Chapter 431: Seven Seasons of Change (Beginning of book 6. Properly.)
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A year and half had passed since the Fool had left Alric one late summer’s morning. Nearly seven seasons since he’d fled his homeland to escape the Ravener’s return.
And those seven seasons had brought change, as time tends to.
But, there are many kinds of changes in the universe.
There are small ones: a man sewing a new pair of trousers, a woman buying a jug of milk from a different farmer, or even a king deciding to have boar pate with breakfast instead of duck.
Then there were changes that were great to some, but with short reach: a young couple wedding under a summer moon, the birth of a wolf pup in Coille Forest, the blow thrown by a young man that found the face of a former friend.
And, then there were titanic changes; ones with ripples that reached across land and sea, sweeping up all as they passed: the rise of a tyrant, the wrath of a deity, or the fall of an empire. Some were even greater, reaching across planes and affecting beings who dwelled in different worlds.
And in seven seasons? Those seven seasons had been full of titanic changes, even if they had not yet fully come to pass. Even if those that made those changes were not quite aware of how great they would be yet.
Within the research castle in the land of Greymoor in the Kingdom of Thameland—yet unnamed by its builders—many of those sources of great change had gathered.
There was Chancellor Baelin, head of the University of Generasi, and a symbol of power by any measure. Beside a roaring fire, he shared knowledge with Professor Vernia Jules—head of the university’s alchemy department—and three of Thameland’s Heroes.
The Saint was absent, but the Champion, warrior of Uldar; and the Chosen, leader of the Heroes; were present with the Sage. Along with them was a mysterious member of the fae, known to most as the Guide.
Known to some as the Stalker.
But the Sage paid little attention to chancellors, fae, Heroes or alchemists. Her mind was elsewhere, outside of this room, focused on one who was absent.
The priests of Thameland had never found Uldar’s Fool…Drestra the Sage thought she might have.
And that he was closer than was thought.
Outside of the keep, in the snow-locked courtyard on a winter’s night, the Fool of Uldar was called ‘father’ for the first time.
And so another change had come to his life.
Alexander Roth’s mind reeled under the weight of that word. Somewhere in his visions of his future, he’d expected that there might be someone who would call him father one day.
He loved his girlfriend, Theresa Lu, and planned to marry her if she would have him. As for children, he really hadn’t given that much thought. In his hometown of Alric, having children was just something people did.
They grew up.
They worked.
They married.
And they had children.
The only folk who didn’t take that path were mostly priests and scholars, or the very curmudgeonly like his old boss McHarris. In Generasi, most folk made different choices. Some would dedicate their lives to careers, research, magic, or the arts. Others would simply take up lives of travel and exploration, leaving behind thoughts of building home, hearth and family.
On some deep level, Alex Roth knew he could choose that sort of life if he wanted, but the young man from Alric hadn’t really left those old town traditions and life paths behind.
Therefore, it wouldn’t be at all surprising for there to be at least one small someone in his life someday to call him ‘father.’
But, he’d never— in his wildest imaginings—expected that the someday would be now, and that the someone would be a construct.
Standing before him was his newly evolved golem: Claygon.
He towered roughly teen feet tall and looked even more ferocious than the goddess statues in the Cave of the Traveller that the fire-beams in his hands and head had come from. From his creators’ hands, the sculpted form of an invincible, four-armed warrior with sharpened teeth had been born. He’d been crafted of grey clay with a surface carved to imitate intricate, full plate armour adorned with scenes of warriors and monsters among the filigree.
The three fire-gems sparkled in his palms and forehead, connected to a powerful golem core. In the light of a glowing sapling—a magical aeld tree—they seemed to shine with their own inner fire.
Each seemed a window to the new power within.
For, Claygon had changed too.
In a battle of life and death, power had bathed him from an unknown entity, turning his body from clay to fine marble. He was now stronger, tougher, richer with mana and…he’d also transformed in other ways.
And to Alex, perhaps this way was the greatest.
‘Father.’
At last—after many months—Claygon had communicated, and that remarkable word had been his first. Alex had been granted that wondrous title, not by a toddler of his and Theresa’s blood, or a child adopted by choice, but by a golem crafted by his and his sister’s hands.
Inside, Alex felt a torrent of emotions: love, shock, confusion, delight, awe, fear and more. They raced through him, leaving him paralysed, not knowing quite how to react.
And he didn’t think the Mark could help him.
But, he knew one thing for sure.
This moment would decide the strength and direction of his and Claygon’s bond.
“Father?” Claygon’s voice asked in his mind. It was deep, like the rumbling of the earth, but childlike in a way: uncertain, yearning, loving and unknowing.
And fearful.
Vulnerability emanated through their link, telling Alex that what he said now would either create great change, or do irrevocable damage. He’d heard tales in Shale’s workshop of evolved golems who were met with rejection and fear by their creators. It would always end in rampages, torches, pitchforks and destruction.
He thought of the first time he’d met Drestra: the Sage had been unheard by everyone around her, and had turned agitated and bitter. He thought of Selina, she’d feared rejection from everyone, including her own brother when her fire affinity was discovered.
He even thought of Brutus—brought home from the woods by Theresa as a pup—with his six eyes shining bright with curiosity.
What would have happened had Theresa been a cruel master? Alex’s gaze fell on Claygon’s fire-gems. How long would it have taken for those bright eyes to grow dull?
But the young wizard, the golem maker, had no intention of dulling eyes or fire-gems. He’d treated Claygon with love, not only to avoid rampages and mayhem, but because he loved the silent giant that he and his sister had built.
And so he responded in the only way he could.
“Claygon!” he shouted, his smile growing so wide it hurt his cheeks. “You can talk!”
Alex sprinted across the snow, kicking up little clouds of white powder and leaping through the air, landed on his warm torso, wrapping his arms around him.
“Father?” The gentle voice echoed through Alex’s mind as the young man squeezed his torso tight.
“You talked!” The Thameish wizard’s voice cracked as tears welled up in his eyes and joy surged through his chest. “Oh by the Traveller, you can taaaalk!”
The golem stood frozen, watching his creator—his father—through marble eyes. Feelings rushed through their link; surprise, relief and…a bubbling, rising feeling of happiness.
“Is…this…right?” Claygon asked, his lower arms gently wrapping around Alex, hugging the young wizard. His grip was powerful, and for a—brief, claustrophobic moment—a little stab of fear went through Alex; Claygon’ arms felt like the earth rising up to consume him.
The golem hesitated.
“It’s okay,” Alex said gently, looking up at Claygon’s face. “It’s okay. You can probably feel my feelings through our link, can’t you? Just like I can feel yours.”
He spoke slowly and with the most soothing tones in his voice; he couldn’t imagine what it must have been like for Claygon, suddenly coming to full sapience. If it were him, he’d feel scared and confused.
There would be things that needed explaining.
And he would need reassuring.
“It’s okay, you can hug me. I know you won’t hurt me,” he said. “Sometimes people get feelings and little emotions that pass quickly. It’s natural, but they don’t define us. It’s our decisions that do. And I’m deciding I want you to hug me, if you want to.”
The golem paused, and Alex could feel a torrent of emotions rushing through their link.
And then.
Trepidation came through along with nervous, flickering hope.
The arms slowly wrapped around Alex, hugging him gently. One of the massive stone hands slowly patted the young wizard’s back. Alex smiled, unleashing all of his giddiness, letting it race through his bond with his golem. Letting him know that his affection was desired, trusted and reciprocated.
Slowly, the trepidation began to vanish, pushed aside by that growing hope and a child-like, simple feeling of pure joy.
“Father,” the voice said, its confidence growing. There was less of a question in it when he said the word now. It sounded more natural, more comfortable.
More…like Claygon was accepting it.
“Yeah, buddy,” Alex said. “I suppose, I’m your father of sorts. Welcome to the world, my brave golem. Welcome to the world.”
As he leaned back, he noticed wizards passing through the courtyard, looking at him as though…well, as though he’d quite lost his mind. He supposed it must make for a strange sight: a grown man suddenly talking to his golem, hugging him and telling the golem to ‘call him father’.
At best he might’ve looked eccentric.
At worst he might’ve looked like he belonged in a dungeon somewhere.
But Alex didn’t care. He’d just survived one of the greatest battles of his life, the love of his life had unlocked a hidden secret within swords that were precious to her, and his golem had transformed in both mind and body.
Looking like he needed to be locked up was nothing in the big scheme of things. His own god had branded a big glowing jester’s face on his shoulder, though it was hidden by a little illusion he’d concocted with his good friend, Thundar. But hidden as it was, he knew it was still there, so a little golem-directed affection didn’t bother him too much in comparison.
Everything was relative in life.
Which was something Claygon would have to learn, depending on how much he already knew.
“Hey,” Alex said, examining him closely, looking for any more signs of physical change. Nothing caught his eye. “Seriously, welcome to the world!” He turned in place, his arms spread to the castle around him. “How does it feel? How’s it feel? You can think! You can talk!”
Silence passed between them and—for an absolutely terrible moment—Alex feared that Claygon’s mind had receded once more. But feelings and snippets of thought sparked at the other end of the link before exploding into a kaleidoscopic storm of emotions.
Half-formed words flickered through the bond, each disappearing as quickly as they materialised.
“Don’t know…” Claygon finally said. “Don’t know…the words.”
“The words?” Alex asked gently.
“Words for…feelings,” the golem said.
“Right…” the young wizard went to cross his arms, but paused. To many folks, crossing one’s arms created a barrier between people and showed feelings of distance, possibly anger. Those were definitely not feelings he wanted to show Claygon, so he kept his hands spread slightly by his sides, showing openness, friendliness. In time, he’d need to teach his golem about these things and lots more so he could properly navigate the world.
“There’s a lot of words for feelings,” he said. “I’m sure this is all…a lot for you, so I won’t start teaching you them now. You’d like to learn about that kinda stuff, wouldn’t you?”
“Yes!” came Claygon’s enthusiastic cry through his mind.
Alex clapped in excitement. “Good! Good! That’s what I like to hear. I’ll teach you so many more things too…but I have a couple of questions for you.” He pointed to his temple. “I hear you using words in my mind. How is it you know those words? If you don’t know, that’s okay.”
“I know…simple words,” the golem said. “Things…you say. Things…you said. Some…I understand.”
“Good, good, then we’ll figure out what you understand together!” Alex grinned. “But for now, we should go tell all our friends the good news! I mean…you can talk! A lot of people have been waiting for this for a long time.”
“Waiting…for me?” His golem asked.
“Yep,” he said. “Theresa, Isolde, Thundar, me, Khalik, Selina, Baelin, Professor Jules, Grimloch…we’ve all been waiting. Not to mention Lagor and some of the other people at Shale’s. There’s more I’m sure…but anyway, you want to meet the others?”
There was a pause.
“Yes.”
“Awesome!” Alex cried, turning to the aeld tree. “Claygon’ll come back later, okay?”
A wave of curiosity and acknowledgement radiated from the tree.
“Great, we’ll be back.” He looked up at his golem. “Ready to meet the world?”
“...yes.”
“Then let’s go!”
Together, the young wizard and the golem pushed through the snow back toward the keep. Far from Alex’s mind was the warning that Gwyllain had given him, though he would bring that up later. What was important was that he was warned.
What he wasn’t warned about was that Drestra the Sage was preparing for him.
Change was not done with Alex Roth.
In some ways, it was only now truly ready to begin.
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A year and half had passed since the Fool had left Alric one late summer’s morning. Nearly seven seasons since he’d fled his homeland to escape the Ravener’s return.
And those seven seasons had brought change, as time tends to.
But, there are many kinds of changes in the universe.
There are small ones: a man sewing a new pair of trousers, a woman buying a jug of milk from a different farmer, or even a king deciding to have boar pate with breakfast instead of duck.
Then there were changes that were great to some, but with short reach: a young couple wedding under a summer moon, the birth of a wolf pup in Coille Forest, the blow thrown by a young man that found the face of a former friend.
And, then there were titanic changes; ones with ripples that reached across land and sea, sweeping up all as they passed: the rise of a tyrant, the wrath of a deity, or the fall of an empire. Some were even greater, reaching across planes and affecting beings who dwelled in different worlds.
And in seven seasons? Those seven seasons had been full of titanic changes, even if they had not yet fully come to pass. Even if those that made those changes were not quite aware of how great they would be yet.
Within the research castle in the land of Greymoor in the Kingdom of Thameland—yet unnamed by its builders—many of those sources of great change had gathered.
There was Chancellor Baelin, head of the University of Generasi, and a symbol of power by any measure. Beside a roaring fire, he shared knowledge with Professor Vernia Jules—head of the university’s alchemy department—and three of Thameland’s Heroes.
The Saint was absent, but the Champion, warrior of Uldar; and the Chosen, leader of the Heroes; were present with the Sage. Along with them was a mysterious member of the fae, known to most as the Guide.
Known to some as the Stalker.
But the Sage paid little attention to chancellors, fae, Heroes or alchemists. Her mind was elsewhere, outside of this room, focused on one who was absent.
The priests of Thameland had never found Uldar’s Fool…Drestra the Sage thought she might have.
And that he was closer than was thought.
Outside of the keep, in the snow-locked courtyard on a winter’s night, the Fool of Uldar was called ‘father’ for the first time.
And so another change had come to his life.
Alexander Roth’s mind reeled under the weight of that word. Somewhere in his visions of his future, he’d expected that there might be someone who would call him father one day.
He loved his girlfriend, Theresa Lu, and planned to marry her if she would have him. As for children, he really hadn’t given that much thought. In his hometown of Alric, having children was just something people did.
They grew up.
They worked.
They married.
And they had children.
The only folk who didn’t take that path were mostly priests and scholars, or the very curmudgeonly like his old boss McHarris. In Generasi, most folk made different choices. Some would dedicate their lives to careers, research, magic, or the arts. Others would simply take up lives of travel and exploration, leaving behind thoughts of building home, hearth and family.
On some deep level, Alex Roth knew he could choose that sort of life if he wanted, but the young man from Alric hadn’t really left those old town traditions and life paths behind.
Therefore, it wouldn’t be at all surprising for there to be at least one small someone in his life someday to call him ‘father.’
But, he’d never— in his wildest imaginings—expected that the someday would be now, and that the someone would be a construct.
Standing before him was his newly evolved golem: Claygon.
He towered roughly teen feet tall and looked even more ferocious than the goddess statues in the Cave of the Traveller that the fire-beams in his hands and head had come from. From his creators’ hands, the sculpted form of an invincible, four-armed warrior with sharpened teeth had been born. He’d been crafted of grey clay with a surface carved to imitate intricate, full plate armour adorned with scenes of warriors and monsters among the filigree.
The three fire-gems sparkled in his palms and forehead, connected to a powerful golem core. In the light of a glowing sapling—a magical aeld tree—they seemed to shine with their own inner fire.
Each seemed a window to the new power within.
For, Claygon had changed too.
In a battle of life and death, power had bathed him from an unknown entity, turning his body from clay to fine marble. He was now stronger, tougher, richer with mana and…he’d also transformed in other ways.
And to Alex, perhaps this way was the greatest.
‘Father.’
At last—after many months—Claygon had communicated, and that remarkable word had been his first. Alex had been granted that wondrous title, not by a toddler of his and Theresa’s blood, or a child adopted by choice, but by a golem crafted by his and his sister’s hands.
Inside, Alex felt a torrent of emotions: love, shock, confusion, delight, awe, fear and more. They raced through him, leaving him paralysed, not knowing quite how to react.
And he didn’t think the Mark could help him.
But, he knew one thing for sure.
This moment would decide the strength and direction of his and Claygon’s bond.
“Father?” Claygon’s voice asked in his mind. It was deep, like the rumbling of the earth, but childlike in a way: uncertain, yearning, loving and unknowing.
And fearful.
Vulnerability emanated through their link, telling Alex that what he said now would either create great change, or do irrevocable damage. He’d heard tales in Shale’s workshop of evolved golems who were met with rejection and fear by their creators. It would always end in rampages, torches, pitchforks and destruction.
He thought of the first time he’d met Drestra: the Sage had been unheard by everyone around her, and had turned agitated and bitter. He thought of Selina, she’d feared rejection from everyone, including her own brother when her fire affinity was discovered.
He even thought of Brutus—brought home from the woods by Theresa as a pup—with his six eyes shining bright with curiosity.
What would have happened had Theresa been a cruel master? Alex’s gaze fell on Claygon’s fire-gems. How long would it have taken for those bright eyes to grow dull?
But the young wizard, the golem maker, had no intention of dulling eyes or fire-gems. He’d treated Claygon with love, not only to avoid rampages and mayhem, but because he loved the silent giant that he and his sister had built.
And so he responded in the only way he could.
“Claygon!” he shouted, his smile growing so wide it hurt his cheeks. “You can talk!”
Alex sprinted across the snow, kicking up little clouds of white powder and leaping through the air, landed on his warm torso, wrapping his arms around him.
“Father?” The gentle voice echoed through Alex’s mind as the young man squeezed his torso tight.
“You talked!” The Thameish wizard’s voice cracked as tears welled up in his eyes and joy surged through his chest. “Oh by the Traveller, you can taaaalk!”
The golem stood frozen, watching his creator—his father—through marble eyes. Feelings rushed through their link; surprise, relief and…a bubbling, rising feeling of happiness.
“Is…this…right?” Claygon asked, his lower arms gently wrapping around Alex, hugging the young wizard. His grip was powerful, and for a—brief, claustrophobic moment—a little stab of fear went through Alex; Claygon’ arms felt like the earth rising up to consume him.
The golem hesitated.
“It’s okay,” Alex said gently, looking up at Claygon’s face. “It’s okay. You can probably feel my feelings through our link, can’t you? Just like I can feel yours.”
He spoke slowly and with the most soothing tones in his voice; he couldn’t imagine what it must have been like for Claygon, suddenly coming to full sapience. If it were him, he’d feel scared and confused.
There would be things that needed explaining.
And he would need reassuring.
“It’s okay, you can hug me. I know you won’t hurt me,” he said. “Sometimes people get feelings and little emotions that pass quickly. It’s natural, but they don’t define us. It’s our decisions that do. And I’m deciding I want you to hug me, if you want to.”
The golem paused, and Alex could feel a torrent of emotions rushing through their link.
And then.
Trepidation came through along with nervous, flickering hope.
The arms slowly wrapped around Alex, hugging him gently. One of the massive stone hands slowly patted the young wizard’s back. Alex smiled, unleashing all of his giddiness, letting it race through his bond with his golem. Letting him know that his affection was desired, trusted and reciprocated.
Slowly, the trepidation began to vanish, pushed aside by that growing hope and a child-like, simple feeling of pure joy.
“Father,” the voice said, its confidence growing. There was less of a question in it when he said the word now. It sounded more natural, more comfortable.
More…like Claygon was accepting it.
“Yeah, buddy,” Alex said. “I suppose, I’m your father of sorts. Welcome to the world, my brave golem. Welcome to the world.”
As he leaned back, he noticed wizards passing through the courtyard, looking at him as though…well, as though he’d quite lost his mind. He supposed it must make for a strange sight: a grown man suddenly talking to his golem, hugging him and telling the golem to ‘call him father’.
At best he might’ve looked eccentric.
At worst he might’ve looked like he belonged in a dungeon somewhere.
But Alex didn’t care. He’d just survived one of the greatest battles of his life, the love of his life had unlocked a hidden secret within swords that were precious to her, and his golem had transformed in both mind and body.
Looking like he needed to be locked up was nothing in the big scheme of things. His own god had branded a big glowing jester’s face on his shoulder, though it was hidden by a little illusion he’d concocted with his good friend, Thundar. But hidden as it was, he knew it was still there, so a little golem-directed affection didn’t bother him too much in comparison.
Everything was relative in life.
Which was something Claygon would have to learn, depending on how much he already knew.
“Hey,” Alex said, examining him closely, looking for any more signs of physical change. Nothing caught his eye. “Seriously, welcome to the world!” He turned in place, his arms spread to the castle around him. “How does it feel? How’s it feel? You can think! You can talk!”
Silence passed between them and—for an absolutely terrible moment—Alex feared that Claygon’s mind had receded once more. But feelings and snippets of thought sparked at the other end of the link before exploding into a kaleidoscopic storm of emotions.
Half-formed words flickered through the bond, each disappearing as quickly as they materialised.
“Don’t know…” Claygon finally said. “Don’t know…the words.”
“The words?” Alex asked gently.
“Words for…feelings,” the golem said.
“Right…” the young wizard went to cross his arms, but paused. To many folks, crossing one’s arms created a barrier between people and showed feelings of distance, possibly anger. Those were definitely not feelings he wanted to show Claygon, so he kept his hands spread slightly by his sides, showing openness, friendliness. In time, he’d need to teach his golem about these things and lots more so he could properly navigate the world.
“There’s a lot of words for feelings,” he said. “I’m sure this is all…a lot for you, so I won’t start teaching you them now. You’d like to learn about that kinda stuff, wouldn’t you?”
“Yes!” came Claygon’s enthusiastic cry through his mind.
Alex clapped in excitement. “Good! Good! That’s what I like to hear. I’ll teach you so many more things too…but I have a couple of questions for you.” He pointed to his temple. “I hear you using words in my mind. How is it you know those words? If you don’t know, that’s okay.”
“I know…simple words,” the golem said. “Things…you say. Things…you said. Some…I understand.”
“Good, good, then we’ll figure out what you understand together!” Alex grinned. “But for now, we should go tell all our friends the good news! I mean…you can talk! A lot of people have been waiting for this for a long time.”
“Waiting…for me?” His golem asked.
“Yep,” he said. “Theresa, Isolde, Thundar, me, Khalik, Selina, Baelin, Professor Jules, Grimloch…we’ve all been waiting. Not to mention Lagor and some of the other people at Shale’s. There’s more I’m sure…but anyway, you want to meet the others?”
There was a pause.
“Yes.”
“Awesome!” Alex cried, turning to the aeld tree. “Claygon’ll come back later, okay?”
A wave of curiosity and acknowledgement radiated from the tree.
“Great, we’ll be back.” He looked up at his golem. “Ready to meet the world?”
“...yes.”
“Then let’s go!”
Together, the young wizard and the golem pushed through the snow back toward the keep. Far from Alex’s mind was the warning that Gwyllain had given him, though he would bring that up later. What was important was that he was warned.
What he wasn’t warned about was that Drestra the Sage was preparing for him.
Change was not done with Alex Roth.
In some ways, it was only now truly ready to begin.
A year and half had passed since the Fool had left Alric one late summer's morning. Nearly seven seasons since he'd fled his homeland to escape the Ravener's return.And those seven seasons had brought change, as time tends to.But, there are many kinds of changes in the universe.There are small ones: a man sewing a new pair of trousers, a woman buying a jug of milk from a different farmer, or even a king deciding to have boar pate with breakfast instead of duck.Then there were changes that were great to some, but with short reach: a young couple wedding under a summer moon, the birth of a wolf pup in Coille Forest, the blow thrown by a young man that found the face of a former friend.And, then there were titanic changes; ones with ripples that reached across land and sea, sweeping up all as they passed: the rise of a tyrant, the wrath of a deity, or the fall of an empire. Some were even greater, reaching across planes and affecting beings who dwelled in different worlds.And in seven seasons? Those seven seasons had been full of titanic changes, even if they had not yet fully come to pass. Even if those that made those changes were not quite aware of how great they would be yet.Within the research castle in the land of Greymoor in the Kingdom of Thamelandyet unnamed by its buildersmany of those sources of great change had gathered.There was Chancellor Baelin, head of the University of Generasi, and a symbol of power by any measure. Beside a roaring fire, he shared knowledge with Professor Vernia Juleshead of the university's alchemy departmentand three of Thameland's Heroes.The Saint was absent, but the Champion, warrior of Uldar; and the Chosen, leader of the Heroes; were present with the Sage. Along with them was a mysterious member of the fae, known to most as the Guide.Known to some as the Stalker.But the Sage paid little attention to chancellors, fae, Heroes or alchemists. Her mind was elsewhere, outside of this room, focused on one who was absent.The priests of Thameland had never found Uldar's FoolDrestra the Sage thought she might have.And that he was closer than was thought.Outside of the keep, in the snow-locked courtyard on a winter's night, the Fool of Uldar was called father' for the first time.And so another change had come to his life.Alexander Roth's mind reeled under the weight of that word. Somewhere in his visions of his future, he'd expected that there might be someone who would call him father one day.He loved his girlfriend, Theresa Lu, and planned to marry her if she would have him. As for children, he really hadn't given that much thought. In his hometown of Alric, having children was just something people did.They grew up.They worked.They married.And they had children.The only folk who didn't take that path were mostly priests and scholars, or the very curmudgeonly like his old boss McHarris. In Generasi, most folk made different choices. Some would dedicate their lives to careers, research, magic, or the arts. Others would simply take up lives of travel and exploration, leaving behind thoughts of building home, hearth and family.On some deep level, Alex Roth knew he could choose that sort of life if he wanted, but the young man from Alric hadn't really left those old town traditions and life paths behind.Therefore, it wouldn't be at all surprising for there to be at least one small someone in his life someday to call him father.'But, he'd never in his wildest imaginingsexpected that the someday would be now, and that the someone would be a construct.Standing before him was his newly evolved golem: Claygon.He towered roughly teen feet tall and looked even more ferocious than the goddess statues in the Cave of the Traveller that the fire-beams in his hands and head had come from. From his creators' hands, the sculpted form of an invincible, four-armed warrior with sharpened teeth had been born. He'd been crafted of grey clay with a surface carved to imitate intricate, full plate armour adorned with scenes of warriors and monsters among the filigree.The three fire-gems sparkled in his palms and forehead, connected to a powerful golem core. In the light of a glowing saplinga magical aeld treethey seemed to shine with their own inner fire.Each seemed a window to the new power within.For, Claygon had changed too.In a battle of life and death, power had bathed him from an unknown entity, turning his body from clay to fine marble. He was now stronger, tougher, richer with mana andhe'd also transformed in other ways.And to Alex, perhaps this way was the greatest.Father.'At lastafter many monthsClaygon had communicated, and that remarkable word had been his first. Alex had been granted that wondrous title, not by a toddler of his and Theresa's blood, or a child adopted by choice, but by a golem crafted by his and his sister's hands.Inside, Alex felt a torrent of emotions: love, shock, confusion, delight, awe, fear and more. They raced through him, leaving him paralysed, not knowing quite how to react.And he didn't think the Mark could help him.But, he knew one thing for sure.This moment would decide the strength and direction of his and Claygon's bond.Father? Claygon's voice asked in his mind. It was deep, like the rumbling of the earth, but childlike in a way: uncertain, yearning, loving and unknowing.And fearful.Vulnerability emanated through their link, telling Alex that what he said now would either create great change, or do irrevocable damage. He'd heard tales in Shale's workshop of evolved golems who were met with rejection and fear by their creators. It would always end in rampages, torches, pitchforks and destruction.He thought of the first time he'd met Drestra: the Sage had been unheard by everyone around her, and had turned agitated and bitter. He thought of Selina, she'd feared rejection from everyone, including her own brother when her fire affinity was discovered.He even thought of Brutusbrought home from the woods by Theresa as a pupwith his six eyes shining bright with curiosity.What would have happened had Theresa been a cruel master? Alex's gaze fell on Claygon's fire-gems. How long would it have taken for those bright eyes to grow dull?But the young wizard, the golem maker, had no intention of dulling eyes or fire-gems. He'd treated Claygon with love, not only to avoid rampages and mayhem, but because he loved the silent giant that he and his sister had built.And so he responded in the only way he could.Claygon! he shouted, his smile growing so wide it hurt his cheeks. You can talk!Alex sprinted across the snow, kicking up little clouds of white powder and leaping through the air, landed on his warm torso, wrapping his arms around him.Father? The gentle voice echoed through Alex's mind as the young man squeezed his torso tight.You talked! The Thameish wizard's voice cracked as tears welled up in his eyes and joy surged through his chest. Oh by the Traveller, you can taaaalk!The golem stood frozen, watching his creatorhis fatherthrough marble eyes. Feelings rushed through their link; surprise, relief anda bubbling, rising feeling of happiness.Isthisright? Claygon asked, his lower arms gently wrapping around Alex, hugging the young wizard. His grip was powerful, and for abrief, claustrophobic momenta little stab of fear went through Alex; Claygon' arms felt like the earth rising up to consume him.The golem hesitated.It's okay, Alex said gently, looking up at Claygon's face. It's okay. You can probably feel my feelings through our link, can't you? Just like I can feel yours.He spoke slowly and with the most soothing tones in his voice; he couldn't imagine what it must have been like for Claygon, suddenly coming to full sapience. If it were him, he'd feel scared and confused.There would be things that needed explaining.And he would need reassuring.It's okay, you can hug me. I know you won't hurt me, he said. Sometimes people get feelings and little emotions that pass quickly. It's natural, but they don't define us. It's our decisions that do. And I'm deciding I want you to hug me, if you want to.The golem paused, and Alex could feel a torrent of emotions rushing through their link.And then.Trepidation came through along with nervous, flickering hope.The arms slowly wrapped around Alex, hugging him gently. One of the massive stone hands slowly patted the young wizard's back. Alex smiled, unleashing all of his giddiness, letting it race through his bond with his golem. Letting him know that his affection was desired, trusted and reciprocated.Slowly, the trepidation began to vanish, pushed aside by that growing hope and a child-like, simple feeling of pure joy.Father, the voice said, its confidence growing. There was less of a question in it when he said the word now. It sounded more natural, more comfortable.Morelike Claygon was accepting it.Yeah, buddy, Alex said. I suppose, I'm your father of sorts. Welcome to the world, my brave golem. Welcome to the world.As he leaned back, he noticed wizards passing through the courtyard, looking at him as thoughwell, as though he'd quite lost his mind. He supposed it must make for a strange sight: a grown man suddenly talking to his golem, hugging him and telling the golem to call him father'.At best he might've looked eccentric.At worst he might've looked like he belonged in a dungeon somewhere.But Alex didn't care. He'd just survived one of the greatest battles of his life, the love of his life had unlocked a hidden secret within swords that were precious to her, and his golem had transformed in both mind and body.Looking like he needed to be locked up was nothing in the big scheme of things. His own god had branded a big glowing jester's face on his shoulder, though it was hidden by a little illusion he'd concocted with his good friend, Thundar. But hidden as it was, he knew it was still there, so a little golem-directed affection didn't bother him too much in comparison.Everything was relative in life.Which was something Claygon would have to learn, depending on how much he already knew.Hey, Alex said, examining him closely, looking for any more signs of physical change. Nothing caught his eye. Seriously, welcome to the world! He turned in place, his arms spread to the castle around him. How does it feel? How's it feel? You can think! You can talk!Silence passed between them andfor an absolutely terrible momentAlex feared that Claygon's mind had receded once more. But feelings and snippets of thought sparked at the other end of the link before exploding into a kaleidoscopic storm of emotions.Half-formed words flickered through the bond, each disappearing as quickly as they materialised.Don't know Claygon finally said. Don't knowthe words.The words? Alex asked gently.Words forfeelings, the golem said.Right the young wizard went to cross his arms, but paused. To many folks, crossing one's arms created a barrier between people and showed feelings of distance, possibly anger. Those were definitely not feelings he wanted to show Claygon, so he kept his hands spread slightly by his sides, showing openness, friendliness. In time, he'd need to teach his golem about these things and lots more so he could properly navigate the world.There's a lot of words for feelings, he said. I'm sure this is alla lot for you, so I won't start teaching you them now. You'd like to learn about that kinda stuff, wouldn't you?Yes! came Claygon's enthusiastic cry through his mind.Alex clapped in excitement. Good! Good! That's what I like to hear. I'll teach you so many more things toobut I have a couple of questions for you. He pointed to his temple. I hear you using words in my mind. How is it you know those words? If you don't know, that's okay.I knowsimple words, the golem said. Thingsyou say. Thingsyou said. SomeI understand.Good, good, then we'll figure out what you understand together! Alex grinned. But for now, we should go tell all our friends the good news! I meanyou can talk! A lot of people have been waiting for this for a long time.Waitingfor me? His golem asked.Yep, he said. Theresa, Isolde, Thundar, me, Khalik, Selina, Baelin, Professor Jules, Grimlochwe've all been waiting. Not to mention Lagor and some of the other people at Shale's. There's more I'm surebut anyway, you want to meet the others?There was a pause.Yes.Awesome! Alex cried, turning to the aeld tree. Claygon'll come back later, okay?A wave of curiosity and acknowledgement radiated from the tree.Great, we'll be back. He looked up at his golem. Ready to meet the world?...yes.Then let's go!Together, the young wizard and the golem pushed through the snow back toward the keep. Far from Alex's mind was the warning that Gwyllain had given him, though he would bring that up later. What was important was that he was warned.What he wasn't warned about was that Drestra the Sage was preparing for him.Change was not done with Alex Roth.In some ways, it was only now truly ready to begin.
