Dival watched each piece of grass come to a halt, in turn, unsure and too stunned to move, and as the last overgrown grass came to rest was when a cold metal hand came to rest softly on the fabric of his shoulder. Dival looked down slowly over his left shoulder at the metal shaped like fingers and what seemed like bone between slowly spinning gears where knuckles should have been. He followed the same style arm up to the spikes that covered the helmet that he now realized was just the head of the statue he noticed earlier and the ‘helmet’ only covered just below where the nose should have been, the cheeks, jawline, and lips were flesh. That same statue that now stared at him through two hollowed out holes where eyes should have been and a strangely humanoid jaw with the lips of a woman. Dival couldn’t help but silently stare, already emotionally drained as he noticed what was in its other hand. ‘Is that a trumpet?’ He studied it carefully, the hand on his shoulder resembling that of any normal bipedal, but her, or it’s, other hand had nearly ten fingers that held what looked to be a trumpet with just as many keys. His eyes came back up to its face which had soft alabaster skin from the neck to just below the cast iron eye sockets that held an uncanny emptiness.
A feminine voice spoke, “Welcome home, Dival.”
He blinked as it released his shoulder and reached behind him to the large wooden doors. She, or it, released the hidden latch with a soft click and the doors swung slowly inward to a profoundly dark entry hall that he could not see further into than a few feet. ‘Home?’ Dival thought for a moment before being drawn forward with a desperate curiosity. He slowly entered into the darkness through the doorway leaving behind what he could only describe as an automaton of sorts. Perhaps from the city of Amorine? They were always building new contraptions and machines that some feared as being magic or evil. That was nonsense obviously, Amorine was just a haven for inventors, artists, and creators alike. ‘Well, perhaps there were a few things indistinguishable from magic,’ he thought. Remembering a contraption that seemed as such, Dival pulled out a small orb from one of his many cloak pockets. He twisted each hemisphere opposite of one another, and with a little ‘click’ a soft glow permeated the air around Dival as he stepped further into the cavernous entrance hall.