Companions and Consequences

The Verdestry began to creep toward Wanderer, its vine tendrils constantly shooting out from its body, pulling itself slowly forward.

The Vessel attempted to escape backward, but they were blocked by the wall at their back and the tendrils blocked any path of escape forwards, they were trapped.

As the creature approached, the Golem noticed red strands of magic occasionally appearing within its runic eye, flashing randomly before being smothered by the opposing green energy.

Fear and desperation shot through Wanderer as the monster approached them, they grasped their club tight, remnants of the old Magi still clinging to its surface, as they readied to use it once again.

Without warning, the beast abandoned its previous pace, speeding up suddenly and flying toward the Vessel, Wanderer was caught off guard and by the time they had raised their club to attack it was too late.

Too quick to react, the creature wrapped its verdant limbs around the Vessel's waist and neck, lifted itself high into the air, then planted itself on Wanderer’s hat-like head.

For a moment the Golem was stunned, expecting a brutal attack but instead being used as a pedestal for the strange monster.

Yet before they could begin to act on the new development the verdestry let out a low sound, somewhere between the rustling of pine needles and the groaning of a tree in the wind, it sounded decidedly like the purr of a cat.

Slowly, Wanderer reached upwards and pried the now loose vines from their body, encountering little resistance now the odd ball of plants had found its favoured perch.

As they were doing so, water droplets began to drip from the ceiling, steadily increasing in frequency and number until they resembled the patter of rain.

Searching for the source of the water, Wanderer's gaze fell upon the hole in the ceiling from which they entered, and a bolt of dread shot though them.

The power that held the lake water back from the hidden sanctum was failing quickly, in a matter of moments, the once light rain had turned to a brutal torrent, flooding the small chamber at incredible speed.

Spurred by the rising waters, the verdestry rose from its resting place in a panic, its eye darting around the room seemingly searching for something.

Eventually, it rested its daze upon the gushing hole in the ceiling, before grabbing the Vessel by their torso and pulling them upwards with an unsuspected strength.

Strung along behind the verdestry, Wanderer burst through the surging liquid into the lake above, where they were unceremoniously dropped onto the lake floor as the small creature continued its frenzied search.

Almost immediately upon its surfacing into the watery depths, the plant monster began to tear away at the long strands of kelp that rose from the lake floor, plastering and fusing it into its own body until, in a flash of green energy, the leathery flora became part of its own body mass, doubling the Verdestry’s size and covering it in a strange, weaving pattern of vine and kelp.

For a moment, the creature seemed satisfied with itself, before an abrupt change came over them, flowing red magic forced its way across its herbal body, until it coalesced in the centre of its from and, with a flash of power and heat, incinerated the residual vines within its body.

For a moment the verdestry was still, seemingly exhausted by the unexpected interference, then it raised its body on four seaweed tendrils and hastily resumed its previous task of absorbing kelp.

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

Three more times did the verdestry attempt to grow in size, each time it was thwarted by unexpected interference, on the third time the reality of its situation set in and in evident sorrow, the creature resorted to reclaiming its previous perch atop Wanderer's head.

The Golem spent this time watching the monster's antics, attempting to distract themselves from the encroaching feelings of guilt and confusion which had been briefly delayed by their near death experience and hoping that their Spirit would wake so that they may guide them.

As the verdestry came once again to rest upon the Vessel’s head, a thought struck them.

‘Need name?”, they contemplated, if the small creature were to continue to follow them it would need a name, after all, they were Wanderer and Spirit was Spirit, but the Verdestry was not Verdestry, that was what they were, not who they are.

Emio, , the name blossomed within their muddled mind like divine intervention, and somehow the name felt both appropriate and as if they had committed a grave sin even uttering it in their mind.

The name came from the chaotic mess of ignored emotions and unresolved experiences Wanderer was harbouring, and from the name, these long-ignored feelings were forced into the forefront of Wanderer's mind.

The assault came thick and terrible, created not by some outside force or forced vision, but by Wanderer themself.

Feelings and thoughts they were both unable and unwilling to face came forward, betrayal from their Spirit's reckless guidance through the woods, fear from their encounter with the fog-beasts, disturbance at having their feeling of self-invulnerability shattered by the lake floor relic and fascination of the unfamiliar sights they had seen in the Magi’s vision.

But above all these emotions, one, in particular, made itself known above all the rest, Guilt.

Guilt washed over the Golem in sickening waves, Guilt for murdering the fog-beast, even in self-defence, Guilt for awakening a creature capable of slaughtering half of all human life, Guilt for killing the five old Magi who rested in the temple, even if unintentionally.

But above all, they felt Guilt for murdering Emio, for that was who the old Magi was, a simple fact their mind had hidden from them until now, and that made the guilt all the worse, not only had they killed a person, a thinking, caring being like themself, but they had killed Emio.

They had forever removed the knowledge and wisdom they had cultivated throughout their life, all that they had accomplished and known was eternally decimated, by them, it was a mistake they regretted with all their being, and one they would not allow themselves to repeat.

Their vision turned to the bone club that was clenched within their hand, remnants of gore now washed away by the lake's cleaning embrace, and began to strengthen their grip.

Vaguely, they could hear the voice of their Spirit, woken from their slumber, imbued with worry and strife, but their mind was elsewhere and they paid it no mind.

Four hands now grasped the weapon's hilt, each imbued with as much strength as the Golem could muster, slowly the compact bone began to deform under the immense pressure, splinters digging into the assaulting palms and inflicting immense pain, but the Vessel was undeterred.

Further still they crushed the crude tool, until their soft palms began to deform under the immense force.

But the bone gave way first.

In an explosion of splinters and shards the club was destroyed, split in two by a harsh, uneven crack down the middle of the makeshift weapon, the likely deafening event drowned out under the dark waters.

For a moment they stared downwards at the result of their outburst, before a thought passed through their mind that would define their entire existence, one more complicated than any they had previously reasoned, “Never again will I kill”.

Somewhere within their mind, they felt that with their declaration, the gnawing of guilt and fear should leave them.

But little relief came, confusion still prevailed throughout Wanderer's growing mind, barely quelled by their efforts to remove it, and the guilt of their actions still weathered away at their soul.

But through their tormented psyche, the ever-familiar voice of their Spirit became clear, imbued with a force and volume far louder than they had heard from the ethereal being before.

It spoke with comfort and authority, of understanding of their pain and its inescapable nature, it urged them not to try to force their feelings away, such emotions were stubborn, but to allow the cleansing passage of time to wash them away.

And so, following the suggestion of their oldest friend, the Golem and its Spirit wandered once more, the newly christened Emio following along behind them.