Chapter 19: BROTHER


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    The Golems emerge from the elements as siblings, yet their spirits still yearn for parentage. In their quest to fill that void, many bind themselves to the will of other factions, adopting new allegiances like children seeking guardians. I fear each step away from their birthplace erodes the ancient link they once shared with the One Source.


    ***


    Cragmarr crouched in the shadows, his clay form blending with the darkness. The metallic scent of blood hung thick in the air. A Samurai warrior slumped against a tree, his golden armor stained crimson. Beside him lay a boy, pale and still, dried blood caking his bandaged temple.


    "Hiro," Cragmarr whispered regretfully. "I should have moved faster."


    Minutes ticked by as the Samurai fought to keep his eyes open. His head would dip and then snap back up. Finally, his chin dropped to his chest, and he stayed there, his breaths settling into a sleeping rhythm.


    Cragmarr crept across the forest floor. In one hand, he held a Jingozi card, its edges gleaming with gentle light. With the other hand, he snapped his fingers, producing an orange Zii coin that hummed with energy.


    He brought the two together. The card and coin merged in a flash of amber light, creating a single glowing sigil. Carefully, Cragmarr pressed it to Hiro''s forehead. The boy''s color improved instantly, his breathing growing stronger.


    Cragmarr''s gaze shifted to the Samurai. His wounds were serious, but his Jingozi powers already worked to knit flesh back together.


    Better to let him rest than risk waking him with healing.


    Cragmarr gathered fallen branches and fed them to the dying fire. The flames rose higher, casting warmth over the sleeping figures.


    Satisfied that the camp was secure, the Golem pressed his palm against the forest floor. The earth spoke to him through subtle tremors, a language as natural as breathing. His orange marble eyes swirled as he concentrated on the vibrations rippling through the soil.


    There.


    A faint disturbance snaked toward the camp. Cragmarr rose silently, his arms spreading wide for balance as he tracked the movement. A wooden tentacle, thick as a man''s arm, slithered between the trees. The tentacle''s gnarled bark plates shifted and creaked as it moved, leaving a trail of corrupted soil in its wake.


    Blight.


    Cragmarr traced the appendage to its origin. It led him through a maze of ancient trees, their trunks twisted and gnarled. Black sap oozed from their bark, a sure sign of the Blight''s corruption.


    The earth''s vibrations grew stronger as he tracked the tentacle to its source. More appendages emerged from the shadows, all connected to something lurking and hiding in the darkness ahead. The soil beneath Cragmarr''s feet felt wrong—tainted and sick. He could sense the corruption spreading through the root systems below, a cancer in the forest''s flesh.


    Cragmarr stepped into a clearing, his marble eyes focusing using the moonlight on the carnage before him. Limbs and torsos lay scattered across the blood-soaked earth. He recognized the golden armor of the Samurai caravan, now torn and crushed. The stench of death mixed with the sickly-sweet rot of Blight corruption.


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    He moved through the bodies methodically, searching. His clay fingers sifted through the remains while his connection to the earth told him the Blight''s presence had weakened. A fierce battle had taken place here.


    Behind an animal carcass, he found what he sought. Fused flesh and bone rose from the ground like a twisted sculpture. Human skulls and body parts merged with thick roots and fungal growth. At its center, a face—more monster than humanoid—stared back at him with glowing orange eyes. Tendrils of root and muscle weakly reached for him.


    Help me... The thought pierced his mind, full of pain and hunger.


    Cragmarr cradled the head in his four hands as the tentacles tried to feed on his clay form, finding no sustenance. The creature''s agony flowed through their mental connection.


    "I am sorry, brother," Cragmarr said softly. "You can rest now. Your suffering ends here."


    He swiftly crushed the corrupted head between his clay palms, causing a crunching noise and an explosion of gore that splattered against his rocky torso. The orange light in its eyes flickered like dying embers, a haunting reminder of their shared essence, before fading to dull black pools. A final psychic whimper echoed through their connection as the creature''s tortured existence ended.


    The tendrils drooped away like wilted vines, but they did not die. Mindlessly, they would continue to scavenge for flesh ravenously. That was the curse of the Blight.


    ***


    By morning, Cragmarr stood at the edge of the massive pit he''d spent hours digging. The bodies of fallen Samurai warriors and servants lay stacked alongside the twisted remains of the Blighted creature, which still wriggled like hungry worms. His clay hands still bore the stains of earth and corruption from his grim task.


    "I cannot give you the proper rites, brother. The Blight must be cleansed completely." His orange marble eyes dimmed with sadness as he gazed down at the grotesque mass of flesh and wood that had once been another Golem.


    Drawing a Jingozi card, Cragmarr infused it with Zii until flames danced along its edges.


    "Brother, return to the earth that gave and still gives us life," he said in ancient words in the language of stone and soil, a dialect forgotten by all but the oldest of his kind. "May your essence flow pure once more through the roots of your ancestors."


    The card dropped from his fingers, spinning as it fell. When it touched the bodies, orange flames erupted, quickly consuming everything in the pit.


    The high-pitched wailing started, piercing through the morning air as the corrupted tendrils writhed in their death throes. Cragmarr''s clay shoulders tensed at the sound. No matter how often he''d performed this duty over his long existence, that noise still made his stone core shudder.


    The squealing grew higher, more frantic. The tendrils thrashed against the flames, their movements becoming increasingly erratic as the fire consumed them. Black smoke carried the stench of burning corruption into the air.


    Cragmarr remained rooted in place, forcing himself to witness the end. He owed his fallen brother that much, at least. The screaming reached a fever pitch, making his marble eyes vibrate in their sockets.


    ***


    Cragmarr knelt by the stream, his four hands working methodically to scrub the gore and corruption from his clay skin. The water turned dark where it touched him, carrying away bits of ash and death. But the sticky residue of the Blight clung stubbornly to the rocky outcrops across his form.


    He dipped his large hands into the current, watching rivulets trace paths between the stones in his forearms. The process was slow, methodical—and deeply unsettling.


    After a moment, Cragmarr turned toward the distant camp where he''d left the Samurai and the boy. Through his connection to the earth, he sensed their presence—the child''s footsteps were stronger now, no longer the weak shuffling of earlier. The warrior, too, seemed steady enough.


    "Yukiko will be pleased," Cragmarr muttered, returning to his washing. With the Blight cleansed from this area, they would be safe to continue their journey once they regained their strength.


    He submerged his arms again, letting the cool water flow over his clay form. It would have to be enough—he couldn''t spend all day trying to remove every trace.


    Lifting his gaze to the morning sky, he noted the sun''s position. His thoughts turned to Ember.


    He calculated the distance a Steed Golem could cover based on the hoof prints he''d tracked earlier. She would have reached Raishoto by now, facing whatever awaited her. Though every fiber of his being urged him to help, he knew interfering with her trials as her ward was forbidden.


    "Stay strong, Em," he whispered into the wind.


    His long legs carried him swiftly through the trees as he began to run, each stride covering ground that would take others several steps to cross. The forest blurred around him as he picked up speed.