The Day I Turned To Stone

Chapter 3

So who were they? I questioned, watching as Melantha continued to gather ingredients for whatever strange brew she was working on.

She paused mid-reach, fingers hovering over a cluster of glowing berries before turning to me. "Lizardmen," she said simply. "They're usually harmless, but something's stirred them up lately. I only managed to summon you at the last minute."

If I'd still had real eyes, I would've narrowed them. Speaking of which... what did you do to me earlier?

Melantha grinned and waved a hand dismissively. "Did you think I could keep you around all the time? Mighty selfish of you, Garvel."

I snorted, the sound echoing from my mind like a rolling stone. Selfish? How could wanting to be alive be selfish?

Her smile faded as she turned to face me fully. "I'm powerful, but not that powerful," she said quietly. "It takes a lot of magic to keep something like you bound to this plane—a creature made of both earth and spirit. Every minute you stay, it drains me."

I paused and stared at her for a long moment before answering. I didn't know.

"I know." Her reply was soft but final. She ducked beneath an overturned tree, her voice muffled as she rummaged through roots and moss. A few moments later she emerged, dirt-smudged and grinning, a handful of berries clutched in her palm.

"But it's alright," she said, holding one up between her fingers. "Do you know what these are?"

She was good at changing the subject—I had to give her that. I shook my massive, stony head in response, the motion scattering bits of dust from my shoulders.

A faint shimmer pulsed from her open palm. The berries glowed with an otherworldly light, soft and steady like captured starlight beneath their translucent red skins.

"These," she began, twirling one between her fingers, "are Luminis sanguinae—or, if you prefer the, glowthorn berries. They're rare this far south."

She tilted the berry toward me, the light spilling over her features, catching on the sharp lines of her cheekbones. "Used mostly in strength and health tonics. A few drops of their extract can mend bruises, restore stamina... or keep something like you from crumbling apart too soon."

Her gaze flicked up to mine, that same teasing spark hiding behind her calm tone. "So, you see? Even stones need a little tending."

I shifted, the stone along my shoulders grinding faintly as I moved. The words crumbling apart sat heavy in my chest. I didn't like the way she said it—too casual, like it was bound to happen sooner or later.

I looked down at the red glowing berry in her hand, its light painting strange reflections across my rough skin. For a moment, I wondered if that's all I was to her—another project to maintain, something fragile pretending to be strong.

Melantha didn't seem to notice my unease. She popped one of the berries into her mouth and smiled faintly as the glow dimmed on her tongue.

"There," she said, brushing her fingers against her lips. "I should have enough mana to keep you around a little longer."

She grinned up at me with that same childlike manner I'd seen countless times before, as if we weren't standing in a forest littered with broken branches and scorched moss.

So... why were the lizardmen after you? I asked cautiously.

Melantha's grin faltered for the briefest moment before she turned away, tucking the remaining berries into her satchel. "That," she said lightly, "depends on who you ask. Some would say it's because I trespassed. Others might say it's because I took something that wasn't mine."

She glanced over her shoulder, her eyes catching the faint glimmer of the glowthorn light. "And I suppose a few might even say it's because I killed their priest."

You killed their priest? I echoed, the words slipping out before I could stop them.

She didn't seem the type to kill anyone—too quick to laugh, too bright-eyed, too alive. But then again, I didn't really know her, did I? Not enough to say what she would or wouldn't do when pressed.

Melantha only shrugged, the corner of her mouth twitching as if she found my shock amusing.

"All in good time my darling, Garvel. Wouldn't want to give away all my secrets now would I?"

I suppose not, but doesn't mean I won't be curious

I watched as she dug through the moss, her fingers brushing aside roots with a delicate care that belied her mischievous grin.

So, I rumbled, letting my voice catch on the uneven connection beneath us, about those knights earlier... who were they? And why did they look at me like I was a walking threat?

Melantha laughed a crystalline sound and bobbed back on her heels. "Because you are. You're a formidable creature that not many people have the privilege of seeing."

I rumbled, shifting the weight in my shoulders, letting the dust fall from my stony form. "

Formidable, huh? Is that why the knights were staring at me like I'd swallowed their village whole?

Melantha tilted her head, considering, her grin never fading. "Ah. Well... They're... persistent, I'll give them that. Always poking around, always watching. But it's complicated."

Complicated how? I pressed, leaning closer despite the stone my size. Do they just want to fight, or are they... after you?

She hummed softly, a note of amusement in her voice. "Perhaps a bit of both. Perhaps something else entirely. Wouldn't you like to find out?"

I shook my head slowly, letting the dust fall from my shoulders. I'm curious about them, I rumbled, voice low and rough, but not for the reasons you might think.

Melantha arched an eyebrow, the teasing sparkle in her eyes sharpening. "Oh? Do tell, Garvel. I'm dying of curiosity here."

I took a deep, uneven breath, or rather shifted in a similar manner as the stone along my shoulders ground faintly. Because... I wasn't always like this. I said, gesturing to my stony form. I... I died once. In another world. A place that was nothing like this one. And now... now I'm here. In this body. This form. You brought me here, Melantha, and... I don't even know why I'm still me.

Her grin softened, just slightly, the glimmer of her usual childlike teasing giving way to something quieter. She stepped closer, and I could see the faint shimmer of magic clinging to the tips of her fingers. "Ah... so that explains the weight in your voice. And the curiosity in your eyes."

I let my gaze drift over the forest around us, the shadows stretching long and curling over broken branches, the faint glow of remaining berries painting streaks of light across moss and stone. That... is why I'm curious about those knights. Because I've seen one of them before. Not like this—not armored, not in this forest—but as a human. The crooked-tooth boy. I knew him in my old life, back when I... well, back when I lived.

Melantha's expression sharpened in interest, though her tone stayed calm. "I see. So it's not the knights themselves that draw you—it's him. But you don't know why he's here. Or what's changed."

I gave a low rumble, a sound that was part sigh, part question. My stone chest creaked faintly as I shifted my weight. Exactly. And I... I don't know if I want to find out. But curiosity... it won't leave me alone.

Her grin returned, softer now, contemplative. "Curiosity can be a dangerous thing... but also a powerful guide."

For a moment, silence fell between us. The forest seemed to hold its breath, only the faint hum of magic from the glowthorn berries in her bag and the distant rustle of leaves breaking the stillness. I could feel the energy in me, the strange warmth beneath the stone, pulsing with the faint echo of my old life, memories half-buried and half-sharp, like shards of glass pressing against the inside of my mind.

Melantha tilted her head, watching me, eyes narrowing ever so slightly. "You weren't meant to die like that," she murmured softly, almost to herself. "And yet, here you are. And yet... somehow, you remember."

I rumbled in acknowledgment, though the sound was heavy with more than agreement. I remember enough to know that seeing him again... seeing him there in that armor, in that forest... it's confusing. And unsettling.

A faint breeze stirred, carrying with it the earthy scent of moss and damp soil. Melantha crouched near a patch of luminescent moss, running her fingers along it as if testing its resilience. "Then perhaps," she said, voice thoughtful, "your curiosity isn't just about him. It's about understanding why you're here at all. Why I summoned a golem and you took its place."

I looked at her then, really looked, taking in the mischievous tilt of her mouth, the faint smear of dirt along her cheek, the quiet intensity in her bright eyes. And do you know the answer to that? I asked, my voice softer now, almost hesitant.

Her smile returned, small and knowing. "Not yet," she admitted. "But... I intend to find out. And I think," she added, a flicker of amusement in her tone, "that you'll help me, whether you like it or not."

I rumbled something that might have been a chuckle—or maybe a low warning. I suppose I will, I said. But it won't be easy. For either of us.

Melantha laughed then, a crystalline sound that bounced off the trees. "I wouldn't have it any other way, Garvel. Tell me— as my sentient stone golem, what would you have us do? Break into the Kingdom of Evrihal and their order? Kidnap a few guards for questioning?"

I shook my head at her blatant childishness. Nothing of the sort, Melly. But I won't deny I'd like a few answers myself.

She gives a small pouty face though her smile in her eyes lingers. "Awe, Garvel you're no fun."

I sighed inwardly and turned away to look where the lizardmen had retreated into the forest. Her eyes followed my gaze, "They wont be back. Lizardmen never fight what they can't take on. The risk is higher than the reward. Such is the way of the world."

I was actually thinking about what you said, I began slowly. How it takes more magic to keep me here for longer periods of time than you have.... I paused, choosing my next words with care, weighing each before I spoke. At the risk of sounding selfish again, is there any way to remedy it?

Melantha tilted her head, violet eyes scanning me up and down before she gave a small shake of her head. "I'm honestly not sure. This is a first for me. Normally, golems are mindless automatons—they carry out specific tasks, then slumber until they're called upon again."

A chill ran through me—or as close to one as I could feel. So I'm... different?

She nodded, a soft smile curving her lips, as if to comfort me. "Well, I'd say you're the first golem of any kind with a soul attached."

I suppose I already knew that, I murmured inwardly. If I wasn't a soul bound to stone, what else could I be?

Still, hearing her say it out loud sent a faint tremor through me. Not fear exactly—something smaller, quieter. The way you might flinch when touching the scar of an old wound.

So this is what I've become... not gone, but not living either.

Melantha's smile wavered for only a heartbeat before she exhaled through her nose, her lips quirking again. "Well, look on the bright side—at least you don't have to eat, sleep, or deal with blisters. I'd call that an upgrade."

If I could've rolled my eyes, I would have. You're terrible at consolation, you know that?

She grinned wider, clearly pleased with herself. "Oh, I know. But it works, doesn't it?"

The rest of the day passed in a blur as I assisted her with menial tasks while she gathered the last of her ingredients. She often stopped to excitedly show me some curious plant or bug she'd found along the way. As dusk crept over the forest, she stretched with a yawn far too wide for her small face. I caught a glimpse of sharp canines I hadn't noticed before—but I made no remark.

Perhaps I was imagining it, I thought, though the image lingered. There was always something slightly other about her—too bright, too quick, as if the world itself bent to her pace. Still, I said nothing. Some questions were best left for morning.

"Imagining what?" Melantha pipes up with a chipper voice despite the tired look on her face. I shook my head cursing myself for being so open with my thoughts. I needed to learn how to control this tele-speech skill.

You seem exhausted. I suppose it's time to head back? I smoothly changed the subject, but the look on her face told me she wouldn't let me off the hook so easily.

To my surprise, she skipped toward me, eyes wide and pleading like a puppy.

"Give me a ride home, Garvel."

I raised an eyebrow, resisting the urge to sigh. This is exactly why I shouldn't have offered to help her today.

Do you really expect me to scoop you up like some kind of enchanted backpack? I asked, letting a trace of amusement creep into my tone.

Her grin only widened, and she leaned forward slightly, the kind of mischievous tilt that made it impossible to say no. "Exactly like that. Please?"

I shook my head, feeling the weight of inevitability settle over me. Fine. Just try to hang on tight.

With a reluctant groan, I bent slightly, letting her clamber onto my back. Her warmth pressed against me, light and surprisingly solid despite the oddness of it all. She giggled, clearly delighted with the situation, and I felt the faintest tug of... something. Familiar, almost like memory brushing against stone.

"Hold on tight," I muttered, stepping carefully through the undergrowth.