Mark of the Fool

Selina was tingling with excitement as she took the stairs two at a time. From somewhere behind and above her, she vaguely heard Shiani calling her name.

“Selina, be careful you don’t fall down the stairs!” She warned. “Your brother will kill me if you do!”

“I’m fine!” Selina shouted back undeterred, now stubbornly taking the stairs three at a time.

She hit the ground at a sprint, rushing into the courtyard and skidding to a halt, her shoes scraping along the cobblestones. She was gaping again, her eyes bulging at the sight of the reborn Claygon striding forward with a new body of shining marble.

“Oh by the Traveller!” She gasped, hands pressing to her cheeks. “He’s so beautiful! Look how beautiful you are!”

In all of the many times—and there were many—that she’d imagined what Claygon might look like if he evolved, she’d never thought he’d look like this. Sometimes she imagined him as grey stone, sometimes as the same red coloured stone that Alex had said existed in the Barrens.

But never, ever had she thought of stunning, smoothly, polished white marble; she was so transfixed by his glorious form, she didn’t notice when he stopped dead in his tracks to stare at her.

She also didn’t notice her brother walk up to her, waving his hands wildly while calling her name.

“Selina! Selina!” He shouted, snapping his fingers in front of her nose. “Alex to Selinaaaaa! Come back from the next plane, Selinaaa!”

“Argh!” She yelped, finally noticing he, Theresa, Khalik, Brutus and Najyah were surrounding her. “When did you get here?”

Alex gave her a withering look and sighed, looking at Theresa. “I swear, one little golem evolution and you’re suddenly invisible to your own flesh and blood. Truly, no one has ever suffered like I have!”

“Ah, Alex,” Prince Khalik cleared his throat. “Considering what happened in Greymoor, perhaps your uh…timing with that joke is a little…”

“Ah.” Alex winced. “I see what you’re saying. And—Selina?”

The young girl had left the circle, walking toward Claygon as though she was entranced. “Alex…Alex what happened to him? Oh, by the Traveller?”

As Shiani ran down the stairs to join them, Selina was circling Claygon, eyeing him from his feet to the top of his head. Her gaze lingered on the high gleam coming from his fire-gems.

They drew her eyes like the flame had.

…she could feel something emanating from him, similar to what she’d felt when Shiani had cast her spell.

‘Fire mana?’ She wondered as she noticed something odd.

His head was following her as she circled him, like he was watching her as intently as she was watching him. His lower hands twitched as though wanting to reach out to her, but something was making him hesitate.

Selina frowned at Alex, who—for some reason—had a big, stupid grin on his face like he was keeping the most amusing secret in the world to himself.

“Why are you making Claygon do that?” She asked. “You’re being weird, Alex.”

For a moment, Alex’s eye glazed over and his head cocked to the side as though he was hearing something that only he could hear.

“No, no,” he said gently. “You’re not being weird, she just thinks I’m being weird.”

Selina frowned, looking at Khalik and Theresa—who were also smiling at her as though her birthday present was about to be revealed—but neither said a word.

“Who’re you talking to?” She asked her brother, her frown deepening. “You’re being weird and crazy again. Are you talking to yourself?”

Claygon’s hand rose, waving at heras though he was denying her words.

Alex burst out laughing. “No, no I don't look weird and crazy! Yes, it’s funnier this way! Yes, yes this is also humour!”

“Oh dear, Selina,” Khalik said, his bearded face a mask of concern. “It would seem that your brother has lost his mind. It is a shame really. From my house to yours, I offer my deepest condolences.”

“I hope you have the strength to take care of your brother when he’s chewing leather and chasing birds on all fours.” Theresa gave the biggest, fakest sob that Selina had ever heard. “I’ll be there in spirit!”

Her face fell into her hands, her body shuddering with both fake crying and very real laughter. Brutus looked at his master curiously for a moment before dropping to his haunches and raising his heads toward the sky.

The cerberus howled at the sun like a wolf who’d lost his entire pack to poachers. Even Najyah began to screech and cry, circling Alex like a vulture who’d found a tasty bit of carrion to leisurely pick apart.

Selina was growing even more confused, alarmed and annoyed with every heartbeat. She looked to Shiani for some semblance of sanity, but the fire mage was staring at the chuckling Khalik, the laugh-crying Theresa, and the rambling Alex like they’d all lost their minds.

Slowly, the young girl looked up at the balcony, finding Malcolm watching the scene with a bored expression.

“What? Don’t look at me?” The ice wizard shouted. “I dunno, but if he’s mad, break his knee and run away or something.”

Claygon looked at Malcolm sharply.

“Ah, yeah, that’s right,” Alex said to seemingly no one. “That’s more humour. See? You’re learning already.”

“What’re you talking about, who’re you talking to?” Selina demanded, wondering if she should break her brother’s knee.

“Alright, alright,” Alex said, looking at Claygon. “I’ve had my fun. Time to stop the tortutre. Let that be a lesson: sometimes something starts out funny, but if it goes on for too long, the joke becomes just plain cruel and tragic. So, let’s avoid that, shall we? Here.”

He took a pen and notebook from his satchel, flipped it open and walked over to the golem with an expectant smile on his face. “Here you go, buddy.”

Claygon gently took the pen and notebook between his fingers, setting the book on one of his lower palms. Selina watched as he used his palm as a writing surface.

His index finger and thumb gently cradled the pen and he began writing slowly.

Selina watched, mesmerised, looking between her brother and the golem they’d built together. But Alex just kept smiling at her like a fat cat who’d drunk all the cream in the kitchen.

It was…strange, now that she actually thought about what was going on.

Normally, when Alex gave Claygon silent directions, he usually had a distant expression on his face. And…

“Wait, how are you telling Claygon how to write stuff if you can’t see…what…he’s…do…i…” Her voice trailed off as Alex’s grin grew wider, her head slowly turned back to the golem.

He was looking down at the notebook as though paying strict attention to what he was doing.

And then…

It hit her.

“Can you…can you think?” She asked, blinking in disbelief. “Are you doing that writing on your own, Claygon?”

There was a short nod from the golem that made her gasp, and then he looked up, turning the notebook to face her.

Hello. Selina. I am Claygon. I am happy to see you.

Selina screamed.

She screamed so loudly, that it sent Brutus into long mournful howls again, startled Najyah, who veered off her path and spiralled downward to crash into Khalik in a tangle of squawking, flapping wings, flying feathers and shouting wizard.

But Selina didn’t notice.

“You’re…oh my goodness, you can think! You can write! Claaaaaygooooon!”

She leapt at him.

Selina sailed through the air, arms spread wide as the golem scrambled to drop his war-spear, his notebook, and his pen to catch the flying younger Roth sibling.

In a heartbeat she found herself wrapped in hard, warm marble arms, holding her as gently as a newborn. She hugged the golem like he was the biggest, softest deepest, well of comfort she’d ever known.

The young girl had never felt stone that warm before, and not just warm from heat coursing through it like smooth stone kissed by hours of sunlight, but warm in another way.

A comforting way.

Claygon’s warmth reminded Selina of winter fires and roasting chestnuts in Thameland. Of baking cakes and hot apple cider. Of warm bonfires and summer nights, and of the warmth of her parents’ hands as they held hers.

It reminded her of the days when fire was just beautiful; when her father had to pull her hand away from the fireplace because she kept reaching toward the flame. It was one of her first memories, and she’d forgotten it until now.

That memory was all warmth, free of guilt and the horror of burning alehouses. Claygon was warmth in the same way.

“Welcome to the family, Claygon,” she whispered. “I’m so glad you can finally hear me. …did you like the books I read you?”

The golem stiffened for a moment, then bent down and scooped up his pen and notebook with his lower arms. Selina pulled her face away from Claygon’s torso, pausing in surprise.

His chest was wet. But then again, so was her face.

She hadn’t noticed the tears running down her cheeks.

‘Stop being such a little girl,’ she scolded herself, wiping away tears and watching as Claygon slowly wrote letters in the notebook.

Yes. I liked your reading. Remember the books. Made me feel warm.

And then there was no use in wiping her tears away.

###

“Claygon almost died?” Selina cried, nearly falling off of the golem’s lap. “What? Oh no!”

“Yeah, it was really scary, Selina,” Alex said grimly, sipping a cup of pine needle tea and leaning back in his chair. “Really terrifying. When that beam hit him, I thought he was going to turn to stone and break apart. But no…he changed instead. He turned to stone, alright, but he got stronger than ever. And—later that night—that’s when he started thinking on his own, talking—”

“It’s not fair that only you get to talk to him, by the way,” she complained, looking up at Claygon. “Smash him, will you?”

The golem froze, his hand wrote another message in the notebook lying on the table before them. I can’t smash father. Don’t smash father, Selina. Sad.

She sighed. “Fiiiiiine, but I’m just glad you’re alive.” She patted him on one of his thick, stone arms.

The golem leaned toward her touch happily.

She giggled.

Alex looked at Claygon curiously. “Huh, that’s interesting. You know, what’s odd, every time someone’s threatened me with violence, even as a joke, Claygon’s gotten a little testy about it. But you seem calm right now, buddy. Even happy.”

Her brother’s face turned blank for a moment, then he nodded. “Ooooh, that’s why.”

“What’d he say? What’d he say?” Selina pushed.

“Yeah what did he say?” Theresa asked from across the room. The huntress was kneeling in front of Brutus’ huge food bowl, filling it with slices of warm meat. The cerberus stared at the bowl, drool pooled on the floor.

“Well, he said that he doesn’t want ‘Selina and father’ to fight, and that he knows we wouldn’t hurt each other,” Alex said. “All in all, a bit boring of an assessment, isn’t it? What happened to the drama of siblings locked in deadly battles of succession, struggling over inheritance with daggers—”

“Okay, I’m just going to ignore you if you’re going to be weird,” Selina said. “Why is he calling you father and me Selina? I helped build him, he should call me mother.”

A look passed over Alex’s face. “That…that would be super weird, Selina.”

“Why? Oh ew! Ew! You’re right, gross, gross, gross! Forget I ever said that!” Her skin crawled, as she shuddered in disgust.

Theresa burst out laughing, spilling beef on the floor. Brutus snatched it up.

“Thank the Traveller,” Alex said. “Claygon said that I’m his father because he’s connected to me. He said you’re Selina because you’re part of the family and you made him too. He said he could call you ‘Creator’, if you’d like?”

“No, ‘Selina’ sounds nicer than ‘Creator’,” she said. “Maybe he can call me teacher. I’m still learning, but I’m going to teach you so much stuff, Claygon!”

Claygon wrote in his notebook: I like that. Makes me feel warm.

Her smile deepened. “I like that, and it makes me feel warm too.”