The doll development facility was labyrinthine and even Artur’s well trained sense of direction floundered in its many interconnected corridors. Finally, pride gave way to a desire to actually get out, and when he passed a guard doll standing in an alcove at one of the many intersections Artur stopped and asked, “How do I get to the exit from here?”

Obligated to answer any living being so long as its master had not given it orders otherwise, the doll was quiet for a moment, then listed off a relatively simple set of directions in a stiff, grinding voice. Unlike the two works of art Itisa had sent with Tosuli to fetch Artur, this large, armored doll had been constructed to protect the building, so its voice had clearly been an afterthought. The inquisitor thanked it out of habit, though, and started to leave until a thought occurred to him.

“Have you seen any other dolls moving around the facility tonight? Besides your fellow guards,” Artur asked keenly when he doubled back to stand before the construct again.

Again, a moment of silence. “No,” it answered bluntly.

“Alright,” Artur said, scratching absently at his jaw while he mulled over the seemingly insurmountable problem that had landed on his plate. Recalling the diagram Itisa hadn’t allowed him to remove from the lab, the inquisitor tried again. “What about an outlander with black wings?” he asked, spreading his own a little as an example.

“Yes,” the doll answered after a moment’s consideration.

When it didn’t continue, Artur remembered the thing wasn’t built with conversations in mind and pressed, “How long ago, and in what direction?”

“Three hours and twenty-seven minutes. That way.”

The doll pointed in the direction Artur had been told to go and the inquisitor felt safe assuming it, too, had headed straight for the exit.

“Thanks,” he said, then started off at a brisk pace.

Short on sleep though he was, the exhaustion Artur had felt questioning the wall that was Ascendant Itisa washed away as he found himself on the trail. However much he might dislike a lot of his work, the thrill of the chase never got old. Granted, this was his first time looking for a lost doll, but it did add the spice of variety, at least.

Artur stopped and looked around when he finally made it back outside. The Ascendant had insisted the doll wouldn’t be able to get far without whatever part it was missing, but ‘far’ was relative when a working pair of wings was thrown into the mix.

Now, where would I go if I’d been locked up in a lab for Divinity knows how long?

The answer came to Artur almost immediately and the inquisitor glanced skyward. He had no idea if a doll would have the same impulse he would, but with little more than a gut feeling to go on, the inquisitor took to the air.

It was still dark out as Artur’s wings carried him easily up above the city, but a faint glimmer on the horizon told him dawn wasn’t far off. It wouldn’t be long before the city began to wake in earnest, making Artur’s task infinitely more difficult, so the inquisitor focused on the job at hand rather than the pleasant play of the cool night air over his pinions.

The city streets lay sprawled below the man in orderly rays and curves, like a massive spiderweb radiating outward from the palace at its center— the seat of the Ascendant Council’s power. The surface of its cream colored, seven towers and interconnected walls were perfectly smooth, jutting sharp but graceful into the sky like a crown worn by the city itself. Every building in the capital was constructed of the same material and built in a similar style at the council’s behest, if on a less grade scale, giving the impression of a harmonious, homogeneous, whole.

The perfect symmetry of the palace’s towers made any slight aberration in form stand out like a beacon that immediately drew Artur’s eye when he ascended high enough in the air. Someone was standing on the roof of the palace’s east-most tower, though given how high the structure was, only someone as high up as the inquisitor would have been able to spot the intruder— he was invisible from the ground.

Given the circumstances and the hour, Artur was confident he’d found his target so he picked up the pace with a powerful beat of his wings and closed the distance between himself and the roof of the palace. As he got closer, the figure became clearer and the inquisitor knew he had his man (or doll) the moment it flared large, dark wings and plunged off the roof and into the shadows below.

Artur gave chase, eyes narrowed as the cool night air howled past his ears, dragging at the inquisitor’s hair and clothes when he tucked his wings and dove after his prey. The doll was fast, cunning, and hard to spot in the darkness but Artur kept pace, waiting for an opening to strike.

It didn’t take long for an opportunity to present itself as the doll’s previously precise wing-strokes began to falter so it only narrowly avoided careening into the side of a building while Artur chased him down an avenue. Apparently deciding it might have better luck in the open sky, the doll cut upwards at a sharp angle, rolling to one side to gain momentum before beating its wings hard for extra altitude, clearly aiming for the palace again.

Artur swore under his breath but gave chase, wondering if perhaps it was trying to tire him out. Faulty part or not, all it had to do was wait for him to get tired before dropping out of sight again, meaning this was a race against time more than distance… or so he’d thought.

Defying all expectations, the doll dropped out of the air and landed right back where it’d started on the roof of the easternmost palace tower and, unwilling to let the opening pass him up, Artur pounced. His prey dodged out of the way as the inquisitor landed, but Artur managed to grab him by one wing and used it to drag him in close. He’d expected some resistance from the doll at this point, obviously, but what he hadn’t expected was for it to come at him swinging.

The doll’s articulated fist hit Artur square in the jaw and the inquisitor saw stars. Pursuing literally any other fugitive the inquisitor would have never been so stupid or left himself so open, but like everyone else in Asarahil he knew, for a fact, that no doll could harm a living being— it was the commandment engraved on the core of their being upon which all else was built.

Was this why Ascendant Itisa had been so intent on getting it back?

The doll swung again, but this time Artur was ready. He grabbed its arm as it closed the distance between them, then used its momentum to flip it over his back, using his own wings to force it up and over until it landed face-up on the roof with a crash. The inquisitor dropped and pinned it in place with his arms and legs, bringing him face to face with the construct at last.

The diagram he’d been presented by Itisa really didn’t do the artistry of the doll’s face justice— if not for the fact that its skin stopped at its collarbone, you never would have guessed it wasn’t alive. It was quite handsome by anyone’s standard, clearly designed to charm with its forest-green eyes, rough-cut brown hair, and affably beguiling, if lop-sided, grin.

“Fair caught,” it said in a warm tenor with a pleasant rasp to it— nothing at all like the stilted gravel of the guard doll outside the lab. “Do me a favor before you take me back?”

Still holding the doll in place against the roof, Artur gave a disbelieving snort. “You punched me in the face— why do I owe you a favor? If anything, you owe me one,” the inquisitor groused, taken aback by the mere suggestion from a doll of all things.

The doll’s admittedly genial grin widened fractionally. “Maybe,” it agreed and turned his gaze from Artur’s face to gaze out towards the distant horizon instead. “Either way I won’t be around to pay you back.” It looked back to the inquisitor again and continued, “Do me a kindness instead? You seem the sort.”

Artur fixed the doll with a flat look and the doll laughed at him. Laughed at him!

“Please?”

His mouth twisted, as if trying to stifle the words that came out of it next, but Artur still caved out of sheer curiosity and asked, “What do you want?”

“See, knew you were the sort. They’ll never let me die in peace, but let me watch the sunrise before you take me back?”

Flabbergasted, Artur said, “Dolls don’t die.”

“Don’t I know it,” the doll mused ruefully. “So, what do you say? You’ll have no trouble taking me back after that.”

Staring down into the doll’s face, it was far too easy for Artur to see a man making a final request and it unsettled him right down to his core. Unable to hold the construct’s gaze any longer, Artur relented and got to his feet, but kept a wary eye on it. “No sudden moves,” he warned.

“Don’t worry,” the doll said as it forced itself into a seated position with juddering, unsteady movements that made its mechanical nature more obvious than ever. “Itisa took my tertiary core. I’m all out of sudden, I promise.”

The light that had been crawling its way over the horizon blossomed in earnest then and they watched the sun's rays spill over the city like the tide, painting it stunning shades of gold and pink. It was an awe-inspiring sight to behold from there atop the palace and for a while Artur allowed himself to enjoy it in a way he rarely was able to.

It didn’t last long, however, and as the sun began to climb higher, Artur heaved a sigh, then said, “Alright, lets go.” When the doll didn’t respond right away, the inquisitor frowned and reached over to give its shoulder an impatient shake. “I said let's go.”

A slight touch was all it took to topple the doll onto its side listless heap and the pull of gravity started it sliding down the slope of the tower roof.

Startled, Artur swore and lunged after it, grunting a little at the weight as he pulled the doll up into his arms and found that it was dead.