“Caelum and Polus are unmatched in terms of their military and territorial size, but that does not mean they are the only ones to exist in the western lands. There are also smaller groups: nomadic tribes, minor provinces, and various hubs where those who identify not with the two nations choose to settle. They are vestiges of the old world, passing on cultures long forgotten, and spend their days without want or need for greater longing. They are content here, living whilst out of sight.

  “That all changed with the imperial campaign.”

  - Understanding the Wider World: Penned by Arch Magus Faust, Ruler of the Augurium Thaumaturgy

  ———

  The Knight

  The world has changed, after that fateful day. The Knight no longer lives among the Polus. The cobblestone streets adorned in flowers, the high brick rooftops and warm buildings illuminated under the gleaming rays of sunlight, and the hardy people who treasured the day with all their hearts… those memories still linger, especially of a certain man who has taught it to love and cherish again.

  But that time is no longer. The Knight does not know what has become of the kingdom after Ascalon’s death. It has seen their retreat, their bitter spirits after the lost of their leader and their failure to take over the Caelum capital, but what became of them next - it has purposely avoided, lest guilt threaten to blind its true objective.

  The child: Aegis. The little boy who once could lay atop its head has now grown plump. The fetters of Creation have fed him, nurtured him during his slumber, and it is only recently that he has finally awakened—attuned to the first Will he must collect.

  During his long dream, the Knight remembers taking him toward the tribes that still-yet lived in the mountaintops. They were recluses, remnants of a defeated people who refused to conform with the new power called Polus, and so they hid themselves away where neither man nor beast could find them. Avalonians they called themselves, clinging to a name long vanished to whispers. They were a people who knew full well the pains of being chased away, and so when the Engineer came with a babe in hand, they welcomed it despite its unknown background.

  There it stayed for the months to come. The child slept, while its guardian waited. Nox Caelum had closed off its walls and recalled the legionary hordes - their warmongering expansion could no longer advance after the damage suffered during the invasion. A period of reconstruction began along with a tighter, and more rigid, system of enforcement.

  The Knight could have relied on Satanael to sneak it inside, but in order to gain the trust and rise as one of Caelum’s upper elite, it needed to be admitted into the nation officially. Only then would the opportunity arrive for it to discover the Grand General’s secret - the method by which he called forth a Star.

  Eventually the city was rebuilt, the army recovered once more, and so their raids began anew. The Avalonians were no exception - even far away in their solitude did they fail to avoid the empire’s insatiable lust for manpower.

  All those events lead now to the present: here, with a groggy Aegis in tow and an envelope in its hands signifying their new identities as Caelum citizens.

  Oshka… it muses to itself while walking along a tight, harsh corridor of metal and dim artificial light. A beast is sealed within that man. Why is one so powerful working as a menial clerk?

  Its footsteps echo throughout the hall. It is tight here, with scarcely enough room for a person to pass, and the occasional droplet of grease falls from the ceiling - causing the floor to cling to its boots in a sticky, grimy puddle. The Knight can feel the disparity between the two nations quite keenly: from the colors, to the ambience, and even the odor—a pungent, almost, acidic smog that burns the nostrils. A normal soul would have gagged, but fortunately it has had the foresight to weaken its sense of smell beforehand.

  One tiny individual, however, does not.

  “Yuck,” Aegis huffs, pinching his nose with his tiny fingers. The child has developed enough to say simple words - stringing along sentences though still proves to be a challenge for him. “Ew.”

  It laughs. “You don’t need to endure it if the smell bothers you. Try asking Creation nicely for its help.”

  “Dunno.”

  “Would you like me to tell you how?”

  “No.”

  The child becomes strangely stubborn at times like these. The Knight wonders where he gets it from, but it isn’t bothered. It’s better for him to learn how to solve his way through problems now rather than become too reliant on others later. He needs to be adaptable. Plans don’t always go as one expects - such is a lesson it knows very well.

  After racking his little head for a few minutes, Aegis manages to dispel the smog with a harsh “Go away!” and a wave of his hand. It works for a moment, but simply clearing it once won’t be enough, as Aegis soon begrudgingly finds out. He tries a few other approaches, and then subsequently turns crankier with each failed attempt.

  He does succeed, eventually. With a deep suck of his breath, he forms a small bubble in his hand and then shoves it up his nose. The Knight doesn’t know exactly what that accomplished, but it seems to have worked. Aegis turns toward it with a big smile full of pride.

  “Hold,” he says, stretching out his arms and waiting to be comforted. The Knight obliges and scoops him up, patting his back for a job well done, before continuing through the hall.

  After some time, the two reach a chamber filled with a busy rush of people - both native and foreign alike. Countless gateways lay at the far end, branching out to different sections of the city, and a booth with the words ‘Immigration Checkpoint’ carved atop in metal sheets. A line has already formed in front of it.

  Except it’s less of a line and more a gargantuan, snaking procession far too large than it should be. At this rate, it will take hours before the two can even reach the counter.

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  The Knight could practically see the despair in Aegis’s eyes. His body falls limp, and he puffs his cheeks as if to protest the wait. Blegh, his voice rings in its mind. How long?

  Likely not for a while, child, it replies back. Let us train our patience, hm?

  Ugh.

  The child crosses his arms and pouts, but doesn’t complain any further. He looks just about to resign himself to another few hours of boredom… when something quite interesting happens.

  A passing officer glances at the envelope in its hand and stops. “Oh? That’s rare. Looks like you’ve been approved for an interview.”

  It smiles and greets the man humbly - can’t have anyone suspecting it now. “Yes, I’m hoping to be accepted as an engineer.”

  “Engineer, eh? That’s a cushy gig: congrats. But what’re you doing here?”

  “Pardon?”

  The officer points to a different line farther up. Unlike the harsh steel flooring tiled below, red carpets are laid under a roped section of dividers and fanciful ribbons. “There’s your line over there; this one’s only for the Freedman. Folks like you get a nice ticket to the front.”

  “Oh, I see. Thank you!”

  The man chuckled and tipped his hat. “No problem, just walk right up and the clerks will get you all settled in. Take care, friend, and welcome to Nox Caelum.”

  He left, and soon blended in with the crowd. How curious: the people of this nation have been nothing but cordial thus far. It is certainly not what the Engineer has expected considering the empire’s reputation.

  It follows the officer’s directions and makes its way to the other section. There aren’t many people here, so the two are quickly shuffled to the very top of the queue - very convenient. A wait that would have taken the entire day has been reduced to merely a few minutes.

  Soon, a sharply dressed woman serving as the clerk beckons them over. Her face looks as gaunt as the dead, but she soon brightens up after seeing the little Aegis wave at her.

  “Hello,” he says, hitting her straight in the heart with his innocence.

  “Why hello to you, too!” she replies, breaking out into a grin. “Your child is such a sweetheart, sir. May I have your papers?”

  “Of course.” The Engineer gives her the envelope, which is quickly taken and inspected with great speed. The people of this land are oddly proficient in these mundane skills - although it’s perhaps born out of repetition rather than actual need.

  “Alright, looks like everything’s in order,” the clerk says, marking the envelope with yet another stamp. She also hands over a slip with the number ‘62’ written in small print. “You see those black doors over there? There should be some chairs in front of it. Just take a seat and wait for them to call up your number.”

  “Thank you,” it says, before joining yet another wait. The Knight cannot help but be overwhelmed by the sheer number of procedures and excess regulations required just to enter the city. It doesn’t remember anything like this in the countries of its past - some didn’t even require a form of identification to be considered a citizen.

  Fortunately, it doesn’t take long before its number is called out. A few guards approach to verify its identity before giving permission to enter. “Proceed to room 439 B,” they say. The numbers are starting to all blur together with how many, and frequently, they’re assigned.

  After walking through, yet another, winding passageway, the Knight arrives at the mentioned room. It opens the door and walks in.

  “Ah, you must be the next candidate. Mister Calason, I presume?”

  A new man wearing a long, white coat with the emblem of a corvid stitched onto the sleeve greets it from behind a rough grey table. Unlike the others, this one looks more refined - a bit haughty. He has a gaze that seems to naturally look down on others, albeit subtly, and he maintains that very air as the Knight sits down in front of him.

  “That is correct,” it says.

  “I see. Well, Mister Calason, I must warn you in advance that the screening for engineers is a bit more difficult than for the other, more physically grueling, occupations. We have to think flexibly here - be creative. I can see judging by your… shall we say build that being a laborer would not be a great fit, so I can understand wishing to enter our department. Even so, we don’t go easy on anyone, even for those with children. You’ll have to prove yourself if you want to be one of us.”

  “Then prove I shall. What must I do?”

  The examiner lays out a few sheets of paper, as well as a writing tool. “We’ll start with a couple of tests. Don’t worry: it’s designed so that even those who can’t read should be able to complete it. Just follow the arrows.”

  For the next hour, the Knight busies itself with the examination. The content of the papers are quite curious: some seem to test it on its visual perception, showing images of shapes with subtle differences and asking to find the differences, while others lean more towards working memory, spatial depth, logical reasoning, and even imagination. It is, technically, possible for one with no academic tutelage to complete it, but in the eyes of a sheltered Avalonian with little knowledge of the outside world, such content would seem little more than scribbles.

  Fortunately, it has a slight advantage. Being millions of years old does have its benefits every now and then.

  “Time’s up,” the examiner says, taking the papers. “Let’s see here… would you look at that: perfect scores all around. Very impressive. I thought you Avalonians to be a primitive bunch, but it looks like there are some worth teaching after all.”

  What a strange thing to say towards someone’s face.

  “No complaints here. Let’s move onto the final test.”

  The examiner reaches below and pulls out a bizarre-looking apparatus. The thing is connected by a series of wires, all contained within a metal box, with switches and valves that lead to a tear-dropped shaped glass in the center. “This here’s an electric bulb. The design’s a bit archaic, but it does the trick - great for testing people’s intelligence. Try fiddling around for a bit, see if you can make it light up.”

  Now this is certainly something new. It examines the different parts of the board and feels out the parts. This test shouldn’t be about using Creation, so it assumes that lighting the bulb can be done solely through the given material… but how? Without a flame, there can be no generating heat.

  Eventually, however, it comes across a heavy square lump toward the board’s edge. Touching it causes a strange feeling to course through its fingers - tight, as if experiencing an electrical shock. This device has somehow managed to capture lightning inside it. The Knight doesn’t understand the specifics, but deciphering the power source allows it to move onto the rest. Over time it makes many other discoveries: connecting the wires through a clamp allows electricity to flow through it; certain switches can block this flow and redirect it to other parts; and some routes do not work altogether. It has to use both sides of the metal square in order to create a functional cycle.

  Once it succeeds in connecting the series, a faint red glow begins to emanate from the bulb. It gets hotter, brighter, until a spark jolts to life and produces an artificial light.

  The examiner peers at it for a second, before nodding his head in approval. “Now that’s a thing of beauty. We haven’t had anyone pass for a while, but I guess that streak ends today.

  He extends an arm toward the Knight and shakes its hand with a friendliness completely devoid of the arrogance he showed before. Now, there’s only excitement, praise, and mutual respect toward a fellow colleague.

  “Congratulations, Mr. Calason,” he says with a sincere smile. “From this day forth, you are an engineer of Nox Caelum.”

  It smiles back, but it can’t help but be a bit pensive. It is no longer a warrior - no longer a scourge that sheds blood. Its Polus affiliation has been stripped clean, leaving only a new identity to foster in its wake.

  From now on, the being shall mingle among these people not as a knight… but as the Engineer.