She beat at its scratched surface with the flat of one of her blades, leaving her own marks in the ancient timber.

“I am here,” she grated. She had no mouth, and though she still remembered what it was to have one, it wasn’t strange to feel her hidden metal parts move, produce sounds. This was how she’d always been meant to be – of that much she was certain.

“I am here,” she repeated, and beat on the door once more. “O Almighty King! I am thine!”

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

Nothing. No wind. No change, of any kind. Not even a feeling.

It was beyond her to feel anger or hate. She knew what she had to do.

She backed away a few paces, then folded herself, kneeling, prostrating herself before the great arched door.

“I am here, and here will I wait,” she clicked, speaking only to herself. “When they need me, they will take me in. But I did it. I am here."

* * *

She never knocked again, never made her presence known.

* * *

It was enough for her that she was here.

* * *

Even in this, even in this emptiness, I serve the King’s will.

* * *