Reflection and Road

The party trekked down the mountainside, Wanderer with a spring in their step, Emio, having lacked a heartfelt experience to lift their mood, still rather tired.

They found themselves traveling down a thin little trail pathed with loose gravel and stones, which led to the great paved road which struck through the sea of grass.

Emio became a little more lively after they skulked off to find a different form, returning as some kind of tough shrubbery with dry leaves sprouting over their wooden body.

Having little else to think about, the Golem’s mind inevitably turned toward their travels, first examining the cave where they were created.

They laughed a little in their mind at how naive they had once been, how unknowing of the world around them, finding unlimited wonder in a simple trick of the light.

But their reflection brought with it a question, “How did I come to be?”, they had no parent nor caregiver, (a concept they had gathered from the animals around them) and this fact caused them to feel a little inadequate, even the swarmlings cared for their young, protecting them to the last.

What was even the point of a parent, they asked themself, to protect and nurture, guide and help, and if so why did they not have one?

They thought back to the many trials and tribulations they had faced throughout their journey, the fog-beast, Magi and centipedes, perhaps if they had a parent they would never have been in those situations, have to bear the scars they gave.

Their Spirit spoke to them, suggesting an answer to their question, urging them to review two memories they had accrued.

The first was at the very beginning of their life when they had first come to consciousness and their Spirit had made itself known, the second was at the base of the great tree, where they had seen their kin fight and fall.

Initially, the Vessel found little connection between the two memories, confused as to why they were chosen, yet with time, the reason for choice became clear.

Dust.

When the Golem was killed, their terracotta body shattered into dust, collapsing into a small mountain of fine powder, and when Wanderer awoke, they had to crawl out of a fine dust that covered them completely.

There was little light when they first witnessed the world, not enough for their unenhanced vision to make out the nature of the dust that surrounded them, yet it was fine and copious, much like what was left from a Golem would be.

Their mind was quick to jump toward the obvious conclusion, that their parent was dead, but on further review, another option presented itself.

“Perhaps all Golems are born in dust”, yet if this was the case, why had their guardian abandoned them so young?

These thoughts plagued their mind, useless worries repeating over and over, for a moment they almost turned around and attempted to march back to the cave where they woke, though it was an idea that was quickly refuted by a simple contemplation of the dangers that rested in their way.

Their Spirit interrupted their anxieties with a addition to their thoughts, that while in all likelihood their carer was dead or gone, they were not without guidance or companionship.

From the beginning, Spirit had been there, always watching and guiding Wanderer forward, even if their own guidance was not perfect.

More recently, Emio had joined their fold, saving the Vessel's life time and time again, proving themself to be reliable till the bitter end.

A well of gratefulness rose up inside Wanderer, only partially managing to cover the hollow feeling their parent’s absence provided.

They once again felt a great benevolence for their friends and took solace in the feeling.

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The snap of a dry stick under their hooves drove Wanderer back to reality, and it was only now that they had realised that while they were walking in a new place, they hadn’t even bothered to observe the environment around them, too caught up in their own mind.

Instantly they set to work taking in their surroundings, every sight, sound and texture.

Beneath their hooves, they walked on a small gravel trail, old and overgrown with weeds and speckled with half-rotten twigs and shrivelled mushrooms.

The area around them was populated with dry shrubbery and large boulders resting on dry, green-yellow grass and tree bark.

Towering above the group like monoliths rose massive, twisting, off-white trees that shed their bark much like a snake, rolling off them in tight sheaths.

Despite their difference in structure, the robust trees shared the pine needles that came from their cousins, who rested just on the other side of the mountain, hidden away in their damp valleys.

Constantly, the area was filled with a light groaning and rustling, as consistent yet potent wind dashed itself against the mountain face.

It is because of this wind, Wanderer realised, everything on the mountainside was so robust and scraggly, as everywhere it touched it seemed to whip moisture away, forcing the plantlife that could survive on the mountain face to become tougher and more conservative than its sheltered neighbours.

There was animal life here too, possum-like creatures leapt from tree to tree, carried by the constant winds on furry wings, on the ground, Wanderer caught glimpses of tiny, little lizards, darting from rock to rock, seemingly afraid of some coming danger.

And it wasn't long before this danger revealed itself, moving like a blur, an insect the size of a cat, so camouflaged that even the Golem didn't see them, leapt at the skink like an envoy of death, before stuffing the unfortunate creature into its mandibled mouth.

A little shocked by the sudden appearance, the Vessel resurveyed the area and discovered that on every fourth or fifth tree, one of the camouflage creatures waited in ambush.

So engrossed were they in counting the arthropods, that Wanderer didn't notice that their verdestry companion had grown curious of the creatures, slowly approaching one and raising a shrubbed tendril to poke at it.

Initially, the stickbug moved away, calmly taking itself a step or two away from its previous position on the tree trunk, before camouflaging with its new environment and resuming its ambush position.

Yet a curious Emio was a relentless one, and after several more pokes, the insect fought back against the offending pseudopod.

It leapt quickly onto the thin tendril, struggling to find a grip before sinking its mandibles into the branch-like limb.

Despite tempting fate, the verdestry was not expecting such sudden retaliation, physically propelling themselves in the air a little from the shock, before panickedly waving the creature around, trying to shake the thing off.

Wanderer had to step in the prevent the insect from being smashed into the floor, managing to pull it off after only a moment of struggle, where it then retreated to the same tree it was taken from and resumed its position.

Despite Emio’s adverse reaction, the bug had done very little true damage, its mandibles built to eat small, squishy lizards not tough, magically animated shrubbery, and so the whole incident caused a great deal of mirth within the group, Wanderer and their Spirit both sharing a light laugh about it.

After they all calmed down from the debacle, the Golem set their sights on the road ahead, quite literally, just a few hundred steps before them lay the massive road they had seen from afar, sprawling like a river.

To their left lay the ocean of swaying grass, swelling like waves as it got moved by the wind, only the rare insect mound breaking up its natural splendour, and past it lay the massive desert they had seen from afar, the rising sun’s azure rays reflecting off the black sands.

To their right, the stone path wound its way up the mountains, through the valleys and peaks before reaching the city of man they had seen from so far away.

Clustered together like rocks in gravel, stark white buildings with blue accents rose from the mountainside from which they were built, each one cylindrical with domed roofs and small yet numerous windows.

The sight of all this baffled Wanderer, just from the sheer scale of it all, the city covered nearly the entire mountain on which it was built, and the road they were now standing on stretched far into the distance in both directions, the fact that this was all built by humans made it seem all the more impossible.

“That might not even be the greatest of the cities”, they pondered .

The very thought that the massive town that lay to their right may even be considered small to some was hard to grasp, yet, if humans could build that, why would they not make something greater?

“I suppose the road must lead somewhere”, why else would they build such a grand and massive structure if it only lead to one city, it was near certain that other cities existed.

A part of Wanderer deeply wanted to see them, even from a distance, the one they could see appeared full of new wonder and intrigue.

Yet they knew that entering it was a death sentence, they were unlikely to be able to give gifts to all the humans before they attempted to attack on sight.

And so, with a heavy heart deprived of an adventure, they began their trek down the empty stone road.