The Golem Mage Chapter 1: Alec Gordon
Another ordinary day dawned in the Gordon Clan's compound, and I am Alec—let me offer a brief rundown: I got reincarnated following a horrific car crash as I rushed to rescue an elderly woman.
The deities bestowed upon me a fresh start, placing me in this alternate realm around fourteen years prior.
Eventually, I learned that I served as the young master and sole surviving heir to the Gordon lineage, though my true heritage traced back to the esteemed Ancient Blaze Clan.
Nevertheless, the Blaze Clan—one of the elite houses in the capital—refused to recognize me as kin. From the tales I've gathered, my father never formally wed my mother; he was merely a young master on a training journey who succumbed to her allure, wooed her with charming promises, got her with child, and then vanished back to his kin without a word to her.
By the time my mother realized her pregnancy, he had long departed. She attempted to contact him through letters to his relatives, yet not a single response came.
In her anguish, she journeyed to the capital on her own to convey the news face-to-face, but ended up scorned and turned away by the very man she adored.
Devastated, she came back to the Gordon family in despair. Fortunately, my devoted grandfather, the head of the Gordon household, raised me after my mother perished giving birth to me.
From that point, he nurtured me in a modest town close to the capital. Our bond resembles that of siblings more than the usual elder and youth dynamic, and I cherish the profound affection he lavishes on me.
"Alec, how have you been holding up today?" a weathered voice inquired from the courtyard entrance. I recognized it instantly, yet I pivoted to meet his gaze with a sly grin.
"You know I'm fine, old timer. I won't kick the bucket ahead of you, that's for sure," I shot back with a lighthearted jab.
"You rascal! Never mind, you've turned awfully bold lately, kiddo," the elder snapped at first, wagging a finger in my direction.
But moments later, he exhaled in contentment and erupted into chuckles. We chatted and swapped tales, coming across more like siblings than a grandpa and his grandson.
Observers would scarcely suspect our actual connection. The devotion my grandfather holds for me runs deep; since my mother's death, he poured all his efforts into guiding me properly, and I remain forever thankful for his nurturing warmth.
Yet from how he clasped my shoulders and let out a heavy breath, I sensed he was gearing up for yet another of his weighty lectures.
"You realize you're on the verge of hitting fifteen, don't you?" he questioned, his stare brimming with gravity.
"Yeah, old man," I answered, fully expecting his next words. In this realm, reaching fifteen triggers the awakening of one's magical powers, allowing entry into the ranks of true mages.
"And you understand what follows that, correct?" he pressed on, locking eyes with me. I gave a firm nod.
"I do," I affirmed with assurance, buzzing with anticipation for the future.
"Hmm, once your powers stir to life, seek me out. There's a vital heirloom I need to hand over to you," he declared, his voice laced with eagerness.
"Oh, what could it be?" I pressed, my gaze alight with intrigue.
"If I spilled it now, that would ruin the thrill, wouldn't it?" he ribbed, a playful spark dancing in his eyes.
He aimed to heighten my suspense until I begged for details, and I found myself yielding to the urge.
"Come on, just a little clue?" I urged, my thrill mounting.
"Alright, consider this: it's the very secret that let the Gordon family endure the blood moons and carve out a name for themselves, modest as it may be," he revealed, his posture swelling with satisfaction.
The Gordon family, famed for their alchemical inventions and golem dependencies, frequently got dismissed as feeble by rival mage clans.
"But it's hard to fathom you'd feel ashamed of it. That golem manual stands unique and has sustained us through thick and thin; I'm certain you'll restore the era when golems commanded respect," I cut in, aiming to bolster his spirits.
Everyone knew the Gordon family's endurance amid the blood moons—those nights when demons and undead assaulted villages—marked an unbelievable achievement.
Though belittled by others, their skill in safeguarding their own and weathering the blood moons proved their resilience. These crimson lunar events struck monthly, as the 72 monarchs of purgatory dispatched their lieutenants and officers to assail the earth, flooding it with swarms of demons and undead.
My grandfather let out a hearty laugh, obviously eased by my reassurance.
"It's astonishing you'd sense any shame here. Are you worried I'd chase after other magics like the rest of our kin?" I probed.
"Y... y... yeah... I'm quite anxious. The golem manual isn't studied as it once was, and I dread it vanishing on my watch. You're a clever lad, and I trust you'll revive the golden age when golems earned adoration," he launched into his needless self-praise.
"Cut the boasting, old man," I broke in, dousing his pride.
"Rest easy, I'll absolutely claim it. After all, it's my legacy. Skip it, and I might inherit nothing from you after you're gone," I jested at him anew.
"You scoundrel! You're done for! Hold still!" he bellowed, dashing about the courtyard to nab me. I grinned, aware this was all for show. Deep down, he fretted over the impending red moon surge, striving to ready me with power to thrive in this unforgiving realm."