Tesla Goyle

Elliot was welding the final plate in place when Kensington came trotting through the door, whistling and twirling his cane. Kensington paused and turned his head at the contraption Elliot was working on. This section of the workshop had been closed off to all but himself, his personal assistant, and Kensington, his investor. Kensington looked over his latest investment, brown shorts held aloft by slightly darker suspenders over a dingy cream tunic that poor Elliot swam in. All of Elliot's money went into his work.

“It's nearly complete?” Kensington asked. Elliot nodded. Kensington's eyes moved over the uneven metal surfaces.

“Will it work?” he continued, his finger grazing his finely groomed goatee.

“It already does,” Elliot replied, glancing at his plum, long-coated companion. Kensington set his black top hat on the nearby rack, his long, dark hair cascading over his shoulders.

“So all the gears work? Everything moves?” Kensington pressed excitedly, clapping Elliot on the shoulder. Elliot nodded, his rat's nest of straw blonde hair bobbing and his blue eyes gleaming with excitement.

“Did you bring the Sabine Quartz?” Elliot asked. Kensington raised an eyebrow.

“Have I ever failed to come through for you my dear Elliot?” Kensington crooned, hand on his heart. Elliot shook his head.

“No, sir. That you have not,” Elliot replied, smiling.

Kensington set the small ornate mahogany box down upon the table. Brass work swirled around the top and edges of the box, arching toward the center vertices that encapsulated the key hole. Kensington pulled the key from a silver chain around his neck and placed it into the box.

A soft purple glow emanated from the box. Faint whispers followed. Secrets of long lost lovers, best friends, doting parents and laughing children. The hidden songs of hearth and family dinners. Some called the Sabine Quartz the fabled Hearth Stone, the soul of not just a person, but the essence of family. Elliot's eyes glistened as he held the box aloft, stared into the heart of the soft glow, and listened as the song of a hundred lovely whispers of well wishes washed over his ears.

“It's something else isn't it?” Kensington asked. Elliot simply nodded. The lump in his throat wouldn't let him speak. He couldn't believe his friend had found one.

“How did you even know to ask for one of these?” Kensington followed. Elliot swallowed and took a deep breath.

“I came across it in my research. I asked another old tinkerer, who guessed a bit about what I was up to, and suggested it. I knew it was a long shot, but it was worth a try,” Elliot said, mystified.

“Worth more than just that. I have houses that don't cost as much as that stone there,” Kensington noted. Elliot nodded.

“And I am eternally grateful,” Elliot said.

He walked around his work bench and pulled out another box. Not so fancy as Kensington's, but still one upon which Elliot placed great value and importance.

From it he pulled the Clockwork Heart he had built. Kensington whistled.

“I still can't believe you made one,” Kensington noted. Elliot smiled thankfully. He wasn't sure he'd succeed either. In fact, until the Sabine Quartz was in place, he wouldn't be sure.

The blue print was from the Heart of Gold, designed by the fabled Shimon Exeter, founder of modern engineering. No one had succeeded in replicating a functional one. Some had begun to say the Heart of Gold was merely allegory for the epitome of engineering; something that all must strive toward but never fully achieve.

“And Elliot, you beautiful fool, you've gone and done the impossible again...” Kensington mused to himself.

Elliot's Clockwork Heart however was a different sort of contraption altogether. Leather straps wrapped around the brass and gold frame work. Brass cogs connected with copper wire. It was beautiful in it's complex absurdity. Kensington was ever enthralled by Elliot's childlike wonder at science, and his unwavering obsession to complete any objective he set his mind to.

He opened a small door on the underside of the Clockwork Heart and placed the Sabine Quartz inside. He closed it carefully and waited. Nothing happened. Kensington frowned.

“It was a long shot my friend...” he said dolefully. Elliot jumped from his work stool.

He reached to an uppermost shelf and pulled down something covered in an old brown cloth. Pulling back the cloth, a bright yellow light filled the room. Sparks shot around within a glass case with a black rubber bottom.

“What in Heavens is that?” Kensington asked, aghast.

“It's a Tesla,” Elliot said, his eyes beaming.

“The electrical spirits? That supposedly haunt the old wastes of the Ancient Country?” Kensington asked.

“First, they do no such thing. Yes, they dwell there, but I hardly call it 'haunting.' I took a sojourn there. Many engineers secretly do. To learn what we can from the archaic, rusted machines. To gaze upon what was once the greatness of that ancient civilization. To gain clarity. To gain insight. To gain inspiration...” Elliot said, setting the glass case next to the Clockwork heart.

“So, you caught one,” Kensington observed.

“No. It asked to come with me. Look,” Elliot said, calling Kensington over. He looked to see at the center of the arching bolts of electricity, a tiny golden woman.

“It looks like a faerie,” he noted.

“I believe they're kin. I asked her to come home with me. She's watched me build the gargoyle piece by piece. Sometimes even offering insight. She's truly brilliant,” Elliot said. Kensington looked over the tiny girl doubtfully.

“And what is her part in all of this now?” he asked.

“Her people are dying. Something has changed in this world, and they are all dying off. I'd hoped to find another, but now I'm going to ask her to give the gargoyle life,” he said. He looked at the tiny woman in the glass.

“So how about it my friend? A new life in this new world?” he asked. The tiny woman looked over at the tarp covering Elliot's creation. She was silent a moment. Thoughtful. She would become something completely different from what she had ever been. What would this new life be like?

She and Elliot spoke for several minutes. Kensington could understand little of what the tiny woman said, but he guessed that Elliot had spent some time learning to decipher her speech. At last the tiny woman nodded. Elliot nodded in return.

“Thank you,” he said.

Elliot ran over and pulled off the tarp. Elegant in it's strangeness it stood, Elliot's mechanical gargoyle. His imperfect angel.

Now that Kensington looked upon the iron and silver frame work, he saw the feminine quality to it. It would be powerful, indeed terrifying in the right conditions. But there was so much more it would be capable of, he realized now.

Elliot opened the trap door in it's back and set the Clockwork Heart inside. He shut the door, and welded it closed forever. He pulled a lever and the leather wings extended.

“You've made them bigger,” Kensington noted. Elliot nodded.

“I want her to soar like the eagles,” he answered. Kensington chuckled and shook his head. Then he looked to the tiny woman.

“So she'll be trapped in this imperfect shell? Will she be in pain?” Kensington asked.

“It very well may. I don't know yet. At best, it will be uncomfortable. But it will be life,” Elliot said.

“But what sort of life?” Kensington asked.

“She's dying my liege. Her body cannot sustain itself much longer. This body will give her a new life. And look at it! Isn't it beautiful?” Elliot exclaimed.

Kengington nodded. It was the most magnificent piece of craftsmanship he had ever seen. And he had lived for a time in the Capital, where extravagant constructs were the fashion.

Kensington turned to the tiny golden woman, leaning on his cane.

“Are you sure little one?” he asked. The tiny woman looked back at him, mustering what courage she could and nodding back. Kensington smiled.

“It shall be a new adventure for us all,” he mused.

Elliot opened the mouth to the mechanical gargoyle. He walked over and lifted the glass from the container. Small sparks shot out in all directions.

“Go my friend, and live again,” Elliot said. The tiny woman shot into the air, doing several loop de loops before diving into the gargoyle.

“Go straight for the heart!” Elliot exclaimed.

There was a shudder within the gargoyle. Then a jerk. Then the head moved from side to side. The hand came up and the head turned to look at it. The clawed hand opened and closed. Keens lifted as it stepped from side to side. The eyes shifted to look at Elliot and Kensington. Kensington could swear he saw it smile.

Elliot ran to the window and pulled back the curtain.

“A test flight?” he asked. The gargoyle nodded.

“What will you call it?” Kensington asked.

“What do you mean?” Elliot replied.

“It's not truly just a construct any longer. And not completely a gargoyle with an electrical Fae spirit inside it,” Kensington continued. Elliot pursed his lips. He rubbed his chin and looked at his gargoyle. His friend, the Tesla.

“The Tesla-Goyle,” Elliot said at last. Kensington laughed aloud.

“Such silliness. But yes, it does fit. Tesla-Goyle it is,” Kensington said.

Sparks shot into random directions as archs of electricity slithered along the joints and contours of the mechanical body. She spread her wings and started running.

“Have you tested the flight capabilities yet?” Kensington asked in sudden alarm.

“No,” Elliot replied. Kensington's mouth dropped open.

“You just have to believe!” Elliot shouted as he pulled back the curtain. And the Tesla-Goyle leaped into the air, her wings outspread, and she rose into the sky.

Kensington and Elliot both watched her swirl through the air, in awe of her spiraling elegance.

“There's nothing else in this world like her. Truly one of a kind,” Kensington observed in awe.

“And look at her soar...” Elliot said wistfully.

“Look at her soar.”