Roughly a week later, Mandragora time
Simokh was of two minds about taking his apprentice with him to the meeting of Crypteks.
Firstly, Yantek was far too cheerful and lighthearted for such a group of powerful Crypteks. He was used to the small group of moderately competent (and honestly, slightly incompetent) Crypteks who attended to Rahkaak. Simokh was incapable of the emotion now, but he knew in the past he'd felt a bit of fondness for them all, like they were a rather dysfunctional family. They all got on tolerably well, despite the occasional quiet dispute or outright argument.
The Sautekh convocation of Crypteks would be nothing like that. There would be absolute luminaries like Orikan, and powerful lights, Technomancers that would put Simokh himself to shame. Many of them would absolutely loathe each other, and the backbiting and positioning for status would be intense. There would be no outright murders, that was both gauche and would invite a real investigation, but anything short of that calamity would be on the table. So was it wise to expose the irrepressible Yantek to such an environment?
But with everything, there were two sides, and Simokh considered the other edge of the coin. This could be a very valuable learning experience for Yantek. He would be able to interact, at least a bit, with Crypteks far above his station. And a mere apprentice would be unworthy of notice as an opponent, so Yantek's nature should not really endanger him. Perhaps more importantly, Simokh knew that Yantek would be the first apprentice Cryptek since long before the Great Sleep. Imotekh willing, there would be more from the human population of Hope, as they melted the Necron technology into the building of a new Terra. So should he not introduce Yantek now, as the very first?
Finally, Simokh decided on the latter. And he admitted, to himself, that part of his decision was based on morbid curiosity. What would the likes of Orikan make of what appeared to be an Immortal among them? Well, he had at least prepared a bit for that eventuality.
"Yantek, I have decided you will come with me to the convocation. Please wear your hood," Simokh requested and Yantek earnestly nodded before donning the hood. It was modeled a bit on Trazyn the Infinite's hood, with a cloak of sparse plaques behind it that would be added to as Yantek added wisdom. The addition helped to smooth the impression Yantek made, giving him a more scholarly aspect.
Satisfied with the state of his apprentice, Simokh commandeered a barge to take them to the meeting. Most of the other Crypteks also gaggled along, although they left poor Tilpaz and Mifuku. Mifuku was their Ethermancer and in an even sorrier state than Tilpaz, the thoughts rattling around his brain like motes of dust in an empty tomb. He was harmless and they took care of him out of obligation, but he had no place at the convocation.
Pulling away his thoughts from that – it made Simokh glad that his own degradation was so relatively light – Simokh instead observed his apprentice. Yantek was taking in everything with the bright eyed curiosity of the very young, and it made Simokh keenly aware of his own age.
"Is there a pattern?" Yantek murmured and Simokh turned his head, wondering what the apprentice had spotted. He saw nothing in particular. "With the scarabs?"
"If there is, you can investigate it," Simokh replied, confident that Yantek would just find some peculiarity of the coreworld AI. They could sometimes become eccentric, even with the limits placed on them. A silly thing to be concerned about, of course, but a useful exercise.
The convocation of Crypteks was in a vast chamber shrouded with secrets. Simokh felt no discomfort or shame, but ruefully acknowledged to himself that his small group was extremely sad compared to the majority of the crypteks present. Their staves cracked with hidden powers, little orbs trailing them, and the beautiful finery they adorned themselves with, all put the delegation to shame. Nor was he the only one to notice.
We're the poor cousins I see. Yantek sent via private interstitial message. The little private communications hubs were so useful, Simokh had also set one up for the Crypteks. That came in handy now, as several of the other crypteks responded with humor glyphs that no one else could see.
Control yourself, apprentice. Let us spread out. While it was comforting to remain together, they were here to engage others of their own specialities and rekindling old contacts. Simokh led Yantek towards a group of middling Technomancers that he recognized. As he did, he caught several Chronomancers giving them unpleasant glances. He knew precisely why… now that they had left Hope, the problems afflicting their Chronomancer had become far more clear. It was largely due to the humans being so out of time, a vast dislocation that influenced the timestream. The new necrons were even worse, combining old and new in an even more unpleasant way. And to add insult to injury, from the Chronomancer perspective, even the ordinary Necrons like himself from the Uhnashret Dynasty had been afflicted with some temporal distortion. Simokh felt a bit badly for Raszek. Despite all the effort he'd put into the mastery of time, he'd reluctantly started switching his focus to technomancy, in an effort to remain useful.
For here and now, though, it meant that they were rather unwelcome among the Chronomancers and Simokh did his best to avoid them. He found welcome in a group of middling Technomancers, several of whom he recognized, and they were quickly embroiled in an interesting discussion. Simokh was more than willing to share the few minor improvements to Necron technology that the human technical base had given them.
Staying away from the Chronomancers was the plan, anyway. Alas, one of them came to him.
Orikan had always reminded Simokh unpleasantly of a snake. He had a vague feeling that he had always disliked serpents, something dating back to the Time of Flesh. Not only that, Orikan's abrasive personality and know-it-all attitude had always rubbed Simokh the wrong way. He would never dare say anything – he was far beneath the greater Cryptek – but Simokh had always cordially disliked the other necron. Despite his emotions being gone, he saw no reason to change that opinion.
"What is this?" Orikan asked, pacing slowly around Yantek. The apprentice turned to meet his movements, reacting to the obviously threatening posture. "Why are you bringing this thing to our meeting?"
"This is my apprentice, Yantek. He is here to learn, as we all can learn from each other," Simokh said evenly, and that was the original ethos of such meetings, although they had largely devolved into politics. The exceptions to that rule tended to be the lesser crypteks, who had relatively few secrets and could benefit more from elevating each other up. Sure enough, Orikan treated that suggestion with contempt.
"What a simpleminded idea." Simokh was completely serene, but noticed a slight tilt to Yantek's head and the way his fingers twitched. That was a prelude to trouble and he sent his apprentice a cautionary glyph. "And an apprentice? Is your Dynasty truly sad enough that you would attempt to teach our secrets to a jumped up Immortal?" Orikan was likely trying to get him to contradict that and explain Yantek's true origins, but Simokh had no intention of complying. Then Orikan flashed a series of glyphs that seemed praising, but if you looked even a bit deeper were a finely honed insult targeting the difference in class between the warrior class and the bearers of knowledge.
Then Yantek responded in kind and Simokh sat back to watch as a beautiful poem of praise, that was actually also an insult, came back from his apprentice. It seemed to praise the dedication of the crypteks, but actually contained a hidden message decrying their arrogance. That set Orikan back on his heels for a moment, before he responded with another insult-poem.
The little battle of wits very quickly attracted attention and while he knew it was unwise, Simokh enjoyed every moment of it. If Orikan had challenged Yantek on ANYTHING else, he would have quickly won, but the art of linguistics and glyphs had quickly become Yantek's true passion, possibly beyond even technology. And before he had accepted biotransference, Yantek had engaged in poetry as a hobby. That hobby was now dead to him, but the skill of it transferred into glyphs. The exchanges became so deep and intricate, and Orikan was struggling so much, that Simokh wondered if he was perhaps even turning back time to give himself a bit more breathing room. If so, that was the finest humiliation he could ever wish on the Chronomancer, even if no one would ever be able to prove it.
"You are a larval Trazyn!" Orikan finally exclaimed, annoyed beyond endurance and Simokh decided this was going a bit too far. They didn't need to make a mortal enemy of someone so dangerous.
"Forgive me, Orikan the Diviner, most illustrious among us. You have challenged my apprentice at his greatest skill. Just as someone challenging you to a contest of divination, it could only go poorly. Perhaps you should challenge him to demonstrate his knowledge of Chronomancy? He has been learning your craft but in that, he is a true apprentice." That would allow Orikan to demonstrate his pre-eminence and maybe Yantek could learn something.
"Oh? I am impressed your petty little Dynasty could teach him anything at all of that." This is why I dislike you. "Can you do this?" And Orikan's hands adroitly traced a quick rune, that left a pattern of energy in the air. Yantek nodded and mimicked the gesture, although with none of the grace and speed. It was still perfect, though, and his own little pattern of energy hung in the air. "And this?" The next pattern was more complicated. Simokh knew nothing of Chronomancery, but knew Yantek would quickly reach his limits. Of course, for Yantek, that never held him back.
"I don't know that one. Can you do it again?" Yantek asked, staring at Orikan's hands intently and Simokh felt a bit of relief. This could become an impromptu teaching session, until Orikan tired of it and the watchers were growing bored, going back to their own conversations. Orikan demonstrated it again, then deigned to give advice.
"You're not forming the ka character properly. It's an easy mistake to make, on more complex workings." Yantek nodded and this time, managed to execute the gesture correctly. "You need to work on your speed. You are unconscionably slow. I assume you have not been learning this long." Another bit of prying, ah.
"He is primarily in training to be a Technomancer so no, he has not been learning this long," Simokh said and Orikan turned his head to look at him and for the first time, Simokh realized that the other Cryptek was not just arrogant and irritated, he was curious. Well, having an apprentice with the potential of Yantek simply appearing out of thin air would arouse curiosity.
"Where did you find such a luminary among the ranks of the Immortals?" Orikan asked, his tone highly skeptical. But since they had moved beyond mere prying, to open questioning, Simokh knew he needed to give a better answer.
"Unfortunately, I cannot tell you, by order of the Phaeron. However, you will know everything soon, when Phaeron Rahkaak is able to present herself to the Stormlord." That was only a few weeks, now. Orikan hesitated before making a small, buzzing sigh.
"How vexing, but divining the solution would take longer than simply waiting." Simokh was a little surprised that Orikan would admit difficulty with his divinations. But then, the problems were likely so widespread that there was no shame in admitting to fallibility, even for Orikan the Diviner. "Continue to practice those basic patterns and increase your speed. When you are going three times as fast, I may deign to teach you more." Yantek nodded with pleasing humility and Orikan left them, his dignity still intact. Simokh considered it a good outcome.
He's very arrogant, but I can tell he's really good, Yantek murmured via interstitial message and Simokh nodded. Arrogant but skilled described Orikan perfectly. Can I spend some time focusing on my time glyphs? Hm, well… ah, it was too good an opportunity to pass up, even if Simokh did think he might be losing his apprentice to the Chronomancers.
Yes, spend some time devoting yourself to that. What is needed is endless repetition. That was what made the specialization of Chronomancer so difficult, the need for speed coupled with absolute perfection. Yantek was good at speed, but perfection was not his strong suit, as he came from a background of "making do". Still, Simokh was confident he would get there.
After all, they had nothing more in abundance than time.