Walking back to my home was torture. My head was bowed in thought, and my feet were slowly moving me forward. I sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of my nose between two fingers, hoping for some relief from the impending headache that threatened to blossom between my eyes.
Naylin dominated my thoughts, as usual, but this time they were new and sweeter memories, instead of the old ones that I had clung to for so many years. The old ones were tender and worn with age, like beloved and faded paintings or a handmade quilt that was loved into transparent rags. However, the new memories were fresh and intoxicating. I could still feel her in my arms. I could still smell her skin. I could almost taste her lips.
I knew this would torture me until I could see her again, just as her nightly communications tortured me. I longed for her love to caress my mind, as much as I longed for her to be in my arms.
What was really bothering me, though, was Garak.
I felt my brows crease together as I quickened my pace.
There will be trouble from him, came a small mental voice from inside my lapelled pocket.
“There will,” I told my golem.
What will you do? she asked.
“For one, we’re going to make some adjustments to your design. Then, we’ll figure out what the best course of action will be.” I paused in thought, thinking about the conversation I had had with Elder Ramos. “We have a lunch date with Naylin tomorrow, so for now we’ll try to focus on that.”
Agreed. But you might want to know I am detecting a set of footsteps behind us. They have been following us since we left the celebration.
“Do they sound hostile?” I asked while straining my ears to hear what Shye heard.
No, simply stealthy. They are only following, or I would have told you earlier.
“Hmm… well, tell me if their pace indicates anything more than stealth, Shye. I don’t want trouble.”
Understood, Julius. Relax.
I smiled as I patted the golem through my shirt. Golems’ confidence, positive nature, and attachment to their masters were what made them endearing to many prospective owners. You could pay someone to defend you, but mercenaries defended you out of self-interest. As soon as you took the money away or their life became more important, they were gone. A golem was the pinnacle of what it meant to be a warrior and a friend. They defended out of honor and cared about, even loved, those whose lives they were a part of. They valued their master’s well-being over their own, and that was something money simply could not buy, unless you bought a golem.
Intimately knowing this, I didn’t even feel the need to look behind myself as I entered my house and closed the door on the fragrant night.
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