From the hill, the village seemed small, but as Armand approached, he perceived the true extent of life unfolding there. Children ran between houses, animals grazed in simple pens, and peasants carried buckets or baskets, their backs bent under the weight of daily labor. No tool appeared to go beyond simple wood or forged iron, no machine facilitated even the smallest task. Everything was slow, methodical, repetitive.
Armand watched a man struggle with a primitive water pump. Every effort was visible in the strain of his arms, in every drop of sweat on his forehead. His hands twitched: he could do better. His knowledge of mechanics, hydraulics, and robotics throbbed in his mind like an impatient orchestra.
"If I can design something… something that works without magic, without interfering with it…" he murmured to himself.
He withdrew momentarily to a small grove at the edge of the village. His hands moved instinctively, drawing diagrams in the air, visualizing gears, pistons, levers, and most importantly, the simplified artificial intelligence he could integrate into an automaton. The goal was not just to create a machine, but a mechanical creature capable of understanding and performing simple tasks: carrying water, sorting seeds, assisting with harvests.
He scavenged some fallen wood and flat stones, improvising a first miniature prototype in his mind. "If I can build this model…," he thought, "then I can expand the concept."
The villagers watched from a distance, curious yet wary. Whispers spread quickly: a stranger… capable of moving things without magic.
As evening fell, Armand settled into an abandoned attic at the village's edge. There, he could work in secret, using bits of wood, recovered metal, gears, and springs that he shaped precisely. Every piece was meticulously considered, every movement programmed in his mind before even being assembled.
After several hours of silent work, he gazed at his creation. Before him stood a small humanoid automaton, barely the size of a child, yet with surprisingly fluid joints and an elegant mechanical structure. Armand activated it. The gears creaked slightly, then the automaton's arm rose, performing the intended gesture.
"Perfect…" Armand whispered. "You will help the villagers… and perhaps show them there's another way to work."
The next morning, he descended into the village, the automaton carrying a bucket of water. The villagers froze, mouths agape, some nearly shouting in fear. The automaton followed Armand faithfully, placing the water with a precision surpassing that of humans.
But this demonstration quickly drew the attention of forces Armand had not anticipated. A tall figure appeared between the houses, floating slightly above the ground. Her eyes glowed with a supernatural light, and a hand raised, magic vibrating around her like an invisible veil.
"What… are you doing here, stranger?" The voice was clear, authoritative, and charged with power. "Your creations are forbidden."
Armand felt the magical flow around him react to this presence. It was different from anything he had sensed in the grove or during his awakening. The magic was aggressive, insistent, almost conscious. He glanced at his automaton, ready to use it to show that science could also defend itself.
"I mean no harm," Armand replied calmly. "I only want to help."
The mage laughed sharply, her hair floating as if animated by its own force. "Help? You think a mere assembly of wood and metal can rival the power of magic?"
Before Armand could respond, she raised her hands, and a jet of pure energy shot toward him. Armand felt the air compress, and his scientific instinct took over. He analyzed the trajectory of the magical blast, calculated his automaton's reaction time, and commanded mentally:
"Dodge and protect."
The automaton moved in perfect synchronization, pivoting gracefully. The spell grazed it, deflected by a small shield Armand had improvised within the structure, based on simple physical principles: lever, spring, shock absorber. The magic created a wave of impact that pushed villagers back, but the automaton held firm.
The mage frowned. "You… you control your creations with… conscious intention?"
Armand stepped forward, hands open. "Yes. I don't yet master your magic, but I understand the laws governing things. My machines are not a challenge, but an alternative."
A silence fell. The villagers watched, fascinated and terrified. The automaton, simple as it seemed, had withstood pure magic thanks to scientific principles no one here had ever seen.
Syra, the mage, examined Armand more closely. "You are… different," she murmured to herself. "You… understand magic, but in a… mechanical way."
Armand felt a strange excitement. He had taken the first step to prove that science could coexist with magic, yet he knew this initial contact would attract the attention of more powerful forces. Magical orders, jealous mages, worried nobles. Perhaps even those who would see his inventions as blasphemy to be eradicated.
"Listen to me," he said to the villagers, summoning courage. "These machines are not your enemies. They can help you work less, harvest more, protect your homes."
An old woman stepped forward, cane tapping gently against the ground. "And if they draw the wrath of the mages?" she asked. "What will we do then?"
Armand thought for a moment, heart racing. "Then we will learn to defend these ideas. Together. But I will not stay silent. I came here to change this world, and to make it better."
The mage, Syra, still stared at him, a mix of suspicion and admiration in her eyes. "If you continue down this path," she murmured, "you will not be able to turn back. Magic will see you as a threat, and it will not hesitate to strike."
Armand nodded. He already sensed the magnitude of the task: not only to convince the village and build machines, but to navigate a world where magic defended the old order against any innovation. Every invention would be an act of rebellion, every scientific demonstration a challenge to the status quo.
Yet he did not flinch. He looked at his automaton, its artificial eyes glowing simply but intelligently. It was his first creation, but also his first ally in this unknown world. Together, they would forge a new path, where science and magic might meet, challenge each other, but perhaps one day, complement each other.
Night fell over the village, stars glittering above mysterious mountains. Armand felt a shiver of pure excitement. He had crossed the first threshold. The unknown remained, dangerous yet full of promise. He now knew that his life in Aelyth would not be peaceful, but each obstacle would be an opportunity to understand, to create, and to push the boundaries of the possible.
And in the shadows, Syra conjured a magical symbol, fixing it atop the attic where Armand had worked. A silent promise: she would watch him, guided by fear and curiosity. The conflict had begun.