48
Milo stared down at the pieces of a rifle.
Not his new one.
One he’d been issued from the Armory. As a mage, he was entitled to have one.
Trying not to be grumpy about it, he took it down to the Workshop and promptly started pulling it apart. He found it mostly resembled the dwarven one he’d made.
One assumption Milo had made when he’d started dabbling in golems and dwarven components was that the human versions were inferior. It seemed strange to him that this would be the case.
It was clear when he looked at the human rifle that it was made by imitating the dwarven one. So, why should it be less powerful? If anything, it should have been more powerful as surely there would have been improvements over the years.
All the basic components were the same except for one.
A copper coil wound around the handle of the rifle. He’d assumed it was mostly for grip. But now he knew it was to connect the hand of the mage wielding the rifle to the crystal within.
The crystal, connected with small pins to copper wires, was tucked into a small container covered in human runes.
Their purpose was clear.
Limit the power of the weapon. And check if the wielder of the weapon was capable of storing mana.
“It’s a conspiracy,” Milo growled, tossing a little screwdriver over his shoulder for Clack to nip out of the air and return to the wall. “Stupid mages.”
“I don’t get it,” Tania admitted. “What kinda racket are they running where they wanna keep ya all weak like that?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “Maybe they don’t want us to get too strong. I mean, I see why the rifles are like this. Fighting all those mages only proved they’re not capable of casting for too long individually. Which is why they like to work in teams.”
“It was a bit easy peasy,” she said. “I thought it’d be harder.”
“Me too. They’re always telling us how strong they are.
” He shook his head. “But imagine if a normal person got hold of a rifle. And they could just reload it by flipping out cartridges. That one person could kill a mage quicker than the mage could kill them. So, that’s at least why they make the rifles so only mages can use them. ”
“That makes sense.” Tania frowned. “But why let them use one in the first place? I know a lot of mages ain’t using magic as their first choice. They use swords and rifles.”
“But they still believe they’re superior because they can use magic.
” He pointed at the crystal. “Also, they make sure rifles aren’t powerful enough to kill a lot of large dungeon creatures so mages still think their magic is what makes them special.
They trust that as a fact. At the end of the day there isn’t a mage alive who doesn’t think that magic is the apex.
The only problem with it is they can’t cast fast enough, so they become obsessed with searching for bigger cores for their wands.
So they can cast longer and with stronger magic. ”
“But why?” Tania leaned forward eagerly, her eyes wide and a grin starting to form. “Do you think there’s a bunch of creepy mooks behind it all?”
He pursed his lips and ran his fingers through his hair.
He was tired.
It’d been a long day. They’d been the last to leave the dungeons; the only team to actively try to clean out all the rebels. Of course, Milo hadn’t mentioned he’d also cleaned out the loyalists.
With his golems, he’d cleaned out the entire Keep of every mage he could find.
Giving them experience with mages of all kinds. Until, finally, they’d gone to the courtyard and found the dungeon’s version of a Headmaster waiting to send them back through the curtain.
Milo glanced at the Headmaster’s badge which lay on his workbench with some other small trophies Tania had collected.
Even the Headmaster hadn’t proved too difficult.
“No,” Milo said at last. “I think it’s just how they decided to protect the Republic.
The scenario was a lesson in that. They wanted everyone to see what happens when mage fights mage.
That it’s messy. Ugly. You saw the faces of the other students.
They were all messed up by it. Do you think any of them wants to see a rebellion happen again? ”
“It weren’t that bad,” Tania said.
“Because we had an advantage they didn’t. But they’re all just young mages struggling to make it through a warzone in one piece. A warzone with the familiar walls of their home.” He nodded as he became sure this was the lesson he was meant to learn. “It was supposed to make it feel personal.”
“Doesn’t that mean mages are just a bunch of dumb clucks?”
He let out a chuckle at her words and shrugged. “Could be.”
“So, what are we gonna do about it?”
“Do?” He blinked at her. “You know, I don’t know. I have to think about it.”
“Well, you’re the brains, Milo.” She leaned in and booped his nose. Her smile was pretty. “You just tell us tomatoes what to do. If you want us to crash their party, we’ll do it.”
He stared up into her eyes and gulped lightly.
Nodded.
“Thanks, Tania.”
“You’re welcome, sweetie.” She snatched the hem of her skirt. “Now. Ya wanna see my coochie?”
“Get off me.” He pushed her back, which only made her giggle.
“One day, you’re gonna be all over me, buster. I can tell.”
He didn’t say anything. Instead he dropped off his stool and trudged quietly back to his cubicle. He felt confused by the whole thing. The way she teased him.
The way his body responded to it.
“They’re too pretty,” he muttered. “They should be more like the other golems. All metal and stuff.”
But if they were, he wouldn’t have been able to do dungeons with them.
They’d have to remain hidden in the lower halls.
He’d still be sweeping.
Dusting.
Cleaning glass.
The problem was they looked and felt too real. He had to constantly remind himself they were made of metal, wire, and cores. That they were technological constructs. Like clocks.
But also not like clocks because they could act human.
And it was all just an act.
Wasn’t it?
How could a golem actually feel anything?
And why did he care if she did or didn’t?
As he stepped into the common room, he saw a few familiar faces. One or two waved at him and he waved back. Something they wouldn’t have done not too long ago.
Fergus ignored him.
But it wasn’t a cold kind of ignoring. It was a smug one. Beside him, Fulka glared at Milo. He wanted to wave at her just to see how they’d all react.
Instead, he ignored them and went into his room.
Closed the door.
And dropped onto his bed.
His head was buzzing with the echoes of hours of intense thinking. He was exhausted, but his mind wasn’t calm enough to sleep. It kept circling the last part of his conversation with Tania.
And then the mood in the common room.
Before he’d proven himself by doing dungeons, everyone had either bullied or ignored him. Now, they were starting to wave and sometimes even smile. Some tried conversations.
He wondered why they did that.
What were their true feelings towards him?
A quiet rattle made him look up and he saw Click drop down from the ducts. The little spider golem almost tripped over itself as it rushed to greet him.
He reached down and gently patted its shell as it offered what it was holding in its arms.
An apple.
The little golem had brought him an apple.
Plucking it out of the golem’s arms, he smiled at it. “Thanks, Click.”
The spider golem shivered, its gears whirring like the purr of a cat as he petted its metal shell again.
Click. His first golem.
This was what he’d believed he would build. A metallic construction distinctly different from himself. Not a strange facsimile of the human experience.
The golem’s gears clattered.
Then it raced back up the wall out into the ducting, its mission of bringing him an apple complete.
Thoughtfully, Milo bit into the crisp apple. It was sweet. Juicy, even.
He hadn’t asked for the apple. Why had it brought one? What had prompted it to steal one from the Mess for him?
“Clocks can’t think,” he murmured. “So, they can’t feel.”
That sounded right to his ears. It sounded right to his gut.
But clocks couldn’t talk, either. They couldn’t hold a conversation. They couldn’t smile. They couldn’t lift the hem of their skirt to show their underwear. They couldn’t tease. They couldn’t laugh.
Which only left him wrestling again with the same thought over and over.
If it looked, felt, and sounded like a human, was it a human?
“Argh,” he growled, flinging the apple core at a small bin by the door. Clack jumped out of nowhere, little arms snatching the apple core and gripping it tight.
Milo raised an eyebrow and smiled.
“I didn’t hear you that time,” he said to the spider golem.
Clack shivered and crept up the wall to gently drop the apple core into the bin. Then it scurried away with a cheerful purr of gears.