The Forgotten Sentinel
I stand here among the ruins, never at rest.
The wood rots, the stone crumbles, and the marble cracks.
I am a guardsman set, forged of magic and will.
Protect, he commanded, forever I shall obey.
Such is my fate, that is my design.
This spell does not fade, it will not wither.
Eternity is my companion, my vigilance unending.
by Nicholas Byrley
Such is the lonely life of a magical guardian without its master. I could get into an Asimov-esque idea of whether the magical construct had thoughts or emotions or dreams, but that could take all night. I just find the concept intriguing. It’s easy just to hand-wave magical creations and other such wonders in fantasy, but I like to really think about it. How does the world work, what might such magic bring? It is a topic that could provide endless fodder for stories or new ideas. Incidentally, I tried to write this as flash fiction but it refused to come out right. It fit better as a poem instead. I hope you enjoyed it, please comment if you have any thoughts.