Redemption Arc

“Did you say you’d like to… possess my body?” Lucian asked.

The Golemancer finally looked away from Lucian as the food was brought in. The others had probably been concerned that they’d be eating something unpalatable, but what came out was food like any other. He didn’t quite know where this food was kept, but none of it seemed or smelled wrong. He felt considerably less comfortable eating after those words.

“Yes. Surely you must be familiar with the process, being that you’re so bold as to walk into the Hells,” the Golemancer continued. “What other reason could you have to come here? I certainly can’t imagine anyone has come for the pleasure of my company. I hate doing things I’m bad at, and one thing I’m bad at is these social games, these pleasantries… so I’ll skip them. You’ve come here for my power. Whether my knowledge or my ability, it all boils down to power.”

Rowan leaned into the table. “Trying to steal someone’s body doesn’t exactly sound hospitable to me.”

“Stealing, you say…” the Golemancer repeated, looking to Rowan. “I’ll be gracious enough to assume ignorance instead of malevolence. This would be no theft. This would be a partnership.”

“A partnership that fundamentally changes the person who enters into it,” Rowan continued. “The two of you would merge into one entity, effectively. You would change his mind, and he would change yours. Even if you’re not merged in totality, the word ‘possession’ implies that something would be lost.”

The Golemancer tapped his fingers on the table. “I can’t help but notice that none of you are eating. Are you refusing my hospitality?”

Even though this request had come out of left field, Lucian didn’t want things to devolve into active combat, especially not when he was sitting on the most powerful golem in this house. He picked up his fork and knife and reached across the table to retrieve a slab of beef. He set it on his plate, then cut into it and ate it. All of the others slowly followed suit, though the discomfort was palpable.

“Good,” the Golemancer said in satisfaction. “Your friend speaks of the idea with considerable discomfort, but from my perspective, what I’m offering you is an unimaginable opportunity,” the devil said. “Over what well may be a millennium, I have become exceptionally powerful. You seem to know what my eyes do, but I believe it would be prudent to explain their effects in case there is a misunderstanding.

“If I were to possess you, you would gain the ability to perceive the world perfectly,” the Golemancer continued. “You could comprehend the makeup of an enchantment just by looking at it. You could understand and reverse engineer the most complex magics imaginable. When you look into people’s eyes, you will be able to hear their thoughts in your head. Nothing about this world would be beyond your understanding.”

Ruth stabbed her chicken hard. “The offer doesn’t matter so much as the cost. Right now, our people suffer invasion from demons. And you, sir, are a devil.”

The Golemancer looked to her, his goggles shifting. “I am not like the First Emperor or his ilk. The only thing that I wish to pursue is further mastery of my craft. I never wished to come here, to degrade myself as I have. But the demons stole my craft from me, twisted it to their own ends. In order to continue my work, I had to become this abomination you see before you. Useful though the form may be, I would give it up in a heartbeat if I could.”

“I don’t understand. You’re a demon, aren’t you?” Arthur asked. “What is this? What are you, really?”

The Golemancer leaned back in his chair. “I am a man that became a devil. Devils can come into being in countless ways. Sometimes common beasts are corrupted, and wander into the Hells as they dream to be born anew. They leave dead bodies behind, but live on as demons. Sometimes they’re simply willed into being by the malevolent energy of the Hells. And very rarely… the living can make the plunge themselves. I’ve met only two others: Ruminian and a man named Belcourt. The First Emperor may well be one such figure, but I cannot say for certain.”

“I killed Ruminian,” Lucian said. “That long noodle of a dragon, right? She’s dead.”

The table went quiet at that. He needed to establish facts that ensured he wouldn’t simply be disregarded. There’d been no mention that Ruminian was a dragon, and the fact that he’d known that would make the Golemancer believe it. And if need be… he could show him another way.

“Did you come here for the same purpose?” the Golemancer asked calmly. “Yet more power to be added to that mark on your hand?”

“No,” Lucian denied at once. “You were right in your first assessment. We came here looking for you.”

The Golemancer held his hands wide. “And I’ve been looking for someone like you for centuries uncountable. No doubt you’ve some favor to ask of me. A golem to craft… a problem to solve. I’ve received people like you before, and I’ve left hints enough in the world of how to find me. You wish to borrow my power. But why not inherit it?”

“It’s not that simple,” Lucian said.

“And why not?” he asked. “I have no designs in the world but to rebirth my craft anew. To hammer metal into shape, and then breathe life into that metal. To see golems stride across the earth, making the world into the place that it once was. And you could become the instrument of that rebirth, Lucian.” He leaned in closer. “Demonic energy is not inherently evil. You must know that, seeing as you wield it through your Inquisitor’s Mark. Yes—I know about the thing on your hand. I helped Belcourt design it, after all.”

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People stirred uncomfortably at that revelation. Most knew Lucian had the mark, but none of them had been told that Belcourt had relied upon a demon in its creation.

Lucian frowned. “Then surely you can understand that I’m using this to fight against the demons. Welcoming one isn’t necessarily in my best interests.”

The Golemancer looked outside. “The Hells are vast. The First Emperor is one player among many. He may dominate this land, but beyond, there are others whom think nothing of him. They would not even know his name, and would think little of his goals.”

“They bloody well aren’t doing anything to stop it,” Heath said in protest.

“Fair enough,” the Golemancer admitted. “But these are the Darklands. No light shines here… and very little is remembered. It is an inhospitable, undesirable place that few wish to venture. I stay here only because I have ties to the lands near it.”

Lucian ate his steak in silence. Despite his worries, it tasted quite good. He used that time to think about what he needed to do in this situation.

He very clearly wants to possess my body, Lucian said. He glanced at Aurelia, who had stayed relatively quiet this whole time. Maybe my prayers worked, and this is the monkey paw’s way of letting me read minds. But… Jesus. Inviting a demon to possess me? Melding my mind with a millennia-old golem craftsman? Feels like I’d just be washed away, would become something totally different.

He glanced back at the Golemancer, who still stared. But I have leverage. While this man is relatively grounded for a devil, he has an almost delusional attachment to his humanity. He’s also socially inept, by his own admission and my own experience in War of Four. I’m not quite comfortable… but I should act like I’m considering it to get what I want.

“You’ve caught me unawares with this suggestion,” Lucian eventually said. “Given the magnitude of the offer, time to think is in order, no?”

The Golemancer sighed and leaned back. “Perhaps it is. Perhaps you need time to see the power of what I’m suggesting. You are my guests. Tour my citadel freely. Behold my creations. And ask yourself… what if?”

Lucian nodded. “I will. In the meantime, you spoke to my true reason for coming here,” Lucian said. He reached down to where he’d left his things, and he produced Belcourt’s arm. He offered it. “You mentioned having collaborated with Belcourt to make the Inquisitor’s Mark. Then… there’s no one better person to help me process this into something that I can use.”

The moment that the Golemancer unwrapped Belcourt’s arm, his reaction was much the same as it had been in War of Four. “Hah! The cocky fool,” he marveled. “I knew that one day he would take a step too far, but I never imagined I would see the fruit of that. Still, he was cunning… resourceful. It surprises me you were able to corner him enough to claim this. Is he dead?”

“He’s not. But would you be willing to extract what’s within and pass that on to me?” Lucian asked.

The Golemancer studied the arm. “Fine, very well. This is such an intriguing project that I would probably have done it regardless. But I will require payment. A portion of the spoils from this mark.”

He had expressed a similar sentiment in War of Four, so Lucian wasn’t surprised. That said, he was relieved. He hoped that the outcome would be the same as well. Furthermore, he hoped that the demon could take ‘no’ for an answer. He had been a bit gung-ho about shoving the Formless Essence into his body, but being possessed by a devil seemed on another level.

I like being me, Lucian reflected. All things considered.

Even still, there was a nugget of greed in his heart. To learn the lost art of making golems, as Belcourt had… could there possibly be any better outcome to this trip? Part of him had been hoping against all reason that it’d be possible to do so, and that he might be able to liberate the Dragonwarden from his bondmail.

It’s going to be a tense few meals, I should think…

But did this mean that Belcourt, too, had been Hollowed? He knew the art of crafting golems. Belcourt, lauded as one of the world’s greatest talents in his time, was as disabled as Lucian? That didn’t make sense at all.

***

The meal ended without any major decisions.

The Golemancer peered through a hole in the walls of his citadel. Countless exactly-positioned glass crystals allowed him to see the front from deep inside… and right now, Belcourt Asheford stood at the gates of his home. He, too, had invoked the right to hospitality.

The Golemancer’s strongest desire rested within this citadel right now. Lucian was what he needed. But it was much to ask someone that he’d met only today for a partnership as deep as possession.

I need something to pressure Lucian, the Golemancer thought. Could this be it?

He willed his masterpiece to carry him forward, and it whisked him through his citadel at a brisk pace. Soon enough, he arrived at the gate where Belcourt stood. He didn’t like venturing to the outside of his fortress. He was more vulnerable here. A concentrated attack might damage him. But right now, it was worth the risk.

“Belcourt,” the Golemancer called out. “I’m already entertaining guests… and considering they lent me your arm, you seem not to be on good terms.”

Belcourt looked around. “Now why would you make that assumption? Just because someone tore off my arm doesn’t mean we can’t be good friends. I can forgive and forget. Why else would I be here?”

“The safety of my guests is paramount,” the Golemancer said. “Can you prove that you’ll behave yourself? Prove you won’t try and get your arm back, try and disrupt our conversation?”

“If I need to wear manacles and a collar, so be it. All I ask is to be present your next meals with them,” Belcourt insisted.

“Will you look into my eyes and provide the truth?”

Belcourt didn’t answer for a time. “You want to read my mind.” More silence followed. “If that’s what it takes, that’s what it takes.”

The Golemancer grinned. With will alone, his golem grabbed the gate and hefted it open so that his new guest might enter.