A golem made of mud was slowly moving through the castle's garden. It was past midnight, and Malcolm, like every night since he had gotten his spellbook from Albert, he practiced. He was a level 6 [Mage] now, but he had not gotten any new skills. He still felt stronger.

He directed his golem to move faster, but for a mud golem, this was the fastest they could go. Air was swirling around it, but it was still moving slower than a walking pace. He ordered it to hit the ground with his fist, but it was so slow it barely left a mark.

"Useless. Stop."

The golem stopped and turned towards the young [Mage]. Malcolm sighed.

"What am I going to do with you? I know you were going to be weak but..."

It looked at him silently. Was it self aware? Could it think at least? Probably not. Malcolm moved his hand towards the golem and it collapsed into a pile of mud.

"[Dispell]."

Usually a [Mage] Golemancer would save his Golem and not dispell it. They took too much time to make to waste without even using, but this one was truly useless. Malcolm was sure he would use his [Warrior] skills and fight better without this liability, even if he did not enjoy doing so. He had been told by his teachers that even a low leveled warrior could kill a weak monster like Goblins.

He was sweating, as he still wasn't used to controlling it. Malcolm had learned [Dispell] after he first succeeded at creating his golem. Since it was a lower level one, he had to individually think of each action it did. Every punch. Every turn of its head. Every step. Well, it was more like... slithering? Sliding across the ground. He hadn't given it legs. It was easier to just give it a large lump for a lower body, legs were still too hard for him to balance.

He was dirty. He was always filthy these days, which made his classmates look at him funny. He had given up hiding now, it was futile. He sat and grabbed his spellbook from the ground.

"So... the next step is using wood. That's going to be hard."

He looked and saw the first step after a mud or dirt golem was a wooden one. They would be fairly stronger and quicker, but would take longer to create. He could also just use wooden armor, or any kind of armor in fact on his creation. He really had to find to find a name for it... or him. He couldn't just keep using 'it' when thinking about him. Or her?

He shook his head and headed back towards his room. All of this would be futile in any kind of fighting. He needed to get better, and faster. He wanted to keep practicing but doing this was mentally exhausting and he was almost out of mana. He thought of a way to give his golem legs before going to bed. Doing this would surely increase the speed two-fold at least. He could even make him run! Probably. It was all about mana anchor points and putting the right amount at the right spot. Malcolm would figure it out. He was sure of it.

He laid down on his bed and fell asleep.

-----------------------------------

Like usual Malcolm was the last one to wake up. A symptom of his garbage sleep schedule. After a quick trip to clean himself, he walked through the breakfast room. It reminded him of Hogwarts, but with more... tables. Like usual he sat grabbed his food and left again. He needed to study. To grow. But he was stopped shortly after.

"Malcolm. Stay, the [Emperor] has an important announcement."

Albert was at the entrance and stopped him. The young [Mage] looked at Vitelius' table. It was elevated as a show of status. He ate with his family, as usual. Malcolm didn't notice it, but Claus wasn't there. He didn't eat at the main table anymore. He ate with Sarah, Blake and the others instead.

"Really? What's it about? Just tell me so I can study."

"I'm afraid I'm not allowed to do so. Just stay."

"Fine."

Malcolm sighed and turned back. Where to even sit? He contemplated just standing next to Albert, but that would surely make him stand out even more, wouldn't it? He looked at the free spots. There was one on Blake's table, next to Sarah. That was a no go, he decided that in a split second. He noticed a smaller table with another girl sitting on it with some... friends? Probably. No one was talking. Perfect. He strode up to them with his plate and sat down without saying a word.

"Oh. Hi. You're Malcolm right?"

He cursed internally. How did she know his name? They had never spoken! He was terrible with names, so he didn't know her's. He felt terrible about it but he responded, trying to not make the silence last too long.

The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

"Yes! I'm, uh, sitting here because there's an announcement?"

"Right. We were told about that."

They sat around and ate quietly after that. It looked like no one there knew each other very well, which was fortunate for him, or at least he thought so. He discreetly looked at each of them.

The girl that had talked to him earlier was... boring? He felt like an asshole for thinking of that. She had no special features about her. She looked like she was average height and she wore glasses. She also had a nose piercing. One was an overweight guy that was eating a huge meal. He had a double... triple chin? He had a well-maintained caesar cut. He guessed he had someone take care of it for him. The last person that was sitting at the table was another girl, but she had dirty purple hair coloring. The kind that was faded after a few weeks.

"So what level are you."

The girl with glasses broke the silence, and Malcolm jumped on his chair, which made him hit his funny bone on the corner of the table. He groaned and grabbed his elbow for dear life.

"Oh! Damn, sorry about that."

She said sorry but she chuckled. After Malcolm recovered from his tragic injury, he answered the question.

"Um, I'd really rather not say. Damn that hurt like hell."

"Right, don't worry I'm pretty weak too, compared to the rest. I'm a level 9 [Archer]. My name's Pauline. Nice to meet ya."

She held out her hand, signaling a handshake. Malcolm reciprocated.

"How did you know I didn't know? Your name, I mean."

"Come on, I could tell. Anyways this is Josh and that's Tara. We never talk, really. This is just where the losers sit. It's convenient for all of us."

Malcolm started to relax. Was this how people felt? This was a conversation. He didn't plan what he was going to say next. He just knew. He hadn't felt this way in... years.

"Tell me about it. I'm Malcolm. Though you already knew that. Level 6 [Mage] and level 4 [Warrior]."

Pauline's eyes widened, and Tara whistled. Josh was too focused on eating to care. He continued.

"Told you I'd rather not say. I'm weak. Probably the lowest levelled guy in this room. It's not like I don't work I'm just really bad at it. I-It's like it takes me twice as much time to get half as far."

Pauline patted him on the back, which really surprised him. He kept eating and a few minutes later, the [Emperor] stood up and coughed a few times, to announce that he was about to start. Pauline nudged Malcolm.

"Looks like it's starting."

"[Heroes]."

He didn't need to call, and ask for their attention. Whatever he said was an order. The noise around the room instantly died and all heads were turned towards him.

"You have made much progress in the month you have been here. I am proud of you all. However, you must go out and practice. On real targets. This will be your first test."

Real targets? Did he mean Demons? Now? Surely not, they were still just beginners. Some whispers ran through the room.

"Silence. You will go to one of our easiest Dungeon called the Arcane leech hive. It is a dungeon approved for bronze rank adventurers by the Adventurers Guild. You will go there and level. You have reached the limits of what training can offer you. To defeat the Demons and their [Demon Queen], you must level."

A dungeon. Fuck. Of course, this day would come. And no amount of saying this was a 'low-level dungeon' would make Malcolm feel less uneasy.

"You will go there supervised. I will not risk you, [Heroes]. My best [Knights] and [Healers] will go with you. Fear not."

Okay. Much better. He relaxed. But that didn't change the fact that his golem would be useless, and he would need to make it again for the dungeon.

"The dungeon is on the outskirts of Ankrea. You will go there today, in two hours. Get ready."

Malcolm scrambled and stood up. Two hours? Impossible.

"Well it was nice to meet you, Pauline, but I have things to do. For the dungeon I mean!"

"Sure. See you around."

"Yeah."

He was the first one out of the room. He practically ran out, which made the students laugh at him. They probably thought he was scared. He cared, but he told himself he didn't. He went outside into the gardens. He lifted up his hand.

"[Earth Manipulation]."

Chunks of mud and dirt levitated towards him. He decided he would bring it to his room and work on his golem there. The [Mage] ran inside and slammed his door. He dropped all the earth on his floor. He'd clean later. He had to show his progress, otherwise would Vitelius even keep him? The Grand [Mage] was already wanting to kick him out. He didn't have any good spells!

He calmed himself down. Think. Okay. Earth. Much better than the wet mud he had yesterday. This was firmer and easier to work with. He used the spell again.

"[Earth Manipulation]."

It rearranged itself slowly. So very agonizingly slowly. Each particle of dirt going at the correct place at the correct time. Legs. How to make them? He shaped the earth in the form of human legs. It collapsed. Too thin. He tried to make them thicker and infuse more mana into them. It collapsed again. Again. Again. How much time had passed? They had no clocks here, and Malcolm couldn't see the sun. This time for sure. He gave the legs a thicker base that got thinner as it went up, but not too thin. He anchored the mana to the bottom of the 'torso'. It held. Good, hold. Hold. He felt like he was about to collapse. He made the arms in the form of two huge lumps of dirt with bits of stone he had gotten on them. He put another anchor on top of the body. He was almost done now. He just needed a head. A golem needing a head seemed silly at first, but it was where the last anchor would be stored. The most important one, that gave the golem the ability to move, contrary to the other ones that were for balance. The tired, shaking [Mage] used the largest stone and the leftover dirt for its head, and then the moment of truth came. He activated it by infusing mana throughout its body. He did his best not to slip. It required extreme concentration. A tiny bit more... now! He pulled his hand away and wind swirled around the room. He breathed tiredly and looked at his creation. It was huge, at more than seven feet. Could it even go through the door?

It was beautiful. Malcolm commanded it to approach. Its steps made him feel like the ground was shaking. It was...

"You're beautiful."

Beautiful. Malcolm had never considered himself an artist back home, but this? This was art. Art in its purest form.

"Your name is..."

The golem was not self-aware. It couldn't think for itself. It was not alive.

But it had a name. And it was...

"Dune."