She could barely believe it. True to the Construct’s words, the town, HER castle, came into view a little over an hour and a half into their journey. If she wasn’t with the Construct, she wouldn’t have believed it. Hell, she didn’t know how she would explain that to her parents, or how to get them to believe it.

She had heard of speed enhancement magic, she was a sorceress after all, but those usually only doubled the speed of the user, and was extremely physically draining.

She looked at him with her magic-sense. There was no magic, none at all. She blinked. Even magicians and magic users bled a little magic, just by having it. Yet here was a construct, no doubt made with magic, who could use magic, and who could cover up all magical emissions. Everything about this situation was wrong! It went against everything she had been taught in the academy!

If a normal elf had simultaneously hide their magical emissions and used speed enhancement magic, they would be a shriveled husk on the ground, gasping for air, scarcely able to find the energy to breathe! Yet the Construct stood there, unwavering, showing no signs of exhaustion. It wasn’t even breathing deeply!

As they began to approach the gates, she tapped on the side of the Construct’s head. It looked at her.

“You can put me down now. The guards might freak out if they see me on the shoulder of some construct.” she said, looking to see if she still had everything. The Construct nodded, and lowered her to the ground.

She stood, feeling rejuvenated from the rest, even if only by a little bit. They continued to the gates, where the guards kept close eyes on them until her face became recognizable.

“It’s the Lord’s daughter! Open the gates!” a guardsman shouted, before turning to look at her to get a clearer sight. That's when he noticed the construct next to her. “Umm… what's with the construct, if you don’t mind me asking?”. She smiled to ease him.

“It saved me. It also carried me here in just over an hour and a half, as unbelievable as that sounds.” She said, as the guardsman’s eyebrow rose. “But I must speak to father, is he here?”

The guard nodded. “Up in his keep, you know where.” They were waved on through, although the careful watching eyes of the guards made sure the Construct did not try anything.

They kept going through the town, the townspeople parting for the much easier to notice construct. Being a foot taller and much wider than the normal elf, it was easy to tell what a confrontation would result in with the being. Easy to tell for the average person, but stupid is universal.

As they were approaching the town square, she was suddenly pulled off into an alleyway, and thrown up against a wall. There were 3 elves around her, all dirty, and all apparently lacking in the brain development.

“The Lord’s daughter has to have a good bit of money on her” one said, as they all grinned and chuckled.

“Yeah, we gonna be rich after this one, fel-” one said, until an axe cleaved through his body, from head to crotch. The other two thugs stepped back, but it was too late. The axe cleaved into another one’s shoulder as the pommel of the axe smashed the other in the face. As he was reeling from the blow, the axe ripped itself free and took his head off.

She looked up at where she had fallen, expecting to see a couple thugs. Instead, the Construct was there, reaching a hand out to help her up. She was confused, until she noticed the fresh coat on it’s axe blade. She understood immediately.

“Thank you again. I can assume you will escort me to the keep?” she said, brushing the dirt off her clothes after taking his hand to stand up. The construct nodded, and they continued to the keep, leaving the clean up to the guards.

When they arrived to the throne room, no further incident impeding on their journey, her father was there waiting on his throne, and had already been informed by the looks of it about what happened.

“Father!” she cried out as she saw him. His eyes lit up as he stood and hugged her.

“Oh my Atlia, how are you? I heard about the attack in the square.” her father said, worried. She waved him off.

“I am fine, father, but only thanks to this construct” she said, raising a hand in it’s direction. Her father looked at it

“I see. Thank you construct, for protecting my daughter. Who made you?” he asked, preparing a reward for them.

“No one did. I am not a construct” the constr- the being said. Her father frowned, while she was confused.

“Then what are you? You cannot be elf, you are too big and tall. You cannot be orc, you are too well mannered and armoured. You cannot be dwarf, for obvious reasons. What are you?” her father said, confused and a little unbelieving it wasn’t a construct.

“Human” it said, in a language she didn’t understand. The guards didn’t understand either. Neither did the guests and other nobles. Her father, however, had both his eyebrows raise, as he gasped auditibly.

“Impossible! You speak the language of -” he looked around, at the other guests and guards, “not important, but I must ask for thy name, good sir.” She was shocked. What was it about this language that made her father a nervous wreck? He was always confident and never let anything get better of him!

“You may call me Jorai.” Jorai said, gazing intensely at her father.

“Well met Jorai, might I ask of you a meeting in five minutes?” her father said, dismissing the others. Jorai nodded, and she followed her father and Jorai into a back room.