Spectacle and Crossroads

Before Wanderer lay a view far surpassing any that they had so far encountered, the high altitude allowing an unparalleled perspective of the land.

Directly in front of them lay the familiar hills, mountains and valleys of the forest they found themselves in, the features of the landscape seeming in competition to reach the highest heights or the lowest lows.

Upon some of these ascents lay large trees much like the one on which they currently stood, their own conifer, however, dwarfed any other by an order of magnitude.

The moat-like lake was also unique to the tree on which they stood, its choking mists and diverse wildlife were likely the reason for the tree's unusual growth.

To their left lay a city of man, something the Golem vaguely recognised from Emio’s visions, built into one of the shallower hillsides.

Short, cylindrical buildings of white and blue shone in the rising sun, and paths branched off from the city in every direction, each one disappearing into the surrounding forests.

And to their right lay vast, dry plains, in which dark soil sprouted massive fields of long, thick grass, only the occasional tree and mound of insect-created earth stood from the veritable sea of blades.

But the greatest sight of all lay past both of these landmarks, as far as Wanderer's perception would allow a desert of black sand rested, glittering blue and purple in the sunrise.

Spotted in amongst the extensive wasteland were golden cities, their make unfamiliar to the Golem, each one had a massive, inward-curving wall surrounding it completely, making it so that, even from Wanderer's viewpoint, they could see nothing inside.

The only thing that revealed itself from each of the citadels was a long, golden tower that stretched far above the rest of the city.

As the Vessel looked closer toward the volcano, they began to see great pits in the black sand, each one so wide and deep that Wanderer had little trouble spotting them all, even from their current position, with the desert far in the distance.

But the desert wasn't entirely sand, rarely, black, marble mesas rose from the sand, veins of golden ore running in between them.

Interestingly, the colossal formations of rock stayed a great distance from the fiery mountain, seeming to almost form a crude ring around it.

But of course, most noticeable of all, a great, active volcano rose from the blackened sands and from its mouth spewed deep, dark-crimson lava, far darker than one would expect the molten rock to be.

Despite its colouration, it flowed like water down the side of the mountain before pooling at its bottom, where it hardened into a sea of black obsidian glass.

Wanderer had seen marvellous sights before, the rolling hills and mountains, the coral forest and the changing sky, but this?

This was New.

Somewhere in their travels, the forested ascents became a little duller, the once breathtaking colours, texture and sounds, all a little more, familiar.

The place still excited them, of course, new things still lay around every corner, and they felt they could stay here for a long, long time without finding everything, but similar to their Spirit, they were a creature of adventure, of exploration.

The unfamiliar excited them, the want to learn what they didn’t know drove them forward, so as they lay their vision upon a landscape, a world, so new and devoid of anything they were familiar with, their soul almost cried with excitement.

But they would not rush there, despite their want to, they had to be careful, the fog, the temple, the Magi, all these things taught the Vessel that while this world was beautiful, it was also dangerous.

And another fear entered their mind, suggested by their Spirit, the fear that one day, they would stop finding wonder in the world around them, and instead blindly rush to the next place, uncaring of all that they could see, could know.

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

The thought scared them, their Spirit shared their fear, and so they resolved to be slow and mindful in their travels.

“I will enjoy my journey”, they thought.

The party sat in awe of the view until the sun had risen beyond its previous hold, and shed its azure light plainly across the land.

But their revelry was ruined by a terrible, yet familiar, sound, the shouts and yells of pursuing men.

Hurriedly turning their gaze toward the trunk once again, Wanderer beheld a dreaded scene.

Already advancing toward them was the imposing bodyguard, intent on finishing their prey, behind them their Magi employer, along with five other men who were still advancing up the tree trunk, aided by thin climbing picks.

Where their passage across the branch took the party half of an hour, due to their careful pace across the icy surface, the armoured man descended upon them in minutes, aided by firm, unbreakable steps.

All the while Wanderer was retreating further down the branch, the floor beneath them growing more and more unstable.

For a moment, panic began to consume the Golem, but the memories of their near-death experience and its resolution stood strong, and they tried to signal Emio to lift them away as they did before.

But the verdestry had other plans, on five tendrils they rose in the air, the other four all purposed with the single intent of destruction, all posed like a snake and ready to strike.

Facing the challenge, the warrior drew their sword, long and brutally curved, and charged toward the party, shield raised.

Now truly panicked, Wanderer questioned if they should intervene in Emio’s attack, stop them as they did before, or break their own promise in order to save themself.

But the Vessel never had to choose, the branch underneath them, overburdened by the weight of man, golem and verdestry, snapped.

In an instant, the group was falling down from the massive tree, pine needles whipping them as they fell.

With a single tendril wrapped around Wanderer's waist, Emio desperately tried to latch on to the passing branches, but their weight and momentum were too much, anything they grabbed tore and broke off in their grip.

Realising the issue, Wanderer grabbed at the weight-bearing limb, trying to tear it away so that Emio may save themself.

Yet by the time the Verdestry realised their intent, much less decided upon following their request, it was too late, the branches had passed and they fell with little chance of escape.

The mighty trunk of the tree passed Wanderer by, and to their relief, the rooted mountainside did as well, fateing them to land in the misty lake.

“The waters will be kinder”, they hoped.

Their Spirit began to speak to them with urgency, directing them to move their body into a more streamlined position, instead of the wild one in which they currently resided.

As their position shifted, their vision, which had been directed upwards, as they were falling with their back toward the waters, allowed them a greater view of their destination, the rapidly approaching lake surface.

Yet this was not their focus in that moment, the horrified face of the warrior taking up the majority of their current attention.

Quite far below them, their metal armour and bulky build having increased gravity's effect, flailed the once stoic bodyguard, their mouth was open as if they were screaming, yet if they were, the howling wind was drowning their cries.

In contrast to the now stable Wanderer, they flailed and struggled against the howling wind and grasping gravity, their panic caused them to spin and rock in the air, their heavy armour and still firmly grasped shield worsening this effect.

Before Wanderer could even think of a way to help them, the man hit the water, a cruel slap audible even through the rushing gale, a moment later both the Vessel and Emio dived deep into the water, their superior stances taking much of the water's sting.

The Vessel took a moment to collect themselves, the force of their fall having disorientated them.

As they came back to full awareness, however, their vision found the drowning bodyguard, forced unconscious by their brutal entry to the lake.

The Golem’s body began to move in a subconscious effort to help, yet their mind drove them to hesitate.

Had not this very man attempted to kill them, pursued them high and far in their chase with the goal of their destruction?

“Should I leave him?” was what Wanderer thought.

It would be so easy for them to let their transgressor sink to the depths, their heavy armour dragging them deep into the water, it was no stretch to say that the Golem's inaction in helping the warrior would not go against their oath.

After all, they had hardly caused their would-be murderer’s current situation.

An errant thought appeared in the Vessel’s mind, “Why did they try to kill me?”.

“Because I am a Golem”, they deduced, but why would the humans wish to hurt Golems?

Memories of the greater Golems’ brutal efficiency in killing came back to Wanderer, images of how the Golem cut and tore their way through their opposition with little care to the lives that they took.

“They are scared” Wanderer realised, just as the snakes on the mountainside struck them in fear, so too did the humans, and so too did the figure slowly sinking in front of them.

And as the realisation struck them, they raced forth to the unconscious body, hoping they weren’t too late.