Redemption Arc

As Lucian led his party of monastics and Student Ambassadors into the Hells, everyone went totally silent, following his words to the letter. Aurelia stayed close enough one might assume she was plastic wrap and he had static. Lucian led them through a winding path between the crevices and sheltered hills leading to the citadel. It was situated at the top of a hill, so Lucian was worried they’d be exposed if any demons other than the Golemancer were watching. The only noise all of them could hear was the quaking of the earth as the giant golem patrolled the exterior.

Small golems started to walk into view, one by one. They bore crossbows, bows, spears. They trained them on their party. Before long, they were completely surrounded, but Lucian persisted in walking toward the wall. Everyone was terrified. Eventually, he came to a rather small gate on the side of the fortress. There, a huge golem bearing a halberd awaited them. It hefted it and raised it above them as if to slam it down and kill them all.

“I’d like to prevail upon the rule of a gentleman’s hospitality,” Lucian said quickly and clearly. “A day’s lodging for myself and my company.”

A few seconds of silence passed, broken only by the distant shaking from the patrolling giant. Then, every golem lowered their weapon at once. The gargantuan one with the halberd reached down and grabbed the gate with one arm, then lifted it up with seemingly no effort. Lucian looked back at everyone, then advanced. They followed him into the Citadel of the Golemancer.

When they passed the gate, the golem released its hand and it slammed shut behind them powerfully. Lucian and all the others exhaled in sheer relief.

“Nearly needed to change clothes,” Heath admitted, sitting and wiping away sweat.

“Probably should, just for our sakes,” Miriam quipped.

“What rule did you invoke, Lucian?” Ruth asked him. “Are we obligated to do anything?”

Lucian nodded. “We have to follow certain rules to maintain our host’s hospitality. In return, we’re given a place to stay for one day… alongside three meals. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner. The host must be present for those meals.” He exhaled, similarly relieved. “This guy… he comes from a very old-fashioned culture.”

Lucian had three opportunities for a conversation with the creator of this Citadel. If any of them went poorly…

Dying would be the easiest outcome, Lucian reflected. We might end up like the Dragonwarden—bound in armor in eternal servitude.

If that were the case, Lucian hoped he caught the Black Bloom. It’d be an easier out.

Before long, their fairly large party was approached by a rather polite looking golem that stood in contrast to the heavily armored ones that they’d seen prior. It looked somewhat like a meek butler, though it had many improvements that probably made it a better a servant than a human or elven one—built in attachments lined its wrist. It paused before them and bowed, and then beckoned them inward.

“Looks like we’re going to have that first meal,” Rowan concluded. “Or maybe we’re being shown to our quarters.”

“I’m not entirely sure what we’re in for, but I do know this person follows the ancient traditions of the civilization before the Empire of New Riverra. There are a few rules that you need to remember about this hospitality,” Lucian said. “If you break them, we’re no longer considered guests… and he can do what he wishes,” Lucian said direly to emphasize the point.

All listened as Lucian continued, “One: we must destroy nothing. Two: we cannot insult our host or his family. Three: we cannot refuse reasonable hospitality without a valid reason.”

“’Cannot refuse?’ What does that mean?” Bethany asked in alarm.

“He won’t do anything unreasonable… or so the True Divine Beast says,” Lucian said. “And I trust him with my life. I trust him more than myself,” he emphasized. "I know this is a lot, going into the Hells. But he wouldn't send us here without good reason."

People were slightly calmed by those words. It felt odd to invoke himself like that, but... what could he do?

“That said, if he wants you to eat fish, you eat fish,” Lucian continued. “A hospitality must be a kindness, a favor. And he’ll ask you outright—‘will you refuse my hospitality?’—if you’re at risk. I don’t think we’ll have cause for concern, but… well, we’re past the walls in the worst case. And the walls are the most dangerous part.”

“Should we discuss plans so openly?” Arthur asked. “That golem responded to your words, after all. Others might be listening.”

“The golems can’t hear,” Lucian explained. “They have will, and they can be made to respond to certain phrases, but they’re not listening devices. If there’s no other questions…”

After a few moments of preparation, they all followed the serving golem deeper into the citadel.

***

The Citadel of the Golemancer was plainly a fortification first rather than a residence. The area that they passed through was practical rather than prideful. No doubt practicality was in abundant need in the Hells, with the demons teeming in every direction. Perhaps because Lucian already knew who they were meeting, he saw the mind of an engineer in most of the designs.

It was only once they reached the interior that things began to transform into a genuine residence. That said, it was a very ascetic place. It would be more accurate to call it an industrial workshop than a home. There were countless warehouses, workbenches, smelters, and all other manner of machinery necessary to shape and meld metal. There were workers too—golem workers, acting off their master’s will.

And at the center of it all, like it had been transplanted from another time, was a house of wood. It somewhat resembled the cottage that Aurelia had been staying in. Its rustic nature inspired some to let their guard down, but Lucian’s was raised. Everyone had been educated on the rules of hospitality that they needed to follow, and he had some idea of what would draw the Golemancer’s attention. That said, this was a bit of a leap into the darkness. This could end very unpredictably.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

When they finally neared the cottage, the door opened. Another serving golem walked out, laying out a mat so that they could wipe their feet. Lucian was the first to arrive, and he and Aurelia wiped their feet down before proceeding into the home.

The interior was much the same as the exterior—that is to say, out of place. It was a recreation of the home that the Golemancer used to live in before he became the creature that he was today. Around them was nothing that wouldn’t be in the average man’s home. Its owner clung to the past, to tradition, while also changing his craft with the times.

“Do you think… this man is human?” Ruth asked Rowan quietly as she entered behind. “But who in the world would choose to live in the Hells?”

Rowan didn’t say anything as the serving golem opened a door and bid them to enter. Beyond would be the dining hall, where there would be an undoubtedly irritated master craftsman pulled away from his work to entertain guests that he did only out of some vainglorious clinging to a past long forgotten.

Lucian took a deep breath, and entered first.

The Golemancer sat at the head of a long table, where places had been set for each of them. His skin was somewhat unusual, its color best described as that of a bruise. He wore the clothes of a craftsman, stained black by repeated use. He had goggles on—animated goggles, whose lens shifted as it scrutinized their party. The chair that he sat upon was animated as well. It was another golem, compacted for the moment into a chair. He looked the part of a mad scientist.

“What?” the Golemancer said, his voice that of shock.

Moments later the chair that had been still came alive. Arms sprouted from it and began to lift the demon from the ground. The masterwork of golemancy crawled across the table without so much as disturbing a plate as he neared. The Golemancer came to loom over Lucian, peering upon him with such intensity Lucian felt the need to shrink away.

“Smart dog?” Aurelia asked, clearly concerned.

“No. And make sure everyone else keeps back,” Lucian insisted.

Lucian swallowed, standing his ground but making no move otherwise. The Golemancer stopped Lucian at the doorway. He studied him like a curiosity. Then, he reached for his goggles and removed them. Immediately, Lucian turned his gaze away. In his peripheries, he could see hungry holes of emptiness consuming the world around them where his eyes ought to be. Lucian closed his own eyes so that he could see no more.

“You know me,” the Golemancer said. “You know what my eyes do. But this is markedly less interesting than you, yourself…”

Lucian swallowed. The goggles that the Golemancer wore weren’t intended to help him perceive the world better. They were designed to dilute the potency of his eyes, which were capable of perceiving much more than vision alone. Not only did they allow him greater insight into the world around him, they could tear the thoughts from people’s head. If one made eye contact, people could think something, yet the Golemancer would be the one to hear it in his head. He would quite literally steal their thoughts.

Lucian gathered his courage and said, “This is a rather strange form of hospitality.”

“Hmm…” the Golemancer mused. Lucian heard movement. “You’re correct. I have overstepped. You may open your eyes once more.”

Lucian opened his eyes, glad to see that the goggles were back on and the Golemancer was returning to his place.

“Welcome to my home. Your first meal is being prepared,” the Golemancer said, his eyes still locked on Lucian. “In the meantime, I would urge you to take your places. And… by way of amends for my rudeness…” The Golemancer rose to his feet. His steps appeared shaky, but he supported himself with the table. “I would request that you take my seat at the head of the table.”

Lucian stared at the chair that was being offered. While it seemed to have reverted to a normal chair, he knew it was anything but. It was the masterwork of the master craftsman standing there—something that heeded his every whim with will alone. Lucian honestly didn’t know how to respond.

“The seat of honor is for the leader of the party, no?” Rowan asked, who’d entered by now.

“And the leader of the party is the one who asks for hospitality,” the Golemancer said. “Will you refuse my hospitality?”

He’d invoked the rule. If they refused his hospitality, they would be his guests no longer.

“No,” Lucian said, walking to the Golemancer’s throne. “I’ll gladly accept this.”

Lucian sat down in the throne. It was nicely cushioned and beyond comfortable, but Lucian didn’t feel comfortable with the Golemancer leering at him. The demon took a seat beside him.

“My golems are still preparing our meal. In the meantime, we have time for a conversation,” the Golemancer said, his gaze not breaking away. “Why not introduce yourself… honored guests?”

One by one, all of the names were given. Even despite that, the Golemancer’s gaze never wavered from Lucian.

“Ordinarily, I must admit that having a conversation is burdensome,” the Golemancer said. “I dislike entertaining guests. Speaking at all, for that matter. I don’t like social games, largely because I’m terrible at them. But you, Lucian… you’re worth a conversation.” He grinned. “Do you know what they did to golem craftsmen in my day?”

“I don’t,” Lucian said.

“We underwent what’s called a Hollowing. It’s a ritual. First, we were castrated,” the Golemancer said. “That wasn’t a necessary procedure, but a symbol one. By making the craftsman unable to have children, the idea was that they would put much more love and care into creating golems. Golems would become their family.

“But the meat of the Hollowing… the part that enables one to control golems… all else must be stripped away from them. They must be rendered a cripple on other paths. Magic and martial.”

Lucian’s eyes narrowed. “Do you mean…”

“Yes,” the Golemancer said, leaning in. “You have been Hollowed. I thought the technique was utterly lost, and I haven’t been able to recreate it. But you, boy… your body has been stripped bare. It’s wonderful. Truly, truly wonderful.”

Lucian relaxed in the chair slightly. This reaction was unexpected, but this sounded like a good thing.

“But he’s not a eunuch, right?” Aurelia asked quickly.

“What? No,” Lucian said, double-taking at that question. He refocused on the Golemancer, dismissing her oddities. “So… you want me to learn the magic of making golems?”

“Hmm?” The Golemancer laughed, then leaned back in his chair. “Oh… is that what it sounded like? No, no… you see, I’ve dearly missed being human. I never wanted to be a demon. But they learned how to commandeer my work, to steal all my achievements right from under me.” He shook his head. “Even still, I wish for nothing more than to return to the surface to continue my work. There’s one way for a demon to do that.”

Lucian grew still as things fell into place.

“I’d like to possess your body,” the Golemancer said.