Thousands of Years Later

Present Day

I opened my eyes and saw the morning sun from the comfort of my bed, its light shining through the open balcony and basking my room with its warmth.

A few birds flew across my view, singing their songs as they went. The same tranquility I had gotten used to for so long greeted me.

I stood and stretched, rubbing my eyes as I did. I walked up the balcony and gazed over the horizon. A mighty city of marble stood before me, glimmering against the morning sun. In the distance, vast mountains wrapped around the city, their snowy peaks giving birth to a misty view.

The spires and towers fluttered with my banners, white and gold across a tapestry of diamonds.

But as my eyes gazed further, the empty streets of my city reminded me of what I really was.

A king without a kingdom. An exile. And that was okay.

But I wasn't entirely alone. My doors swung open and a pair of heavy footsteps followed. Aroma swept my nostrils.

"Baked mutton?" I asked as I turned around.

Holding a silver plate of steaming baked mutton and potatoes, a tall golem clad in gleaming adamantite armor greeted me with a bow.

It was Frank, one of my many, many Sentinel Golems I created, and their leader.

My home got too big, I needed the extra hands. The pests won't purge themselves... or maybe they would actually.

But my home would be destroyed, again.

Speaking of, I should check the weather barrier in the afternoon. There were dark clouds looming beyond the mountains.

"You can set it down on the table." I said. The golem did as it was told and promptly left the room, leaving me to my business.

My business was a quick affair. An empty plate sat on the table behind me as I looked at myself in the mirror.

My eyes looked tired, even after all these years of... rest. My attire wasn't exactly a good reflection either. I had worn the same black hood and coat since that day.

And yet all of it had been cleaned, pressed, and folded every day for the last... many years. Every morning without fail these clothes would be inside my dresser, clean and folded with elegance I would always appreciate.

I should thank them again, even if they didn't understand what it meant.

As I was about to leave my room, someone knocked on my door. Someone small.

It seemed like I could thank them a lot sooner.

Two small golems made of barley greeted me as I opened the door, waving their little rustly arms with childish delight.

Frank stood behind them with fiery spear in hand, he seemed more menacing than usual.

"What brings you two here?" I asked with a smile. These were Wheatley and Barleyon, the two leaders of the Helper Golems. A rather unintuitive name compared to their bigger, stronger counterparts. But it suited them well nonetheless..

According to documentated knowledge and common studies of Golemancy, golems are inherently attuned to violence. Their magic structures and requirements made it necessary for them to have body structures that were ill-suited for anything else but war. Not to mention their minds were often dumber than an animal's.

Well-versed in combat but not much else, golems made for capable yet disposable soldiers. It was rare for one to have the ability to perform the day-to-day labors required to maintain civilization.

But these Helpers were hardworking laborers. From maintaining buildings, tilling the fields, tending the herds, and even cleaning the sewers, these little golems were the reason I lived the way I did.

They were oblivious of the dangers that lurked beyond the safety of the mountains. And they're better off not knowing. They were weak and fragile, yet they were a determined bunch.

I spent centuries studying golemancy, and centuries more in trying to create them. As far as I was concerned, they were my children.

Far from perfect, and that was okay. They didn't need to be.

The two helpers gestured me to follow them and I obliged with Frank following behind. We walked through the empty halls and down several steps. I gazed at every window we passed, looking at trees and shadows.

A few sentinels joined Frank behind me, their heavy steps echoing across. They were my 'personal guard' per se, Sentinels who insisted on following me around unless I told them not to.

I didn't mind. Though guarding me hasn't been necessary for a long time.

The helpers led me to the throneroom, a silent and lonely hall lit by several braziers, torches, and a chandelier that dangled from the tall ceiling. A scarlet carpet ran through the middle, flanked by thick marble columns draped over by banners of white and gold.

Why did they lead me here?

There were no courtiers, no advisors, and no guests. There was nothing here that seemed important. But they were insistent.

The room was mostly silent, broken only by footsteps as the two helpers led me up the stairs and towards my throne. Frank followed while the other sentinels reserved themselves to the flanks of the steps, standing still like statues.

I stopped in front of the throne, gazing at its elaborate and opulent design. What a shallow display of wealth it was.

At least it was comfy. Very comfy.

I sat on the softest silk padding mankind has ever known and awaited what my helpers had in mind. They quickly went and grabbed my crystal ball that was displayed on a stand and presented it to me, tapping on it furiously like cats playing with mice.

"You want me to look at something?" I asked. The two helpers nodded.

It was odd being asked to look at something through a crystall ball, especially mine. I usually used it to gaze beyond the confines of the mountains, to look at the world at large and see what had changed.

I haven't done so in thousands of years. Until today.

I rubbed the dusty thing, placed my palm on it, and chanted the activation spell. The crystal ball lit up, swirling with magic as it directed me to what my helpers wanted me to see.

The swirling magic turned into a vision.

It was a tunnel, oddly familiar. There was blood everywhere. Bodies donning torn garments and crude armor were scattered around, they weren't anything like I've seen. They were small and green with pointy noses and ears.

A new race?

The thought settled on my mind. That was impossible. A new race would need thousands more years to form! Let alone establish themselves properly. Without the gods to guide them, that would be impossible. But these newcomers seemed advanced enough to craft and wield weapons and armor.

Could it mean...?

A loud cry snapped me from my thoughts. It was a young woman's. The crystal ball followed the direction of the scream. As it did, I heard the sound of battle. Faintly at first, but soon I could hear the clashing of swords and the echoes of grunts and growls. 

Then I saw it. A bloodied and battered group of four, each seemingly from a different race. They were fighting against the same horde of little green creatures.

And they were surrounded.