A clockwork effigy. Finely made. Not a toy. Not a trinket. A kneeling automaton, its back arched, one arm reaching towards the base it sits on. Built with intimate exactness and impaled through the back by a miniature alchemical sword. The workmanship was exact enough to feel personal. Symbols had been engraved along the blade and into some of the metal body — not decorative marks, but something closer to script or doctrine. Voir plus