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THE BIRTH OF THE ARTIST

They say that one in every thousand people is special and one in every million, an unparalleled genius. Nascal Mehirim is one in a billion.

Since childhood he showed an inordinate talent to create, a skill that surpassed even the greatest masters of the world. With such gift there was never any doubt that, if he wanted, he could have become anything that he desired.

But Nascal did not care for such things, since his only passion were the marionettes. When he was a little kid his parents took him to a theatre where, for the first time, he saw what would become his obsession. These simple figures of wood and metal, artificial beings posing as people, fascinated the kid in an incomprehensible way. And it was then, at such early age, when he decided to devote his life to them.

Year after year Nascal learned everything about their construction and handling, developing unique methods to give them more realism and mobility. With time his works became incomparable, so perfect that it was difficult to distinguish them from real living beings. His marionettes were valued as masterworks and appreciated everywhere.

And only now, just turned twenty-five, Nascal is really pleased; when everybody recognizes that he is the greatest artist in the world.

NIGHT OF THE COUNCIL

Nascal entered the hall where the Council of Brax was taking place. The greatest artists and creators of the world met once every decade under those walls; different civilizations, even "nonhuman" creatures went there to show the wonders they had created over the years. Naturally only the very best could attend, those whose fame had crossed all frontiers. For many of them the simple fact of having been invited represented an honour, but to Nascal it was quite the opposite. They should feel honoured by his attendance.

The puppet master walked thought the room trying to pass unnoticed. He paid little attention to several uninspired works that only reminded him why he was superior to everyone else.

Nascal smiled ruefully. Although he did not expect too much from others, he had wished to find at least something to rival with his talent.

Lost in these thoughts, a distant word caught his attention. Someone had mentioned Gaudemus, "The Creator of Wonders”, whose fame had reached even Nascal’s ears. Apparently he had also been invited and a group of people were talking to him not too far away. Interested by his fame, Nascal approached him to share some anecdotes with a fellow "genius". To his surprise, the legendary creator was much younger than he had expected and was easy to shake his hand and exchange a polite greeting.

Nascal was about to ask about the works that he was exposing in the Council when the whole room became silent; everyone whispered that Gaudemus had just arrived. At that moment the confused Nascal understood what they meant and a chill of terror ran through his spine. The person he was talking with was not a living being, but a doll.

"Work of Gaudemus" was what he had heard before from the people.

Even if it was only for a moment, the mere idea that he had not noticed such thing overwhelmed the mind of the puppet master. Frantically his eyes began to gaze closely at all the works exposed by Gaudemus. Their mere sight burned his retinas but at the same time, he was unable to look away from them. The feeling of anxiety that oppressed his chest grew until it became pain. He even had trouble breathing in the same room which stored such wonders. Unable to wait any more, he staggered out of the room and did not stop running until he was outside. Then Nascal cried and laughed as hard as he could.

He had been blind all the time. In his egotism, he thought that he was on top of the world when he was only standing on a small hill. Only in that moment he realized that his work was far from having reached its full potential.

That night would change his life completely. He would create greater works. He would surpass Gaudemus. Surpass them all.

From that moment, his obsession would be perfection.

THE ULTIMATE WORK
Nascal suddenly awoke. For months he had been unable to sleep well and that night had been particularly bad, something which he blamed to the emotion of being so close to finishing his work. Washing his face he noticed the terrible way he looked in the mirror, and thought that very soon he would have to be ready to return to society.

Nascal was unsure of how much time had passed since he visited the Council of Brax. After that night, he invested his vast fortune in creating a secluded mansion away from the civilized world, a huge and well-equipped workshop in which he could devote body and soul to his work, free from distractions.
It had been years, or maybe even decades, since the last time he had contact with another human being. But loneliness meant little to him. All that mattered was that he was close to reach his goal.

During the previous years just improving his creative talent has not been enough for Nascal; his goal was way higher. He devoted day after day to research the same process that Gaudemus developed to make his works, becoming an unrivalled expert in lost science and supernatural rituals. With such unusual tools, he managed to create countless animated puppets which were able to move by themselves; the very ones that now protected his mansion and took care of its maintenance.

But they all were just prototypes for his definitive work. The ultimate puppet, an artificial being so perfect that would not be aware that it was not "alive".

Solemnly Nascal went down to the heart of his workshop where his most valued masterpiece waited for him. On the table was a body lying; any observer would think without a doubt that it was a true human being. It had the same appearance as its creator, as identical as two drops of water.

The master puppeteer smiled. In the next encounter with Gaudemus it would be his marionette who would greet him, an ironic joke that only he would be able to understand.

After reviewing for hours the status of the project, Nascal determined that it was a matter of days to finish it. Only a few pieces were missing, which should be stored in his secondary workshop.

With unusual anxiety he walked to the north wing in search of them. It had been a long time since he had last visited that area of the mansion, and he was not even really sure why he stopped going there.

Upon entering the room the master puppeteer was struck by the terrible state of the place. He didn’t remember having forsaken the place for so long. Without giving it too much importance, Nascal walked to where the pieces were stored, but he saw something in his way there that puzzled him.

There, sitting in the workshop, was a corpse holding the parts that Nascal had come for. His flesh, rotted and dried, was in pretty bad shape, suggesting that it had been in that place for a long time.

Surprised Nascal approached to examine the body, but before he could do it the puppet master became completely paralyzed with terror.

Because, despite being worn and wasted, there was no doubt.

The corpse had exactly the same face as him.

A world of Puppets

Vaguely, the consciousness of the being that once was Nascal awakened.

He looked at the world through the hundreds of eyes that were his "terminals", independent puppets connected to his senses.

The entity had witnessed the passage of time with the perspective that only immortality could grant, and was satisfied with the outcome. The only thing that he came to regret was the death of Gaudemus, who passed away before he could see hos he legend was surpassed. However, in the end that didn't really matter either; it was the fate of all those beings unable to reach where Nascal did.

More than two hundred years ago he was forced to flee from the continent, chased by the Inquisition when his true nature was discovered. From that moment he traveled from one place to another until he fixed his residence in the lost civilizations of the depths of the jungle, since he found interesting their old creative techniques. There he rebuilt his mansion and continued with his work; beings that transgress the line between a living and an artificial one.

To ensure that no one could oppose him, in that period Nascal obtained the power to overcome any thread. He surrounded himself with a legion of extremely efficient combat marionettes and modified his body over and over, until all that was left of its original form was part of his brain and his spinal cord. Its size grew disproportionately, gaining a height of over ninety feet, and he armed himself with all sorts of artificts of enormous power.