Once again, I found myself observing the golems as they worked. Today, they were laying long rectangles of wood on top of a large frame, also made of wood.
It was a most unusual spectacle. Golems, by their very nature, were but a weapon given life by human hands, a tool they developed to defend themselves from monsters and archbeasts. However, these golems were unlike any I’d seen or heard tell of before. Unlike their more fearsome brethren, these golems had been made to a somewhat charming size—and, rather than seeking out enemies, they’ve been building something since early this morning.
Much like every other spell Master has woven, these creatures were beyond my understanding.
Even so, how could he possibly be maintaining so many golems at once? Creating a single golem requires a significant amount of mana, and sustaining their continual activity requires a great deal more. Furthermore, despite their charming size, I could sense an abnormally large pool of gifted mana in each of Master’s golems—and he’d made more than ten of them. How?
There was something else I could detect in the golems too: an unnatural sense of free will. Golems were meant to take orders and follow them as instructed; that was their purpose. A lump of inorganic material that couldn’t—shouldn’t—be able to do anything but follow commands. Yet for some reason, these piles of inorganic rock seemed to have minds of their own. Even now, two of the golems, having just successfully placed another of the longer pieces of wood, turned to one another and slapped their respective open palms together. A gesture of satisfaction, perhaps. Another golem is attempting to shave some wood to size—with a mithril knife, at that—but it doesn’t appear to be going well. Another of the creatures comes to the first’s aid, and it lowers its head in response. I assume it to be an expression of gratitude.
Satisfaction and gratitude are not emotions I should be able to sense from inorganic matter.
✦ ✦ ✦
Master’s power is beyond even my reckoning.
The strangest thing about Master, of course, was his magic. Without fading or faltering, it pours into the forest, into his barriers, and even into us, and in turn, my own lost power was slowly returning to me. Years upon years spent protecting my brethren left my own magic as but a withered remnant of what it once was, but as Master’s warm, gentle magic flowed into me, I could feel it begin to grow once more.
While this pleased me, I couldn’t help but worry. Maintaining the barrier necessitates a constant contribution of mana in itself, let alone what he freely gives to us. However, my worries have yet to be answered, and Master continues to scatter his power around as though the concept of exhaustion does not apply to him. To worry for him seems an altogether foolish endeavor. Indeed, Master’s powers likely surpass even ours—we, the monarchs of this forest.
When Master expressed a desire for thread, I introduced him to the Suwasowa beasts. I didn’t consider for even a second that they would have attacked him. Thankfully, Master’s barrier did not allow their deadly venom to pass. It has no effect on those of us who lived in the forest, but for a human, a single drop of their venom can be a death sentence. It can even breach a magical barrier should the caster be lacking in ability.
Of course, their venom couldn’t possibly breach Master’s barriers—and why would they even try? After all, they too could sense the attack magic woven into his mana shield. But I’d underestimated the Suwasowa. It had been prepared to die when it had unleashed that attack. In the end, the counterattack spell hadn’t activated, and all was well. Still, a chill ran through my body at the memory, for the Suwasowa hadn’t been the only thing in the firing range; if the barrier had responded with force, I had no doubt that I, too, would have been annihilated from a single blow.
I’d witnessed a glimpse of one such counterattack a few days prior, when something had attempted to breach the barrier in the dead of the night. The barrier had responded with force, a beam of pure light cutting through the black sky that entranced me with its beauty. For it truly was something beautiful—and something that I hoped to never, ever have the opportunity to experience for myself.