“There is nothing much to do during the hot season, unless cloud watching is your passion,” Aven explained, trudging his way up a hill just outside the village. While they lived in a mostly even plain with trees dotted here and there, a few hills disrupted the horizon here and there. He found the few to the south and southeast too popular with biting bugs due to a nearby lake, and the largest one to the west had been turned into a stone mine for the village, so Aven usually kept to himself in the North.
However, as he looked back at the slope he had just climbed, he was not alone as his construct was silently ascending behind him. Even if his golem did not talk back, could not talk back, it was easier than talking to nothing. “So, that’s why I come up here and watch the villagers instead.”
The hill, while not the tallest landmark, gave a view of the village in its entirety. From this position, the Chieftain’s hut was no bigger than his hand and the people moving around it were barely a knuckle in height. Hundreds of light brown people made their way from one structure to the next, weaving between the big spots of gray and blue that were the golems. Being this far away, Aven could even see a few of the herds that his tribe kept. The cattle slowly trickled from one side of the village to the other, shepherded by black blurs that could only be village hounds. The sheep, on the other hand, mainly stayed in place, a white cloud pulled from the sky above and affixed to the ground until the dogs got fed up enough and scared them away.
“When I’m inside, among all the tents and people,” Aven began, sitting down at the top of the cliff as his golem stood tall beside him, “it feels like I don’t matter. Everyone is rushing to finish their chores, talk with this person or that seller to exchange goods, and all I am is a distraction. An obstacle to be moved around.”
He let out a sigh, turning his attention from the village to grass between his legs. He plucked them between his thumb and the side of his pointer finger without any thought, gathering a stack before letting them disperse with the next gust of wind.
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“But when I’m here, when I can see the entire village at once, I feel closer somehow. Everyone is in a rush, being blocked by a train of golems there,” Aven pointed towards a line of golems hauling something that could have been a dead cow, “or having fun like the kids playing ball over there. There is no one person in the way; it’s everyone’s lives coming together to form… something bigger than all of them.”
If his golem had any response to the statement, it didn’t show it. It was directly facing the village, locked in place as if rooted to the ground, and after a minute Aven looked away again.
“It may not make sense to you, but it does to me. Our tribe makes up the village, and the needs of the village impact the tribe. If the cold season is on our doorstep, then the hunters begin searching the forest for food. The butchers and crafters get more materials, which means more meat for the families to preserve and warmer clothes to get us through the long night.”
“And if it is the end of the cold season, when the flowers and trees begin to bloom, then the shepherd’s shear their sheep and the weavers make more fabric. It should all be connected, but what about your kin? The golems?” Aven stood up, dusting off his pants and beginning to pace. “The tribe creates you for specific purposes, like mining stone, and so the need for stone leads to more golems being made. Then, as stone and wood is used in making golems, more axes are created for the woodcutters to bring in more materials. Golems are connected to the needs of the village, with our people, but they treat you like tools. Nothing more than an axe, a bow or a needle, made to be used and then cast away once useless.”
Aven stopped next to his golem, staring straight at the village for the first time since they arrived. “Then why from here do they look the same? What is so different between the two of us? Why do I have to be the Master, and you the servant? Can I not have a… can we not be… friends?”
As expected, the golem made no sound. It did not agree or disagree, nor could it, but without Aven giving an order the golem turned to face him. Aven bit his lip, waiting for it to make another move, but as the sun began to set he headed back the village. The golem followed.