Pride filled Azazel’s heart when Ember and Neji awoke salivating to the smoky aroma.

The two humans sniffed the air and licked their lips. Ember craned her neck to get a better look at the campfire. Upon seeing them awaken, Azazel hastily signed his name to the letter he’d been composing and slipped it into the send-box for Lady Calimei to read.

Over the campfire stood a spit, on which Azazel roasted a goose. His own mouth watered in anticipation of the meal to come.

Ember sat up on her bedroll, the girl’s blonde hair resembling a bird’s nest. More specifically, a bird’s nest after the mother had engaged a bobcat in mortal combat over the fates of her chicks. Azazel stifled his laughter at the sight. Ember stretched out her arms and stretched her jaw in a long yawn. “Breakfast, hmm? Kind of you, your majesty.” The girl reached into her bedroll and produced a cigarette.

No sooner had the rolled tobacco touched her lips then Azazel snatched it away. “What did I tell you, Ember?”

The girl stared up at him with irritated eyes, the bags under which made them appear all the more unpleasant. “Right,” she grunted. “Forgot. Sorry, your majesty.”

Neji stood over the campfire and breathed in deep. “Oh, the goose smells positively wonderful! Where did you learn to cook so well, darling?”

Azazel smiled. “I was fully grown by the time I even tasted meat. Up in the heavenly cities, we eat fruit. Constantly. And sometimes honeyed bread. It sustains us well enough, but it gets a little bland after a while.”

Ember rubbed her eyes. “Wait… I thought people gave offerings of meat to the angels all the time.”

“They do,” said Azazel. “But only those at the top of the hierarchy get to eat it. Anyway, the first time I tasted meat was when one village I visited served me roast boar. Oh! It tasted of salt and smoke, and it was beautiful! So, I found the cook… Reece was his name. And I asked him to teach me how to make the same kinds of miracles he’d made. Over the course of the next year I kept going back to learn from Reece whenever I could make an excuse to do so.”

Neji’s stared at the cooking goose, her fingers wiggling. “Seems to me Reece was a wonderful teacher, and you a lovely student.”

“I hope so.” Azazel took hold of the stick which held the goose over the fire and lifted it. “Here, Neji, cut it into thirds if you would.”

“Yes, sire.”

While Neji set to work dividing up the roast goose, Azazel took a moment to look out at the sprawling, green hills around him, just as the sun peered over the black peaks on the horizon. Dew glistened on the grass, and birds chirped their peaceful songs. The fire crackled, and the gentle stream bubbled over the round rocks in its path.

In the distance, Azazel could barely make out the shape of Brook Hold, where his love remained, waiting patiently for him.

Steel footsteps in the tall grass drew Azazel’s attention to the Knight of Thorns as he drew near. The Knight of Thorns gestured with his gauntlet. “Your kingdom, highness.”

Azazel smiled and rested his fists on his hips. “Indeed.”

“Have you a queen yet?” the Knight of Thorns asked. “Even a king who might live forever must plan for the future.”

Azazel’s countenance fell into melancholy for a mere moment, but he forced his grin to return and said, “I have proposed to my lady.”

The Knight of Thorns crossed his arms and tilted his helmet to one side. “But she’s not given you a straight answer yet?”

A squawk from the knight’s riding condor broke the conversation. Azazel sighed in relief as the Knight of Thorns turned to feed the enormous bird rather than press him for an answer. The riding condor happily ate scraps of dried meat from the knight’s gauntlet.

“There there…” The Knight of Thorns brushed back the plume of feathers on the condor’s head. “Good girl, Strix.”

Strix cooed and pressed her forehead up against the Knight of Thorns’ breast-plate.

Impolite lip-smacking and slurping snapped Azazel’s attention away from the knight and his condor. Ember, with both cheeks bulging and the goose’s mostly-chewed leg in her hands, met his gaze. She gave an apologetic look before consuming her meal in more polite silence. “Sorry, it’s just so damn good.”

Neji held out a flat river stone to Azazel, upon which sat the goose’s breast, one thigh, and one wing. Azazel reached for the plate, and when he did his fingers brushed against Neji’s. His eyes met hers for a second, which caused him to blush and look away before taking his meal.

“So… Father Jasper.” Azazel turned to the undead priest of Rakos, but saw that Jasper knelt upon the ground with his back toward the rising sun. His bony hands rested upon his knees, and he rocked back and forth. Jasper’s hood muffled his words, but Azazel was certain he was in deep prayer. With Jasper busy, Azazel turned his attention elsewhere. “So, Ember…”

The girl looked up at him with wide eyes which clearly anticipated a reprimand.

Azazel softened the look in his eyes to put her at ease. “Father Jasper told me it wasn’t just his undead minions which rescued me, one of your automatons helped.”

Ember nodded vigorously and, without a word, reached up into her saddleback on the back of the mechanical bull and produced a small metal orb. She tapped her thumb on one side, and the ball tumbled from her hands. The rusty sphere made a grinding sound, then split open and an iron stem with copper petals rose from within. Just before the ball would have collided with the ground, the petals blurred around the stem. The air lifted the orb higher off the ground, and its blade-like petals extended further out to bring the ball higher.

Azazel grinned at the automaton and reached out his hand to bump the underside. “That’s great! What do you call this one?”

“Screwy Flower,” said Ember, a proud smirk on her lips.

Azazel chuckled. “Screwy Flower? I can’t imagine how you came up with that one. So, Screwy Flower flew in to save me?” Azazel looked at the hovering metal ball. “Were you the only one of Ember’s little friends who helped me, brave little orb?”

Ember shook her head. With meat shoved into the corner of just one cheek she said, “He had help from this guy.”

She rolled another rusty orb on the ground. When the ball stopped rolling, part of the metal covering twisted like irises opening. From within, two needle-thin arms emerged. One had a hook on the end, the other a tiny, red gem. Azazel had been about to declare the little thing cute, until a stream of fire blasted from the red gem on the end of one hand.

Four more irises opened up underneath and gave the orb legs like an insect. From the top a head arose, with gleaming red eyes. Another stream of fire spewed forth from its eyes.

Azazel chuckled. “Fun. I love your work, Ember.”

“Yes, little friends to bail you out of trouble,” the Knight of Thorns said in a dark tone.

“Pardon?” Azazel asked.

The Knight of Thorns stared at him through that dark slit in his vizor. “I hope you will pardon me, your majesty, but if you had walked the winding path as you were supposed to Miss Ember’s toys wouldn’t have needed to come to your aid.” The Knight of Thorns pointed back to Father Jasper. “Neither would he, or the undead minions who rose to his aid.” The Knight of Thorns turned to Ember. “Tell me, girl, did you lose any automatons to the jidra in my garden?”

Ember sighed. “Just one. Oli.”

The Knight of Thorns’ stern tone did not change. “How long does it take you to make one automaton?”

“One that small?” Ember placed a long stalk of wild wheat between her teeth and shoved her hands in her pockets. “Probably nine hours when I’ve got all the parts handy.”

The Knight of Thorns nodded his hollow helmet. “A shame human lives cannot be replaced so quickly.”

“Now, what are you saying?” Azazel grunted. “She did nothing wrong! According to Chronos’ dogma, value is time. She clearly exchanged something less valuable to save me. I was in the egg for a year before I came into being, but the automaton she sacrificed was made in nine hours.”

“I’ll agree that she was just acting to defend her king.” The Knight of Thorns pointed an accusing finger at Azazel’s face. “You are the one who has done wrong! Many will sacrifice their lives for you from now on, and they will justify their sacrifice by that very dogma. If you reign for more than a generation, your worth in their eyes will become immeasurable, and they will sacrifice even their very souls for you. If you are good to your people, and you reign for more than a hundred years, they will be willing to commit atrocities they never dreamed they’d be capable of.”

All the camp sat in silence.

Except for Jasper, who continued his prayers under his breath. Assuming he had breath.

The Knight of Thorns continued to the agape faces of his companions. “You must not treat any sacrifice, no matter how small you might see it, for granted. Start taking little things like this girl’s creations for granted, and you may one day find yourself forgetting those who died to keep you on the throne.”

Neji stood between the Knight of Thorns and Azazel, her gleaming sword drawn. “You shall not be beastly to our king, sir!”

The Knight of Thorns held up both his hands to show he had not drawn his sword. “A wise king heeds counsel and is open to criticism because he seeks always to do what is right. King Ozz! Look carefully upon the consequences of your actions and know that this is the smallest glimpse of what your reign shall be.”

The Rose Crown grew heavy on Azazel’s brow, and beads of sweat stuck it to his flesh. The Knight of Thorns was right, Azazel had made a bad decision and it had a cost. He’d treated it flippantly because it had seemed insignificant, but the longer he looked at Ember the more he took stock of who she obviously was.

A ten-year-old girl who smoked?

A ten-year-old girl who used such foul language?

A ten-year-old girl who lost an eye to one of her inventions?

Ember was either an orphan or a runaway. She’d crossed the threshold of having to care for herself long ago. So long ago that she was already learning how to take care of someone, or something, else. Worn down by the world, she was a grouchy old mother to these automatons who’d just begun to live. Oh, Ember had said all it cost her to make that automaton was nine hours, but when she stared at the broken parts in her hands and her eyes misted up Azazel knew the truth.

“Oli can’t be repaired, can he?” Azazel asked.

Ember did not look up at him. “No. His adonium core broke. Everything I ever taught him is lost.” She hung her head. “He didn’t even learn how to speak yet…”

Azazel stepped closer and rested a hand on her shoulder.

“Thanks…” said Ember. “Hey, master… you’re an angel, so, you’d know… do automatons have souls like we do?”

“Well, the god of labors teaches us they do not…” Azazel began. When he saw Ember bite inside her lower lip and her chin scrunch up, he stammered, “Umm… but I think… We have automatons in the heavenly cities too, you know? The galgalim?”

Ember nodded her head, so Azazel continued. “I spoke with one of their makers once, and he told me that a part of his soul goes into making each galgalim. A teeny tiny part.” Azazel pointed a finger at Ember’s chest and looked her in the eyes. “So, when you make your automatons, they have something like a soul. A part of your soul. And when they break… or… well…” Azazel sighed, “when they die, that piece of your soul returns to you. Does that make sense.”

Ember screwed her eyebrows together in confusion but nodded anyway.

Azazel scratched his head. “So, they never really leave you. Oli will always be with you.”

Ember wiped her nose on her arm. “Thank you. I don’t know if what you said is true…” she smiled and nodded her head, “but it sounds good to me.”

The Knight of Thorns clapped his gauntlets together in applause. “You’ve taught an excellent lesson today, your majesty. It would be wise not to forget the one you learned.”

“I’m sure he will remember it.” Father Jasper pushed himself up to his feet and approached the group. “He’s as callow as any other youth, sure, but he has that almost undefinable quality which makes a king.”

Azazel tilted his head to one side. “What quality is that?”

Jasper shrugged. “I said it was almost undefinable. I’m flattered that you’d think I’m one of the people who can define it.”