The journey through the Tempest Peaks was both relentless and exhilarating. Hayden moved alongside the mounted members of the Gale Master’s order, his stone form pounding against the rocky path in a steady rhythm.
While the others rode powerful horses bred for the extreme weather and treacherous terrain, Hayden’s new body allowed him to run without pause. At first, the continuous movement felt strange—he expected fatigue to set in, for his breaths to grow heavy. But his body didn’t breathe, and his legs never grew weary.
The ever-present storm-laden skies loomed above, swirling with dark clouds that rumbled with distant thunder. The path wound between craggy cliffs and sheer drops, the mountains alive with the sound of howling winds and distant lightning strikes.
Occasionally, Hayden would glance at the riders, catching curious glances thrown his way as he kept pace without faltering. Their expressions ranged from curiosity to skepticism. He wasn’t used to being looked at this way, and he suspected they still doubted his usefulness after their last encounter.
As the hours passed, Hayden began to notice something happening with his body. His skin, which had absorbed the energy from the Stormguard he fought, started to shift. The obsidian blackness gradually lightened, reverting back to its original pale gray. The lightning sparks that had danced across his frame faded, and the powerful energy he absorbed slowly dispersed. His mana-infused strength and speed diminished with it, though he remained resilient. He realized that the energy he had stolen from his vanquished foes was like fuel—temporary, potent, but quickly spent.
The transformation felt natural, though there was a hint of progression as his body returned to its original form. The dark, lean efficiency he wielded in battle faded, but it was replaced by a self assurance that couldn’t have been learned anywhere else.
With each mile, as Hayden moved through the harsh landscape, his mind fell into a rhythm. The pace of his steps, the echo of his feet against the earth, the rush of wind—all of it became a kind of meditation. He began to recall his one-time mentor Lyra’s words on meditation and mana absorption. Those concepts had been so foreign at the time, but now they felt prescient.
Hayden turned his attention inward, attempting to channel the ambient mana in the air as she had taught him. It was a far different experience than when he was human. His old body had needed to breathe in and release mana, never able to hold more than his physical limits allowed. But now, he could feel a core within him, a pulsing energy generator at his center, quietly absorbing a portion of the mana that surrounded him. His new body didn’t just house his soul; it was a vessel ready to drink in the power around it.
The process was laborious, requiring intense concentration to focus on drawing in the mana without letting it disperse. He could feel the mana in the air, a faint tingle of eclectic tingle mixed with the steady hum of wind and water elements that flowed through the Tempest Peaks themselves. Bit by bit, he channeled that energy into his core, feeling it settle deep within him.
His mind calmed with each step, the repetitive motion helping him center his focus. His golem form accepted the mana more easily than he expected, but he realized he needed to actively guide it, focusing on absorption and restraint. Without focus, the mana slipped away, and he felt it trickling back into the air like water slipping through his fingers.
The journey stretched on, his body keeping pace effortlessly, and soon Hayden was able to channel the mana almost unconsciously, weaving the rhythm of his movements with the quiet draw of mana into his core. He could never reach the same intensity as in battle, but there was a steady flow, a subtle power gathering within him. The absorption became easier, smoother, and for the first time, he felt like he was beginning to understand the potential of becoming a golem.
By the time the group reached what the order named the Shattered Plains, the rocky landscape transformed into a wide jagged expanse. The mountains gave way to uneven terrain, scattered with sharp rocks and deep crevices, their edges gleaming in the dim light like shards of broken glass. A powerful wind swept across the plains, carrying with it the faint taste of storm mana, rich and potent.
Recessed in the heart of the plains was their destination, the temple complex of the Settling Storm Order. It was a sprawling multi-level holy fortress carved directly into the face of a vast plateau. Rising from the rocky landscape, it was a formidable sight—an intricate network of terraces, towers, and bridges creating a perfect fusion of metal and stone, crowned by gleaming spires that crackled faintly with static electricity.
As they neared the base of the structure, Hayden noticed a marvel of magic and engineering. Each level of the temple complex was connected by metal platforms that glided smoothly up and down the sides of the plateau. They hovered effortlessly between metal rails embedded in the rock, connecting each level of the structure. The entire system glowed faintly with purple lightning, giving it an otherworldly sheen.
Glass bulbs filled with lightning were festooned across the complex, casting a warm, steady glow across the headquarters. Every terrace, corridor, and courtyard was illuminated, making the entire temple appear like a beacon in the stormy darkness.
The architecture was laced with clockwork mechanisms that added both functionality and aesthetic. Ornate gears and pulleys rotated quietly within the walls, powering massive clockwork gates and retractable bridges. Delicate brass coils and steel springs peeked from carved alcoves in the stone, turning in synchronized motions.
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Every so often, a gear would click into place, triggering a chain reaction that shifted elements of the temple’s structure opening new pathways or securing other portions of the fortress with a complex arrangement of portcullises and mana barriers. The rhythm of the mechanisms added a faint, steady ticking sound that was audible even on the plains, merging with the sounds of the surrounding storms.
The base of the fortress was marked by a massive stone wall jutting out from the plateau, a deliberate imposing barrier against any who might wish to enter uninvited. As Hayden, Master Tharn, and the rest of their companions stepped through the main gate at the base of the plateau, he noted that the wall wasn’t just a show of strength; it served a functional purpose, protecting the inner workings of the complex while shielding the central floating platform that connected the lower ground with the temple above.
Hayden paused to study the platform. It was impressive—a wide, circular platform of polished metal framed by intricate sigils that flowed faintly with a pale purple light. It was surrounded by metal rails embedded in the stone walls, stretching upward in a continuous path toward the higher terraces. Hayden spotted similar platforms moving in tandem, each gliding smoothing along their tracks, ferrying robed figures and armored knights through the levels of the temple like clockwork.
Master Tharn noticed Hayden’s moment of hesitation, and stepped beside him. His normally fierce expression softened with something close to pride as he took in the sight. “Welcome to the heart of the Settling Storm Order, Hayden. Our Headquarters—and if our ancestors are kind, the future capital of Sturmveil.”
Hayden turned to him, still in awe. “These platforms… they’re not like anything I’ve ever seen,” he said, his telepathic voice echoing with genuine curiosity.
Tharn nodded, a hint of satisfaction in his gaze as he gestured toward them. “They’re a unique invention of Sturmveil engineering, powered by our magic. We harness lightning to create magnetic fields strong enough to carry people and supplies from one level to the next. It’s efficient and fast, but most importantly it’s secure.”
Hayden looked back at the lift, watching as one platform glided smoothly upward, leaving a faint trail of crackling energy in its wake. He couldn’t help but be impressed by the ingenuity, a blend of magic and engineering wrapped in a chaotic package that seemed to epitomize the people of Sturmveil.
“And in times of war?” Hayden asked, glancing back at the Gale Master.
Tharn’s smile grew sharper. “They’re deactivated, and access to the higher levels becomes nearly impossible for any force without an immortal to fly them. Considering the practicality of that feat, it’s a relatively remote possibility.”
He gestured toward the metal rails glowing along the walls. “These are designed to be redirected as well. When activated, they can discharge enough electricity to incinerate unwanted visitors. In essence, our defenses allow us to control the flow of movement in and out of the temple, making this fortress nearly impregnable.
After explaining the lift, the Gale Master strode upon the platform and Hayden and the rest of the order quickly followed, horses in tow. They rode it all the way up and the golem couldn’t help gawking at another unfamiliar sight.
Clockwork automatons moved through the corridors, their gleaming metal limbs jointed with precision and powered by small, pulsing soul gems of Terravornian make The gems gave these metal golems their semi-autonomous nature. Hayden noticed some were tasked with menial chores, like cleaning or carrying supplies, while others were built for more specific purposes, guiding visitors, securing doors, or even reinforcing the defenses of the temple. Their eyes, tiny gemstones set into brass sockets, flickered with pale light, hinting at the arcane power that animated them.
The automatons varied in size and function, from small spider-like constructs that scurried along walls, checking for structural weaknesses, to towering humanoid forms outfitted with storm-imbued weapons and sturdy metal plating. These larger ones had bodies covered in layered, riveted metal plates, with powerful arms equipped to both crush and guard. The energy from their soul gems pulsed visibly, a rhythmic beat that resonated with the storm mana coursing through the complex.
Their lift stopped briefly at one of the higher tiers of the complex to let off the order members and their mounts. One of Tharn’s acolytes stepped forward to retrieve his Master’s horse as well. Hayden went to follow them, but the Gale Master stopped him with a hand. “We’re going to the top,” he explained. “We need to meet with the elders of the Order and decide our next steps.”
Hayden nodded mutely, content to follow the Gale Master’s lead. He was beginning to feel far out of his depth.
The lift continued until they rose to the highest level of the plateau and stepped off. Here, more clockwork figures patrolled what appeared to be the Gale Master’s Palace, a structure that looked as if it had been plucked from a dream and forged in metal and magic. Hayden didn’t know much about architecture, but it rivaled anything he had witnessed in the capital of Terravorn.
The residence was a clockwork cathedral with tiring spires and archways adorned with intricate gears, levers, and rotating mechanisms, all ticking in seamless, synchronized rhythm. Its towering glass-paned windows were framed in bronze and steel, casting a faint ethereal glow as stormlight filtered through. Along its facade, lightning veins etched into the stone pulsed with amethyst light, charging the enormous gears and mechanisms that shifted around the palace’s main towers. Above, a massive dome capped the structure, crowned with lightning rods that crackled with raw mana, channeling power directly into the palace’s core. The entrance itself was flanked by towering statues of clockwork guardians, their brass limbs layered with storm-hardened steel and soul gem eyes glowing faintly as they stood watch.
“The elders should have already been informed of my arrival,” Master Tharn said briskly. “We’ll head directly to my central meeting hall and figure out how we’re going to prosecute this war against the Sky Lords.”
Master Tharn glanced over at Hayden with a sly smirk. “Ready to go to war?” he asked.
Several responses went through the golem’s mind but were discarded almost immediately. He wanted to say he wasn’t ready. He wanted to complain that he was just a noble’s son unfairly trapped against his will. But in truth, Hayden was ready. He wanted to see the limits of his new body. He wanted to train, to fight, to ascend. Maybe in the process, he could find his freedom.
He nodded to the Gale Master. “Let’s go to war,” he declared.