Bitterness and Library

As Wanderer travelled deeper and deeper, the steam and heat began to fade, the Golem having passed the exposed lava veins that kept the ruin in its superheated state.

Despite this, the constant rain caused by the condensation of the steam did not fade, instead following the Vessel downwards as the raindrops trailed along the roof.

Under Wanderer’s hooves, a small river was flowing down the tunnel, no doubt going to pool at the lowest point in the ruin.

To the Vessel’s uncertainty their Spirit had gone silent, apparently realising their reassurances futile.

The Golem was somewhat relieved that their Spirit had left, no longer able to betray them any further, but despite their broader feelings they couldn't truly feel happy about it.

For the first time in their life, they felt lonely, lacking their constant companion to talk to them and guide them.

It was such an unfamiliar feeling that, with all the other emotions following through their soul, the Vessel had trouble recognising it for what it was.

Instead of trying to contact the Spirit, however, Wanderer rebounded and instead focused their attention on Emio.

Tentatively, as if the verdestry was likely to backstab them as well, they reached out and took Emio in their arms, finding them eager to reciprocate.

As they often did, the little monster had realised Wanderer’s troubles and even if they didn't know the cause they were eager to comfort.

“What a wonderful friend they are” the Vessel realised.

The Golem spent a little while standing in the dripping rain, hugging Emio tight, before they pulled themself together, finding the hurt and raw emotion caused by the confession a little more manageable than before.

It wasn't much further walking in the dark before they reached the end of the long shaft, coming out to a massive room filled to waist height with water.

To the Golem’s surprise the room wasn't pitch black like they had expected, instead, soft lines of golden light appeared to grow from the ceiling, appearing like veins, if those veins were perfect and artificial.

The light was welcome yet lacking and Wanderer found themself still unable to truly make out what exactly the purpose of the room was, or why it needed to be so far underground.

The streams of light all extended from a single point to the Golem’s right, past many evenly spaced walls that, at least to Wanderer’s knowledge, were completely unnecessary.

Hoping that there was some way to increase the light at its source, the Vessel waded through the water without even bothering to inspect the surroundings, Emio’s light alone was inadequate to get anything more than basic bearings.

Wanderer passed by the strange walls until they were face to face with the source of the light, only fifty or so steps away.

The light faded as it got closer to the source and so they couldn't entirely tell what exactly was at the end of the room.

Despite this, an odd sense of familiarity was pitting in their soul as more and more of the Golem's mind insisted that the thing before them was something they had seen before and knew intimately.

Closer and closer they waded to the source until, in a flash of recognition, they realised that the thing in front of them was not a thing, but a person.

Scarcely a moment after, two massive hands began to move, driving a clump of dread to form in Wanderer’s soul.

Emio instantly moved to attack while the Vessel moved to get away, their Spirit unreactive of the situation the whole while.

With a sound like the crack of lightning, two hands crashed together in the dark sending out one massive clap.

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Without delay, the lights flared and revealed the room in perfect brightness.

The new light revealed that the room they were in was finished and paved, similar to the beginning of the tunnel, with intricately carved walls and beautiful orange stone.

To the front of the room was a massive archway which the lights weaved around, yet it was untunneled, leading to little more than a blank wall of stone.

To the left and right were other, smaller doorways which opened up to seemingly identical rooms with a slight curve between each one, such that, if the rest of the ruin's architecture followed the same pattern, it likely formed a massive circle.

The most wondrous element of the room, however, was the strange parallel walls which Wanderer could not, at first, interpret the purpose of.

Under the newfound light, it was revealed that the strange walls were not truly walls, but shelves.

The shelves possessed hundreds of books and scrolls in orderly lines, filling each row to the brim with incomprehensible amounts of knowledge.

Instinctively, Wanderer’s soul lept in their chest at the sight of such vast amounts of information, such potential for discovery.

But the implications of such a breakthrough were flushed away by the sheer presence of the person at the end of the room.

Three golden eyes rested upon a featureless face, shaded from a long forgotten sun by a long brimmed sedge hat.

The distinctive features of a Golem.

Yet they were unlike any other Golem the Vessel had seen, themself included.

While they shared the same clay flesh and golden-bronze highlights, instead of four legs or even two, the Golem had none at all, fused with the wall such that their upper body extended at a 45 degree angle.

From their back extended the glowing tendrils which served to light the place, power flowing out of their soul and into the room.

Their face was expressionless, as all Golem’s were, yet Wanderer knew deep down that the creature was examining them.

For a long, awkward moment, they both stood and stared at each other, the librarian quiet and contemplative, Wanderer nervous and confused.

Out of nowhere, they heard a voice which resonated with their very soul, indeed its origin seemed to rest inside of it, yet there was no doubt that it was not Wanderer’s own.

“Who are you?” was the message, conveyed in a tone not deep or high, fast or slow but impossibly unique beyond the point of any explanation.

The Golem found themself unable to respond, not because of hesitation or want, but because, quite simply, they didn't know how to.

They had no mouth like a human and there was no connection between them and their comrade, how then were they supposed to speak with them.

“Who are you.” the voice called again, this time with a touch of impatience.

Hurriedly, the Vessel spoke in the only way they knew how, by signing with broad gestures as best they could.

“Is this a joke, I have no care for such nonsense, speak to me.”

A feeling like panic rose within them, Wanderer suddenly insecure about their own inability, a feeling they were unable to shake.

Again they signed their inability, a hundred apologies following shortly.

The other Golem stayed silent for a long time, the lack of response causing Wanderer’s nervousness to grow with every passing moment.

“Look inside yourself.” the Vessel’s elder commanded, causing Wanderer to follow with eager abandon.

“Now, inside you are channels which ferry your magic, focus upon them.”

“You can see that they are filled with magic, yet this magic is trying to escape from you at all times, trying to return to the place it feels most comfortable.”

“Eventually it will escape, nothing can retain magic forever for it is inherently against the power of entropy.”

“But to communicate to me, you must let a small amount of magic leak from your soul, imbued with your thoughts, my own absorption will take in this magic and relay it to my soul, as I am doing to you now.”

It was a bit much to take in, but nonetheless Wanderer tried their hardest, focusing with their minds eye on the locus that was their soul, and trying their hardest to ignore the Spirit that rested beside it.

For a decent while they struggled with letting even the smallest amount of magic through without fully breaking the walls of their soul, all their life they had been trying to keep the power in and only recently had they learned that they had any impact over their magic at all.

Finally, after working at carving a fine line in their soul for almost half an hour while the other Golem watched in silence, Wanderer perforated the wall of their soul with the smallest incision they could make, formed by wearing away at a tiny, singular section.

Like a flood, magic spilled out causing the Vessel to close the breach as quickly as they could, redirecting power away from it and letting their soul heal itself.

“Now add a message.”, the librarian said, scaring Wanderer who had nearly forgotten about them.

They complied, focusing on one of their thoughts and the place it needed to be, hoping that it was enough.

It was.

And so the Golem said their first words in their native language, crude and unrefined as they were.

“I am Wanderer!”