“May I, Father?” asked the deep, monotone voice. The way the figure held the cloak closed, it looked as if he’d thrown it on in a hurry when Brin had knocked on the door. Pants, boots, and a shirt that would fit someone seven feet tall sat near Ademir’s work table, and there were all sorts of tools and things out, as if he were in the middle of a project. Or a repair.

Ademir stared hard into Brin’s eyes, as if weighing him. He nodded. “Go ahead.”

The robe fell to the ground.

The first two words that popped into Brin’s head were “handsome squidward.” Ademir’s familiar was carved to look like the perfect exemplar of male beauty. A square jaw, prominent chin, full lips, intelligent eyes underneath a slightly narrowed brow–the only imperfect part of his face was the nose. It was a bit too long and bumped as if it had been broken a few times–a match for Ademir’s.

The artificial man was carved to look like a prime specimen of the male physique, although thankfully the careful attention to detail didn’t make it to his waist. The puppet was carved mostly from wood, but reinforced in several places with steel, tin, and even gemstones.

Brin knew right away he was looking at a masterpiece, and not just because of the handsome face. Even as a statue this was the type of thing that belonged in a museum, but the way he moved elevated it to another level. The wooden pieces fit together so seamlessly that Brin could barely tell they weren’t all one piece. The way the puppet leaned forward in interest, the slight squint to his eyes, the crooked eyebrow, if Brin squinted he could believe this was a real, living being.

“What’s your name?”

“I do not have one yet. Father requested that I choose my own name.” He had a full, resonant voice, though a bit monotone. Not necessarily in a robotic way, more like he was simply a very calm person.

Brin turned to Ademir. “What do you call him?”

Ademir blinked twice, his expression inscrutable. Brin figured he wasn’t going to get an answer until Ademir eventually said, “Son.”

Brin nodded as if that were perfectly natural. He might be the first person who’d seen Ademir’s familiar. He was definitely the first non-[Witch]. He wouldn’t punish the [Crafter] for trusting him with this.

Brin looked back at the big familiar and grinned. “Well, I have to say. You are so awesome! Even without a weapon, what you did to that undead! You stomped him flat! What other kinds of things can you do? And your eyes! That’s my glass, isn’t it? With gemstones in them? Emerald, it looks like. You know, Ademir could’ve just asked me to mold them into shape, it must’ve taken forever to carve them so perfectly like that. Oh, but we should figure out a name first.”

He’d started pacing back and forth in his excitement, but he stopped. “How about Pinnochio? It’s from a story where I'm from where a man builds a puppet who comes alive. The puppet dreams of becoming a real boy someday, and eventually he does.”

“No,” said the familiar. “I am already real. I am already complete.”

“Deathbot 2000,” said Brin, half-joking.

He tilted his head to the side, actually considering it. “What does the 2000 signify?”

“It makes you sound futuristic. Like, you’re so advanced that it must be the future.”

“I like that,” said the familiar, not seeing Ademir’s wince. “But Deathbot is not acceptable. Father insists that I am more than a killing machine.”

“I said you should pick your own name,” said Ademir.

“Correct. But if you dislike it then it is not acceptable.”

Brin snapped his fingers when he came up with the perfect name. “Ademsi.”

“Ah. Ha ha. As in, little Ademir. Ha ha ha!” The familiar’s laugh was just him saying the words “ha ha ha”. He probably didn’t have lungs. If Brin had to guess, there was an enchantment projecting the words, and the familiar was making his lips move out of politeness.

“Ha ha ha,” he laughed again. “Approved. I will be Ademsi 2000.”

Ademir’s eyes widened. “What? Just like that? We’ve spent ages trying to pick a name!”

Ademsi 2000 turned around with jarring swiftness. “You don’t like it? Am I overstepping myself by naming myself after you?” His voice pitched up, breaking the monotone. His eyes must not have been emeralds after all, because they changed from green to blue.

Ademir waved his arms in denial. “No, no, no! I love it! I’m honored. Pleased to meet you, Ademsi.”

“Ademsi 2000,” the puppet corrected.

Ademir flicked a quick look of irritation towards Brin, before opening his arms wide. “Ademsi 2000. Of course. Come here.”

Ademsi’s eyes switched to purple, and he wrapped Ademir in a hug. The [Crafter] looked kind of small in the golem’s huge, muscular arms.

“Nice to meet you, Ademsi 2000,” said Brin, holding out his hand.

Ademsi looked down at it. “What is the significance of this?”

“It’s a handshake,” answered Ademir. “You clasp his hand, but not hard enough to break it.”

“I understand. Acceptable.” Ademsi’s hand shot out like lightning, but despite the speed, his grip was gentle. Gentle, but completely unyielding. Brin let go, and Ademsi followed suit. “A handshake. A gesture of trust and restraint. For acquaintances?”

“Or even friends!” said Brin. “Hey, I make glass and I heal from cuts really fast. What kind of cool stuff can you do?”

“Behold,” said Ademsi. His eyes moved from purple to yellow. He held out the same arm that he’d used to shake Brin’s hand, and it split in half. Brin hadn’t even been able to see the seam before, but they angled on perfect little gears and swung to the side. Ademsi’s hand flipped around, and was replaced by a hand-sized saw blade. The arm snapped back to place, and the blade buzzed as it began to spin.

Ademsi casually lifted up a piece of scrap wood and tossed it in the air. He swiped straight through it with his buzzsaw, cutting it in half in the air.This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“Whoa,” Brin said.

Ademsi switched his hand back, and then his chest opened up, revealing a wall with several tubes. He heard a soft whisper, and Ademsi closed his body again. It shut perfectly with a click, so smoothly that Brin couldn’t see where it opened up anymore.

“Look behind you,” said Ademsi.

A crossbow bolt was stuck several inches deep in the wall of Ademir’s workshop.

Brin clapped. “That was amazing!”

He [Inspected] Ademsi.

Ademsi 2000. A large wooden doll. He is enchanted and designed with many combat abilities. He is Ademir’s familiar.