Inspection and Control

As the beginning wisps of aurora danced around Wanderer’s hooves, the Vessel and their friends came to approach the massive golden walls of the city.

From a distance, the settlement had seemed small in comparison to the other citadels, yet as the Golem came to look upon the full height and length of the circular abode, they saw that it was anything but miniature.

The great golden walls stood at almost four times Wanderer's height and were at least two hundred times that in length.

Geometric carvings were painstakingly embellished in the shiny metal, depicting intervening patterns of sharp points and straight edges.

It took a moment for Wanderer to realise that everything here was carved by hand, an endeavour that would likely have taken months to complete, if not years.

Fascinated at the dedication of whoever had made these defences, the Vessel spent some time doing little but analysing the artistry and architecture of the monument, before taking a step back and beginning to search for an entrance.

Due to their height and sheer angle, even Emio wouldn't be able to scale the wall in front of them, (not without damaging the carvings at least), and so Wanderer turned their sights to a different target, the great gates which were now firmly shut.

In contrast to the barrier, the gates were made of a light wood, similarly carved yet with more organic shapes and patterns, Wanderer even noticed something like writing taking front and centre.

Yet the vast doors were even more fortified than the walls, not a slip or crack to exploit nor an impression to climb.

What the Golem did notice, however, was two very small alcoves on either side of the gate, just large enough for one of the taller humans to cram themselves in.

“That's to protect themselves from the aurora if they are locked out”, the Vessel figured, an idea further confirmed by their Spirit’s confirmation.

Alas, the discovery did little to help them in their quest to scale the walls, and so the Golem walked back a bit to see if they could get a better perspective.

Inexplicably, their vision was drawn to the great tower that rose from the centre of the city, the only building able to be seen from Wanderer's viewpoint, all else blocked by the walls.

It stretched far into the sky, decorated with colourful dyed banners depicting symbols and patterns Wanderer could not understand, contrasting sharply with the shimmering yellow of its structure.

At the very top, a viewing platform gazed out onto the city, those inside obscured by dark glass.

The top of the tower quickly terminated past these black panes, only a thin rod of metal and a blue and white banner adorning the roof of the massive structure.

Wanderer was almost done with their inspection when something caught their eye, a silhouette barely visible behind the dark glass, turning to look at them.

In an instant, they felt a terrible gaze crash upon them, human, yet bolstered by something greater than that, something that felt almost like their own Spirit a thousand times removed.

They were frozen in place as the stare tore apart their soul, dissected them into tiny little pieces and reading every part of the Golem’s past, present and future.

Wanderer struggled, tore and resisted, pushing every fibre of their being into repelling this unknown force.

And just as they felt that the contest would never end, that they would forever be struggling against the hostile gaze, it disappeared, the eyes moving somewhere else, far off in the distance and the silhouette once again disappearing into the shadows of the dark glass.

On instinct, Wanderer sprinted back to the wall and slumped against it, trying their best to move out of line of sight, as their mind caught back up to reality.

The first thing they noticed as the world came back into focus was Emio, who was shifting and shivering in extreme agitation, their eye fixed firmly on Wanderer.

For an instant, they both stared at each other, before Emio seemed to make some kind of realisation and slammed their small body into Wanderer’s four arms, their tendrils wrapping around the Golem like a vice.

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The Vessel was shocked for a moment, yet quickly provided reprieve for the verdestry in a way of slowly stroking their leathery, cacti body.

It seemed that the small monster was able to sense that something was wrong with the Golem, yet were unaware as to what, quickly growing agitated by their uncertainty.

Yet before the Golem could even begin to pay attention to their own thoughts and feelings, their focus was distracted by a disturbing scene, that of their Spirit in panic.

Wanderer had seen their Spirit panic before, when they were being chased by the swarmlings or assaulted by the fog-beasts, but they had always quickly composed themselves afterwards.

However, the panic their Spirit was embroiled in now was not simply fear of the moment, it was a full breakdown, bordering on mania.

Images and emotions fired from the Spirit haphazardly at such speed that the Golem could not even hope to understand its intention, seeming like little more than static to their inferior mind.

It was disturbing, for the most part, their Spirit was always a wall of stability and guidance, always being there to calm Wanderer’s easily stressed mind.

Yet now their Spirit was in a frenzy much like many the Vessel had faced, over an incident that, while scary and most definitely mysterious, wasn't that bad compared to some of the other things the duo had gone through.

“It's going to be ok?” Wanderer awkwardly reassured, their affirmation seeming more like a question than a statement.

Their Spirit didn't even seem to hear them, much too consumed in their own unintelligible worries.

“You don't need to worry, it's gone now”, the Golem sent with a great deal more certainty, yet again their guide was deaf to the feeble attempt.

Seeing their words were not working, Wanderer pondered what they could do to aid their friend, and after a little while of rolling the problem in their mind, they found a solution.

Back in the grasses by the road, their Spirit had taught them to control the magic in their veins, since then, they had nearly forgotten it was a thing they could do, much too consumed in their adventure.

They looked inside themselves once again, and looked toward their magic channels, at the power flowing through them, taking note of how they had straightened since their wound.

Their Spirit is a being of magic, Wanderer thought, perhaps they would be able to be roused by magic.

Summoning what little control they had over their own magic, the Golem flexed their power, trying to force it to interact with the Spirit.

Their first couple of tries, the Vessel was unable to even interact with their own channels, having grown rusty since their previous attempts, however, soon they regained their control and found their next problem.

For all the Golem's life, their magic had been constrained to their soul and the pathways that sprung from it, never leaving, at least of its own accord.

Yet Wanderer had to do the opposite, instead of power going into their soul, from their blessing and their Spirit, they had to reverse that connection and send the energy back out.

Their first instinct was to ask their Spirit, a near mindless action at this point in their life, yet they quickly realised their mistake and, with a pang of despair at having their guide incapacitated, searched for other solutions.

Their vision turned to the small creature in their lap, who was now silently watching the aurora, perhaps, magical as they were, the verdestry would know something of controlling their power.

Yet that idea was quickly discarded, Emio’s control of their own abilities was something Wanderer felt was strictly instinctual, and the secrets of their creation was a mystery to both Golem and verdestry.

“I have no choice then, I will have to work this out on my own.”, the Vessel concluded.

Wanderer began poking and prodding at their insides, trying to work out how exactly they could alter themself.

They found that just as they could speed up the flow of their magic, they could slow it down as well, an action that brought with it a peculiar feeling that the Golem could only liken to lethargy.

Not being a great fan of the notion, the Vessel quickly stopped that particular experiment, finding little use in it for their current purposes, but made sure to keep that ability in mind.

They began to analyse the magic that was flowing into them, from their spirit and blessing, and noticed that they did have some minor control over it, not enough to force it in the other direction or even make a truly noticeable difference, yet it was a chance to achieve the Vessels goal, and they quickly began refining their control.

It was then they had their bright idea, perhaps if the Golem could break the connection between them and their Spirit, for just a moment, the shock would be able to pull the guide out of their panic.

Wanderer quickly gathered all their might and pushed against the tether between them and their guide, not at all prepared for what would come next.

In an instant, Wanderer was assaulted by a hundred different sensations, that of their Spirit waking from their stupor as they began to slip to another realm, only able to establish the connection with a fraction of a moment to spare.

That of a wave of tiredness that overcame the Golem and sent them hurtling to the ground, as their soul missed the power it so sorely needed.

And that of their Spirit, sending thousands of images of places Wanderer could not understand nor comprehend, accompanied by notions of incredible power and unimaginable fear.

The Golem could only comprehend one idea from the mass that was thrust toward them, one they only managed to realise as their head hit the sand.

That the being that had seen them, saw into the Vessel's very soul.

Was a God.