Legend of Ransera

While Torin crafted the body of the golem and kvetched internally over its mind, the bulk of the education - so to speak - fell upon Sivan and the pictography required to create the Circles of Mind. Here, his work appeared more esoteric than engineering. He knelt in one circle, the core in another, and he meditated upon the knowledge the golem would require. While he was rusty with more complicated minds, he was excited, too. These golems were being created in tandem with another artisan, but he wasn't being overseen by any master. This core would fit into the overbody he was inscribing upon each piece as Torin completed them, which would refine its aether and allow for the more complex thought.

If all went well, there would be the spark of sentience. It would be able to learn. Sivan knew a fair amount about agriculture, and he was teaching it, but the farmers would reinforce those patterns with hands-on training. The elf planned to be present for that with the first golem, at least. These colonists from Starfall - Gígurstjarna, they sometimes called it among themselves - were as accustomed to magic as the people of Kalzasi, or even of Silfanore, but not a one of them were the artificers he was.

Perhaps he and Torin would take apprentices someday who tended their workshops in the valley.

Sometimes he wanted to spend the bulk of his time there in Stardew Valley and only go to Kalzasi to tend to his tower and garden or ensure that Timon had the shop in order. There were fewer people here, and once he brought Rivin and Destyn, Laurevere and perhaps Master Jacun, the proportion of people he was comfortable would be exponentially higher than it was anywhere else.

With a long, slow inhale and exhale, he left behind the measured breathing of his meditations, rose from his hatha posture and stretched as he moved into Torin's workshop and sphere, watching with interest as he worked. When he was sure he wouldn't be interrupting, he spoke.

"How goes it, Agapitós?"

The elf had watched the man a bit before speaking, and knew he was troubled. It didn't truly matter if Torin looked at him; if he couldn't see his face, Sivan could still taste his soul even without touching him. His hand fell upon Torin's shoulder, then found his neck, giving it a few squeezes to ease out some of the tension. There were plenty of stock answers he had heard and could repeat back at him, but he didn't. He considered. He recalled his master's responses to his own questions of ethics. Even at his most misanthropic, Sivan had worried about these things as well.

"The golems will feel pleasure for a job well done," he explained slowly. "Its internal reward system is set up to make good behavior pleasurable to them. It is easy to create a relatively mindless thing, but they are dangerous when you make them big and strong. It is more difficult to create intelligence on par with a sentient creature. In some ways, the most difficult is threading that liminal space between them. I'm not teaching them how to write poetry. I'm not teaching them to worship the Gods or even their masters. I'm teaching them their work, self-preservation, the preservation of your people and your land. There are... hierarchies of needs and such... it is complicated. Perhaps if I am ever a father, I will learn better how to teach a golem after learning how to teach a child."

Sivan shrugged. He didn't know if anyone would ever want to create a family with him. Thankfully, he had built one for himself in a manner of speaking.

"As for children, well, there were plenty of times I was angry at my parents for creating me, but... is it unethical to make children? There is the imperative written into our blood: be fruitful and multiply. I think it is unethical to make children—and golems—if you are unwilling to bear the responsibility for rearing them and preparing them for life without you. I am not a philosopher... I don't know how much the conversation between artificery and procreation should overlap. But if these golems evolve, then I will feel compelled to help them realize their independent desires... barring desires to hurt people and such. You know?"

He leaned down to kiss Torin's hair. The fact that he worried about things like this made him love him all the more.

"I think the fact that you ask these questions is a good thing. It will make you a better creator, a better lord, a better parent."

For a brief moment, his mind went on a tangent; he often found himself holding Torin like this, arms around each other as their minds wrapped around each other working on a project or working through an idea. He still worried after Urs' disappearance, and IX's ongoing dormancy. His friendships were few, and each of them different. Torin was a friend first, but it had bled into becoming lovers. If he hadn't been raised to the nobility, Sivan might eventually have asked him to wed. They would make good partners in life, though he didn't know how his redheaded master would feel about it. Now, no matter what his redheaded master might feel about it, Torin would likely have to marry a noblewoman to produce heirs, though that needn't preclude their ongoing relationship.

With Destyn, sex felt like play, natural, and sometimes, he worried, just a ploy to get to his noble neighbor. Sometimes he wondered how things might develop with Rivin, who shared a redheaded master with Torin. He didn't think himself like unto Torin's Bronze Fox and Rivin's Magus, but they did seem to share a taste for companions.

Back to the blacksmith in his arms, he smiled. Whatever the future, life was good in this moment.

"I might teach them to take threatening stances against interlopers," he mused, "though I don't want to teach them violence, even in defense. I am not certain that they wouldn't learn to like it too well. Not because they are inherently violent by any means, but rather... well, I also feel the weight of responsibility. But their scythes would certainly deter me if I were up to no good..."

Often the threat of violence was enough to deter violence. Torin looked quite capable of it and he was capable of violence in defense of those he loved, but he wasn't violent by nature. If only Sivan knew how to teach an artificial creature how to be like Torin, he would trust each and every one of them with his life.

Sivan's answer was a quiet laugh of delight at the idea, nodding. He would make it so. Their work-roughed hands clasped as they walked to inspect the rest of the pieces of the golems' bodies.

"In Dalquia," he began, "especially where populations are more sparse, the elves often bring family news to the bees if they keep them. It's an ancient custom carried forward... Perhaps some rural Hytori still do as well..."