“But why was he standing there?” Ki asked.

“Wha—” Jack literally had no words. There was nothing to say. How did you answer a question like that?

“It’s true, I was standing there,” Orv said.

“Don’t encourage this!” Jack said. “What if she had shot something more important, like your head?”

Ki shrugged. “I wouldn’t have shot his head.”

“I feel like you can’t say that!” Jack responded. He was trying to make the small bunched-up cloak under Orvalys’ head a little more comfortable. The homunculus’ little Tinarian uniform was torn to shreds around where he had been shot.

“I always hit what I’m aiming for,” Ki said simply.

Jack didn’t look at her, he was definitely more than a little annoyed. “Well maybe don’t aim for one of us!”

“I wasn’t sure it was you,” Ki said nonchalantly. “It could have been anyone coming up that hill.”

Jack motioned at Orvalys. “He’s three feet tall! Does he look like anyone to you?”

“I am very unique,” Orv added helpfully.

“It still could have been anyone,” Ki insisted.

Jack drew in his breath. He didn’t know exactly what he was about to say, but he was absolutely certain that whatever it was, he was sure going to say it.

Orvalys interrupted. “I think the leg has got to go.”

“Yeah, you said that before,” Jack turned back to his little friend and inspected the injury closer. The former small, hooved, furry leg was twisted at awkward angles. There was exposed flesh and bone but also a mess of wires and gears and all of it was leaking a fluid that was the same color Orv had used on Jack’s wounds in that alleyway weeks before. Realization struck him all at once.

“Is that… your blood?” he asked quietly.

Ki spoke before Orv could respond. “You need an amputation?”

“Not exactly,” the homunculus said. “There’ll be a bit of cutting involved, but honestly it’s kind of a modular sort of situation—not a huge emergency.”

“Are you in pain?” Jack asked.

“I’ve turned off those specific receptors,” Orvalsy replied. “Unhelpful right now. Anyway, I always carry spare parts.” The homunculus mechanical arm began to whir and click. Pieces of it rearranged and various gears and levers and other metal pieces clattered to the cobblestones.

Orv looked down at the small pile of brass bits. “That should be enough.”

“Enough?” Jack asked. “What do you mean? Enough for what?”

“A new leg,” Orvalys answered.

“Was that not obvious?” Ki asked.

Jack fought down another wave of annoyance. “I meant like… well he said it as if he was expecting us to put it together ourselves.”

“I am expecting you two to put it together,” Orv said plainly.

Jack and Ki just looked at the small creature for a few moments before either could respond.

“You…” Jack said slowly. “You are?”

“All my primary functions have been reverted to preserving my consciousness,” Orv explained. “I’ve lost fine motor detail in my fingers, as well as the computational or calculatory skills necessary to assemble the limb.”

“Oh,” was all Jack said.

“And if we don’t hurry I’ll lose more than that.”

“Well,” Jack fumbled around with the bits of gears and levers and bolts. “How does it fit then? How do I make this?”

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“I don’t know,” Orv said. “I mean, I do know, but right now with my current processing, I can’t know. Does that make sense?”

“None of this makes sense,” Jack said.

Ki leaned down close and put a hand on Orvlays’ small shoulder. “Orf I am truly sorry for the pain I’ve caused you and I will make amends in any way you—”

“I already told you, I’m not feeling any pain,” the homunculus said with a smile. “In fact, I’m rather embarrassed about how much distress I’m causing you two. It really isn’t very convenient is it? And it’s likely not helping the potential of us working together that I’ve already sensed will be necessary for the next little while.”

“Let’s emphasize ‘potential,’” Jack said pointedly. He didn’t look at Ki when he said it but he could feel her glare at him.

“I’d like to see either of you shoot with that degree of accuracy from that distance,” Ki said. “If anything you should be grateful to have access to those skills. I can hit anything. I won’t apologize for that.”

Jack fiddled with the brass parts, trying desperately to find a way for them to fit. “Yeah well, this time it would have been better for you to have missed.”

Ki just looked at him for a second before she got up and walked away. Jack didn’t watch her go, but Orvalys did.

“I think you offended her.”

“Yeah well, I suppose she’ll have to deal with it because I’m building a leg here,” Jack said. He was filled with the frustrating feeling that somewhere inside he knew he shouldn’t have said what he said to Ki before saying it. That wasn’t the Athe, it was just common sense, but why did it matter? She was the one in the wrong.

Jack pushed two small, flexible bands in place around a gearbox but they sprung out, and everything he had been working on clattered to the cobblestones. He looked up at Orvalys and asked, “You really don’t have any idea about how this could work?”

“Again, I have all the ideas about how it works,” Orv said. “I just can’t access them right now.”

Jack looked back down at the mess of parts on the ground in front of him. “Right, right, I just—I’ve always been pretty bad with technology. I can’t imagine how these could fit together—”

In an instant, he realized he was lying.

Somehow, just as he had been saying the words, Jack had the clearest mental image of a complete leg. And not just a complete leg, but a leg completed by him with the memory of how he had created it. It wasn’t so much that he learned how to make it, it was that the image in his mind had been so clear he somehow immediately pre-remembered where each piece went, almost as if it had already been done.

Quickly he put the pieces together and realized they actually fit. It seemed like before he had been trying to put things where they didn’t belong, and now with such a clear image of the mechanisms, any other way would have been ridiculous.

And there it was, in front of him, exactly in the way he had imagined it. He had the memory too of how to diss-attach the injured leg and fit the new one in place. The click was just as satisfying as he had somehow formerly realized it would be.

Orv looked down at the completed leg. He experimentally moved it back and forth and even flexed the mechanical ankle before looking back at Jack.

“Did what I think happened just happen?”

“I—” Jack didn’t know what to say. He looked at the leg and the craftsmanship of it. The mechanism was quite complex and intricate. Gears whirred and metal springs compressed and stretched. It was a slightly strange shape, but it was obvious it would react to the ground the way a leg was supposed to. “I don’t know I just did it.”

“I think this is even better than if I would have designed it,” Orvalys said, taking a few test steps. “It’s a particularly interesting way to use the materials.” He looked up at Jack and quietly asked, “you saw it before it happened didn’t you?”

“I uh—”

“You did,” Orvalys said, nodding slowly. “You drank.”

Before Jack could reply, Ki interrupted him.

“Something happened to the people in this city and I have no idea what,” She said. “Whatever it was, Tinaria is going to pay.”

“We uh… built the leg,” Jack said, pointing toward Orvaly’s new appendage.

“I can see that,” Ki said. “Did you hear what I said, or do you just want me to say that you did a good job?”

“He probably does a little,” Orvalys said quietly.

“What do you mean something happened to them?” Jack asked standing up and taking another look around. He had noticed the empty city before but there turned out to be some details he missed—things like overturned carts and baskets in the street that were probably dropped.

“Something bad,” Ki said. “An attack, or a threat that made them leave or… took them”

Orvalys got up and tested his weight on his new leg. “Or a little of both. It looks like many houses were undisturbed, but a few suffered quite a bit of damage.”

Ki nodded. “So potentially a limited attack, and the rest left in fear of more danger?”

“Or the other way around,” Jack said, looking closer at some of the wreckage. “Maybe most of the people left in anticipation of something, and a few stayed behind and found out what it was.” He turned back to Ki. “Isn’t there something important about this village?”

Ki scoffed, “Important? Of course, it’s important. Livrik is the oldest Yarvan city in the world. It’s ancient and sacred and—”

“And there are things here that aren’t anywhere else?” Orv said. “things of cultural importance? Things like artifacts or art or—”

“Records,” Ki said quietly.

Jack nodded without looking at her, “Ok, so they came to steal something. Thieves looking to steal and sell. What kind of records exactly were—” he stopped suddenly. For a moment he hadn’t caught the crack of emotion in Ki’s voice. He had spoken too quickly, but now he looked over and noticed the tears starting to build in her eyes.

“I’m guessing those records didn’t make it?” Orvalys asked carefully.

Ki didn’t speak. Instead, she just shook her head and then turned and left. Jack and Orv looked at each other.

“Makes sense why she was so ready to shoot someone,” the homunculus said.