Hayden’s consciousness flickered back into existence like a flame that had barely been snuffed out. His body felt alien, dense, yet disturbingly light like the time his brother Cailan had given him a Lady’s Breath mushroom as an “experiment.”

He tried to move, but his limbs refused to obey, held in place by an invisible force. His thoughts were jumbled, a cacophony of memories and pain, and the overwhelming sense of wrongness coursing through him.

“Ah, you’re awake," came a familiar, hated voice.

Hayden’s eyes snapped open. Inquisitor Morrick stood before him, flanked by two silent guards. Morrick’s expression was unreadable, though Hayden detected a hint of sick amusement in the way his lips curled—a viper of a man who had recently captured his prey.

Without thinking, Hayden tried to lash out, to attack the man who had led him into this nightmare. But as he tried to surge forward, his body refused to budge.

“Stop.” Morrick’s voice was calm but filled with undeniable power.

The command hit Hayden like a wall. His muscles locked in place, and no matter how much he strained, he couldn’t move. Even his aggressive intentions seemed momentarily displaced. The realization sent a wave of frustration through him. He wasn’t in control. He was trapped.

“Ah, good,” Morrick said, stepping closer, hands clasped behind his back. “I know some measure of what you’re feeling, but I wouldn’t waste your energy trying to attack me. You’ll find that your new body has…limitations.”

Hayden’s mind raced. New body? What had they done to him? The memories of the ritual came flooding back—the pain, the rending sensation as his soul was ripped from his body and forced into the golem. He remembered the king’s cold smile and the cold blade plunging into his chest, and then…nothing.

Morrick continued, pacing slowly in front of him, his voice carrying the same sickening calm—like a merchant discussing his wares. “To be honest, I’m a little disappointed. The ritual didn’t quite yield the results we anticipated. “He gestured toward Hayden with a flourish. “The golem form was supposed to be…grander. A towering figure of living stone and power. But instead…”he paused, giving Hayden a once-over. “You’re rather underwhelming, wouldn’t you say?”

With a flick of his wrist, Morrick conjured a surface of writhing shadows, the dark tendrils coiling and wriggling like snakes with their heads removed. They solidified into a crude, yet effective mirror. “See for yourself.”

Hayden’s gaze was drawn to the reflection, and what he saw made his mind reel.

The figure standing in the mirror was not the towering, monstrous golem from the ritual. Instead, it was a human-sized form, made entirely of gray stone, with cracks and rough patches that gave him a rugged, unfinished look. His body was solid, but not massive—strong, but not hulking. The intricate sigils from the ritual, which had shone brightly during the soul rending, were now gone, leaving only bare stone.

His eyes—blue and crystalline—gleamed from deep set sockets, their glow wintry and alien. And there was no mouth. Just smooth, featureless stone where his face should have been—a stone helmet for a stone knight. At his joints, thin rivers of molten rock glowed faintly, the only sign of life in the otherwise still form. They didn’t generate any heat, at least not that he could feel. They pulsed with a quiet energy, a reminder of the unnatural magic that now kept him alive.

“Feel free to explore,” Morrick gestured.

Hayden reached up with one stone hand to touch his face, but the texture was as unyielding as he expected—smooth, lifeless rock divorced from the weaknesses of the flesh. The reflection confirmed what he feared. He was no longer himself.

“As you can see,” Morrick said as he dismissed the shadow mirror, his tone mocking. “The result is…different. Smaller. Less impressive. But still functional.” He stepped closer, peering at Hayden with a clinical eye. “The king wasn’t thrilled, but we’ll make do. After all, power comes in many forms.”

Hayden’s thoughts were a whirlwind of confusion and horror. He had no mouth—how could he speak? He tried to form words, but nothing happened. There was no voice, no breath, just silence.

“Ah, that’s right,” Morrick said, as if reading his thoughts—maybe as his new master, he could. “No need to panic. You’ll find that communication is still possible. Just…not the way you’re used to.”

Hayden focused, trying to form the words in his mind instead of his throat. To his surprise, it worked. His thought projected outward, resonating in the air around them like an echo. “What have you done to me?” The voice was not his own—it was hollow, distant, like a whisper carried on the wind, but it was unmistakably his thoughts.

Morrick smiled. “Mental communication. Your new form doesn’t require speech in the traditional sense. You can still communicate with your mind. Useful, isn’t it?”

Useful? Hayden’s mind reeled with disgust. He was trapped inside a stone body, stripped of his humanity, forced to communicate like some disembodied spirit. This wasn’t useful, it was a nightmare.

“Why?”Hayden projected, his voice rumbling with anger. “Why do this? Why turn me into this?”

Morrick’s expression softened into something resembling pity. An emotion that looked wholly out of place on his serpentine face. It was clearly another mask. “You’ve been given a grand opportunity, Hayden. The king couldn’t suffer you to live. You were too much of a risk. Now, you’re no longer a risk and you’re no longer bound by the weaknesses of the flesh. Your power will serve the kingdom, and through you, we’ll conquer our enemies. The king has plans for you—great plans.”

Hayden wanted to scream, but he found his emotions increasingly difficult to summon in his stone body. He felt like a prisoner in his own mind, every action bound to a cursed form.

“You should be grateful,” Morrick continued. “Not many get the chance to serve in such a way. Your very existence will change the course of history on the continent.” He turned, motioning for the guards to come forward. “It’s time. You’ll be taken to the next phase of your training. There’s much to learn if you’re to live up to your potential.”

As the guards stepped closer, Hayden’s thoughts seethed. He didn’t want this. He didn’t want to be a tool, a weapon for someone else’s war. But for now, there was nothing he could do.

The golem stirred as Morrick gave him a command to follow the guards and listen to their orders. His new body felt strange. He had spent his whole life as a human, moving with the grace and reflexes of his noble upbringing and martial training. But now, everything about his form was heavier, more deliberate. Every step forward echoed louder than it should, and every movement felt alien to him, as if the ground wasn’t quite sure how to hold him hum.

As he walked toward the end of the underground chamber, Hayden attempted to adjust to the sensation of his stone body, trying to step lightly but finding it difficult to gauge just how much force was behind his movements. The guards flanked him, their expressions flat, while Inquisitor Morrick watched on in smug superiority.

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Hayden’s thoughts were everywhere, still reeling from the revelation of what he had become. As they neared the exit of the chamber, he turned his head slightly, trying to get a better look at his surroundings, his body following suit a bit too abruptly.

Suddenly, his shoulder clipped the guard walking beside him.

There was a thud.

A loud crash.

Before Hayden realized what had happened, the guard he’d bumped into was sent flying through the air like a sack of grain hurled by a giant. The guard sailed across the chamber, his arms flailing, before slamming into the far end of the stone wall with a resounding crash, his armor clattering as he crumpled into a heap on the floor, seemingly unconscious.

Hayden blinked in shock, his mind taking a moment to catch up with the scene. He hadn’t meant to hit the guard—barely even nudged him, in fact—but his new body apparently didn’t know the difference between a light tap and the springing arm of a catapult.

Morrick tilted his head, a bemused expression creeping onto his face. He raised an eyebrow, clearly more amused than concerned. “Well, that was unexpected.”

The other guard, wide-eyed and aghast, rushed to his fallen comrade’s side, dropping to one knee to check for signs of life. The heap of armor and limbs stirred slightly, and the fallen man let out a groan, proving he was alive, but thoroughly out of commission.

“You—” the remaining guard stammered, looking up at Hayden with a mix of disbelief and horror. “You just—he’s an adept!”

Hayden took a step back, holding up his stone hands defensively. “I didn’t mean to!” his voice echoed telepathically, and despite the strange nature of it, there was a definite note of sheepishness.

Morrick, on the other hand, chuckled softly under his breath. “You’re stronger than you look.” He flanked at the unconscious warrior, then back at Hayden, his bemusement evident. “You’ll need to work on control, I think.”

Hayden nodded, feeling awkward and embarrassed but also…intrigued. As much as the situation was unexpected, he couldn’t help but notice a small detail. He had acted unintentionally and been able to harm one of his captors. Perhaps his servitude wasn’t as total as he feared.

Morrick’s irritated tone snapped him from his musing. “Oh, get up.” He said waspishly to the guard still checking on his companion. “Take the golem to the Gale Master, your companion is fine.”

The remaining guard looked conflicted, but fear of the inquisitor override whatever loyalties he held to his fellow knight. He nodded and rose, gesturing for Hayden to follow him. The golem complied, noticing with amusement that the guard gave him a much wider berth this time.

The journey through the twisted underground tunnels felt like an eternity. Hayden, now in his unfamiliar, stone-bound form, was marched by the guard with no explanation of where he was being taken. The youth peppered him with questions, but was met with a wall of silence.

The corridors were winding, almost labyrinthine, as if designed to disorient those who traveled through them. The walls were damp and cold, lit only by the occasional glowing crystal embedded into the stone, casting flickering light as if filled with lightning.

Finally, they arrived at a large chamber. The doors creaked open, revealing a wide, well lit room dominated by strange equipment and tables filled with maps and scrolls.

At the center stood a tall wiry figure, clad in dark wind-blown robes that shimmered as if woven from clouds and air currents. His long, silver hair flowed freely down his back, and his eyes crackled with barely controlled magic. He was different from anyone Hayden had ever encountered, his presence radiating an intense stormy mana that sent an instinctual alarm through Hayden’s mind.

The unfamiliar man’s gaze snapped to Hayden like a bolt of lightning, and a look of confusion crossed his face. His browns furrowed like thunderclouds as his eyes darted between the holem and the guard, disbelief clear in his expression.

“This?” The man’s voice rumbled, his words a palpable warning. “This is the support that Terravorn sends me? A single…golem?”

Hayden felt the man’s scorn as if it were a tangible force. He stood silently, though inside his mind, his thoughts raced. He had no idea who this man was or what he was talking about, but the tension in the air felt charged.

The man advanced, his robes rippling unnaturally, as though caught in a wind only he could feel. He turned to the guard, eyes sparking with fury. “Does your king expect me to believe that I can overthrow the Tempest Council with a single golem?”

The guard shifted uncomfortably but remained silent.

“I’m a Gale Master of Strumveil and I demand to speak to that snake Morrick,” his voice crackling with anger. “Not some common knight. This was not the deal! Terravorn promised me real support. Soldiers, artifacts—” His eyes flared with anger as he gestured toward Hayden. “Not a single, dumb puppet! How am I supposed to accomplish anything with this?”

The air around the Gale Master began to ripple and crackle with energy. Hayden could feel the mana gathering around him, swirling like a vortex, ready to strike. But something strange happened—where Hayden might have before felt fear or unease, he felt nothing. The mana brushed against his form like a breeze, unable to elicit anything from him. In fact, he felt miniscule threads of mana break off from the gathering spell and get absorbed into his stony carapace. It felt…good.

The guard made a placating gesture. “With all respect, Gale Master, Inquisitor Morrick is too busy to see you.” He shared a sheepish smile. “You must understand, there are other forces the inquisitor must marshal to help your cause. We’re loaning this golem to you because it’s special.”

The mana surrounding the ascendant paused like a coiling viper preparing to strike. “Special?” he repeated mockingly. “In what was? It looks like a normal construct to me.”

The guard stood his ground. “It’s largely immune to magic.”

Hayden whirled around to look at the guard. The admission was news to him and it hung in the air for a moment. When he glanced at the Gale Master, he noticed the man’s expression flicker with surprise. He stepped forward again, this time circling around Hayden, his eyes narrowed as though inspecting a curious object.

“Immune?” The Gale Master’s voice was softer now, but filled with suspicion. “Explain.”

The guard continued, his voice steady. “Direct magical attacks will have little to no effect on this golem. They’ll be absorbed, furthering its ascendancy. It can only be killed indirectly by the effects of magic, not from the destructive potential of the spell itself.”

Seeing no interruption, the guard continued. “This is a newly crafted weapon in the king’s arsenal—the first, and only, of its kind. You can see how valuable the king sees you to lend such a weapon to your cause.”

The Gale Master rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Newly crafted,” he repeated. “Your king is meeting the letter of our agreement if not the spirit.” He glanced up at the guard. “Your king means for me to train his weapon for him?”

The guard shrugged. “I hesitate to opine on His Majesty’s intentions. I was only told that this golem would be useful. If it happens to learn something during the conflict—” he spread his hands helplessly, “then it’s a win-win scenario for both factions.”

Haydne stood silently, absorbing every word of the exchange. Inside, he was contemplating. The king’s plans were being revealed and he was finally understanding his part to play in them. Considering the circumstances, it wasn’t necessarily a disadvantaged position. He would learn, master this new form, and take revenge on the man that orchestrated it all.

“Fine, I’ll take it.” The Gale Master declared—his tone and demeanor a far cry from the angry storm they were before. He looked at Hayden's crystal eyes. “Let’s go, golem.”

“I have a name,” the golem voice rang out telepathically, causing the Gale Master to stop in his tracks. There was a moment of surprised silence.

The Gale Master turned, his expression morphing into curiosity. “You can speak?”

“I’m not just a golem,” Hayden replied, projecting his thoughts more clearly. “My name is Hayden.”

The Gale Master studied him for a long moment, his eyes narrowing thoughtfully. Then, after a brief pause, a smile spread across his face. It wasn’t entirely warm, but it wasn’t one of mockery either.

“Hayden, is it?” the Gale Master said, a flicker of amusement in his voice. “Well then, Hayden, it seems I underestimated you.” He inclined his head. “I am Elric Tharn, Gale Master of the Settling Storm Order. It appears we’ll be working together for the near future.”

Hayden didn’t respond right away, still processing everything, but he nodded slightly in acknowledgment. For the first time since his transformation, he felt a flicker of control—however small.

“Come, then Hayden. Let’s see what you can do.”