Fresh Air

For the following weeks, I continued training under the tutelage of Master Croghan. He was no martial artist, but even if he were, I’d have my doubts he could understand how it feels to move in a body like mine. However, his instruction against monsters was superb. He was not called a Master Mage for nothing.

He introduced me to other types of monsters to train against.

There were undines; feminine, slime-like monsters who attacked with impressive range. On the other hand were the male ifrits, who presented with lava-like bodies and who could take on hits like they were nothing. For these more “elemental” types of creatures, the only way to kill them was to destroy the core at their center.

In my time training there I learned some things about this world.

First of all, it was called Mene. It contrasted with what they called Gaia, my world. Apparently, I am not the first otherworlder here, and I will not be the last. Sometimes we just appear, for one reason or another. Some are reincarnated into Mene as babies, others cross strange portals they found in the middle of nowhere, and others just all of a sudden find themselves in this world all of a sudden.

Another thing that I’ve come to learn is that they use monsters for warfare. They do not exactly tame them, as monsters are incapable of reason, but a skilled enough mage can hypnotize them to a degree. With that they just throw the monsters in the general direction they want destroyed and then try to stay out of their way.

Then there was me. A golem.

There were golems already in this world, but they had artificial souls incapable of thought, and furthermore, were bound to specific locations. Master Croghan had some guarding his tower, but as I had come to learn, they were not keen on conversation.

I was a special case. I was the soul of an otherworlder placed into the body of a golem.

In other words, I was a ReConstruct.

“You’ve done well in today’s training,” said Master Croghan. “That is good, that is good.”

“Thank you, Master Croghan,” I said.

Apprentice Sybille walked over to my side.

“Hey, I know!” she said. “We should give him a reward! For encouragement!”

“Hmm,” scoffed Master Croghan. “What is there that a golem could desire? If he insists on that thing he called a jet-pack, the design is still a few ways off.”

“Well?” said Sybille. “Bastion, is there something you would want?”

Bastion.

That was the nickname she had given me. At least, it was an upgrade from Number BS-8.

“I think,” I said, “I would like to breathe again. If I had a proper nose and some space in my chest, I could flow some air, maybe. A mouth too, would be best.”

Master Croghan raised an eyebrow.

“And just why would you want to do that?” he said.

“It would feel nice.”

He scratched his head.

“Master!” said Sybille. “Bastion is hard at work training for you. And then they say that morale is important for any soldier! This does not sound very hard to do, and it could improve his morale! What do you think?”

“Hmph,” said Master Croghan. “Very well. You do it, Apprentice Sybille. I have other matters to attend to.”

He turned around and left the training grounds, leaving me behind with his apprentice. Sybille, meanwhile, cheered with a double fist pump as she smiled.

“Yes!” she said. “Alright, hang in there, Bastion. Let’s get you down to the workshop so we can get started, okay?”

“Okay.”

***

Sybille hammered down a thick nail up my face, striking with a hammer, as she tried to go and sculp my nose cavity, as well as a movable piece for my jaw.

I was sitting on the ground as she did that. To be precise, my head was. It was detachable with the right spell. My body was laying across on the ground beside me, with a hollowed-out portion to act as my “lungs.”

Thankfully, I did not have much in the way of pain receptors. I could feel things touching me, and I could tell if I was hurt, but I could not feel any strong pain at all. That was one of the few things going on for this body, at least.

“Alright!” she said. “Now, just some sanding…”

She evened out the hole with some sanding paper, making it all into a pair of cylindrical holes stretching down into the base of my head.

“Okay, now, we activate the rune,” said Sybille.

She cast her spell towards my main body. The rune she had carved into the base of my head glowed green, as did the one in my lung chambers.

“How does it look?” I said.

Sybille nodded eagerly.

“I think it could work! Now… let’s… pick…you… up!”

She grabbed my head with both her hands and forced herself to carry me towards my body.

“Almost… ah!”

She slipped.

My head fell to the ground and went rolling, but I managed to move my hand from my detached body to catch Sybille. Just in time before she hit the ground!

“Are you okay?” I asked her.

I could still control my body even if my head was unattached, it seemed. It took a lot more effort, but it was doable.

Sybille stared at me like a deer caught in headlights, but eventually she snapped out of it and nodded.

“Oh, yes!” she said. “Thank you…”

She looked towards my head. Now there was some damage on the nose. I could feel it.

“I'm sorry that my body is so hard,” I said. “It must have been no better than falling to the ground.”

Sybille chuckled.

“Oh, don’t worry,” she said. “You caught my back, and that beats hitting the head! Now, let me heal you up…”

She went up to my head and cast her restoration spell, mending the damage from that fall.

“There we go,” she said.

“Roll my head,” I said. “It will be easier.”

“Oh, yes!” said Sybille.

With that, we got my head reattached to my body, and I was ready to go.

“Well?” said Sybille.

I gave a couple twists on my neck to make sure I was latched properly, and then, I got up. I sat down against the wall and kept my gaze facing forward.

“Did it work?” she said.

I could feel the changes in my body. It was different from before. I could feel the holes and the runes, as did I with the hollow chamber in my chest. I was ready. With that, I focused my sensation of “self” into the runes, activating them, and then…

“Ah…” I went.

I breathed in through the nose, and out from the mouth. It felt heavenly. Energizing. It was like taking your first breath after having it held for more than you thought possible.

“How does it feel?” Sybille asked me.

I titled my head towards her.

“It feels human,” I told her.

With that, she smiled and caressed the top of my head.

“I’m happy,” she said.

The door to the room creaked open.

“Sybille,” said Master Croghan. “Are you done yet?”

Sybille sprang to her feet.

“Yes, sir!” she said.

“Good,” said Master Croghan. “The Ranolkian Empire is sending its monsters to Whiteriver. Number BS-8 will have his first deployment there, now.”

“An attack…” lamented Sybille. “Are you sure? Bastion could train a lot more before…”

“Lives are at stake,” said Master Croghan. “Besides, he can take it.”

I stood up, moving slowly to not hit Sybille by accident.

“I will go,” I said. “How far is it?”

“Fairly,” said Master Croghan. “Going by foot will take too long. You will fly, Number BS-8.”

“I will fly?” I said.

“Already?!” added Sybille. “Is the design finished?”

Master Croghan cackled.

“Oh, no, nothing like that,” he said. “But it will come close. Say, do you know what a griffin is, Number BS-8?