Freeform: Permanence.

      Hidden beneath faded tattered robes, the lone observer stood upon the rocky shore, lost amidst the mist and crashing waves. From the darkness under its hood, two unblinking golden eyes peered out over the horizon, as though searching for something in the shapeless gray waters. Yet, with a hollow, tinny sigh, the seeker's watchful head lowered, as thin, metallic fingers wrapped tightly around a weathered staff.
      "Able," came a voice from behind, as the ever-vigilant eyes turned to face the newcomer. Clad in a traveler's cloak, she silently approached her companion, her footfalls barely seeming to touch the sodden ground. "Have your senses taken leave of you again, my old friend?" she continued, her voice barely above a whisper.
      "No, my young Tesslyn," came the hollow voice in reply, "not yet, at least." Ancient joints clicked and whirred back to life, as the watcher extended an arm to the young traveler, beckoning her to come near. "Come. There is something you must see through the mists."
      A soft smile upon her face, Tesslyn nodded, stumbling over the jagged stones to her mentor. Looking up at the featureless face beneath the cloak, the young traveler patiently waited for Able to speak, as its unblinking eyes flickered with thought. As the waves crashed into the rocks below, she casually brushed little droplets from her short locks, as another splash rang into the air. Without a word, she kept watching over the emaciated shade beside her, the young traveler's shimmering blue eyes made even brighter by all the endless gray.
      "There!" came Able's sudden declaration, as Tesslyn's eyes followed the now-outstretched finger to some hidden point in the sea. As the mists of morning began to part, the shadow of some great and terrible giant emerged, its body rising from the water like some armored warrior of a forgotten time. With a gasp, the young traveler reached inside a small pouch at her side, quickly retrieving a small spyglass without averting her excited gaze.
      "That's a machine, isn't it?" she asked her mentor, peering through the lens at the new discovery. "Like you and the others, only much bigger!"
      "From a time best forgotten," came Abel's sullen reply, as something much like a sigh rattled his metallic body beneath his robe. "There is a reason, my young Tesslyn, why my kind are still here, while the Giants are not. If you are to be one of the Masters of the Gear, you must learn why that is, and hold it ever dear to your heart."
      "And why is that, Able?" the young traveler asked, lowering her spyglass and turning to her mentor.
      "Why, my child, we are here to create," came a synthetic chuckle, as spindly fingers reached for Tesslyn's arm, pulling back the sleeve to reveal ornate patterns atop her mechanical prosthesis. Smiling at the gesture, she watched as Able again turned to the sea, holding her tiny hand in both its own.
      "And they," Able began, again rattling as though heaving some great sigh from within, "were meant to destroy."
      Touching her own mechanical arm, the young traveler's smile gave way to awe, as she retrieved her spyglass once more to gaze upon the giant.
      There, atop an outstretched claw of what once was a hand, a great nest of birds prepared themselves for the day ahead...