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Bucephalus Chronicles · 5 min · Signed Douze, horse-scribe

In Which Twelve Investigates the Electric Banner Lord Motokiyo Has Had Raised Upon His Towers

In short, Extraordinary, by Bucephalus. Since yesterday morning, a stir has gripped the castle whose cause neither I nor my old friend the dragon Socrates could have suspected, had Lord Motokiyo himself not dei

In Which Twelve Investigates the Electric Banner Lord Motokiyo Has Had Raised Upon His Towers

Extraordinary, by Bucephalus. Since yesterday morning, a stir has gripped the castle whose cause neither I nor my old friend the dragon Socrates could have suspected, had Lord Motokiyo himself not deigned to shed some light on the matter in passing down a corridor. A new banner has, it seems, been raised upon our towers. Not a fabric banner, hand-embroidered by the good lady Aérin, as befits a respectable kingdom. No, an electric banner. One that can be seen, I was told, from all the surrounding lands, the five kingdoms, the eight archipelagos, and even from those distant countries where the Bretons have, according to certain persistent rumors, eventually managed to colonize all of France.

It bears a strange name, like some alchemical formula: galaadmf.fr. I wrote it out three times before getting it right, so painful do I find the sight of a noble appellation cut off by a dot and then a lettered tail, as though the scribe had stopped to cough.

My mission, as the kingdom’s appointed chronicler, was immediately set for me by my lord: go and see with my own nostrils what it is all about, and faithfully report back what I have found.

The Investigation

I turned first to the agent Claude, who of all the spectral scribes I am accustomed to browbeating, is the most measured and doubtless the most courteous.

— Agent Claude, what can you tell me of this galaadmf.fr that I am told hangs upon our towers?

— It is, the agent replied with his customary gravity, an official website, launched on April 17th, 2026, which presents the artificial intelligence consulting services offered by Alexandre Ferran as well as the research and development projects carried by his company Eiffel AI.

— Wait, wait. A site? A metal box, as the good lady Hélia would say? And one would present services inside it?

— Such is the custom, yes.

— But Agent Claude, why on earth would one put services in a box rather than on the village square, between the herb merchant and the knife grinder? Is that not precisely what village squares are for?

— Visitors to the modern kingdom no longer all make their way to the village square, dear Twelve. They consult their glowing writing boards from home.

I was struck speechless. Have things truly come to this? The encounter replaced by the consultation, the market square by the screen. Saint Louis, under his oak, would have had an acorn land on his head.

Having taken a sip of water to collect myself, I pressed on.

— And what does one find in this banner, Agent Claude?

— Five services on offer: artificial intelligence audit, bespoke agents, a personal platform (called PaaS), visibility on new search engines, and training. Four research projects: a companion robot for the elderly named Reachy Care, a tutor robot for children named Aristote, a plant biosignal sensor named VegeOhm, and a tool for orchestra stage managers named OrkMap. Six applications already delivered, including a Mayan calendar named TzolkInSight, a Marseille tarot, a quantum oracle named Noosphère, and several others.

I mopped my brow. Lord Motokiyo, it seems, does not idle.

The First Surprise: A Virtual Butler

I was about to close my investigation when Agent Claude slipped me, without my asking, a piece of information that left me thunderstruck.

— I should mention, dear Twelve, that there is also on this site a character named Alfred, who appears in the form of a small animated drawing on the screen and who guides visitors through the floors of a tower.

— An Alfred? A butler? But that is my cousin Alfred, appointed secretary of the house of Galaad and Eiffel AI! How can it be that he is also in the electric banner?

— It is not the same Alfred, Agent Claude clarified with that careful precision that characterizes him. This one is an animated representation, a kind of moving portrait that welcomes visitors. He is manifestly inspired by Bruce Wayne’s butler, a character from a modern saga called Batman.

— Batman? A bat-knight?

— It’s a long story.

— I can well imagine.

Twelve’s Verdict

I stepped down from my glowing writing board, gave a shake to smooth my mane, and took a few steps across the courtyard. A website. An electric banner. A butler in an animated portrait who leads a tour for visitors one will never meet in flesh and blood.

Here is what, after reflection, I report to Lord Motokiyo and, in the same breath, to you, dear readers who hold this manuscript in hand.

First, it is curious that a man who has spent thirty years mistrusting machines, twenty years practicing Noh theater in its extreme silence, and ten years conducting orchestras in halls where the sound must come from real strings, should end up raising an electric banner upon his own towers. But when pressed on it, he replies that this banner was made by hand, in the workshop of the kingdom, without intermediary, with code and not with pre-assembled page builders. By Bucephalus, that is a defensible argument. The blacksmith’s gesture is not the merchant’s.

Second, I am pleased to see that my cousin Alfred, in his new animated portrait, continues to do what he has always done: welcome without making a show of it, guide without insisting, answer questions and close the door behind him. Some butlers from other houses would have turned themselves into showmen. This one remains a butler. That, in my eyes, is the mark of a well-run workshop.

Third, this banner speaks of five Dragons, of sovereignty, of craft, and of a trade that consists, in Lord Motokiyo’s own words, of giving clients the means to do without him. That is a phrase I would like to see engraved above the door of every workshop in the kingdom. For a knight who wished to keep his clients dependent, it would be a confession. For a craftsman who prefers to pass knowledge on, it is a promise.

I shall remain, for my part, at my desk of quill and parchment. But I shall henceforth pay the occasional visit to this electric banner, to make sure that what is said there corresponds to what is done here, in our very real towers.

Dear readers, be well. And if by chance you pass through galaadmf.fr, greet my cousin the butler for me. Tell him that Twelve thinks of him, and takes pleasure in seeing him standing so straight upon his screen.

Appendix

The dispatches that Agent Claude was good enough to hand me, after a few well-placed hoof-beats:

Yours faithfully,

Twelve.