7:00 AM September 13th 2026
Manhattan Island in Central Park
Outside The National Museum of Unnatural Science and History
It was a nice day, a nice morning. Clear, skies. It was also stupid-bright for this time of day and Kyle was shading his smartphone’s screen, walking from the shade of one security golem to another as he tried to read.
“Cook!?” He whisper-screamed with irritation and a flare of magic enveloped him as he expressed his displeasure. One of the dozens of security golems that lined the perimeter of the park turned its head to assess him as a threat. "Oh. Oops.” The young man looked up startled. "Don’t mind me. Just reading. Good golem. I’m not a threat. See?”
He groped for the lanyard around his neck and held up his tie instead of the identification card he’d been intending to. Large, blocky, and vaguely humanoid in shape, the dark granite security golem’s supposedly emotionless stare began to seem terribly baleful at that moment.
Kyle realized he was holding up his tie and fumbled around his neck again before successfully holding up his ID badge. He stood very still as he was magically scanned because he was pretty sure that they did not like him. No siree.
In Kyle’s, admittedly, biased opinion, those golems thought Kyle was shifty as heck. Were the other golems watching him out of the corners of their eyes? Were their heads turned ever so slightly to keep focus on him?
The surface of his badge flashed pearlescent as the magical security identifiers it was enchanted with activated at the golem’s query. Satisfied, the golem returned to its assigned position, looking like nothing so much as a statue facing outward from the protected grounds of Central Park. The others in the row also shifted slightly as well, their heads returning to a neutral position.
“Pft! I knew it.” He crowed quietly. "They are watching me.” After a second of squinting his eyes at them to make sure the golems had returned to their normal behavior, he let out a relieved breath and ran a hand through his short wavy hair giving it a quick tug of frustration.
“Whew! That was...” The young man scrubbed a hand over his face. "I’ve got to talk to the boss about lowering the sensitivity on their sensor enchantments. That is way too high.” Grumbling, the young man returned to hurrying along while quietly cursing under his breath and scrolling on his phone.
“Cook. They said I’m a bloody cook? Damn this sun.” Kyle squinted his eyes and shook his fist in the general direction of the sunrise as he continued with his distracted rant. "Anna gets a brilliant write-up, but me? Oh, he’s just the family cook.” His voice changed pitch and octave as he mocked what had been written about himself. "I can’t believe...ah, hello.” Noticing someone standing in his path, Kyle looked up to apologize and saw that it was just another golem.
This one was not the impeccable imposing dark stone edifice of the others. Nor was it one of the security golems that he swore held some kind of grudge against him. Instead, it was old, one might say ancient even. It had clearly been destroyed and reassembled.
The white marble of its weathered body was a crisscrossing tracery of golden lines welding the cracked stone together in a beautiful example of Kintsugi style art being used to restore an artifact. Of course, the regular type of lacquer used in pottery kintsugi wasn’t strong enough to hold a marble golem together. This was enchanted.
Bright morning light reflected off the repairs where it hit them but shone with magical light where they were in shadow. And a series of enchantments and runes of restoration were carved into the stone body to reinforce the welds. They glowed softly on the parts of its body that were shaded from the sun. The magical carvings were not bright enough to glow in the sun, but in the lighted areas, the carvings of the runes could be seen faintly in the old stone.
It was the Apple Tree Golem, a favorite feature of the park and one of the many wonders curated by the museum. This golem was actually a New York City mascot, and its image was used heavily in tourism advertising. Visitors to the museum could buy miniature, non-functional versions of it in the museum gift shop.
The Apple Tree Golem carried a woven basket of golden apples over one arm. They really do just look like solid lumps of apple-shaped gold. Kyle mused at how they glinted in the morning light. As he paused on his trek to work, the golem took one golden apple from its basket and held it out to Kyle with its free hand. The apple glowed softly despite competing with the sun.
Magic apples. Magic apples the golem harvested from the tree it guarded and offered to parkgoers as they wandered by. A tree that was gifted to Central Park and The National Museum of Unnatural Science and History by Ladon, the guardian dragon of the Garden of Hesperides. These weren’t those magic apples, the apples of immortality. Landon would never give one of those trees out if he could even be persuaded to admit that they existed.
But the tree had been a historic gift to celebrate the restoration of the ancient Golem which had been destroyed during a monster battle decades ago. It had protected the remains of its sacred grove until the very last. Landon had been so moved by the story he’d felt the Golem deserved a new grove to protect and the tree he’d gifted was the first planted in the museum’s Magical Tree Grove in Central Park.
It stood across from the entrance to The National Museum of Unnatural Science and History, golden apples glowing faintly nestled among the leaves of the tree. Kyle could see it over the golem’s shoulder. Beyond that, the multi-story façade of the museum with its wide steps and pillars making it look like some ancient temple of the Gods sized for them to appear in their true forms. Already, the leaves of some trees in the orchard were beginning to change colors for the Fall season. That didn’t matter though. The trees would fruit year-round.
“Thanks.” Kyle took the proffered apple as the golem once again offered it to him. While it might not make him live forever, one of these a day would keep the doctor away for most minor ailments.
It wouldn’t work on anything a good elixir couldn’t fix just as well or even better. Which was probably why no one fought over them or tried to steal them. And museum employees received an Apple Stipend as part of their benefits package. He shoved the apple into the deep pockets of his Warlock’s robe, a rather modern design that resembled a dark trench coat with a hood but was enchanted to protect the wearer from magical and alchemical mishaps. Kyle hurried on, his robe swirling around his knees as his cell phone began to ring.
The ringtone was set to a song that amused him and the Mountain King Mover’s advertising jingle began playing. It was complete with lyrics set to the iconic In the Hall of the Mountain King music. The young man began to sing along as he squinted at his phone screen angling it away from the sunlight again to see who was calling.
“When you need to move your stuff,
Trust in us,
We are tough,
When you need to move your stuff,
We will get it done.”
Kyle waited until the entire first verse had played before picking up the call.
Thank you for reading!
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