Cold and sharp winds are the first prelude to the end of autumn, the skies begin to cover in still white clouds preparing for when temperatures drop and snow covers the trails and rooftops alike. The very last leaves fall to the ground, bushes become shriveled and the trees are most like dead trunks, not looking like any vegetation, even if one were to search burrows and hidden caverns, no animals hid in them, they were not common even in warmer seasons.
A young man, only a few stubs of beard growing in his face, tried, to no avail, digging up burrows with his hand shovel for any hidden rabbit or rodent to take their meat, his sigh of frustation left his lips forming a warm cloud from his breath. He kicked some of the dirt back into the hole, shook his shovel, cleaning the grime on the edge of his cloak, lifting his head from the small trench he spotted a man in thick clothing, much like his own, chopping low branches with a handaxe.
The man looked back, not distracting himself from his work, gave the boy a sly smile and contined to add more sticks to the pile
Holding the deges of his cloak the boy climbed out of the sallow trench, walking towards the man, both had similarly light brown hair, but the man kept a noticeable clean shave.
“At least I tried” - The boys said frustrated - “I wanted something fresh, not those dry beefs”
“Then maybe we’ll make a stew to soften it”
“Not the same thing!” It still tastes like used boots”
The man gave him an amused look as he prepared a snarky comeback but the boy caught on
“No dad! I haven’t and I don’t want to taste your boots to know!”
The father expressed a proud smile at his son’s wits, he continued to gather the branches and let the boy have his last words.
The boy’s eye’s shifted to a metallic humanoid figure moving closer, he had seen it further away but now it marched closer to them, it resembled a tall suit of full plate amor, about 1,90 meters tall, although it look like a suit of armor, closer it seemed a mismatched puzzle of pans and metal sheets, beneath the makeshift amor was a thick black dirty cloth, it left no visible away to see what really wore this crude amor, it had a basket, half filled with dirt and roots tied around it’s waist. Moving somewhat stiff, stopped, then kneeled at the base of the tree, begging to dig at it’s roots.
These things didn’t scare the boy much anymore, they had wondered the forest since he was a child, however there was allways the nagging curiosity as to what was really wearing that armor, and the few others around the region.
When the obscure helm turned to him, the boy felt the childish fear return for a moment, something told him however it was not at him he was looking, so the boy turned around.
Slowly moving between the dry trunks it almost looked like a specter, a stranger wore grey robes, up to his knees beige from dirt and mud, he carried on his back a large backpack and a satchel over his shoulder, they clearly now denounced him as a traveler, seemed to carry no weapons.
In the corner of his eyes the boy spotted that the metal armor was now kneeling, its head in a submissive bow towards the stranger, he couldn’t say if this was a good or bad thing, in the back of his head, remembering a conversation with his father he spoke.
“Is that the arcanist dad?”
He pointed his finger almost like a dumbfounded child.
Tilting his head the father spotted the wandering stranger, his features turning to a friendly smile, he calmed his son, strapped the handaxe back in his belt and quickly gathered the branches in a pile.
The approaching stranger, the boy could now better make out, was a male, standing half a head smaller than the metallic armor, he could not say whether he had a big frame, but it seemed unlikely. Both his father and the stranger came closer together almost like friends preparing for a hug, yet stopped a bit before that, now face to face.
Removing his hood that flapped against the back of his head, this traveler had a gray hair, like ashes left till morning in the fireplace, he was not old, his face was well rounded and jovial, almost as if untouched by the passage of time, his ears were pointed at the end, slightly bigger too, having a curious dark olive skin. A genuine but somewhat tired smile plastered his face, though in the surface he seemed young, there was a keen air of experience about him, something only further enhanced by his shifting purple eyes, that dance around his dark pupil.
The Father was the first to speak
“The winds have brought you back master Kelivan” - He made the gesture of travelers - “Was it six springs since?”
“Almost that, i made it before winter”
Kelivan’s voice also gave some tired demeanor, but was pleasing to the hear, almost like he could sing his words, he continued.
“I hope all has been working” - Looking back at the armored suit - “Were the harvests any better?”
“The last two years were yes, but we would not last winter completely yet”
“And none of them broke?”
“Same as when you left sir”
Staring again at the armor, Kelivan made a gesture with his hand, making it resume the task digging roots. His eyes met with the boy’s, feeling a mixture of curiosity and hesitation, eased by his respectful nod, that the boy returned confused, going back to the father he continued.
“If you excuse me then, I have to tend to my house before the snow”
The father accepted it and lifted his right arm for a hand shake, Kelivan however lifted his left arm, after a confused second the Father changed to his left and both shook hands.
“My right one is hurt” - he explained - “It will heal, yet it stings a lot still”
In jokingly manner the father laughed it off, stood aside so Kelivan passed by him, he did notice that there were no bandages on his right arm beneath the cloak. The boy moved to his father’s side as both observed Kelivan strutting about the trail on his way
“Don’t you normally ask friends for dinner dad?”
“Yes” - The father answered - “But your mother dislikes master Kelivan, some jibrish your aunt said to her”
“So he is the one that made the golems?”
“The very same, I remember him when I was your age… wonder if magic keeps one young” - Walking to the pile as he spoke - “We used to think he was a golem himself, only an eccentric sort he is, though, i think all arcanists must be”
The boy seemed to ponder the information for a moment and asked exited
“Do you think he takes apprentices?’
“Never seen one, he could have on some other town”
Deciding to keep this idea for later the boy helped gather the other branches. When they were done he walked closer to the golem, it reached in its basket, gifting the boy a handful of mushrooms and roots, when he took them, the construct returned to digging roots in robotic movement.
They both walked the trail home.
Kelivan was now out of their sight, alone he walked the cold forest, not bothering to put the hood back, taking the cold wind, he tried to adjust the satchel over his shoulder more securely, a task made harder with only one hand.
<<<< >>>>
“You will not learn any magic from that man!”
The mother told the boy in very harsh voice, he still however wanted to push further
“I couldn't learn swordplay because you said it was dangerous! and I can't do magic either?”
“Not. from. that. Man” - She said firmly - “If you want that badly then make enough to pay a tutor, better yet, study to get into a good academy!”
The boy could tell that being pushy was only leading to screaming over one another, his anger being shadowed by disappointment, he knew that even with some savings, could be years before he had enough to pay a school, only a few years left before he was to old to become a novice, chances were fading. His mother saw the boy’s frustration clearly, so she spoke in a more gentle tone.
“I know sweetie… but i don’t want you near that man”
“He and Dad spoke like friends…” - The boy also remembered the golems - “And he made the golems, they help everyone all year round, so what's his problem? he doesn't seem a bad person”
“He may not be one… but remember aunt Janie?”
The boy nodded
“Well she spent years studding to read peoples fates or aura, I never approved her dabblings… but she used to get them spot on, once she tried it on master Kelivan” - The mother stopped as if looking for the right words - “She was a bit spooked at how enigmatic he seemed… she couldn't understand how a man could have such good will but exude such death.
<<<< >>>>
There was barely a trail to speak of after a few years, but it was still visible, and Kelivan followed it towards a house, larger than it was tall, red tiles that made the roof where it was higher to the right, sloping to the left, built on a small base of stone, beams of wood were spaced through the plaster walls, the few windows were closed but fairly well kept. This house had no fence to speak of limiting a front yard, on it’s right, practically glued to the house was a workshop, making the building into an L like shape, it’s walls were all wood, and bigger windows allowed the flow of air, Most distinct features was its high ceiling, surpassing the house slightly and the furnace, a big one, its base lapidated fine stone, with a tall chimney, next to it were benches ,tools and a small scale crane, almost the size of the roof, operated by a simple pulley system, some barrels and shelves housed broken pieces of reworked metal, much like the armor in the scrap golems.
Walking towards the door in the main house, Kelivan need only to push it open, it was unlocked, the interior of this ante chamber was lit by an oil lamp, atop a counter where it laid some baskets and tools, two chairs lined the wall to allow one to remove their foot wear before entering.
Hearing some footsteps coming closer a harsh and deep voice spoke.
“Welcome home Lord Kelivan”
passing through the arch that connected the ante chamber to the rest of the residence came a man, his clothes covered all his body, dressing much like a buttler would, his black blazer was trimmed with a dark red details, as well as he wore leathery wine dark gloves, some discrete frills were his white clothing ended, in contrast he seemed to wear pristine looking boots, yet most interesting was his grey hood, covering him even more, he had no features to speak of, instead there was a mask of grey unreflective metal, it had a sensible happy expression, but no hole for either mouth, nose or eyes.
Kelivan grinned from ear to ear and spoke.
“Help me with these Rafie please… doing it with one hand I’ll make a mess of all this”
“My pleasure”
Moving closer Rafie began helping his lord to remove the backpack, when he offered to take the satchel Kelivan said he need to keep it close, so he moved on to remove his heavy boots and change to more casual leather shoes.
“Is there anyone in confinement?” - Asked Kelivan
“Yes Lord, two”
“Bandits?”
A simple positive nod was the answer he need.
In silence Kelivan moved in, followed by Rafie, he passed the living room, an almost empty bookshelf, a fire place and a assorted furniture were the few decorations, onward to kitchen, a metal oven, cupboards with cutlery and pots, few herbs hanged in hooks, he stopped before the door that led to the backyard.
Lifting his left hand till the height of his neck, using his index finger, Kelivan began waving it, a faint grey light trailing behind it, few unintelligible words were whispered, a small enigmatic sigil stood hovering in grey color, as he repeated the motion mirroring the first, once the two sigils now created, he used his thump and index as if to grab both, touching once in his chest and once on Rafie.
Like a drop of water spreading a wave on a puddle, a grey ripple ran both their bodies where he had touched, vanishing a second later.
He then opened the door, the warm air of the house turned cold, he began walking towards the forest, but neither his nor Rafie’s footsteps left any trail. Both walked on a while, the house now out of sight.
Rafie tilted his head, he was trying to express both confusion and concern, having no expression to speak of, he had become quite versatile in body language, Kelivan however, if even noticed, decided to ignore continuing on.
Not long after they approached a few strange mounds, covered in shriveled bushes and trees, if was hard to make out anything through its thick twisting branches, even stepping to one side or the other seemed to make looking through it confusing and filled in the idea it was best simply to go around it, ignoring this nonetheless, both came closer as the vegetation continued to shift to be more impassable till reality made a sudden change, before them, incorporated in the mound was a stone archway, shifting sigils seemed to constantly change across its surface, much like the vegetation did in it’s illusion, through it a staircase descend in, illuminated by faint blue hue. Even if both knew where to go, getting distracted or simply looking somewhere else, would shift one's perception back to the image of the mound, as if there was no entrance at all, such was the distorted perception it created.
They descend only the first few steps before Kelivan turned to Rafie.
“Please seal the entrance”
“Very well Lord” -Rafie spoke with concern - “Will we be here very long?”
There was no answer, as Kelivan simply continued downstairs. Rafie let his shoulders hang a bit, he then knelt and grabbed two slots in the stone stairs, his arms did not look anywhere near muscular, not even taller than his Lord, yet with the ease as one would a rug, lifted the slab of stairs, that formed an arched door, hinged at its base, it arched leaving behind a trail of dust, sealing the entrance perfectly, the sound of heavy rocks locking it in place.