The Idol

Taking a shortcut on their way home from Gildenleaf’s Oak District brings a humble farmer and his son face-to-face with an object whose existence should not be possible...

The Idol

Eldrin knew that taking this shortcut had been a bad idea.

He and his 8 year-old son, Rhylar, were running behind. Market day in Gildenleaf’s Oak District had been a great success and, though they had left much later than they anticipated, they had departed through the Eastern gate with a heavy coin purse. Their wooden wagon, the spokes of the wheels creaking as they made their way through the rough ground and undergrowth of the forest, was completely empty of the great piles of product they had bought to town that morning. Those bundles of vegetables were replaced by just a few barrels of salted pork and ale, as well as a small chest containing their profits and a few fine bottle of sweet elderberry wine for Eldrin’s wife; her favorite.

The sun dipped in the horizon as they made their way further South. Eldrin’s wife was likely already worried and he had tried to make up a few hours by cutting through this forest they had to skirt to the East of to get back home. His wagon was narrow and could decently pass through the narrow gaps between trees and, minus a rougher ride than they would experience on the main road, the shortcut hadn’t been too arduous.

But Eldrin, and even his son, knew there was something off in these woods long before they actually saw it. They could feel it in their bones, by the silence of the once talkative birds in the canopy and the stillness of the treetops on what was a fairly windy day. It felt as if the whole world was holding it’s breath, waiting for...something.

The sun approached the horizon in the distance and Eldrin cursed his decision to cut through this forest once again. At the very least, he could have setup camp near the road on the way home and, while not ideal, he and his son would have remained unmolested by whatever wild creatures called this place home.

That’s when they saw it.

Eldrin didn’t even know what to call this...thing they had encountered. It had the same shape as a man in heavy armor, but it must have been 100 times the size. It sat almost casually along the floor of the clearing, as if it had just found a good seat to take a rest on. The only thing that made it obvious that it hadn’t sat down mere minutes before was the thick layer of rust. Eldrin also noted that it’s left leg had been torn off of the body and thrown aside like it was a piece of a child’s toy.

His mind struggled to think of something as big as this, and the closest thing he could come up with was Baron Marple’s keep back in Gildenleaf. But this...Idol, he called it in his mind, would have likely towered over the keep if it sat as it was. Not to mention what could happen if this Idol could stand or even...move...

The manufactured curves and lines of the metal were pitted by heavy rust that could only have developed from decades of disuse, if not longer. Fading sunlight glinted off of crisscrossing grooves cut deep within the chest and limbs of the Idol, what Eldrin would call the marks of battle if this had been a human in a suit of armor.

To his left, standing as if it were a signpost, was a large shaped piece of the same rusted metal, one that almost looked like a shield for such a creature. The surface had the same strike marks as the Idol did, as well as a large hole through the top of it, almost as if something had taken a massive hand drill to it to bore that hole. But...it was obviously a battle wound, the hole’s edges rough and wavering. Perhaps a cannonball could cause this kind of wound, but this hole was far bigger than any cannonball Eldrin had ever seen.

Eldrin’s breath accelerated as he took in the full scale of the Idol. He had so many questions that had no simple answers. His sister Estrilde, an armorer of no small note, had shown him and Rhylar around her shop The Starry Anvil many times. She had several machines, most that worked only by the application of human effort, that worked to help bend flattened metal against the human body’s many curves and rivet it into place. She was an expert in this art, and created armor that was comfortable with a decent range of motion, but would easily turn away blade and axe.

But the armor on this Idol shared almost no relation to his cousin’s, having no natural curves to fit a human body underneath. It was all straight lines and parts that seemed to be made in one piece, as if there were ways to create such detail from a solid block of metal that would easily topple an entire city block of houses, stores, and cookshops.

Eldrin couldn’t explain how such a sight could even physically exist and his head started to hurt at the effort. Machines like his cousins that were scaled up to create such armor would be far too large for anyone to use except something similarly sized and-

Eldrin gasped suddenly. He quickly put together the only logical explanation for the damage on the Idol. The only possible thing that could damage something as large and imposing as this Idol in such a fashion...was another Idol of the same size….no human could possibly cause this sort of damage to such a massive creature. And that meant…

Eldrin’s heartbeat started to quicken, so fast that he swore Rhylar would be able to hear it.

That meant that there were likely more of these Idols. Maybe even one nearby.

And while this one Idol looked like it couldn’t move if it wanted to, Eldrin knew nothing of it’s kind. He had a sudden mental image of this Idol lurching forward with no warning, a great creaking from rusty joints echoing out amongst the forest, it’s hand clasping around the entire wagon, horses and all. And crushing the entire thing like a bored child would do to a small twig, crimson blood staining the already rusty palms.

Eldrin turned their horses and wagon from the Idol, speedily making his way as far as he could from such a sight. He no longer cared about if he was moving towards home, just that he was moving away from this.

But, as Eldrin reacted in terror, Rhylar had a very different feeling at the sight of the Idol. Childlike wonder.

“Papa! Papa!” he said. “What is that thing! It’s bigger than-”

“I know, boy!” Eldrin snapped. “Keep your eyes forward!”

“But it almost looks like one of those suits of armor in Aunt Est’s shop! Do you think that-”

“Rhylar!” Eldrin nearly shouted. “You’ll put it out of your mind. We’re leaving.”

Rhylar grew quiet as his father’s frenzied order, his eyes still drifting over to the Idol, which he didn’t even have a word for. Rhylar was usually a good child to his parents and had always minded their orders and guidance. But, at this very moment, he had an inextricable feeling in his stomach; one that told him that this was the only chance he would ever have in his entire life to truly see this...whatever it was. And he was willing to take a chance.

As his father focused on controlling the horses, Rhylar suddenly turned and jumped from the wagon, departing at a run towards the Idol. The boy, overwhelmed by wonder, wanted to know what it felt like to stand underneath something larger than anything he had ever seen before and what it would feel like to have the rusted metal underneath his palm.

Faintly, the boy heard his father shouting after him, but it sounded to him like his father’s voice was coming from the bottom of a well. Rhylar stopped inches away from the Idol, looking upwards, his stomach doing somersaults in that way it does when you realize how tall something really is. In awe, shielded by the innocence of childhood from the fear his father felt, he reached out his palm to touch what would be a section of the ankle.

But he was ripped away by his father at the last moment, the man’s face red with anger at his son’s disobedience.

“What in the name of the Silver Cross do you think you are doing, boy?!”

But, as Eldrin’s gaze moved up to the top of the Idol, he saw where it’s eyes would be, shielded by some visor. The fading sunlight illuminated the entire blank face he hadn’t noticed before, unlike any human face he had ever seen; something completely alien to him. No individual eyes, no mouth, and barely the shape of a nose. And Eldrin suddenly felt like he saw something suddenly move in that face. His once red face went pale with fear.

“Papa, I just wanted to-”

Eldrin pushed his hand across the mouth of his son, shaking his head. His eyes focused on the Idol like he would look at a hungry bear, trying to keep the boy silent. He slowly retreated backwards, his eyes on the Idol, only retreating at a run once he felt he was far enough away. Throwing Rhylar in his lap like a sack of potatoes, Eldrin jumped onto the driver’s seat of his wagon and snapped the reins of the horses, pushing them forward at a full gallop, deep into the dark forest.