As expected, the Sheriff is none too pleased to see me bright and early Sunday morning, but ain’t nothing either of us can do about it.

  To keep things civil, I make no effort to disembark from my boat after tying off at the docks, and on his end, he keeps all the guards bearing grudges from pointing their rifles at me. Which is great, because I ain’t in no mood to be menaced, not after this emotional roller coaster of a weekend. Instead, they all stand with weapons at the ready as I divest myself of my guns, dropping both belt and harness into the lockbox rather than risk drawing them one by one. Before closing the box up, I glance up at the swarthy, scruffy Sheriff and gesture at the 3-Line and Whumper I brung with. “You mind passing these two guns to Aunty Ray along with a note?” I ask, because it’d save me a long wait.

  She’s gonna need to put some time in at the range, and she can’t do it without no guns. My fault for taking all the best ones and leaving the antique collector items behind. The 3-Line was always her best weapon, while the Whumper makes for a great secondary, and she’s got a Sturm and Kitiara Shortsword for her sidearm, the 22-10 baby brother variant of the Longsword revolver Captain Jung uses. That should cover all of Aunty Ray’s bases, as more guns means more weight and she ain’t used to carrying so much.

  Fact is, the best move would be to buy a 44-40 Longsword, because if she likes it, then she only needs to carry 2 types of ammo instead of 3. For that same reason, I got instructions for Tina to requisition herself a Merlin 45-15, which is pretty much my Ranger Repeater on steroids seeing how it’s got Penetrate and Maximize tacked on top, while being a lever action beaut to boot. Would be illegal to own for civilian use if it wasn’t a short barrel carbine, as Maximize is a restricted Metamagic on Bolt based Aetherarms over a certain length. Seems like an arbitrary rule if I’m being honest, seeing how the limit don’t apply to Blastguns, which is why a trashy ‘rifle’ like the Stoat exists. Ain’t no other reason to want a Soviet-made Compressed Blastgun that shoots and handles like a terrible rifle except to get both Maximize and Penetrate on primary.

  In response to my request, Sheriff Patel makes a noncommittal noise that sounds like an agreement, so I slowly reach into the safe and bring them out, show him they ain’t loaded, then set them to one side so he can bring them away before locking up and stepping back. Then and only then does the Sheriff step down onto my boat, but not because he’s worried I’ll shoot him. Even if he was worried, he got Spells enough to make Mikey Snow Show’s defences look like wet paper tissue, and he tanked two shots from the Naga without dying.

  As for the Sheriff? I’m pretty sure he could tank all six shots in succession without batting an eye, but I sure as hell ain’t raring to find out first hand. Right now, he’s just putting on a clinic for the guards to show them how to conduct a proper inspection in a calm and cool manner while prioritizing their safety.

  Because pointing guns at a man unprompted ain’t how it’s done. Aside from the fact that I’m a better gunfighter and Spellslinger than most guards, their actions have made my new lawsuit against the town guards all the more valid, one that states they created a hostile environment and antagonistic relationship by greeting me at the docks with loaded weapons without cause every time I dropped in. That’s why the guards are so sour, because they done been caught slipping on camera too many times to count.

  Course, there’s also the fact that I done put Dave in the hospital with multiple fractures, but I’m pretty sure no one likes him all that much anyways. Besides, he got off light considering I was gearing up to kill the man one day. Sounds terrible I know, but it wasn’t like it I met the man and immediately wanted him dead. Jumpy and scared I understand, but that wasn’t him. Dave saw my calm compliance and complete lack of fear and took it personal, like I was insulting him by not shaking in my boots. So he escalated his actions, and even though I know he too chickenshit to intentionally murder me in broad daylight without cause, I also know he’s dumb enough to do it accidentally.

  Didn’t take long to run out of my admittedly limited patience, and I decided he was probably gonna have to die for my peace of mind. That’s all it is, nothing personally really, especially now that I done tuned him up and got a lawsuit pointed his way. A man who thinks he’s got nothing to lose is a dangerous threat, as I myself proved twice this year, in Brightpick and Pleasant Dunes both, so I ought to keep both eyes open in case Dave should snap.

  Putting the fat fool out of mind, I focus on the Sheriff’s inspection, starting with the smattering of crates I done already opened and divested of most of what was inside. Sheriff Patel ain’t no fool though, as he can see the empty spaces where there are obvious weapons missing. The fact that I done took all the ammo to sell don’t help my case much either. Usually, I leave everything untouched including the ammo, because I don’t trust none that I didn’t pack myself. I seen how factory workers will pour crystal Aether onto a tray and distribute it to 100 different cartridges at once, and it don’t inspire confidence much.

  That’s in an official, licensed munitions factory too, so I’d hate to see what them unlicensed ammo packers get up to.

  Not for nothing either. If your round is 1 Grainage short and under packed, then your all your fancy Metamagicks won’t activate, and you never know which one comes up short. Could be Silence, ruining your chances of a quiet kill and ringing the dinner bell for all Abby within a half-day’s ride. Could be Penetrate, meaning your Bolt bounces off instead of punching through, and then the Abby you was hoping to kill gets in close to kill you. Could be any of the Metamagics really, and it’s a crapshoot which, but despite how disastrous that could prove, an under packed round is the preferable outcome.

  Because an overpacked round means your Spell Core got more Grainage than it needs to power all the Metamagicks, and all that extra energy doesn’t just disappear. If you stop firing the Core, then that excess Aether will eventually drain away into the atmosphere over the course of an hour or so and all is well. If not though, then that Aether gets used the next time the Core is cycled, and since we feed our Bolt Cores a standard amount of Aether with each round, this means that even if your next bullet is properly packed, your Spell Core will be left with excess Aether for an extended period of time. This stresses the Core, which can lead to cracks that’ll either junk your gun until you replace the Core, or worse, explode in your hands and embed shards of a broken yet charged Spell Core in your flesh, which leads to unpleasant things like rotting from the inside out via Contagion corruption.

  Which is why I don’t much care for ammo I didn’t pack myself, and when I do have to buy, I buy from Mr. Kalthoff, New Hope’s resident Danish gunsmith and reputable seller of all things Aetherarms. Even felt iffy using rounds packed by the former residents of Mueller’s Quay, but needs must as it were, and lucky for me, they was all listening when I stressed the importance of proper measurements and I didn’t notice a single poorly packed round throughout the entire night.

  Course, my standards are on the higher end of high, because I’m something of an outlier. Your average, everyday townie don’t need to worry so much. If they ever get into a gunfight, they’ll shoot 6, maybe 12 rounds and then it’ll be all she wrote, or go hunting and shoot up to a dozen times over the course of a day, depending on what they hunting and how good their aim is. Ain’t much cause to worry about over or under packed rounds, so Levi won’t have no trouble selling off the ammo we done pilfered from the boat, but now that I’m thinking about it, I probably shouldn’t have took it all, as it do seem mighty suspicious for folks to be smuggling guns with no ammo.

  Then again, ain’t like ammo’s regulated same as guns, so buying ammo on location is always easy. The Sheriff don’t miss a thing though, sees what I brung him and knows I done took plenty for myself. He doesn’t say anything right away, just gives me a look, a cold, knowing look that says he’s onto my schemes, but he don’t give no orders to clap me in cuffs. Instead, he shakes his head and says, “I spoke at the town assembly for your Exile. Told them they were fools to even consider it.” Which is touching, until he gets to the next bit and adds, “Here in town, you had reason to keep honest with so many eyes on you. Out there on your own? You are a menace left unchecked.” The Sheriff shakes his head again and sighs. “Slippery slopes, Howie. You continue on like this, and sooner or later, you will slip and fall.”

  And he’ll be there to throw me in cuffs when I do, I suppose is his meaning. Ain’t personal, and I can accept that, appreciate the warning even. If there’s one man outside the military I wouldn’t care to mess with, it’s Sheriff Dharani Dhar Patel, Abjurer and home-grown survivor of the Aberration infested shores of Gujarat.

  Mr. Tillman objects from his perch up on the docks, all bundled up in his jacket and making a fuss about unfounded implications and whatnot, but neither of us pay him any mind. Mostly because we both know the Sheriff’s right. I don’t say as much though, since that’d be an admission of possession and probably guilt. Instead, I move on to show him the 8 dead bodies I got stashed in the massive Freeze box I built into my ship’s deck. Was meant for storing Abby on a possible future trip down the Wayfayer river, but works fine for corpses too, and the Sheriff gives them a once over before saying, “These two. Their faces are familiar. Made men from the Cattaneo family, I believe.” And I believe him too, because the Sheriff got a thing for faces. Not so much for names, as he can’t remember what they called, but he does say they’re worth $250 a pop. Not exactly on the level of the Stagecoach Killers, but I ain’t gonna complain about free monies. Especially when it’s probably more than what I’ll earn from all them junk pistols I gave to Levi to unload, and it’s a marked improvement from the big nothingball I got the last few times I brung criminals in, so I happily hand over the cargo, corpses, and crystal recording too so the Sheriff can sign off on the kills.

  Knowing it’ll be an hour or two before the Sheriff gets back to me with the cash and paperwork, I spend the time sitting on deck with Cowie while my Mage Hands wave sticks around like they hatchets. At Cantrip level, so they move about as slow as molasses, but that’ll change if I upcast the Spell at Third Order. Within 2 meters of my body, the improved and empowered Mage Hands can swing weapons about as fast as I can with my real arms, and they don’t get tired either. Beyond that limited range, they rapidly drop in speed until they reach 6m away, at which point they revert to their natural, Cantrip speeds.

  Ain’t ideal, but I figure if I ever run out of ammo, I can always use the Mage Hands to swing a hatchet around. It’s only 20lbs of force per Mage Hand, but add in the hand speed and weight of the hatchet itself and it should do a good bit of damage to an unarmoured foe. A good retaliatory whack will dissipate them right quick of course, unless I manage to maintain the Mage Hands using Concentration, but it’s a lot easier to ride the expected recoil of an Aetherarm than to mitigate the force of an attack, even if I see it coming in advance.

  Get some good practice with Elodie on those rare occasions she drops by to visit, and it’s downright adorable watching a sea lion, diamondclaw, or pony smack Mage Hands out of the air. Ain’t managed to maintain even a single Mage Hand once after getting swatted, and at the rate I’m going, I’ll need years more of practice before getting it down pat. It's mostly academic anyways, an option of last resort I hope to never need. Don’t even carry multiple hatchets to use, but it’s always good to get practice in so I don’t accidentally chop myself in the heat of battle.

  Hence the practice, swinging sticks around my head as fast as I can while doing my best not to clip myself in the process. Ain’t willing to move while I do it, but once I get into the swing of things, I burn 4 Aether out of my daily allotment to use Conjure Weapon to craft me a hatchet, while giving my second Mage Hand the real hatchet I carry on my hip and have them swing them some more. Still haven’t gotten the knack of Splitting the Spell to get two hatchets, or Echoing it so it can copy my movements, but the sight of them slow moving hatchets chopping all around me is enough to make the guards sweat as they stand around trying to pretend like they ain’t nervous while watching me like hawks.

  Which I suppose is why I done it to begin with. I been polite enough, not getting off my ship even though I got every right to. I’m Exiled from town, but that don’t mean I ain’t allowed to stretch my legs along the dock and outskirts, though I wouldn’t want to see what happens if I tried.

  By the time the Sheriff returns with my bounty money, it’s well after 10, meaning Sunday mass just came to an end. I don’t stick around though, because no sense making the family come all the way down to the docks just to chat for a minute or three, especially not if they in their Sunday best. Instead, I cast off and head home to work on my projects, of which there are many to complete. First on the docket is to add a bunch of quality-of-life upgrades to the wagon, stuff that’s been on my list since before my first visit to Pleasant Dunes, but never got around to doing because it’s all a bit extra.

  Now I got no choice though, because rough living won’t do if Chrissy and Aunty Ray are coming along. With just me and Tina, I would’ve been fine sleeping out on the driver’s seat while she got the cabin in the back, but now that we got two more passengers, they’re gonna need a bit more comfort and privacy. So I get to scrounging for cushions and seatbacks to put together two proper chairs to go on top of the driver’s seat. Since I’ll be sleeping in them, I make sure they’re extra comfy, which makes me worried I might get too comfortable out on the road and fall asleep when I shouldn’t. So to counter that, I fix the comfy seats to the bench with wingnuts and bolts, so I can remove them should I ever need to maintain vigilance or clean or replace them if they ever get burned by Fire or melted by Acid or something.

  Next comes a canopy roof, which is a bit more involved, as I craft a folding steel frame to support the cloth canopy so it won’t fall on my head during a hurried escape. After that, I figure it’s time to put in a changing stall, since modesty is gonna be hard to maintain with three women and one man out in the badlands, and I ain’t about to let them feel uncomfortable. Ain’t hard to work up a couple shower curtains and fold-out rods to roll them into, and I install it all at the very back so I can use a shower as an excuse to go rummaging around my wagon should I ever need one while out on the road.

  Though it don’t take much to describe, don’t nothing happen quick when you making stuff mostly from scratch. Had a lot of materials to work with though, as the former residents left most of everything they owned, but it still takes me the better part of a week to even do this much. The rest of the modifications are easier though, as I go through this at least once a year to turn the interior of my wagon into useable living space while heading out to the badlands. It’s a simple matter that starts by putting netting up across the roof of the wagon, which is where we’ll store stuff like our clothes and daily necessities. From there, I empty out all the hidden containers and fill them with water barrels, travel rations, and other much needed supplies, and that’s really all she’s wrote. There’s plenty more room in the undercarriage storage container, though I try not to put anything down there besides corpses, while there’s space on the walls for ammo, armour, and guns, which should cover all of our bases.

  For the finishing touch, I scrounge up a big, thick leather mat that covers most of the interior, so we the girls can roll it out at night to sleep on. A couple pillows and some extra blankets go into the netting too, and if Aunty Ray packs too much clothes and whatnot, I can always lash a couple suitcases to the roof.

  As for non-combat gear? I got a few toys I been dying to bring along, like my fancy new pressure cooker which fits nicely into the undercarriage container. Rather than a pot, I custom welded a 350-gallon steel vessel shaped like a rectangle with rounded corners, then used lead-lined gaskets stuffed with leather soaked in beeswax to create an airtight seal for the recessed, screw down lid that covers it. A brass, weight-based pressure valve on a steel spring release keeps the thing from blowing up, while a dense network of heating elements ripped off of multiple Aetheric stoves and attached to the bottom and sides of the vessel is responsible for heating the whole thing to a boil.

  Works like a dream it does, and even after leaving it to cook for hours longer than necessary, the pressure remained well within structural limits, meaning it wasn’t even close to exploding. Doesn’t take up all that much space either, as it fits in the undercarriage cargo container, and I can always open it up to stuff corpses inside if I should really need the cargo room and lack the time for a proper cook. Course, that’s a bit more involved than just dumping corpses into the slot at the back, since I’d have to remove the undercarriage cargo container and pressure cooker to do so, then reattach it with help from my Floating Disc sleds. Can’t do that if I’m pressed for time, but if that’s the case, I shouldn’t be sticking around to fill my cargo space to begin with, so I figure it’s a non-issue.

  Until it is, of course, which might well lead to me having to abandon the cargo container and pressure cooker both, but if I can build it once, I can build it again, as there are still plenty of Aetheric stovetops to go through in the quay. I’m pretty sure the former residents were stealing or at least borrowing crystal Aether from the Proggie, because I got earthly no idea how they could afford to run their stoves and gadgets without it. The dock fees might’ve helped, but even then, that ain’t hardly enough for each and every household to have its own stove, kettle, iron, and a dozen other extraneous gadgets all powered by Aether. That’s why I don’t see no reason not to take all those doodads for myself, and my future neighbours will just have to buy a wood-fired stove when they move in.

  Who knows. Maybe Levi got a connection to a stove maker and can get them a good deal.

  Truth is, I ain’t hoarding all them gadgets out of greed. Taking on the Puglianos in Brightpick showed me the power of technology and expendables, and I been tinkering around to see what I can make that’s worth using. Ain’t got much to show for it, but in my defense, I been working on whole a lot of projects and doing a whole lot of studying, as Mr. Mueller has a whole library chock full of books on Arcana, Technology, and Spellslinging, to say nothing of his personal Spellbook to boot. He brought his book with him when he left, but he kindly left a copy in which has all manner of useful Spell Formulas I had yet to learn, including a number of Third Order Spells which will go great once added to my repertoire. All his useful notations have been a God send, because even though he might not have been the most proficient Spellslinger around, he was one smart cookie and knew all the right questions to ask when it comes to learning a Spell, so his books also had the right answers notated there too.

  Pretty sure this is why Kevin made sure to ask me to look after his books, because he wanted me to know those books were there so I could learn from them. Knew I’d be on the outs with the Rangers, so figured I’d need some help learning new Spells. Just another way those ‘abominable cultists’ helped me out for no reason other than because they wanted to, while the people of the town I done helped build kicked me to the curb before I even made it back from Brightpick. Seriously, despite hearing how bad cultists can be, I gotta say they done always treated me right. A bit too friendly for my liking maybe, but you can’t blame them for wanting to be kind. Almost makes a man wonder what life would be like if I accepted their offer to leave with them, but that wasn’t ever gonna happen, not with my family still down in New Hope.

  Or you know. The flabby white froggy that looked like it was turning into goop to complete its process of evolving into a deadly, self-replicating Deviant every bit as clever as a Proggie and mobile to boot. That was the real issue there, not my unwillingness to leave.

  Hasn’t stopped me from making use of the library though, and while I’ve yet to succeed in adding a new Third Order Spell to my repertoire, that’s only to be expected without an actual Mentor to guide me. Took me 6 months to learn Fireball, and I’ve been a lot busier and less motivated of late, not to mention more liable to focus on mastering the Spells I already know as opposed to learning new ones, so I expect it’ll take even longer this time around. Slow and steady wins the race though, as I’ve been keeping a pretty packed schedule in my daily, solitary life, one I’ve grown accustomed to in my last few months. The kiccaws are a most welcome addition though, as they do so love to follow me out of the barn after morning feedings to keep me company in the warm workshop and big house all throughout the day as I tinker, study, mope, and cuddle kiccaws to my heart’s content.

  Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

  The most important project of all is of course my hand. Or rather, the upgrade to my hand, an Automaton prosthetic that should prove useful when I don’t got the Wildshape Ability active or available. Soon as my wagon upgrades are finished, I pour all my efforts into finishing it up, efforts which finally bear fruit one Tuesday afternoon as I look up from the final Etch and put the wand aside to cool down.

  Visually, the Automaton prosthetic looks nothing like what I envisioned, not at the beginning at least. I figured it’d be some sort of clockwork contraption, a metal structural frame of a hand just bristling with gears, pistons, clamps, and whatnot, but that couldn’t be any further from the truth. Instead, the finished prototype looks fairly similar to the articulating wooden model hand I’ve been using as the totem for my Wildshape Ability. Like a mannequin’s hand pretty much, and at a glance, the only difference between the two is all the straight, unartistic Etches seared into the surface of the Automaton, with all them grid-lines and right angles inlaid with copper to the circuit that should animate the wooden digits and give me back the full use of my right hand.

  Said it before and I’ll say it again. Any gunfighter that can be taken out of action with a blanket, wide-spread Dispel ain’t much of a gunfighter at all. Course, there ain’t many Spellslingers capable of Dispelling Spells on a whim out there, as it’s one of the most difficult Third Order Spells to pick up and utilize. Fact is, it’s less of an effect and more of a tool, in that it allows you to unravel the bindings holding Spell effects in place, whether those bindings be Ectoplasmic fixtures or flows of Aether. Ain’t all that useful against an instantaneous effect like Fireball, but works wonders on Conjured constructs like my Mage Hands and Wildshaped Hand. The caster would still have to figure out how to tear those bindings apart, and they’d have to do it quickly enough to matter in the middle of a firefight, which is why you don’t see much use of it on the battlefield outside of stripping high value protective magics like Haste and Warrior’s Ward or dealing with Summons in human-on-human warfare.

  Still, not much ain’t never, so chances are I’ll run into a Dispeller sooner or later considering how many scuffles I get into. Me, I’m more afraid of Counterspell, since that’s what you’d use to stop a Fireball from being cast, but those are even rarer than Dispellers despite both being difficult Abjuration Spells. Dispel is purely Abjuration and has plenty of uses outside of combat where time ain’t an issue. Clearing explosive Spell Glyph Minefields, removing long-lasting debilitating Spell effects like Blind or Deafness, stripping away magical disguises and fixed Illusions, there are several lucrative professions based around Dispel and plenty more niche scenarios in which it can come in handy.

  Counterspell though? That there is a Spell designed from the ground up for use in Archmage on Archmage combat, stopping your enemy from casting those big, battle ending Spells like Fireball, Call Lightning, or even something like Slow or Gaseous Form. Makes it right useful, but also exceedingly difficult to make use of, because even though it’s also an Abjuration Spell, I been told Counterspell can be considered partially Divination too. A big part of using it properly is figuring out what Spell your enemy is trying to cast so you know how to shut it down, meaning you gotta learn the ins and outs of every Spell you might want counter in order to use it effectively.

  For that reason, Counterspell is hands down the most difficult Spell to utilize properly from any Order under Ninth, and there are whole military courses dedicated solely to learning how to use it effectively. I’d love to learn it myself one day, but not only is it difficult to pick up, it’s also restricted, so there’s no chance I could hire someone to teach me. My daddy knew the Spell and was supposedly pretty good with it, but he wasn’t big on taking notes, so outside of the base Formula, there ain’t much to be gleaned from his Spellbook.

  Which is why I’ve put Counterspell firmly on the backburner, as I got more important things to work on. Like my Automaton Prosthetic, the prototype for which is sadly underwhelming. Even though it can’t be Dispelled, I’m sure there are ways to interfere with tech and keep it from working properly, and having to strap a hand on ain’t ideal, but so long as I can use it to shoot a gun, then I can be more or less at 100% 24/7 and be more liberal with my Wildshape Ability usage. I been holding off on using it as often as I can, because you never know when you gonna wake up in the middle of the night and find yourself in a firefight, but now I might not have to worry as much.

  Assuming it works as expected of course, so I carefully open up the Etched frame of the Automaton to double check that the interior is all in order. While the wooden shell ain’t much to look at, the insides are more in line with what I envisioned, though there ain’t many gears, pistons, or clamps to speak of. It’s mostly pulleys and levers, a complex puzzle of interlocking pieces that should allow for a full range of motion once it’s put into action. All cast in bronze mind you, because steel tends to rust when exposed to the elements, which my prosthetic will be, so I can’t have it seizing up at an inopportune moment like say the middle of a gunfight. There’s also the matter of Aetheric conductivity to consider, so brass was the best option available, but there’s room for plenty of upgrades later on down the line, both in terms of materials and features I’ve got in mind.

  Like quick release compartments to store Spell Components like quartz, jadeite or flintstone for easy access, a shock function like Noora’s gauntlet, or even a full on Aetherarm or Artifact in a finger if I can finagle it.

  One step at a time though. Gotta crawl before you walk, much less run, so I take my time making sure everything is in its rightful place before moving on. Truth is, I’m mostly stalling, because as I gaze upon the fruit of my efforts, something I’ve been working on for almost 8 months now, I find it sorely lacking on all fronts. Take the shell for example, which is made of silverleaf beechwood, a soft and flexible wood that is easy to source around these parts. Problem is, it ain’t exactly the toughest material around, nor is wood really anyone’s first choice of medium for an Automaton, as it tends to be finicky when it comes to Etches. There’s a whole lot of science and math behind why, but the long and short of it is because wood is alive, and therefore possesses its own natural Aetheric channels. Wild, I know, but humans aren’t the only living things capable of harnessing Aether. We’re just the best at it, unless you include Innate Magical beasts, which we don’t because they’re not they’re own thing, they’re an improvement on the base model.

  As for plants, it turns out that it’s possible for plants and trees to grow in a way that naturally directs Aether between the physical and metaphysical planes. Depends on factors like ambient Aetheric Concentration levels, rate of flow, and a thousand other variables, and all that directing don’t do anything far as we can tell. Not on their own at least, but those natural channels are why we use wood for wands which are needed for Rituals. A Ritual is ain’t nothing but a natural and repetitive process through which we harness Aether, so a piece of wood with invisible, intangible, ineffable Aetheric channels seems to fit the bill nicely. That’s why you gotta work so hard to find the right piece of wood for you, something that resonates with your own Aetheric channels, assuming we got them. Then you Etch whatever Runes you feel fit into the wood, and wham bam thank you ma’am, you got yourself a wand to use as a Ritual focus.

  When crafting an Automaton however, those natural channels in the wood are exactly what you don’t want, because I’m Etching out an established Aetheric circuit to do a very specific task. If those unseen natural channels in the wood interfere with how my circuit works, then anything could happen. Could render it inert, or create a feedback loop that will at best burn itself out, or at worst feed back into the Aether tank and cause it to heat up and explode. Could also do a thousand other things in between, some small, some big, and utterly unpredictable until I see it happen, which is why modern society almost never Etches real circuits into wood anymore.

  So why am I doing it then? Because I got no other choice.

  See, I only built the articulating model hand out of wood in the first place because wood is cheap and easy to work with. Don’t need nothing besides a knife really, and it don’t even gotta be all that sharp. Once I got all the parts right, I figured I could use the model hand to make a mould of every part I’d need, then cast them all myself to keep costs low since there was no guarantee of success and I didn’t want to blow through all my savings. Problem is, halfway through, I learned about Wildshaping and the Ceremony of Connection, which required a totem of the Shape I wanted to take. The wooden model hand seemed perfect for the job, and in truth, it was, which is why I was able to connect with the Spirit of my severed hand and acquire this intrinsic Ability to Conjure up a fleshy replacement that is arguably an improvement in every way besides uptime.

  Which is all fine and dandy, great news really, until I circled back around to my original idea of crafting an Automaton prosthetic. A necessity in my opinion, because Dispel aside, it’s always good to have a backup plan. Lord knows how long it’ll be before I can use my Wildshape Ability to keep my hand Conjured for 24 hours a day without rest, instead of 10, and even then, what happens if I gotta stay up for more than a day or two at a time? Can’t always account for everything, but it’s good to have something to fall back on all the same, and an Automaton prosthetic seemed like the perfect solution to all my woes.

  Plus, given how it’s taken me this long to come up with a prototype, it’ll cast doubt on the ‘rumors’ of my identity as the Pugliano Punisher, since I clearly only got the one hand, while the Punisher was seen with two. I didn’t come up with the name. The papers did, and I can tell that whoever does the editing has a real thing for alliteration.

  Getting back to the issue at hand, no pun intended, I figured on making my Automaton prosthetic out of metal, until Carter let slip how the Wildshape totem has to be made of organic material. Wood is the most common medium, but you can use leather, bones, teeth, antlers, or claws, anything that you might find on the animal you wanna Shape into. That means that if I make a metal Automaton, it can’t double as my totem for the Ability, which is a necessary Spell component I cannot do without.

  Okay, fine, easy solution: use a separate totem instead, like one of them carved charms Elodie keeps on her necklace or Carter wears around his bicep. Unfortunately, there’s something different about my Wildshaped Hand Ability, in that I couldn’t get it working with any totem aside from a full sized, functional, and fully articulating model affixed to my wrist.

  No idea why, but it is what it is, and hardly ideal. If I made my prosthetic out of metal, that would’ve meant swapping out the Automaton for a wooden model every time I wanted to use the Ability, so I had no choice but to give my Automaton a wooden shell. Which is ‘natural’ enough for the Ability to work, brass innards notwithstanding. Technically, I could’ve made the shell out of bone, teeth, hide, or some other organic material, but those got even more Aetheric channels than wood. What’s more, since this is just the prototype, I didn’t want to use anything too fancy before figuring out if it even works, since you can blow through money real fast when it comes to pricy materials.

  Take the Métis for example, who make their laminate compound warbows with a thunderoak core and whisperwood backing, the latter of which are rare and expensive since them trees don’t grow big or fast. I heard there’s a hardwood down south that’s tough yet flexible and will fit the bill nicely for my Automaton prosthetic if I stick with wood, but sourcing it is an issue since there ain’t much commercial use for it. Ideally, I’d make the prosthetic hand’s shell out of a composite material, a soft, flexible, and durable wood for the outer layer supported by a mithril framework underneath, and maybe some treated horn or sinew pasted in between for added pliability, but I’d have to run some tests to see if that would even work for my totem, not to mention the vast extravagance of walking around with a hand filled with Mithril.

  In the end, having to keep costs low by using available and viable materials has got my prototype looking awful shabby. Not just because of the cheap wood neither. The copper Etchings don’t sit right either, as Orichalcum would look so much nicer, while also providing less resistance to generate less heat. Which is gonna be a big issue if my calculations are right, and I’m guessing they are since I’m rarely wrong. Not to mention it took so much effort to modify the Etches to work on wood as opposed to something stable and Aetherically inert like steel, stone, or ceramic. Still not sure I got it right, which is why I’m so nervous, which brings us to my next issue with the prototype, my complete and utter lack of faith in the reliability of this shabby Automaton.

  In the short- or long-term mind you. I’ve touched on it before, but wood tends to rot when wet, and ain’t no one fixed that just yet. While I’ve no intentions of leaving my Automaton in water for extended periods of time, keeping it 100% dry is a big ask, and the last thing I need is for some rot to set in and ruin the circuit just when I need it most. Course, none of that matters if the darned thing don’t work, so I quit stalling and hook it up to a cheapo dynamo I cannibalized off of some doodad or the other. It’s got a small Aether tank and creates just enough power for the Automaton to function, but not at 100%, which makes it ideal for the very first test.

  Before filling the tank however, I decide that it’s probably safer to do this test outside, instead of an enclosed room filled with kiccaws. Especially since my best bird Stella’s here, looking all round and cute as can be perched up on the table to be closer to me, so I give her belly a poke, her forehead a kiss, and leave her inside the warm warehouse with her kiccaw friends for a hot minute as I head out to test my Automaton.

  Out in the middle of an empty field using my Mage Hands at range just in case it blows up the second I flip the switch.

  It doesn’t, which is promising, but I stay a full 12 metres back since that’s the farthest I can go while still being able to reach it with my Mage Hands. Almost cast it at a Third Level until I remembered Metamagic was a thing, as a Distance Metamagicked Cantrip gets me the same 12m Range. Really goes to show how ineffective upcasting Spells is, though to be fair, 6 months ago, I was tearing my hair out in hopes of getting this to work, and now that I got it, I can’t quit bellyaching about it.

  Regardless of how I achieve it, the extra range on my Mage Hands comes in clutch as I check the temperature on the Automaton from a safe distance and measure how quickly it drains the Dynamo while idle. The next step is to interface with the Automaton through my Spirit Imbued within the Etches so I can issue it commands using a framework I spent the last four months setting up without entirely understanding what it was all about. It’s complicated stuff really, because when you get right down to it, the Automaton is just a machine, parts put together that are powered by Aetheric Energy, no different from the kettle, stove, or Floating Disc sleds. In order to communicate with and control this machine powered by Aetheric Energy, the easiest way to do so is using said Aetheric Energy.

  How you ask? Well that’s simple really. You set up a basic circuit which you supply with energy for a positive value, or cut off its supply of energy for a negative value. In this case we represent those values with 1 and 0. Using only those two values, we then form a numbering system which we call binary, one that’s been around as far back as the 17th century, and use an exponential number of those basic circuits to interface with the machine and get it to do what we want.

  I know. It’s confusing. How does Danny use 1’s and 0’s to tell his skitterbots where to go or what tool to grab? Well, as far as I can tell, he doesn’t, not directly. Instead, he embeds what’s called a Grimoire Script within his mind, which is a similar process to embedding a Spell Structure, except instead of a complex arrangement of moving lights, it’s a text-based syntax of notation for interfacing with Aetheric devices by translating your desired commands into a bunch of 1’s and 0’s before delivering it as an Edict to the connected device. The Script itself is just a formal definition of keywords, grammar, syntax, and rules to abide by, most of which reads like gobbledegook to the layman. Truth is, it still looks like complete nonsense to me, which is why I done copied straight from the textbook without trying anything fancy since that shit is complicated as fuck.

  The good news is I don’t have to understand the Grimoire Script in its entirety. I just need to know how to use it, and that is much easier to learn. For example, if I want my Automaton prosthetic to clench into a fist, I reach out with my Spirit to interface with it through the Etch I done laid upon it, then pull up the Grimoire Script in my mind to run a pre-assembled command called an Invocation, one I have simply titled ‘Fist’. The Invocation in question is only a single line that ain’t all that complicated, and is actually fairly easy to parse.

  Invoke (“Fist”, target=“right_hand”, pressure=100, sustain).

  Don’t seem like much, do it? It ain’t, not really, because all the heavy lifting is done in the background by the Grimoire Script I already laid out in advance. That’s the fruit of my labour these last four and a half months, embedding the whole dang Script into my mind to define what all those words and variables mean. To break it down, the one-line Invocation titled “Fist” tells my Automaton, which is defined as ‘right_hand’, to clench all five fingers, a process outlined in 7 separate sub-Invocations under “Fist” dictating what each finger needs to do, as well as what angle of rotation to hold the wrist at and fix it in place. It will do all this with as much force as it can muster, and hold it for as long as it can, or until I tell it to stop. It knows how to do this because the Grimoire Script translates the Invocation and all those commands contained within into binary code, then bundles it all into an Aetheric package of information called an Edict. That Edict is then sent over to the Automaton through our connected Spirit and the Etches laid upon it, at which point the Automaton translates that binary code into actual, real movements.

  Which is amazing to be sure, and also a real janky way of controlling a hand, but that don’t take away from my sheer delight as I watch my Automaton prosthetic clench all five fingers into a fist and hold it just like it’s supposed to.

  Course, my joy is short-lived as I look around and realize I got no one to share it with. No Josie to gas me up, or Noora to explain all the details to while she works on building her own Automaton. No Chrissy or Tina to marvel at my creations, or Aunty Ray to tell me how proud she is. Can’t show it to Danny for instant feedback, or Uncle Teddy to talk about practical applications, while Tim, Uncle Art, and Marcus ain’t around to play pranks on for a laugh. It’s just me here in my daddy’s quay, me, the animals, and about 200 strangers a day putting in at the docks before calling it quits.

  Meaning no one knows that today, this Tuesday the 12th of December in the year of 2007, I, Howie Zhu, ran my first Invocation to get my Automaton prosthetic to move.

  I like the solitary life. I really do. Thing is, humans ain’t solitary creatures, so even a loner like me got a need for company which gotta be filled every once in awhile, but I can’t do that out here. It’s times like this when Exile hits hard, because I want nothing more than to run home and share my accomplishment with my loved ones, but I can’t because they’re all a two-hour boat ride away and I need at least a week’s notice to get a visa that’ll see me through the gates.

  So instead of celebrating, I get right back to work, which is a little disheartening to be sure. There’s still plenty to be done, but I allow myself a moment to poke and prod at the Automaton with my Conjured Mage Hands, pulling at the clenched fingers and testing to see how strong they are while checking the temperature of the connections one by one. Each Mage Hand only got 5lbs of force, as this here is the Cantrip, but even then, they got strength enough to shift the Automaton’s digits. Hardly reassuring, but to be fair, that dynamo on there is only strong enough to power it at about 5% of its full strength. Maybe even less, but I don’t want to go full hog just yet. Instead, I give it a few pokes and prods before leaving it out in the field, because I wanna drain the whole dynamo and see how hot it gets before fixing it to my wrist.

  Because if I’m gonna be running around with this thing strapped to my forearm, I wanna be sure it ain’t gonna get hot enough to sear flesh or explode the connected Aether tank so inconveniently placed alongside so very may veins.

  Got no more projects to work on, or at least nothing I can complete today, so I go collect Stella and the rest of the kiccaws from the workshop before heading into the big house for dinner. Don’t feel much like eating, but I got them belly rumbles all the same, so I dip a bowl into the pot of stew I’ve had cooking in the fireplace for a week now. Hunter’s stew is what they call it, and so long as you keep it at a good temperature and top it off with water and ingredients every so often, it’ll never go bad. Easier than cooking 3 full meals a day, though if I’m being honest, I haven’t cooked even once that since Noora told me she was leaving.

  Just haven’t felt like it is all, so it’s been stew and rations for me.

  The dishes need doing too, as the sink is pretty full, but I’ll get around to it eventually. Should at least wash a bowl or two, and a ladle while I’m at it so I don’t gotta keep dipping bowls into the pot, while a spoon to eat with would be nice. All academic really, because I drink my stew straight from the bowl and leave the dirty dishes untouched all the same before taking a seat on the padded recliner by the fireplace. As I settle in with my book, Stella hops up on my lap and the other kiccaws gather round, wanting to get in close but not so close as to be poked and patted. Standoffish bunch, but Stella more than makes up for it as she keeps me company while I read.

  Nothing interesting sadly, but rather a primer on how to assemble Invocations, which is a fairly dense and complicated process. It’s all too easy to forget a comma here, a quotation mark there, a bracket, equals sign, or what have you. So far, ‘Fist’ is the only Invocation I’ve put together, and now that I know it works, I can start putting together more.

  Because that’s how it is. I can’t just intuitively think, “Crook my right index finger”, and have the Grimoire Script send that Edict off. No, I gotta phrase it with the right syntax so it knows which finger to move and how much each joint gotta move to constitute a crook. Gotta get Invocations for hauling, eating, working, shooting, and more, plus I gotta do it in a way that’ll come out clean and concise. Brevity is key, not just in the commands themselves, but in the Edicts sent out. See, all those 1’s and 0’s I send out to the Automaton ain’t just numbers. They dictate on or off, flow or no, and it takes time to process all that information, so you want your Edicts as short as possible. The measurement for this information is a bit, which is short for ‘binary digit’, or just a 1 or 0. There are 8 bits to a byte, the smallest Edict you can send out, which mathematically gives you 256 unique single byte configurations to work with.

  More configurations means more of the Etches on the Automaton dedicated to receiving bigger Edicts, so ideally, you want to get your message across in as few bits and bytes as possible, which is difficult for something as complex and multi-faceted as a hand. This is where the books can’t help me all that much, where even Danny can’t help, because I gotta come up with a set of Invocations that’ll allow my Automaton prosthetic to not only carry out a wide variety of Edicts and actions, but do so in a concise and timely manner. Since it takes time to process the Edict, there’s some delay between my brain running the Invocation and the Automaton following through with its commands. It’s a short delay measured in milliseconds, if that, but it’s still a delay that’s longer than my natural, in born reactions.

  So I gotta be proactive, not reactive, when using my Automaton hand, and I gotta get it working before setting out for the mesa. I wasn’t so rushed to get it done when I thought it was only gonna be me and Tina, because 10 hours of coverage with my Wildshape Ability is plenty since I only really need a second hand to fight. If I’m fighting for 10 hours straight with no time to rest for 2 short hours in the badlands, then I done already messed up in a big way that two hands can’t fix. Problem is, things are different with Chrissy and Aunty Ray coming along, because I can’t say for certain that I can keep them from making any mistakes. It don’t take much to land in hot water out in the badlands, as there are too many ways to screw up for me to even begin to list, but expecting Chrissy to stay focused the whole trip is like asking the moon to rise from the south.

  Means I’ll need an extra edge to keep them safe, and this Automaton hand is it, so I stay up late into the night assembling Invocations in my mind and getting the syntax and resulting Edict as compact as can be. Which sounds easier than it is, because with how the Grimoire Script is laid out, it gives you a whole lot of freedom to control any manner of Automaton in whatever way you’d like. Thing is, all that freedom means there are many different ways to do one thing in particular, and some ways are inarguably better than others, and I got a whole lot of things I need my Automaton to do.

  All in all though, the prototype proves to be a huge success, as the next morning I wake up on the recliner with Stella on my shoulder and look outside the window to find the Automaton still in one piece. No explosion is a good sign, but there’s still a lot to do, with plenty of improvements to be made, and not a whole lot of time to do it. Needs must though, because Aunty Ray was right. I’m scared to lose someone else, downright terrified in fact. The number of people I hold near and dear to my heart has never been high, and it’s shrank a good bit this past year. Marcus, Josie, our baby, and in some ways, the Marshal, and now Noora too. Losing them hurt me bad, and I’m still struggling to deal with it, still reeling from the loss, so the last thing I need is more trauma heaped on top of the unholy mess that I’ve become. So I gotta bring my A-game, ensure there are no mistakes made during this trip to the badlands, because all it’ll take is one slip, one misstep, one miscalculation or error in judgement, and then that’ll be all she wrote.

  Not just for my family, but me too, because I’m barely hanging on by a thread out here. Not just struggling to keep my head above water, but finding it hard to come up with reasons why. Why struggle at all? Why not sink into the water and let it take me away? Or come back up for just enough air to go out in a blaze of glory, something big that’ll make headlines and be remembered for years to come. Dark thoughts indeed, ones I’ve been having more often than not of late, especially when I’m finally too exhausted to keep my eyes open and sink into the sofa to sleep, only to remember all the people I’ve lost and things I done to get here.

  Which is the whole reason why I wanted to bring Tina out the mesa in the first place. Should there ever come a day when I crumble under the pressure and bite the Bolt, then she’ll know how to safely get to it and access the fortune me and my daddy got saved up so she’ll have enough to take care of Chrissy and Aunty Ray.

  Contingencies, that’s the name of the game, because it’s always good to have a backup plan, even if it’s a terrible and unthinkable one.