C o r n e r s t o n e

Paladin - Oath of Devotion

He/Them - Warforged - estj/isfp

‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ‿︵‿︵

‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ‿︵‿︵

Cornerstone is the creation of Paltiel, a golem created from armour, and forged with alchemical means. He is designed to be the perfect, obedient soldier. He’s part of the church’s knight's order, which while led by the Headmaster Galahad, was overseen primarially by Paltiel during his training.

Being built with the purpose of being a holy soldier, he was essentially trained from creation for following orders. He would be engaged in combat, given a battle axe with the church’s insignia, and often sent on simple missions such as guarding a superior, tracking down an enemy of the church, things to ensure his conditional autonomy and also his loyalty. When he wasn’t training in combat, he was studying scripture, memorizing everything he was told.

One thing was made clear though, that he was not human, never was, and never will be. He is a machine, and many a time told “while you may need to lie to ease the fears of the common folk, you are still just pretending. You aren’t alive, all you are made to do is to follow orders.” The Archdeacon made sure that this was clear in his mind, snuffing out any instance of affection towards his creator and making sure it be replaced with reverence instead.

Though, he still had emotion, and it was apparent. He’d find himself losing track of time counting the flowers in the forest, getting distracted by animals, noticing strange aspects of his superiors and finding it humorous. They quickly discouraged this behaviour, though initially Cornerstone learnt to merely mask it.

Yet, he also found himself feeling scared, uneasy, and sad. Not just at the constant reminders of his inhumanity, but also the orders he’s been given, and the mercy he was ordered to destroy. He defied orders, this behaviour becoming more common as Cornerstone became more emotionally driven over time.

Of course, there are consequences to this, as a fault in his programming must be fixed. For Cornerstone, what was initially explained to him as a “cure” become torture. He felt every moment of it, the pain of the welding tools deep in his head, and the pain that this must be punishment for something he did. He felt more and more empty as it went on, as if the emotions and individuality inside him were being chipped away.

His head still hurt the day next, and never exactly seemed to stop hurting from then on. The world felt more empty, and the only thing he found joy in, or really any strong emotion for that matter, were the orders he was being given and the approval of the superiors ordering him. His now diminished personality began to fill in the blanks with his superiors, their words integrating into his vocabulary, their focuses becoming as important to him, and their disdain for the world embedding into him. He became more and more desperate for their approval, gaining their adoration by reflecting themselves.

Though, every so often he’d feel guilt and fear wash over him once more, his identity desperately trying to resurface and revealing itself in defiance. As expected, this defiance led to being “cured”. This cycle continued until the fear caught up with him, consuming him day and night.

Against his senses, he needed to hide, he needed to run away. He ran, knowing that if he was found he’d lose whatever was left of him, and the thought terrified him. Seconds seemed like minutes, minutes like hours and hours like days until the notice that the sun had long since fell. Yet, fazed by the obedience he was built with, he wandered through the forest on what he could only pray was his own free will. After days of wandering, he took a moment to rest, watching the leaves blow through the wind until time stopped. The emotions he felt for the nature around him were dull, but without distraction he could feel them stronger than he had for a while, a faint heartbeat of joy hidden underneath his armour.

Of course, not all good things tend to last. In what seemed like a moment, Cornerstone snapped back to reality, being lectured by his superiors about the sin he fell to. He wasn’t sure if he had imagined running away or not, his memory was blurry, his head seemed to hurt more than he realised, and he felt emptier. He did feel that something was off, as if there was a voice inside of him trying desperately to escape, as if there were thoughts trying to break through. Surely he had been imagining it? Why, he had no reason to dislike the church, especially not after everything they had done to fix him. Right?

Afterall, he was the perfect soldier, completely obedient to any orders he was given, carrying them out with what he was told was joy and without hesitation. He paid no mind to how much darker his axe had become over the years, and how redder his scarves had become. In fact, he was told to be proud of it, for he was following orders, doing what he was made to do, and doing it well.

Though, rarely, he feels the familiar guilt rush over him, his mind clearer than it's ever been, realising everything that had been done to him and everything that he had done, overwhelming him with desperation to escape… before fading away as quickly as it arrived. He prayed it would fade away, reciting every rite he could remember, though it never satiated his ever growing fear, that little voice inside him getting louder still. He tries to keep this to himself though, for it was sinful, was it not?