The House of Spiders: The Ring Apprentice Faust's Story

A Faust posed a contemplative query.

"What, among all conceivable artwork, would constitute the true apogee of art - the one absolute piece that an artist could possibly create?"

And that singular inquiry is where the beginning of this Faust's record is situated.

How do you find the intercostal musculature, Fascia?

Fragments of flesh, caged between plates of dull iron, quivered intermittently.

The heart melodized an arrhythmic cadence, while the vasculature, arborizing in no particular order, convulsed and twitched liberally.

The thing gave no response. Or perhaps "could not respond" would be a more precise statement,

as no apparatus capable of producing vocal timbres was attached to the construct.

And yet, to Faust, the thing's corporal oscillations seemed to come across as some sort of parsable linguistic discourse. She was, after all, nodding her head to it, all the while focusing her gaze on the mass of twitching muscles as one would on a person with whom one is engaged in a particularly lovely conversation.

I see. But I no longer have much flesh left to give. It's a pity to have to make this request to you, but please temper your cravings for a short while.

The cerebrum...? Oh, I'm afraid that necessitates further study. For now, only segments that are nonessential to Faust's continued existence have been excised.

... There is no certainty to be had yet.

Faust delivered her words in a remarkably amicable tone as her hands worked without rest.

With a razor-sharp scalpel in one hand and forceps in the other, she methodically pushed the blade through the incision on her abdomen. An uninformed observer would think she were carrying out a surgical procedure on herself.

If one were permitted a closer look, however, one would soon learn that the prodding and slicing of the flesh more closely resembled the measured enthusiasm of a gourmet slicing her choice cut of meat in a haute-cuisine affair - the colorless passion on her face made such an interpretation even more convincing.

In return, the cut will be made along the vertical grain this time. You will find it more efficient to absorb and assimilate.

With this, Fascia, all constituent elements of Faust's corpus - excluding the cephalic region - have been transferred to you.

Faust's observation does justice to the present state of being. The only remaining human tissue within that "body" is now a brain with partially degraded function.

At this point, the pronoun "I" might as well represent the greatsword designated as "Fascia" in all but name.

... Perhaps this very same impression is one that Faust wished to inspire through Fascia, who will one day be exhibited on a pedestal for her audience to appraise.

... Hmm. As expected, Faust's ability to construct an impromptu dialogue has measurably declined following the excision of brain slices last time.

Sorry, Fascia. Your absorption of the corpus ought to be accompanied by a more stimulating conversation...

The wait won't be long, though. A critique symposium is scheduled for today with the other Apprentices.

It did require some degree of effort to convince those laypeople who have no interest in this study of art, but...

Ah...! Y-Young Faust.

How puzzling. Faust does not recall extending an invitation to Don Quixote.

V-verily, that is... I did ch-chance to overhear thee c-conversing with another Apprentice... a-and... uh, I, too, have a g-goodly store of s-stories for thee, so... Hehe...

F-few there be that lend an ear to m-my words... and I y-yet have many a tale to recount about Fixers. F-forsooth, the thirst for the lore of Fixers is not s-sated easily, no matter h-how much one learneth...

... Are the others on their way?

Hm...? Oh, I-I sh-shan't say I'm certain...

Th-they grant me not m-much time to converse with them, so... Y-Young Ishmael and Sinclair d-did seem to contend in a d-duel of words, and, uh...

I... see.

This Faust directed a brief, apologetic look toward Fascia, which was pulsating with a stronger beat next to her.

The Apprentice designated as Don Quixote had, for several months, been persistently visiting Faust and Fascia uninvited, telling streams of wild tales that ended neither here nor there.

At first, Faust found an intellectual satisfaction in discovering that a singular thematic axis of "Fixers" could generate thousands of narrative variations, and that there was plenty of new information to be garnered from Don Quixote's tales...

... However, it wasn't long before Faust learned that the pieces of information overlapped in the multiple variations of those stories. Faust decided redundancy was best left unentertained.

Approximately an hour remains until the Maestro's lecture. You may tell your story... but please see that it ends before.

H-huzzah! I-I shall not d-disappoint...!

Faust had no choice but to listen in silence.

That is, until the time finally arrived...

... for the practical session of her art.

There, Fascia. Your coat is taken off. Absorb as much as you can.

Please do as the entity designated as Faust did - in her hunger, she absorbed every piece of knowledge she came across. So must you with your pieces of corpus.

They moved through rows and rows of specimens - slicing, tearing, and absorbing.

Fascia's heart pulsed louder and hotter, while Faust, in tandem with Fascia's hunger, synchronized her movements. It was a vivacious waltz.

Oh, you have grown so much in such a short span of time. A restaging is in order...!

Yes, Fascia. Your performance is most excellent. Faust would have elected the same course of action.

Faust never stopped talking to Fascia, even as an entire specimen was being sectioned and grafted onto Fascia.

The tremors of Fascia's musculature almost seem to function as a coherent language now.

It's almost... human.

... Alas, such a designation is still too premature.

You see, Fascia...

... Many in the City believe that the brain alone suffices for the "human" classification, regardless of any other modifications applied to the corpus.

You now possess the entirety of Faust's blood and flesh. But in the absence of a brain, you are not perceived as human, even though 90% of the physical composition that constitutes Faust - a "human" - resides in you.

Faust has only the brain... and Fascia lacks only the brain.

Faust is confident that this artwork will, from its thematic inquiry alone, yield far more than a passing grade from the Maestro. For both evaluation of the assignment and appreciation of the piece, of course.

But... Faust can't help but remain curious:

If all of the components constituting Faust's corpus are present in a given object, only arranged in a structure and form different from Faust's original corpus... Would such a thing still be called "Faust"?

Your name may be "Fascia" at the moment, Fascia... but in the near future, once the day of your exhibition finally comes, your pedestal will bear another name: "Artwork: Faust?" with the question mark.

A Faust at some point in the future will apply her final touch to the masterpiece.

But if even the brain, the final remnant of Faust's corpus, is transferred to Fascia... Will it remain Fascia, or will it become Faust?

Would it become human in the eyes of the City?

Or...

Finding herself unable to arrive at a clear answer, the smile on Faust's face grows even more pronounced,

along with the conviction that this here, this mystery, this query - is precisely the unique brand of aesthetics that she has been pursuing all along.

An artwork through which the self becomes the self by means of total self-consumption.

The one true magnum opus that an artist could create only once in her life, alone in its uniqueness.

Even today, in this very moment, Faust stands in anticipation of the day that is yet to come, quietly mouthing the word that her future self, if not some observer before the pedestal, would whisper in wonder:

"... Faust...?"

With a question mark.