. If you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to take a few pictures of it and draw a few diagrams before you take it along with you, Altair. With so many worlds converging into this one place I can’t be so sure that it’s native to Spirale. However, it still may be useful nonetheless.” You never really knew which clues and bits of information would lead you to finding a piece to a puzzle you were working on. And if any of these really were native to Spirale, Raine would at least be able to gather more information on its history.

“Oh my, you’re right! But the size is different so it must have been another of the same species. It looks like this area must have been underwater at one point, and sediment must have hardened over the area where these creatures commonly made their habitat. To find so many in one place…perhaps these are native after all!” Raine clapped her hands together in excitement. For as much as she hated being near the ocean, there was no denying just how much one could learn from the animals that inhabited it. 

“How is it that bones are used in alchemy? I know it may be difficult to explain to someone who isn’t versed in the practice, but I am interested to know. It seems like your methods and Mariela’s are a bit different.” As for her… well… the alchemist wasn’t exactly the best teacher. Raine had asked a few times how her magic worked, and she had explained it vaguely as if talking to someone who already knew the processes.

“Oh, that is an interesting theory.”   Though simple in retrospection, he didn't consider other creatures being washed up on the shores of Spirale, too.  The idea may not apply to these fossils, but it still brings a new sense of wonder to what the city offers.  How badly he wanted to comb the rest of the beach now!

Altair heaves the slabs closer to dry land and aligns them together for Raine’s observation.

“From my understanding, bones, as they are, absorb the mana around them as an osseous vessel.  Years of exposure create denser concentrations;  thus, ancient remains are highly sought for ...”   Yet, the possibilities of encountering such an occurrence is rare enough, further increasing their value.  He lets a hand drift absentmindedly over the fossils.  As expected, these are devoid of any mana, possibly long filtered back into the land and sea.

“These bones can then be utilized for potent spells, ground up for powders, or enchanted to give life to constructs━  such as myself,”   Altair continues, only to startle upon realizing that too much has been said.  The alchemic advances and works of Lucent were kept secrets, not to be shared with just anyone.  He draws his brows together, hoping these facts do not spread beyond the professor.

“No kidding? You think so?!” That was enough of an ego-booster for her! She was glad that he could start to enjoy himself here. Mariela knew that he was a pretty serious guy. At work he was always so deep in concentration trying to get the right methods of extraction for each new herb and ingredient, or learning about new alchemic processes. Seeing him laugh was what really made the night special for her.

And just when she thought she might have been getting the hang of it–that maybe she wasn’t such a fumbling disaster– Mariela’s stride was too long compared to his, and her foot fell squarely on his boot. It seemed like she was only good at this dance if she could concentrate on every little step she took.

“I’m so sorry! Are you okay?” And now they were getting looks of amusement from a bunch of fancy people who clearly knew what they were doing.

“I knew I wasn’t cut out for this kind of party…ehehe. Drat… Sieg was right. I’d have never made it as an aristocrat.” It wasn’t like her to be so hard on herself after trying something once and failing, but failing in public was something else entirely. She stepped back and bit her lip, staring at his foot. She doubted it was bad enough to need a healing potion, but she still felt bad. “I’m still having a good time, I promise! ” Great, now the music went quiet as the instruments began transitioning to a different song, so she tried extra hard not to draw attention to herself. “What about you, Altair? We’re always so busy with the shop that we don’t get to talk about stuff like what you like to do outside of it all that often.”

“Even aristocrats make mistakes━ don’t worry, Mariela, I am fine.”   Her worries catch like fire, though he does not understand why if she is enjoying the time.  So, Altair tries to reassure the alchemist with a placid smile.  After all, the pressure in his foot was gone in the span of a breath.   “I was only surprised at the misstep.  My pain is minute.”  

Altair tips his head at an angle, hoping to make a point with the starburst scar over his left eye.  

“... Oh, does that mean you wish to know more about me?”   He quickly shifts his posture into a mimicry of thought, claws pressed to his lips.  It’s strange considering himself in a deeper sense, for there is little to say.  But that simply means the answers are readily apparent; he only hopes they do not disappoint Mariela.   “Well, I do not have past-times, as most humans do.  But I enjoy reading and exploring when idle.  Legends and histories are delightful!  ... I don’t suppose that counts, does it?”

A server cuts in, offering them both a tray of candied fruits shaped like miniature stars━  of which Altair gestures to before plucking two off the gold platter. 

@nullprozent​​​  said:    "Ack! Don't feed the seagulls!"

“━━Why not?”   He asks, genuinely confused.  A large pack of seagulls gathers around Altair, each desperate to grab the chips he’s tossing their way in a flurry of wings and beaks.  Though aggressive at times, the gulls are still animals.  So, why should he not feed them?  

One even perches upon Altair’s head, giving Sou a seemingly challenging look, daring him to approach and put an end to their delight.  

@alchemistwhosurvived​​​  said:   "The coral reef is so beautiful, come snorkeling with me!"

“I would be happy to join you, but ...”   Altair’s voice trails off as his gaze turns towards the sea warily.   The corals are, indeed, beautiful, and he longs to observe them up close.  Yet, the thought of being submerged beneath the waves brings him to a full stop.  Water glistens over human skin;  a golem made of earth and fire, however, will surely last mere minutes before yielding.