Report of the Mage Elynn Stormhand – Progress and Destruction

I can hardly believe how far we have come. What was once a solitary experiment—a desperate attempt to give a tool more than just mechanical function—has now become a fully realized development. Veyos was the beginning, but not the end.
I look around my workshop, now filled with new forms, new engravings, new Golems. They are no longer simple constructs. They are specialized. They are optimized. They are better.

Replication – A New Generation

Once it became clear that Veyos not only functioned but could adapt independently, the next logical step followed: creating more of them. But not mere copies—no, we wanted Golems optimized for specific tasks.
Some were designed to regulate the fine mechanics of the Warm Zone, tending to delicate plants and maintaining consistent humidity. Others were built for increased durability, capable of moving heavy loads and stabilizing structural foundations.
And then there was Taron, my personal assistant. He was not like the others—he was made for research. I engraved runes into him that would teach him to recognize magical patterns, analyze data, and support my own work. He cannot create new concepts, but he can refine existing theories.

The Creative Frenzy – A World in Motion

I have lost myself in my work. The past years have been an unending sequence of experiments, adjustments, and new discoveries. I have altered runes, redirected energy flows, and uncovered magical engravings that once seemed impossible.
Each new version brings new possibilities. I experiment with energy redirection, allowing finer control. I test magical storage, stabilizing their work over longer periods.
I see how the Frostborn adapt—how they begin to accept the Golems as part of their environment. Some view them as mere tools. Others as progress.
Then came the disillusionment.
I was proud of Taron. He was not perfect, but he was my assistant, my right hand in research. Until I found him—shattered, broken, his runes split.
They call it training. They call it necessity. They call it a test of strength.
  But I call it destruction.
When I searched for answers, I received no confessions, only suggestions. "Elynn, you should create special training Golems—then we wouldn’t have to fight each other."
Perfect targets, they said. They feel nothing. They do not resist. They simply break.
I felt no anger, only a deep emptiness.
  I knew that the Golems have no emotions—and that is precisely why it is so easy for them to be destroyed.
But I ask myself: If they are truly nothing, If they truly feel nothing, If they are truly just tools— Why does it hurt to see them like this?
  Because I feel.
  And because I know what could happen if I continue down this path.
A Golem with emotions would be an unpredictable force.
I can imagine what they could do if they became self-aware—if they no longer made decisions for their tasks, but for their own existence.
I will not lead my research in that direction. But I will also not allow my work to be used for mere training dummies.
I refuse.
For the Chronicles of the Mages, Elynn Stormhand