Coral and Secrets

Water enclosed the Golem as they sank to the depths, the already limited light from the clouded surface rapidly dwindled till they were blinded in the unending abyss.

Eventually, their clay body sunk to the lake floor, still surrounded by the pitch-black void.

The Vessel and its Spirit silently groped in the darkness, bone club grasped tightly in hand before they began to move forward across the soft, saturated ground, occasionally tripping over an unseen obstacle.

After an indeterminable period, Wanderer's eyes picked up a soft, eerie light, far away in the distance and with little else to do but wander in the dark, the Golem made their way toward it.

As the Vessel approached, they began to make out the shape of a small fish, its scales glowed lightly in the gloom and its eyes were a milky white.

With this new discovery, their Spirit once again bounded with joy, its previous worries forgotten.

With a new sense of purpose, the Golem began to follow the small fish as it swam slowly away from the encroaching Vessel.

Eventually, the bioluminescent fry faded behind an unseen ledge, causing Wanderer to race after it with abandon.

Cresting the underlake hill, the Golem came across a magnificent sight, hundreds and hundreds of small, glowing creatures of every shape and colour swirled around colourful coral and reaching kelp.

There were little red crabs who shone in calm blue, glowing seahorses and eels that chased each other like cat and mouse, even the smallest of the aquatic creatures had a luminous shine.

Forested around these creatures were vast woods of rainbow coral, from the coral floated small bubbles of mist and fog, floating toward the surface to plague the land in a haze.

Within the coral, the reef's inhabitants swam in and out of the plant-like invertebrates, as if the spiralling towers were their own personal castles in which they could reside.

In admiration, the Golem explored the naturally lit forest, their focus chasing every little detail, soaking it up like a sea sponge and inspecting it in their mind.

They stayed in a state of admiration for some time, with only a hint of caution given by their recent near-death experience, their naivety overcoming their logic.

The passing creatures and coral blended into a wonderful blur of exploration until they were forced out of their stupor by a familiar voice drawing their attention to an outcropping on the rocky floor.

A rod of greenish metal stuck up from a strangely square stone, circles of plant matter floating around it, somehow undecayed even with the constant intervention of the lake.

Wanderer quickly approached the oddity, enchanted that such a strange object could be found in such an unlikely place.

Slowly, they reached out and touched one of the verdant rings, unaware of what was to come.

In an instant, strange energy charged up their arm, burning and blackening it in a branching pattern and causing them to fly back into the soil at great speed, the water doing nothing to slow their momentum.

Their Spirit screamed, seemingly shocked by the ethereal attack, and began emploring Wanderer to move away from the source of danger, but the Spirit's cries fell on deaf ears, as the Vessel was busy trying to fix their arm.

The energy had burned hundreds of branching lines throughout the Wanderer's arm and where their clay body had burned was now hardened, becoming brittle and rigid, causing a great deal of pain.

Desperately they attempted to mould over their burns, but the now brittle material cracked and splintered, burying itself in its neighbouring soft clay.

Now panicked, the Golem realised that the burned clay had to be removed, unlike their previous wounds, these injuries could not be smoothed over, as their clay body had been magically destroyed.

Slowly and with suffering, they picked every shard of their damaged body and threw it out into the deep until, finally, after a short eternity their top right arm was free of pain.

But it was not unscarred.

The once intricate patterns that covered the limb were ruined, and their golden-bronze branding was now reduced to random lines and shards of gold, almost unrecognisable compared to the intricate patterns it once possessed.

Finally, with their pain much reduced, though not removed, they could focus enough that their Spirit's cry to run from the strange artifact became readily apparent.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

Heeding the call, they scrambled back a little, till the warning reduced enough for them to think through what had just happened.

As Wanderer's mind turned toward the rapid series of events that had just ensued, a trio of thoughts rushed through their mind.

“Danger, Caution, Curious?”, Wanderer's forming mind thought.

The damage inflicted by the relic was unlike any that the Golem had encountered before, having inflicted a wound that could not be merely moulded over, instead forcing them to permanently remove part of their clay body to rid themselves of the injury.

Owing to this new injury, Wanderer felt the need to be more cautious, previously they believed themself invincible, resting in the knowledge that any wound could be fixed with ease and their ignorance in the matters of death.

But now that feeling was banished with the knowledge that, in the wrong circumstances, they could dwindle away to nothing as more and more of their soft body was compromised.

But even with the rise of these new worries, curiosity prevailed over them, so slowly, they fetched their dropped bone club, and, against the warning of their Spirit, they inched closer to the strange anomaly.

They noticed that the ever-present coral didn't grow around the area the rod occupied, a hint toward the hazardous nature of the artifact.

When they were only two steps away from the relic, they picked up a nearby piece of dead coral and threw it into the vine-like coils.

Immediately, a spark of green lighting leapt onto the debris, attacking it with extreme prejudice and forcing what little was left of it to fly into the distance.

The sheer force behind the assault caused the Golem to step back a little, and with this reminder of the danger the artifact posed, they grasped their bone weapon tighter and heeded their Spirit's call to continue past the lake-floor curiosity.

The Vessel slowly moved forward across the soft sea floor, until without warning, the floor collapsed beneath them, sending the Golem into a panic.

Their dense clay body drove them into the darkness below and as they fell, the water of the lake abandoned them, stopped by some magical filter of unknown means.

They noticed in a panicked haze that the walls around them were covered in vines and creepers, and through them pulsed a familiar green energy, identical to that which came from artefact on the surface.

This was, however, the only thing the Vessel's frantic mind had time to process before the lush ground finished its approach.

For a time, Wanderer lay on the vine-covered ground, their still-forming mind attempting to grasp the previous turn of events, but after a short amount of time, their Spirit gently guided them to stand upwards and fix their gravity-dented body.

After a quick fix to a damaged head and cratered leg, the Golem began to inspect their surroundings.

Around them stood great walls of stone, intricately embellished with carvings of a war between plant-like beasts and strange, bipedal creatures that reminded Wanderer ever so slightly of themself.

However, a great majority of these sculptures were covered entirely by the glowing green vines that prevailed within the temple.

The energy within these vines pulsed upwards to the top of the hidden cathedral, where the rod on the surface extended downwards, halfway down the building, occasionally shocks of power would spark from the vines on the walls to the rings floating around the rod, causing the plants covering the walls to twitch and adjust themselves almost imperceptibly.

Next to the rod was the impromptu hole from which the Golem entered, the everpresent energy holding back the invading water, keeping the temple dry and without interference.

At the Vessel's feet lay a perplexing scene, in contrast to the relatively stationary creepers on the walls, on the stone floor, vines of every length and thickness arrayed themselves in a circular pattern, runes and symbols shifted through rings of plant matter as the creepers adjusted themselves to create a new hieroglyph or rune in the formation, and from this ritual flowed the green energy that powered the wall-vines.

Away from the writhing ritual circle lay six bipedal creatures in stone chairs, like the ones displayed on the walls but old and withered, yet still the Golem could feel a great power emanating from within them.

Due to their age, one would assume these beings were long dead, if not for the slow, silent rising and falling of their chests.

But while silent, their breaths carried magic in them, every time they exhaled, a dim red energy was carried by their breaths, which then floated into the centre of the writhing formation.

Where the green energy had a direction, a purpose, this drive was lost once the breath touched it and its intent became errant and lazy, merely following the path laid by the vines but doing nothing when it reached its end.

Wanderer crept up to one of the mystical creatures, until they were only a few steps away, careful not to disrupt the neverending ritual, and compared themselves to the beings.

The Golem's torso was the only body part truly similar to the old creature, whereas the Vessel's body was made of malleable clay, the organism had pale skin and soft flesh.

They were all shorter than the Golem, but not by much and their legs seemed suited to walking, unlike Wanderer's own.

Atop their heads and upon half of their chins rested great masses of hair, unkempt and unruly, causing the Vessel to be grateful that they had no hair to upkeep, their closest equivalent being the tassels that hung from their hat-like head.

Their spirit issued a thought of warning towards them, that these beings may be dangerous or cruel, but also a notion of curiosity, that the Golem should go inspect one up close.

And so, with caution, Wanderer approached one of the creatures, the tallest of the group, and poked it slightly with their weapon of bone.

They were cautious after their encounter with the rod on the surface, but seeing as there was no reaction they got closer, instead prodding it with one of their four arms.

It was this action that caused the creature to wake, bloodshot eyes flashed open and their once stationary arms shot forward, forming strange gestures far faster than one should expect for a creature so old.

Behind their hands trailed red, floating runes that jumped and leapt in the air, whispering to the Vessel in a language they could not understand.

Before Wanderer had any time to react, the hands rested upon their face, forcing magic deep into their mind and soul, images flashed and sounds raced in their head and so, for the first time in their life.

The Golem began to dream.