On the Production of Golems
The horn blares throughout the town awaking Ambrosio from his nap. This particular horn meant the arrival of the Vassilias. Ambrosio startles, rushing out of bed. Eternal wasn’t due here for another two months, they didn’t have a single golem ready. If Eternal was expecting three readied golems, it was his head on the line. Ambrosio didn’t even have time to change as he rushes down the steps to meet the Vassilias, wearing clothes that fit a commoner, not a prince. Ambrosio arrives at the edge of the bride as Eternal steps out of his carriage. Today he was wearing his gold and purple robe, but he looks less royal than usual. His hair slightly unfurled, he looks almost tired.
“Ambrosio.” His voice rang out sternly.
“Yes, my lord?” Ambrosio says as he steps forward and bows. He is petrified. Why would his father be here, what could he possibly want? Eternal never drops by unexpectedly.
“I’m stopping here on my way to my other golem facilities. I do not expect to return for some time.” He said his mind obviously preoccupied. “I’m suspecting this will last at least a few years, and I will not be stopping my work to return and wake your golems-”
“Bu-” Ambrosio began. The Vasilasas snaps his attention from his mind, focusing intently on his son. Time seemed to slow as a flicker of anger passed through Eternals’ eyes.
“You,” Eternal says firmly, “must learn some amount of initiative and solve this problem yourself.” and he turns towards the carriage.
Ambrosio took in a deep breath and dared to question the Vassilias.
“Sir we cannot-” he starts. Eternal spins around to face Ambrosio. He cocks his head and stares for a moment. Something about his own son daring to speak to him like this, for the first time in centuries, he was almost angry. But it only affirmed the necessity of his return to his laboratory.
“I’m sorry,” Ambrosio continues terrified. No one had ever dared speak to the Vassilias like this, but he couldn’t let him leave with the only source of income his people had. “But you can’t, I can’t leave these people to starve. We have no other way to provide food and shelter.” Eternal takes a step towards his defiant son. He looks him in the eyes and says in a deep whisper,
“I could burn this tiny little town to the ground because of your insolence,” He reaches out and grabs Ambrosio’s arm.
“Please,” barely escapes Ambrosio’s lips. A purple glow radiates from Eternal’s hand. Ambrosio lets out a small cry of pain as Eternal’s flames wrap around his arm. People in the city watch from their homes as their leader falls to his knees as Eternal holds his arm in the air. The pain was blinding, as his father burns him. After only a few seconds Eternal lets go and leaves in his carriage. Ambrosio stays kneeling on the ground for a moment, defeated. His town was doomed.
“Sir,” A sweet voice interrupts. “Are you alright sir?” she asks. It is Caitlin, the sweet girl who tends to his hearth. She was the only one in town who knew his relation to Eternal. Before he could answer, she bends down and grabs his uninjured arm to help him up. She carefully walks him to his home.
She sits him down and goes to get supplies to tend to the wound. Ambrosio looks down to see a throbbing bleeding burn, in the shape of a hand, stretching across his arm. The pain was seething, but his thoughts are focused on another problem. Caitlin comes back holding bandages and a washcloth. As she begins tending to his wound she asks, “What in the world happened, sir? Why was the Vassilias here?”
“He... he's leaving, and we won't be able to wake golems without him.” The girl shudders, she knew what this meant. They relied on the golems to be sold and bring money back to the town. Money to pay their salaries and feed them.
“What are we gonna do…?” She says. Ambrosio knows he had to do something and fast.