The Girl in the Snow
The young girl clutched her cloak close, shivering and cringing with each barefooted step in the snow. The cold bit deeper than a knife, and her breath came out in ragged gasps, forming small clouds that were quickly torn away by the bitter gusts that howled through the Alborz range.
She stumbled, slumping against the mountain face before pulling herself back to her feet. She took a hesitant step before resuming her slow shuffle, desperately following the footprints ahead of her. She just needed to get home. Where it was warm. Where it was safe.
If she was careful, her mother wouldn't even notice she was still there.
She couldn't have traveled more than 50 feet before she fell for a second time - this time without something to slow her descent. She scrambled, but was unable to right herself this time. The girl couldn't feel her fingers anymore. Or her toes. The numbness was creeping up her limbs, and with it came an overwhelming desire to sleep. The girl knew what that meant - she had seen others fall to the cold before. But knowing death approached didn't make it any easier to fight.
She sensed a familiar presence - a pressing in the back of her mind. Hundreds of legs, arachnids crawling out from under rocks or the base of trees. They raced towards the girl, small bodies spinning silk with unnatural speeds.
"P... Please... S-save yourself... Too c-cold..."
But they wouldn't listen. They never did when she was in danger. Layer by layer, they began to wrap her in silk. A cocoon, sealing in the little heat that the girl had to offer. The girl watched through half-lidded eyes as they worked, her vision growing darker. More spiders joined the effort. Larger ones. Species she had never seen before, drawn by some connection she didn't understand.
Her friends.
Her only family now.
Having left their shelters, they would die in the cold in matter of minutes. They lacked any fat to insulate them, and for more surface area than mass. They could survive - rushing under rocks and into cracks of the cliff face.
But they refused, continuing to weave silk over the girl in intricate yet swiftly constructed layers. They would gladly sacrifice their lives if it meant the girl would persist even a few minutes longer.
...
The web grew thicker. Warmer. But still not enough to save her. Several spiders had already frozen on top of the girls shivering frame, the survivors weaving their bodies into the web to reinforce it.
Too late to matter.
As darkness crept in at the edges of her vision, and she began to embrace the cold, the girl saw a figure approaching through the falling snow. Tall, imposing, and wrapped in ragged black robes. The details were almost impossible to make out in the howling wind or from her delirium. All she noticed was his face.
His face... it was hard for the girl to tell if he was wearing a skull mask, or the flesh had been scraped off to reveal the bone underneath. He stopped just in front of her, gazing down at the shivering lump. The spiders continued their duty - shielding the girl from the cold was far more important than any threat the stranger could present. The figure stopped before her, regarding the child partially encased in silk.
"برّهای، اندر برف منجمد..."
A deep voice. Reverberating. It sunk into her bones - even more than the cold did. The skull didn't move with his words.
An expressionless mask.
"تا که هم کلام ایزد، و هم قهر او را، اندر جهان پراکنده کنید..."
He was unintelligible - the girl only spoke Arabic. With the howling winds, she 'felt' his voice more than actually hearing it.
The girl tried to respond, but her lips wouldn't move - whether it was out of fear or they had frozen shut, she couldn't be sure. The figure knelt down, brushing away the thick silk like a blanket. The spiders don't retaliate. A single arm lifted the girl from the snow, gripping her by the back of her robe and pressing her against the stranger's torso. She was quickly concealed beneath the ragged cloak the man wore, silencing the wind almost instantly.
Words weren't exchanged as her savior took her away. She didn't recognize him, didn't know what he had in mind for her. But in the end, it didn't matter. She'd survive. The girl could feel a twitching at the back of her mind. The spiders. They paused briefly as the stranger walked away, before racing back to their shelters. Within seconds, all that was left was a bundle of silk, and a few dozen of their corpses - legs coiled up like delicate frozen flowers.
The girl finally closed her eyes. Relief.
She pressed herself against the man, his body shielding her from the howling wind and freezing cold. He smelled of sweat, and blood, and death.
She didn't care. As she drifted into unconsciousness, the girl's mind was drawn only to one thing.
His robes felt so warm.
William awoke with a start, panting and clutching at the scars on the back of his head. His circuits burned, though they were the only part of him that felt any warmth - despite the factory being far more insulated after Assassin's renovations, the older man found himself shivering violently. He took measured breaths, his heart slowing and his body slowly returning to normal.
Another dream. Since summoning Assassin, his sleep was plagued with dreams of her. Mostly of her brutal training under the Hashashins. Locked in a dark room for three days and nights, beaten with wooden rods and buried in sand, performing the same knife maneuvers until her hands bled - and those were just what William had seen thus far. Tonight had been much earlier - he barely recognized that girl as Assassin.
William sighed as he pulled himself from the nest of blankets and pillows. He didn't know if these dreams were a typical symptom of the Master-Servant contract, or a unique consequence of his elemental affinity. Perhaps both? That would explain the frequency and intensity of the sympathetic reactions he was having - even now it took an effort to keep his teeth from chattering. He moved over to the row of wigs in the corner of the room, burying himself in morning routine.
William was buttoning up a white dress shirt when he felt a presence behind him. Sometimes he felt like he was getting more perceptive since summoning Assassin - but it was much more likely that she was simply getting acclimated to revealing herself without shocking her Master. She spoke out a few seconds later.
"Concern. Trouble sleeping, Master?"
William finished with the shirt, sliding his suit jacket on as he turned to face his Servant. She looked much different than usual; a transformation that gave him pause. Rather than the familiar, dark garb of the Hashashin that he had grown accustomed to, she was clad in a maid's uniform, a long, muted grey dress falling just above her ankles. The fabric, a sturdy cotton, was unyielding, almost coarse, designed more for practicality than beauty - though even in the dark William was sure that Assassin couldn't help but make the stitch-work exemplary. A pristine white apron was draped across her front, its plainness stark against the somber grey, yet the edges were not entirely without interest; fine lines embroidered in a repeating geometric pattern that seemed to subtly shift and shimmer in the dim light – a trick of the eye, or another of her Mystic Codes? A crisp, white cotton cap perched on her head, obscuring most of her hair. It was a simple, unassuming thing, yet it sat perfectly despite the lack of apparent ribbons securing it - most likely held in place by Assassin's hairs. She held something in one hand, though it was difficult to make out in the dark.
"Just a bad dream. What's with the getup?"
"Analytical. As you have said before, navigating this city in my traditional garb would be quite conspicuous. Playing the role of your domestic servant would allow me to remain close without raising suspicion."
William cocked an eyebrow, his gaze running over the deceptively ordinary attire.
"...Couldn't you just use your invisibility? Doubt anyone will be able to see you following behind me."
No expression crossed the girls face as she performed a small curtsy.
"Confession. I also think it is quite cute. I considered making some for my Ankabuts as well - imagine little Saghir in a tailcoat!" She mimed pulling a suit jacket across her chest, before dropping her hands and looking at William with the same unchanging, deadpan expression she always wore. "Quite dashing."
William's brow twitched slightly as he turned back around. Were the other Master's having to dance around their Servant's peculiarities like he was? Assassin had done well in reinforcing the factory, but time spent making outfits for herself and her spiders was time they could be using to scout out the city, or to construct additional Mystic Codes.
Mystic Codes - William looked at the pair of black gloves near his mirror. He grabbed them, running his fingers along the intricate stitching that etched across the sides. After he had requested them on their first day of experimentation, Hassan had resized the pair and given them to him. She even did as he requested, managing to link the gloves with the rest of his formal wear. As he slid the silk gloves over his hands, he felt an almost imperceptible movement at his wrists. The threads of the glove interweaving with the jacket, which would in turn weave with the pants. It would allow him to store and retrieve things from anywhere on his body, rather than just the gloves themselves.
Apparently, his Elemental Affinity was doing a lot of the heavy lifting here - Assassin mentioned that if she wore the Mystic Codes, without a few hours of proper adjustments and stitching, all it would accomplish would be entangling them and making removal far more tedious than normal.
"Impassioned. Master, observe my latest creation. I believe you will be quite impressed."
He looked at the Servant's extended hand, seeing two small hoops. He reached for one, holding it close to make out the design in the darkness. A bracelet of some kind, hairs, or thread, or whatever she used to make it wrapped so tightly around itself that it almost resembled leather. He slid it on, and Assassin did the same. As soon as she did, he could feel a sensation at the back of his head - a new one, different from the circuits. It was almost like he could 'see' the bracelet on each of their wrists, even with his eyes closed.
"Explanatory. Created from the same thread, intrinsically linked. Even when far apart, the wearer can always sense the other."
She moved her hand behind her back, William sensing the slight movements.
"Confession. Limited time after making adjustments to gloves... Their most useful application is in tracking our movements, though I'm sure you could think of alternate applications."
She was right, though a bit vague. The connections he could sense natively paled in comparison to the bond he could trace between the two bracelets - and by extension, him and Assassin. It would take only a point of his wand in her general direction to swap the two. An almost instant swap, and probably over far greater distances too. Maybe this could be how they move between cities? Assassin moved far faster than a train - she could be in Oxford within a few minutes at most.
William sighed, hand moving to the back of his head. He was agitated - even with her almost constant activity, Assassin wasn't draining enough Magical Energy. It almost felt... Claustrophobic? Clogged? Those weren't right. He couldn't describe the sensation in his head easily - just that it was uncomfortable. Much more bearable with her around than before her summoning, but actively using the energy was better.
He tapped his finger against the hardwood of his desk. Another round of experimentation? He had only scratched the surface the day prior, and with the new Mystic Codes, he had far more options now. Spider-guided bullets were fine, but what about swapping the locks on any door with a portable one he could carry within the gloves? Would make breaking into the other Master's workshops easier, unless they had hellhounds, or griffons, or whatever bullshit wizards had to protect their homes. Or just carry screws and nails around, switch them out with door hinges and make the whole damn thing collapse.
"Concerned. Master?"
The tapping grew louder, more rhythmic and abrasive. A lighter, yes that would work. Same trick with the bullet, write a spider's name on it and send them in, set the whole place ablaze. Even if they can stop the fire, it'll distract them - maybe even burn a spellbook or two if they're lucky. Leaves them open to get shot, blast them from the ceiling where they won't expect, leave a couple holes in their head and let the grey matter fall out the limey cunts-
"Nervous! Master!"
William turned to look at his Servant. She looked the same as always, but her body language was tense, ready to leap towards him. A threat? No - she could have killed him very easily if she planned to. He looked down, saw the knife in his free hand - the same kind Assassin carried with her, the weight unfamiliar in his grip. The tapping had morphed into digging a small groove in the desk with the tip of the blade. He had dug maybe an eighth of an inch without noticing.
When he did get the knife? Did he retrieve it from the gloves? And how come he didn't notice?
He wiped the sweat from his brow. Issue for another time, that.
"I'm fine. Just... Thinking, that's all. C'mon. We're going to check out the train station - maybe test out the new toys while we're there. Worst case, stick with the old plan. After that, scout out Oxford. See if any of the other Masters have caught up to us yet..."
Hassan nodded solemnly, sticking closer behind him than usual as they made their way to the door.