//------------------------------// // The Binding of Flesh and Steel // Story: The Mechanist // by OceanBytez //------------------------------// The Mechanist was hard at work preparing to attach my new legs. He set a couple of more vials and numerous tools nearby. I had no idea where he got the first tool but, my question was quickly answered when I realized he released some sort of cloaking spell on a shelf that had been carved into the cave wall. I did not see him reveal the first two shelves but, now I saw rows upon rows of assorted tools I had never seen before. There were also various books that seemed particularly old or perhaps just very worn. The writing on them was alien to me. I had never seen anything like it. The shelves had markings carved into them that looked reminiscent of the writing on the books. He grabs one last book from a spot hidden behind everything else. It was a dark brown leather notebook. It was very thick and was held closed by numerous perfect cubes of stone that all held similar circular markings. The cubes sat between the front and rear cover pouring some magic over the book to hold it closed. He brought the book near me and cast a spell on it. The cubic stones glowed with a soft blue and flew freely from the book and formed a circle around us. The pages within the book began flying out rapidly until none remained floating all around us. The mechanist hums softly as he thinks. Pages fly to him almost as if they knew what he was thinking... come to think of it they just might. It is his magic after all. Pages he rejects return neatly into the notebook where they came from while the few he accepted settled neatly by me. I tried to read anything but all I saw were various magical scribbles again in some unknown language. Were all texts written by magi like this? That would be terribly dumb I think. "So..." He talks while still focusing on searching the last few dozen pages. "What do you think? I see you are at least mildly intrigued with my personal notes." He smiles pridefully. It is definitely a lot. The letters on the pages appear to be shifting wildly. Finally, he finds the last of the pages he needs and puts the notebook back together without the stones. It rests just behind him. He gestures toward the book and stones. "That is probably at least a dozen schools of magic in one. It would take to long to explain in detail but, I can sum it up for you if you want." He waits for me to agree. After I do he continues. "Essentially I wrote in this notebook since I was a foal. It is my life's work. When I invented a spell I invented more to protect the first. When I ran out of pages I made spells that allowed me to magically store many pages into one. I can cycle freely through it with my magic now." A page flows in front of me and seems to flip through a small book's worth of text in about a minute. However, I still cannot read anything. "Over time I wrote to much to be sorting through it manually so I invented a complex enchantment that sorts through and organizes it. It is directly connected to my mind so finding what I need takes minutes and not days." I cut him off still curious about the strange symbols. "What about the language it is written in? What is this? I have never seen it before even in magic books unicorns I knew studied." He looks confused at first before comprehension hit him rather suddenly. "Ohhh yes... That... It is a language that is long dead. I learned it to discover the secrets of a unicorn cult that was wiped out centuries ago. They studied darker magics and their knowledge gave me the insight I needed for my art. To me, it is second nature to read this long lost language. To a would-be thief, they would simply give up. I cou..." I note he left out key details. Namely, who killed the unicorns, who they were, and the specifics of their "dark" magic. He had still been speaking but, I zoned out a bit and only caught the last part. "...nyway let us continue. I am ready. drink the vial. It will help with the pain." He gestures at one of the vials he brought earlier. This one was not nearly as bad as the first. It had an earthy floral smell to it. It was also much more fluid. I drank it and felt warm and tingly inside within seconds. The warm feeling slowly faded into a sensation like a bunch of pins were poking into me. It did not hurt. It was just very strange. I still felt fully aware and although moving was difficult I could still do so. "watsss innnn hisss..." I drawl as my mouth did not seem to escape the numbing effects altering my speech a bit. He seems humored by my sudden loss of speech as he chuckles a bit before telling me. He starts counting off the major things. "Well, you know... lunaflower petals, joylock roots, water hemlock..." "waaaat!?" I cut him off in a slur. Water hemlock is known to be very poisonous. If that was true this stuff would kill me. He seems to understand my worry and counters. "Don't worry. Magic remember. I only pull the positive effects out of plants for my cocktails. Besides, that is hardly the most poisonous thing in that mix. You should be thankful the taste is good and my magic protects you." I noticeably calm and he seems to accept that as a success. He had a point. Magic. Things do not work the same with magic and I hardly understand it. He already saved my life once. Why would he poison me now? He picks up a leg and positions it near my stump with his magic. "Are you ready?" he asks while making sure he was set up correctly using the morning light to help him aim. I nod. His magic flares brightly now. The colors flash vividly. At first, the metal of the legs glows a deep blue. His magic sprouts a second stream but, this one was far more unsettling. It was a tentacle of sorts that shown brightly with a deep crimson. It seemed to have a... reverse glowing aura of blackness as if it sucked the light from the area around it. It somewhat reminded me of the bandit who attacked me before. As soon as the red magic touched me I felt a horrible excruciating burning sensation. I howl in response. I could feel every of myself getting pulled and warped by the magic. No matter how bad it hurts I still remain conscious somehow. I could no longer think anymore. All I can do is sit there, barely able to resist, and register wave after wave of agony. A wave of stabbing cold crossed the brutal burning sensation to make a contrast that I could only really compare to dumping an ocean of lava over an iceberg. My mind is utterly overwhelmed by the sensation of having my body bent and warped to the will of magic. Time has lost all meaning to me now. There is only feeling. It stops and all the sensations vanish all at once. My head collapses onto the floor from utter exhaustion. It takes me several moments to even register it was over. I groggily bring my head to face the mechanist. He has bags under his eyes now. He seemes weak too. Why? He goes for the other leg..... ohhhh no... I try to move but, the drug is still in effect. I only manage to drag my hooves through the dirt a bit and move my only rear leg... wait... that's go... The wave of fire overtakes my senses again. All my thoughts were shattered into a million pieces like a piece of glass being struck by a rock. I gritted my teeth so hard that I am sure I will crack a tooth. I only feel faint pressure on my teeth though as the pain overpowers all other sensations. I try to focus on something in the background to get a grip and almost succeed. The icy feeling slips back into my mind causing any control I had to crumble. I try again to focus on the room but now my vision seems to be flashing colors unnaturally. I am unable to sit still or even stare at a single spot. I am sure I am not breathing but, no matter how hard I try my body refuses to do anything other than an attempt to exhale a breath that does not exist. small spots start popping into my vision as if it were a piece of paper held just above a flame and burning holes in it. Things start to spin a little. The sensation stops suddenly. Cool air floods my lungs and I pant desperately trying to make up for the lost time breathing. My head is on the ground again but, I did not even notice hitting the ground. I have no recollection of collapsing the second time. Nothing but pain dominates my memory. Now, at last, I got the respite I so desperately need. "Well, I am done now. You can move if you like." The mechanist spoke softly. Something is missing in his voice. He seems as if he had just run a marathon. I slowly bring myself to face him again. He looks worse now than ever before. His mane and tail were disheveled. His fur seemed messy. He looks paler now and his eyes looked as if death himself had stricken the life from them. He slowly looks in my direction. "Well... What are you waiting for? Stand! Get up! You are whole again." I had not fully recovered from the procedure but, what he said struck a chord with me. Excitement floods my veins as I can not wait to do something I never thought I would do again. I begin to lift myself with all four legs. I make great progress before my rear legs outpace my front and I fall face-first into the stone floor. Perhaps the medicine does not affect them like it does the rest of me. My snout feels wet from the blood that slowly drains from busting my nose. The Mechanist laughs at the spectacle. I am slightly offended but, it could be worse all things considered. He did just put me back together so I overlook it. He spoke after finishing his tired laugh. "At least we know it all works now. Too bad your maiden voyage came to such an abrupt stop, my friend." When he put it that way the comedy was no longer entirely lost to me. Perhaps, it could have even been hilarious had I not just busted my nose after suffering the worst agony I could possibly conceive. I chuckle lightly at the idea in the end. I decide to just lay down. I look out the door and notice morning had turned into night. Had it really been that long? The mechanist wobbles a bit and collapses kicking up some dust in the air. I go to get up again but he just mouths for me to stop so I stay. He just lay in the middle of the floor for a bit before finally, I hear him snoring. I am not even sure what to think at this point. He did not even make it to his own bed he was so exhausted. Exhaustion has a very strong grip on me, and the effects of the drug were still going strong, surprisingly resulting in me being unable to effectively coordinate myself. I just lay down with nothing else to do. I wait a bit while the soft stinging of my legs disappears, and once the worst of the pain is gone I fall asleep normally for the first time since the attack.