The Silver Golem

Tenderly Adrian organized the tomes, grimoires, and scrolls in the shelves lining the walls. The library was of modest size, covering all the walls of the main room on the first floor of the household. It even warranted a large, stained reading desk with several tattered padded chairs to enjoy it with. Most of the books lay scattered about, many had bent pages, and some were smudged with dust and dirt. Any proper librarian would have broken down in apoplexy at the sight of such a mess. Yet to Adrian they represented his hope for the future.

Unfortunately, they didn’t belong to him, but to Cogmaster Gregory. A skilled practitioner of the mechanical sorcery known as Artificery, the Cogmaster had a thoroughly disagreeable nature and was a staunch disciplinarian. As his apprentice, Adrian was expected to follow each and every one of his directions quickly and without question. His very first command had been for Adrian to always address him as either Cogmaster or Cogmaster Gregory. Anything else would result in a beating. So explicit had been the command that, even when alone, Adrian’s idle thoughts continued to think of the man so. Prior to entering into the Cogmaster’s care he’d been but one step above a beggar. Anything was better than returning to the street.

Yet, even following all the Cogmaster’s commands to the letter, Adrian had but marginal success in the minor spells of artificery he’d been taught. As was tradition, his first few projects had been simple clocks. The gears and mechanical components he used fit together well enough, but when he tried to animate them they malfunctioned more often than not. Even the best of small clocks lasted less than a week. The glyphs of animation were just too difficult for him to engrave with any consistency on each and every piece. If they weren’t perfect on even one part, the whole clock wouldn’t work. While he’d had greater success in the theoretical aspects of his studies, the Cogmaster had dismissed his efforts, and since the failure of his last clock he’d been more a servant than an apprentice.

While cleaning, each book that he shifted was accompanied by a slight hesitation, for he would much rather be reading than cleaning and putting them away, but doing so would go against the directions the Cogmaster had given him. He learned early on in his apprenticeship that being caught shirking his chores would lead to swift punishments. The worst of them were the tasks away from the wonderful books. At the thought of chastisement, Adrian couldn’t suppress a slight shudder.

As Adrian continued to straighten out the disheveled library, a frown came to his face at the memories of the examination to judge whether or not he was fit to become an Artificer. Ephemeral things, about all he knew for sure was that he had entered the Clock-Tower in the center of the city, walked through a bewilderingly vast array of books, and passed beyond several vaguely man-shaped constructions that he now knew to be the golems he had heard about. After that there was a sense of elation when he’d been approved admission to the guild, followed by even more brief images of those golems and books as he had been escorted out. The only proof that he hadn’t imagined the whole thing was the stylized cog that had been magically tattooed on his chest in the induction ceremony, though even that had faded away in the minutes after he left the Clock-Tower.

Those memories had sustained him as he had gone about the difficult process of finding a Cogmaster somewhere in the city who would be willing to take him on as an apprentice. Over two-dozen of these men resided in the city, and near that many had turned him away. The reasons behind his rejection generally ranged between Adrian being too old and too poor, though one strange fellow had even implied he was too girlish in appearance to become an apprentice. While Adrian admitted he didn’t have the typical muscle mass of those brawny youths who most often sought to pursue Artificery, he still felt that a desire to learn was more important than physical size.

In the end his efforts had been paid in full, however, when the last Cogmaster he’d visited had derisively directed him to the abode of a foreign Cogmaster who had recently moved into the city.

Coming at last to a shabby looking home caught almost squarely between the rich Merchant district and the poorest of Warburg’s slums, Adrian had steeled himself for another rejection before walking up the steps to the worn door. When Cogmaster Gregory greeted him, Adrian had been surprised at his tattered appearance. In the hard negotiations that followed Adrian had finally secured his apprenticeship, and most importantly an advance on his pay to the sum of one gold crown, on the condition that he finish up the unpacking that the Cogmaster so clearly detested. The advance pay had seemed to amuse more than upset the Cogmaster, and he had agreed to it, but on one condition: Adrian would be his until he said his apprenticeship was completed.

Adrian had been living in the house doing menial work for Cogmaster Gregory ever since. In the first days, the Cogmaster had assessed Adrian as having very modest magical potential, and simply adequate intelligence. Despite the clear distaste with which he had delivered these results, Adrian had remained hopeful that it would take only a few years to work his way out of the apprenticeship.

Since that day a year ago, however, the Cogmaster had increasingly directed him to mundane tasks, such as cooking and cleaning, rather than the process of teaching him the art of animation that was every true Artificer’s stock and trade. At this point Adrian had far greater experience with pots and pans, brooms and washcloths than with the tools and metals necessary to Artificery. Presently, what little he learned was limited to theory picked up from the books he cleaned while the Cogmaster was otherwise occupied. The only sign that he even had potential these days were the short feelings of tingling sparked in Adrian when his master was casting his spells of animation down in his basement workshop.

Having finished the last of the dusting, Adrian discarded his pointless musings. Since his Master had known he would be immersed in a delicate work of animation for the rest of the day, he had directed his apprentice to clean the entire library, obviously thinking that it would be enough of a monumental task to ensure Adrian wouldn’t have idle hands until late in the evening. Finishing sooner than the Cogmaster had expected, Adrian was left with in a quandary: should he turn in early or risk punishment to peruse the books?

Setting the dust cloth aside, Adrian moved silently to the door that led to the Cogmaster’s workshop where he conducted all his experiments. Though Adrian had never been allowed down into the workshop, he’d learned to judge how long it would be before he could expect his master to complete his work for the day by paying attention to the sounds emanating from behind the door.

Pressing his ear gently against the smooth wood, he listened for the sounds that would indicate the Cogmaster was still immersed in his work. Closing his eyes to concentrate, Adrian soon made out a rhythmic metallic tapping. From what he’d been able to pick up through his illicit readings, that sound indicated the engraving of the glyphs that would allow a golem to function. He had about an hour then.

Hurrying back to the library, Adrian couldn’t conceal the first real grin of the day. Eagerly he reached for the first book that caught his eye. It was one of the books that the Cogmaster had recently been reading. Across the cover was a broad golem of silver in the shape of a man.

Sparing the illustration but a quick glance, Adrian eagerly pulled back the cover to get at the rich words contained within. Inside proved to be a variety of diagrams of silver golems, several complete in shape, while others were simply the separate components necessary to a finished golem.

A strange, vaporous form surrounded one of the completed golems, and next to it was a hastily scrawled message in Cogmaster Gregory’s writing. Brow furrowed in puzzlement, Adrian considered the words. Reading them aloud under his breath sent a tingling through his body, and with some excitement he realized it must be a spell of some sort. Wondering what it could be, he practically leapt from the chair he’d been sitting in to get down an Artificer dictionary off a nearby shelf. If was truly a spell, some of the words would certainly be inside.

Returning to his seat, he set the dictionary side-by-side with the manual, which Adrian knew to be about golem creation. Sparing a glance at the small clock on the table, he realized his hour was nearly up.

Frantically flipping through the dictionary, he struggled to match the words to terms of Artificery. Seconds turned into minutes without any progress, and his speed only increased as he failed to match a single word. Arriving at the end of the dictionary, without finding a match, Adrian’s brow again furrowed in puzzlement. Not one match, but he had been certain that reading the words have caused him to feel a tingle of magic. Though he seldom felt that tingle, due to the lack of training from Cogmaster Gregory, he could hardly be expected to forget that feeling.

Mentally shrugging to himself, he set the manual back on its proper shelf. As he did so, however, another book caught his eye. Delicately grasping the binding, Adrian opened the bizarre grimoire that his Master had recently added to his private library. It had no title, nor author, and the leather its cover had been fashioned in was of a kind Adrian had no experience with. The squiggling words across the pages in red ink resisted all attempts to be deciphered.

Adrian stopped turning the pages, closed it and set it back on the shelf with a shudder. Even the quick glances he’d given the writing in the book made his hair stand on end and sent chills down his spine. Taking his hand off the binding caused the chills to fade, but before he could turn away his eyes landed on a single small word etched near the bottom, which he must have missed when he first picked it up.

Squinting, he could almost make it out before he flinched, startled when the door to the workshop slammed closed behind him. With a guilty look on his face, Adrian spun around to face his master.

The Cogmaster cut an ominous figure standing beside the closed door to his workshop. Dark hair framed equally dark eyes so black they appeared to be perpetually in shadow, an impression reinforced by the scowl that seemed to continually shape his face. His sallow skin, largely a result of seldom leaving the house, and even then only for a short time, accentuated his fury now.

Even the frumpy, dirtied robes that he wore did little to detract from his menacing aura. He knew Adrian had disobeyed his command not to read the books within the library. Swallowing in apprehension, Adrian braced himself for the loud castigation that he was sure was about to ensue.

Amazingly, the Cogmaster took several deep breaths and appeared to put his anger aside. With a slight smile, which was frankly far scarier than the look of fury that had just been adorning his face, he slowly walked over to his apprentice.

“Perhaps it is good that your curiosity overcame your adherence to my instructions.” Adrian mentally cursed himself when he saw that the Cogmaster had glanced directly at the two books he’d recently been skimming through. “I’ve decided that it far past time for you to continue on the path towards becoming an Artificer. I’ve nearly completed my latest golem and I think it would do you good to see the greatest result of our craft. Perhaps then we might be able to find a way to overcome your deficiencies to this point.” Without another word, the Cogmaster motioned for Adrian to follow him before heading back down into the workshop.

Adrian stood in abject disbelief for several seconds. Was this really happening? Had the Cogmaster finally decided to continue his apprenticeship? Shaking his head, and still half afraid this was all but a cruel joke, Adrian rushed to the stairwell that went down to the workshop.

As Adrian entered into the workshop on the heels of his master, he had a hard time concealing his excitement. He would finally get to see a real golem in the process of being made! Eyes darting around, he struggled to take it all in.

Much like the perpetually disorganized library, the Cogmaster’s workshop was a cluttered mess. A larger room than he’d thought it would be, it nonetheless seemed to be full to bursting with the tools and materials needed to accomplish any Artificers project. All manner of components, big and small, were scattered here and there about the room. Even the small desk and metal chairs tucked away in the corner of the room were covered in tools of different shapes and sizes. Though the workshop was cold, he could barely feel the chill. Adrian’s eyes grew wide when he saw one of the fireless forges that allowed metal to be manipulated through the Artificer’s use of animation magic, as well as the intricate gravers required to engrave the animating glyphs onto golems.

Yet all that paled into insignificance next to the figure directly opposite the stairway.

Secured by glyphed binding chains to the far wall, Adrian couldn’t help catching his breath at such an awe-inspiring sight. Six empty spaces lined the wall, but in the seventh sat a golem of the purest silver, its proportions shaped to suggest an elite warrior, strong and fearsome, yet the face was both noble and familiar.

So enraptured by the golem was Adrian, that he didn’t notice the Cogmaster’s predatory grin. Taking pains to control his expression, Cogmaster Gregory adopted a more slight, less threatening smile and began talking about the masterpiece that he had labored on for so many months unbeknownst to his apprentice.

“Those unfamiliar with silver animated by an Artificer would assume the metallic golem to be highly susceptible to destruction. In fact the reality is quite the opposite,” his master began. “Since silver is the easiest metal for an Artificer to work with, a competent Cogmaster with enough of the metal could create a golem with a form stronger than the finest steel.”

Walking up to the silver golem, Cogmaster Gregory tapped his creations shoulder, “Yet all but the most accomplished Cogmasters are discouraged from making golems of silver, as animation magic hardens the metal to the point that it can never be manipulated with magic again.” He murmured a few words to himself then rapped his knuckles hard on the breastplate of the golem, and it opened to reveal the intricate gears and mechanisms that allowed it to mimic the movements of a man. “As you can well guess, forming a single component wrong could scrap the whole golem,” he said before closing the golem’s chest once more.

He gestured to the faceplate, as well as the swords hanging at the golem’s side, “The face is sculpted in mimicry of a great foreign hero from this city’s past, Harii Swoerdboren, who drove off barbaric invaders from the far north long ago,” he beckoned his apprentice forward to take a closer look.

Gazing upon the face, Adrian was struck anew by the perfection with which it had been crafted. The face, had it belonged to a flesh and blood man, would have been more than imposing. A large square jaw and nose dominated it, and the soulless, blackened eyes of crystal gave the impression the golem was gazing through him, even though it hadn’t been activated yet. Staring hard, he could just make out the winding script of the animation glyphs that covered every inch of the golem. It was truly a work of art. Though he still stood by his opinions that the Cogmaster was an arrogant and stern, even abusive man, Adrian admitted to himself that he also had a rare talent in Artificery.

He turned to face the Cogmaster, “Why are the swords needed?”

“Excellent question.” He pulled the swords from their sheaths with a smile. “Apart from improving the golems combat capacity, they are also necessary for the completion of the last part of the animation ritual. Here let me show you,” he handed Adrian one of the swords. “Look closely at the hilt.”

Taking the blade in both hands, Adrian was startled by how heavy it was. The hilt was on the whole plain and unadorned but for the large sapphire on the pommel. Wait. There was another glyph just under the crosspiece. Looking closer sent a shock rippling through him.

It was the same writing from the strange book upstairs that had wracked his body with chills. Raising his eyes, Adrian started to ask his master what it meant.

The Cogmaster thrust the sword’s twin into his gut.

“Congratulations Adrian, your apprenticeship is finally completed.”

Giving voice to the bright flash of agony that roared through him, the sword Adrian was holding slipped from suddenly nerveless fingers. Gregory deftly snatched it before it hit the floor, flipped it once, then, as smoothly as if he was returning the blade to its scabbard, rammed it home next to its brother. Another flash of fresh agony surged through Adrian, though it felt more like an echo of thunder to the first blast of lightning. Pained shout reduced to whimpers by the second thrust, Adrian fell back against the silver golem before sliding to the floor. He heard Gregory begin to speak again, but this time his voice sounded strange, as if it was far away. Was he dying?

“You didn’t ask me why I chose to base it on Harii Swoerdboren,” the Cogmaster shook his head in mock sadness, then grinned, “Well I’ll tell you: I thought it would be wonderfully ironic.” Leaving his former apprentice to bleed out on the floor, he moved around collecting the tools he’d need for the final act of animation. To the Council in the Clock-Tower what he was about to do was forbidden, but Gregory didn’t care. It was his original magic after all.

By now the pain had become a familiar companion to Adrian. Forcing his mind to concentrate, he struggled to think of a way to save himself. Running over every spell that he’d picked up in his illicit readings, he quickly gave up the search as hopeless. Even if he were certain he could cast the spells, their only true usefulness was in the art of animating mechanical things. Wait. Hadn’t there been a spell he’d just read, one that might not deal with the animation of golems? Yes there had…how did it go?

Struggling against the fog that had begun to swirl through his mind, he put himself back in his memory to see the page in the manual of golems. Adrian falteringly murmured his way through the spell, the world around him growing progressively colder and darker, until only the words themselves remained. As all sensation disappeared, he mouthed the last word, felt a wrenching force that went down to the depths of his soul, and then all was darkness.

Eventually his eyes detected light again, though it took some time for him to make out little more than vague shapes. A blur resolved itself into the stairwell, not directly across from him. He was in his master’s workshop then. Thinking about his master brought a confusing haze of memories to mind, though one drowned out all the others: his master had stabbed him. Adrian had been sure those wounds had been grievous, but if that was the case why was he still in the Cogmaster’s lab? Hands moved to his belly, fingers seeking the gaping rents that had been torn in his flesh. His questing touch brought forth the tinkling clink of metal touching metal. Looking down brought his eyes to the silver golem’s breastplate.

No. It was his breastplate. He was the golem.

Now he realized what sort of spell he had murmured in those dim seconds before death: a soul-transfer spell. Though little more than a novice, Adrian well knew that it was forbidden magic under the laws set out by the Artificers Council. Those who practiced such magic were sentenced to death whenever they were found in the Kingdom of Craghold, of which Warburg was but a single ducal seat. Even possessing the knowledge in written form warranted the strictest of censure.

Rubbing his silver chest, Adrian realized he could feel through the metal, and though it was harder under his touch than flesh it still conveyed the same sensation, albeit somewhat muted. Looking down into his palms showed them to have none of the skin creases his body had. The reflection of the face he saw in his smooth hands remained that of Harii Swoerdboren, though now it conveyed expression, yet there was one major difference. The black crystalline eyes that had previously dominated the golems solemn face seemed now to glow with an inner blue light, the color of his eyes before the change.

That is when he noticed his body lying on the floor in a pool of blood, two gaping holes rent in his corpse. Without taking his eyes off it, Adrian felt down at his sides. His hands came into contact with the hilts of the swords that had pierced his chest.

The horror of his situation finally sank in. His open hands began to shake. What had his master done to him?

No, the Cogmaster had said his apprenticeship was completed. Gregory was his ex-master now, and was at the very least a rogue Cogmaster using forbidden knowledge that had seen Adrian sacrificed in whatever that ritual had been. Given the short breadth of time he’d lived in Warburg, he might even be one of those heretical mages from the north who meddled with the dead. In fact, that seemed the best explanation for his current situation.

Trying to move his legs brought him up short. Straining for several minutes without moving an inch, Adrian realized the glyphed chains that held him to the wall would remain engaged until Gregory released them. Settling in to wait for the man’s eventual return, Adrian considered his options.

Having spent much of his life in one of the poorest districts of Warburg, Adrian was no stranger to fights to the death. Though he’d hidden the incident from his family, Adrian had actually been in one before.

It happened several years ago. Thieves sometimes preyed upon sailors fresh in to port from a trading voyage, as they tended to have a lower guard after so long at sea. One such most likely had pegged Adrian as a cabin boy when he’d been walking past the docking district on his way home. The man had bundled Adrian into a dirty, unoccupied alley and, before he knew it, been pressed up against a wall. Realizing what was going to happen, Adrian had struggled against the larger man to no avail, but luck had been with him that night. When the thief threw him to the ground in an effort to stun him, Adrian had landed next to a jagged piece of discarded iron. Snatching the metal up in his hand, he’d scrambled backwards out of the reach of the man’s grasping hands. Before the man could grab him Adrian’s hand had darted out, as swift and as hard as he could make it move, sinking the makeshift knife deep into the thief’s arm. With a gasp, the man had fallen back against the wall clutching it in pain, giving Adrian the chance to make his escape.

Taking into account his current situation, where his soul had taken up residence in a magic resistant golem, constructed and armed specifically for war, Adrian admitted to himself that at least he was better prepared for this fight, far more so than he had been that night several years ago. It would all depend on when Gregory released the magical bindings upon his return, and whether or not he had his guard up around his newest creation. The shaking in his hands stopped. Feeling somewhat better about his situation, Adrian settled into wait until Gregory returned.

Though there was no Artificer’s clock in the workshop, it couldn’t have been more than half an hour before Gregory returned to the basement, a blue dragonet hovering over his shoulder and a cloaked form in his arms. The familiar was one thing Adrian had failed to take into account. While small, the dragonet was a majestic creature if one didn’t look too closely at him. With scales of deepest sapphire, from a distance he looked otherworldly flitting through the air. Though he didn’t have a name, as his master had never given him one, Adrian had taken to calling the dragonet Cobalt. The Artificers Council strictly proscribed living familiars, though small golems were allowed. Gregory must have smuggled the dragonet in, as Cobalt had been living with him in the house for some time now.

Sadly, if one were to look closer they would see just how haggard the dragonet was. There were a number of holes in his wings, and scars tracked here and there over his scales. Adrian firmly repressed a shudder at the sight. No matter how bad his experiences as Gregory’s apprentice had been, this night excluded, Cobalt’s had been far worse. The dragonet flapped to an unadorned perch hanging from the ceiling.

Staring into the now blue eyes of his golem, Gregory was almost hysterical in congratulating himself for his success. “I’ve done it! They said I couldn’t bind the intelligence of a person into a golem, but I have done it!” He eyes drank in the silver golem as he beamed at it.

Intelligence? So he didn’t know that Adrian’s soul had taken residence in the golem as well. So long as he continued to believe that, chances were good that Adrian would be released from his bindings and find a way to escape.

Gregory came to a halt in front of Adrian, just out of the range of movement afforded him by his bindings. Regaining some of his composure, he negligently dropped the sack he’d be carrying. Judging by the muffled whimper, Adrian thought it might be a person. Another sacrifice?

“Golem, you will answer my questions and, if I find your responses satisfactory, I will release your restraints and inform you as to your purpose. Nod if you understand.”

Adrian gave a slight nod immediately. He would need to shape his responses to reassure Gregory to the point he felt he had control over him, otherwise he’d never deactivate the bindings.

“Who were you?”

Trying to make his voice sound as unemotionally golem-like as possible, he responded, “Your apprentice, Adrian.”

Immediately Gregory’s jubilation turned into a frustrated fury. “No!” he shouted, causing fresh whimpers to come from the squirming form on the floor, “Never speak that name again. You are a golem, a soulless machine. Before my efforts you were simple pieces of unmoving metal, and that is to what you will return if you violate my commands.”

“Yes, Master,” said Adrian as he strove hard to repress a shudder. Having for all purposes died once already, he was in no hurry to repeat the experience.

Though he was still frowning, Adrian’s response seemed to have placated the man somewhat, for his eyes were no longer furious. “Very well. What are you now?” Gregory’s face was intent, eyes locked on the golem’s faceplate as if searching for any suspicious hesitation in Adrian’s response.

“Your servant.”

After a pause that stretched several seconds, Gregory nodded. He reached down and tugged the canvas away to reveal a cowering girl. Blinking hard in the light of the lab, the girl’s eyes darted around the room. Catching sight of her brother’s bloody corpse, Calisa began to weep through the ropes that held her.

“Very good. Your first task is to kill this mewling girl.” Gregory grinned down at Calisa in sinister glee. “We can’t have the watch learning of my apprentice’s disappearance.” So saying he made a beckoning gesture at the bindings that held Adrian. The force holding him to the wall abruptly dissipated.

Despite his new freedom of movement, the surprising appearance of Calisa in the workshop had shocked him into fresh immobility. The sadistic command to kill her to cover up his death, however, sent waves of anger coursing through him. How dare this evil man lay a finger on his sister!

“NO!” Adrian shouted, his emotionless tone cast aside. Though he had never held more than a simple knife in his life, metallic fingers eagerly clanked against the hilts of the swords sheathed at his side. In a blur he whipped them free and charged at Gregory.

Surprised by the golem’s refusal, and even more by the violent way it charged him, Gregory hurried backward as he frantically gestured at his attacker. From his hands shot forth a number of black vaporous spheres, which streaked at Adrian as he advanced. Where they made contact his breastplate they caused spikes of pain, yet Adrian continued forward, buoyed by the look of dismay on Gregory’s face. The enchanted silver must be deadening the effectiveness of his spells.

Once he was in range, Adrian brought the sword in his right hand down in a furious slash, but Gregory deflected the blade away with a pained curse as it traced a red line down his arm. Scrambling to get away, his ex-master let out a wordless shout.

His call was answered with a shrill cry by Cobalt who swooped to attack Adrian from his perch near the ceiling. Awkwardly trying to use his left sword as a makeshift shield to prevent the dragonet from gouging out his crystalline eyes, Adrian hesitated striking a blow against the dragonet. Though Cobalt had never spoken to him, Adrian had always had the sense that the little familiar had been quietly sympathetic to his situation. Even now as he attacked he avoided striking the only real place where Adrian might be hurt, his crystalline eyes.

Holding the swords defensively in front of himself, since he didn’t want to hurt Cobalt, he tried to catch sight of what Gregory was doing behind his familiar. As the dragonet flapped upwards again, he saw Gregory turn to flee towards the stairwell, sacrificing Cobalt so that he might escape.

Momentary hesitation broken, he raised his right sword again. Steeling himself, Adrian swung it in a long overhand chop, bringing the blade down on Cobalt’s nearest wing. Wanting simple to disable to dragonet, not kill him, he had used the flat of his blade, but even so, a loud popping crackle sounded out when the blow connected. Cobalt crumpled to the floor, but surprisingly didn’t lose consciousness to what must be agonizing pain. In fact he almost seemed relieved.

Stepping away from Cobalt, Adrian looked up from the floor in time to see Gregory dart up the stairs. Refusing to let him get away, Adrian sprinted after him. Stairs passed in a blur as he raced to catch the man.

Casting a look back over his shoulder, Gregory realized he would never make the doorway ahead of his creation. Coming to a halt midway up the stairs, he spun to raise his hand towards Adrian. Spouting a quick incantation, he made a casting motion back down the stairs, from which a fist-sized sphere of black fire hurtled towards the golem.

Adrian flinched but before he could react the spell impacted upon his breastplate to burst into a dark inferno. He was soon through the black fire, which, while uncomfortably warm, sent little more than a flash of cold through his metal form.

Seeing the golem emerge unfazed by the blast, Gregory cursed then brought up his other hand to send a larger blast. Fearing that this next spell might be more effective, Adrian widely swung his swords at Gregory as he came into range. The left flew harmlessly high, but the right caught Gregory in the side, though with the flat of the blade. The blow, delivered as it was with the enhanced strength of a golem, knocked the breath from the man and pitched him off the stairs to fall back down into the workshop. As he fell Adrian heard a loud snapping sound.

Well aware that Calisa was still helplessly tied up, Adrian hurried back down the stairs after his former master. He found him just beyond the doorway, teeth bared in pain and clutching a broken arm. Eyes every bit as dark as the cold, black flames which he had thrown at him, Gregory met Adrian’s eyes. Hate and anger rose up in his own to match his ex-master’s gaze, but of all the things he wanted to say, only a single word left his silver lips.

“Why?”

Instead of a response, Gregory growled another word that changed into a roar of pain when he thrust both arms at the golem, from which a massive blast of ebon lightning rent the air between them. Just audible over the crackling discharge was a new scream of fear from Calisa, who had somehow removed the gag from her mouth.

Half expecting another spell, Adrian had already begun to thrust his left arm and blade up as Gregory moved. Again a flash of bitter cold raced up his side, but then it was gone as he deflected the bolt aside. Knowing now that Gregory will never answer his question, and fearing another spell could well harm his sister, Adrian moved to thrust his right blade to finish the threat. As the blade plunge into his flesh, Gregory clenched his teeth at the new source of pain. Adrian winced, as he had meant to strike the man in the heart, but instead he had misjudged his thrust, causing the blade to end up in his gut instead. Grimacing, he raised his other blade for the finishing blow.

“Others will come, boy,” Gregory mouthed through the pain as he saw that second sword rise, “and you will be the first they visit.” He struggled to raise his unbroken arm for one final spell.

Adrian brought his sword hurtling down to split his former master’s skull in twain, and so hard and fast was his strike that it only lost momentum as it descended into Gregory’s chest.

At his master’s death, the dragonet let loose one long, keening cry. Whether it was one of joy or despair Adrian couldn’t tell, but the familiar soon fell silent again. Adrian, feeling strangely hollow, kicked the corpse loose. As he did so, a sharp pain, stronger than the discomfort of the dark spells cast by Gregory, sank into his chest. Looking down brought his eyes to the magically placed mark of the Artificer he’d been given upon being found worthy of being an apprentice, though this time Adrian had a suspicion that it wouldn’t fade away again.

Ignoring both the mark and the silent dragonet for now, Adrian rushed over to his still weeping sister. Seeing the silver golem looming over her, bloody sword still raised, Calisa began crying harder. She struggled to crawl away from him.

“If you stop moving, I can cut the bindings Calisa.” Calisa paused in her efforts to crawl away to stare incredulously up at him. With his sister momentarily still, Adrian carefully cut her bindings away.

“A-Adrian?” she gasped. When Adrian made no other moves she leaned in close to gaze into his crystalline eyes. Seeing familiar flecks of blue, fresh tears began to fall. “Adrian!” Thrusting herself forward, she clutched to him in a hug that would have cracked ribs had he still been made of flesh and blood. “I thought you were dead!”

“There now, I’m here.” Though he had no tears of his own, Adrian cradled his weeping sister to his chest. Lifting his eyes brought his gaze back to the torn and rent corpse of Gregory as well as his own body. Cobalt had crawled over to his former master to make soft cooing sounds as he dragged his broken wing through his dead master’s blood. It snapped into place with a small popping sound.

“Everything will be alright,” Adrian said, though he struggled to convince himself of the truth of his statement. “Everything will be alright.”

His still, cold corpse silently mocked his words.

After some time nestled in her brother’s metal arms, Calisa began to shiver. The workshop was cold, and though Adrian no longer felt uncomfortable, Calisa must be starting to feel a chill as she finally began to calm after her ordeal. With some reluctance she released her grip on her brother to vigorously rub her arms to try to get rid of her shivers. She avoided looking at the bodies on the floor or at the dragonet, now lying still and silent.

“What happens now?”

Adrian shrugged. “I don’t know, but the Watch will have to be notified of what happened here.”

Calisa made a slight frown. “But then what will happen to you?”

“I don’t know,” Adrian repeated. He gestured down at his body, “But the only way this might be fixed is with the help of the leaders of the Artificer’s Guild, and the Watch is the first step to do that. Since I can’t leave the house without causing a stir, you will need to go in my stead.”

“Ok,” she nodded, “I’ll be back with help soon.” Calisa gave him one more, quick hug that brought back her shivering. She quickly walked past the corpses, eyes fixed beyond them on the stairway out of the workshop. Heading swiftly out, it was only a minute before Adrian heard the soft thump of the workshop door being closed again.

At the sound Adrian slumped to the floor. Putting on a strong front for his sister had taken everything he had left. Now that she was gone, he turned his attention to what would happen next. He considered the problem from as many angles as he could, while taking into account what little he knew of the Guild’s laws.

No matter which way he examined it his situation was hopeless. The macabre way Gregory had used him in his ritual to empower an intelligent golem, while not his fault, could lead to but one outcome once the Guildmaster learned of it. Gregory’s corpse would be burned. The workshop would be buried. The notes detailing Gregory’s forbidden process to infuse intelligence into the silver golem would be seized and hidden away in the Guild’s vaults for further study. For Adrian, the best he could hope for was to be destroyed quickly.

At least he had saved Calisa. Secure in her apprenticeship, Adrian was sure she would rise from her training to become one of the greatest tailors in the city. Perhaps the Guildmaster would hide his destruction from her by saying he was involved in secret research to learn what had been done to move his soul into a golem. He resolved to ask, anything to spare Calisa heartache.

Feeling a soft touch along his side, Adrian nearly jerked in startlement. While considering his fate, Adrian had completely forgotten about the silent dragonet. Looking down at Cobalt, the familiar had lain down next to his leg with his eyes closed. So, his earlier cry had in fact been in joy and not sorrow. The poor creature would likely be killed as well, despite being entirely guiltless in the events that caused the silver golem to be infused with Adrian’s soul.

Sadly stroking Cobalt’s back, Adrian settled in to await the arrival of the Watch.

A man dressed in the simple leather armor of the Watch emerged from the stairway. Wrapped up in his own thoughts, Adrian hadn’t even heard the door to the workshop open. Though only a short time had passed since Calisa had left, Adrian wasn’t surprised that the Watch had already arrived. When corpses are reported the Watch tend to react quickly, doubly so when one belongs to a Cogmaster and the other to his apprentice. Such a crime rarely happens, and when it does it becomes a source of immediate concern for the city. A lot of power and wealth was linked to the Artificer’s Guild, and the death of one of its Cogmasters was a worrying development for the security of the duchy, and by extension the kingdom. It was no surprise then that a Captain of the Watch followed close on the heels of the first Watchman to enter the room, behind whom was yet another armored Watchman.

Though clearly uncomfortable having a superior looking over his shoulder, the first Watchman dispassionately scanned the room. Even so, the man’s face grew grim at the sight of Adrian’s body, and when he came next to Gregory’s body he snorted loudly before he kicked it in the side in anger.

“He’s already dead, Jerold,” the Captain said.

“Sorry, Captain Rayner, sir, lost my temper for a second,” Jerold said, “I have a son of my own wanting to become an Artificer.”

Rayner nodded in acceptance of the apology. “Maddox, help Jerold carry the corpses outside,” he said to the younger Watchman, who had followed him down the stairs, “The cart should be along soon to fetch them.”

Maddox gave a crisp salute, at which Jerold gave a barely discernable snort, though this time the Captain didn’t react to it. Being the bigger of the two, Maddox picked up the bag that had previously held Calisa and stuffed in Gregory’s corpse. Heading back up the stairs, he was none to gentle with it. The sack made a thump as its contents came in contact with each step.

Jerold in contrast carefully picked up Adrian’s corpse, even going so far as to shoot an apologetic look over at the wall where Adrian the golem now sat. Despite the surrealness of the situation, Adrian nodded back. The Artificer’s Guild had no magic at its command that could return a soul to its previous vessel. It was just an empty body now.

“Tell Maddox to wait upstairs,” Rayner told Jerold as he mounted the steps, “there is something Adrian and I need to discuss.”

“I’ll tell him, sir.”

After Jerold left the workshop, Rayner walked over to the metal chair in the corner that was covered the smallest amount of clutter. Taking hold of the box of tools that sat on it, he grunted as he struggled to lift it off the chair to put on the floor. Knowing how heavy Artificer’s tools could be, let alone a toolbox of them, Adrian made to get up to help the Captain.

“No, no, it’s quite alright. I can handle it.” Rayner waved for Adrian to sit back down. With a last jerk of his arms, and a quick gasp of effort, the Captain moved the toolbox to the floor. Rubbing his back with one hand, he grabbed the now empty chair and dragged it until it was a few feet opposite where Adrian sat against the wall. Sitting down, Rayner addressed him.

“You have put me in a bit of a difficult situation, Adrian.” Rayner sighed as he rubbed his clean-shaven face. “One I admittedly don’t know how to deal with.” He leaned back in his chair, eyes considering Adrian and Cobalt as they sat on the floor.

After a few moments of silence, and no more comments forthcoming, Adrian began to grow uncomfortable. Why didn’t the man simply take him to the Artificer’s Guild? Rayner clearly knew his name and, by extension, what had happened. The law dictated that should an Artificer be killed, and his killer caught, that they would be transported to the Artificer’s Guild for examination prior to being handed to the courts for judgment. So why then was he just sitting there?

“I guess you are wondering why I’m simply sitting here.” Seeing Adrian blink in surprise, Rayner half smiled, “Tell me then. What should I be doing?” He leaned forward with a rapt look of attention on his face, though somehow he still managed to convey a smile in his eyes.

“Well… the law dictates that you should be taking me to the Artificer’s Guild,” Adrian gave a sigh of his own, “Where I’ll likely be examined or destroyed. At this point I think the second option is the more likely…” He fell silent again.

“True,” said Rayner. The partial smile had left his face at the dire options laid out by Adrian. “But you are a unique case, atypical of what that particular law is meant to cover. I think the Artificer’s Guild would agree with me when I say we can safely discard it here.”

A wave of emotion rose up in Adrian at these words. Relief mixed with hope and disbelief at the Captain’s interpretation of the law. If he had been capable of it, he would have cried tears of joy as well. As it was, all he could do was smile. He wouldn’t have to die!

Still he found himself asking, “Why?”

Rayner held up his hand to show three fingers. “Three reasons. First, your master was clearly the lawbreaker in this instance, which makes what you did to him self-defense, for both you and your sister.” He put a finger down. “Second, based on everything that has happened, including the conversation we are having right now, your soul has clearly taken up residence in the silver golem Gregory constructed. The mark of the Artificer wouldn’t still be on your chestplate otherwise. I’d sooner accept a thousand year curse than do a murderer’s dirty work.” Rayner put his second finger down, but then paused on the verge of saying the third reason.

“And the third?” Adrian prompted.

“Well,” Rayner hesitated, “it’s less a reason and more an opening if you will. The majority of golems are simple things, made to obey commands without question and only the most expensive can even talk, let alone reason.” Another hesitation. “Let’s just say that I think you could be put to good work with the Watch. Assuming you’re interested?”

Adrian’s first reaction was to say no, but he hesitated. His time as Gregory’s apprentice had made it clear that he had the makings of a marginal Artificer at best. Even if a new Cogmaster were to be found for him, he would likely experience a relationship less like master and pupil, and more like one between researcher and subject. The more he thought about it the more saying yes made sense. There was just one more thing he had to take care of.

“What about Cobalt?” he laid his hand protectively on the dragonet’s back, “What will happen to him?”

Rayner considered the resting dragonet for a long moment. “If you join the Watch he can stay with you, assuming the Artificer’s Guild allows you to keep him. Do we have a deal?” He offered his hand to Adrian.

Reaching out Adrian took the Captain’s hand and, being careful not to squeeze too hard, shook it gently. “Deal.”

“Excellent!” Rayner stood up and began taking the chair back to its corner.

“One more thing, Captain, about something that Gregory said before he died.”

Rayner turned back to face his newest recruit. “What did he say?”

“He said that others would be coming, and that I would be the first one they visit.”

Some of the worry must have shown on his face, for Rayner set the chair down and came back to Adrian’s side to rest a comforting hand on his shoulderplate. “We can protect you,” the Captain jerked his thumb back up the stairs where Gregory’s corpse had been taken, “though from the look of things you might not need all that much protecting.”

“It’s not me I’m worried about, sir, it’s the reasons these others might have for coming here in the first place.” Before Adrian even finished presenting his concerns, Captain Rayner was nodding.

“As it should be, recruit.” The Captain gave his first real smile of the night. “Welcome to the Watch.”